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#british commentary x reader
esha-isboogara · 2 years
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the hard way
i have been re listening to the eboys podcast and guess who has been on my mind??? will lenny! so ofc i am going to write some super self indulgent fics
willne x afab!reader
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"that's right, baby. scream my name. let everyone know who this messy cunt belongs to”.
you could feel yourself nearing the edge of your bliss, desperate beyond belief for relief. “please will”, you cried out, gripping the sheets in your fists. “i can’t take anymore will, im going to pass out”.
will allowed your cries to fall upon deaf ears. over time he learned the most effective way to instill obedience is through punishment. that’s all you seemed to respond to. if he wanted things done he would have to do them the hard way. he didn’t always want to inflict pain on you but you made him do it- he couldn’t allow your actions to go unpunished.
“mmm you sound so cute when you beg”. he murmured , tightening his grip on your throat. “think you can manage to behave yourself now”?
you nodded eagerly.
“that’s a good girl. now apologize for being such a brat and i’ll let you cum”.
“i’m sorry will- so so so sorry”. you cried out , any ounce of pride you have left leaving your body at once. “i’ll be good, i pinky promise. i’ll be on my best behavior forever please will- please please please”.
will took a moment deciding weather or not to listen to your pleas.
how could he resist when you sounded so pretty begging for him ?
“go ahead love, make a mess for me”.
the second the words left his lips you let go allowing the sheer force of your orgasm to take you out. for a few blissful moments you were seeing stars.
“look at the mess you made lass, you gonna clean it up for me”?
breathing hard you nodded weakly. your muscles tensed with every movement. the sheets beneath you were covered in a mixture of juices but you were eager to please.
you extended your tongue and lapped up at the puddle of cum looking up at will as you did so.
“jesus christ lass, you’re gonna make me wanna go again lookin at me like that”.
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porflenet · 7 months
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Guardian Angel | Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!Reader
tags: blood, anxiety attack, injuries/gun shots, 141!reader, sargeant!reader (tho it won't go too deep on military things), angst with little comfort, no use of y/n.
word count: 1513
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summary: There is always a chance to a mission going south, casualties are expected, you just wished Ghost wasn't one of the involved.
commentary: "Too much angst lately!" I say, while I write angst. I will see if I write the continuation of this, it's very likely. Like always: English is not my first language. Enjoy!
  Your heart was racing, the smell of blood and gunpowder invading your nose and making you want to puke, not because you weren’t used to it, but the despair and adrenaline you felt after watching Ghost take three shots and drag him the best you could out of there weren’t really helping.
  You didn’t know and didn’t care how you managed to lift the man and carry him inside of an abandoned house, but thank god you did, the shots could be heard all around you but it didn’t matter now, you just needed to find something to stop the bleeding and fast, it was hard to see where exactly the bleeding was coming from, thanks to his stupid full black gear, but it was impossible to ignore the wetness you felt while holding his waist.
  You knew Ghost was trying to tell you something, probably spitting orders to you to leave him and find somewhere safe, and of course you ignore him completely, like you would ever leave him bleeding to death because of some stupid mission they sent all of you. You left him sitting against the wall, so you could throw all of the things over the table to the ground.
 – Sergeant, it’s an order! Leave and find a safe spot fo- Fuck! – He complained loudly when you pressed one of his wounds while picking him up, helping him to lay down on the table. 
 – Sergeant, it's an order! – You mocked the man in the best british accent you could at the moment, while desperately looking everywhere for something to help you.
  Finding some shirts that looked clean enough you went back to him, throwing the shirts beside him and taking the small bag with the first aid kit you carried with you, exactly for moments like this, but god, how you wished it was someone else, not him.
  Ghost still tried to move and spit orders at you, and you were sure you were going insane by his attitude. When he tried once again to get up while you tried to organize the few first aid stuff you had something possessed you, pushing him down with all the force you could gather, hearing a loud thud with a loud groan from the man. 
 – Shut your fucking mouth, stay still, and let me work! – You screamed while taking your knife to cut his top gear. 
  Maybe it was the pain and the strong want to rest, but Ghost couldn’t push you away like he wanted to, he could feel the pain of you trying to take out the bullet who stayed inside him, complains escaping his lips while you tried to make him stay still. You were no medic, both knew that, but there were not a lot of options at the moment, and you wouldn’t let him die here, not like this, not when you can do something. 
  His head was spinning, the panic of knowing he didn’t have a lot of time left starting to creep inside him, unconsciously reaching for your arm, holding it with all the strength he had left, you stopped briefly to hold his hand, a reassurance squeeze while you smiled softly at him. His eyes were out of focus, but they were always on you, his breath slowly going more heavy and slow, starting to shiver uncontrollably while the want to sleep was controlling his body.
  Noticing his reaction you ran to take some more clothes to throw over him, you were acting in a panic, both your arms and body covered with Simon’s blood, screaming at your radio begging for anyone to come and save him while you finally managed to stop all his bleeding, but you still had lost a lot.
  The smell of blood was nauseating, it covered both your bodies and the ground, you held Simon close to you to make sure he was warm, whispering sweet things everytime he would take a sharp breath, caressing his face so he knew he was going to be ok, even if you left a trail of his own blood over his mask, hoping he didn’t feel the way your body shaked, how your breath was out of control and your voice was heavy with sadness and despair. 
  But he felt, all of it, every tear that fell on his face alongside with his own, he heard the way you cursed at the radio for not getting an answer. It broke his heart, knowing how he wasn’t going to be able to tell you everything he felt, how he appreciated every time you would refuse one of his orders just to make sure he was ok, the way your smile made everything wrong with him disappear and fill him with a warm feeling that he got addicted to.
  He hated to know he was going to be the reason for your future sleepless nights, that the image of him in your arms covered in blood was going to be the last thing you saw. He didn’t want to give you pain, he wanted to see you smiling, to touch your face, just one last time, but his arms refused to obey, only his eyes allowed him to look at you, but even them now had started to fail him, closing on their own.
  He didn’t want to close his eyes.
  But he was so tired…
━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━
  You don’t know for how long you hugged him.   How many times you checked if he was still breathing.   How many times you called his name without an answer.
  But Price and the rest finally found you, and you knew he still breathed, his heart still beating, even so slowly that you almost couldn’t feel it. If you just run fast enough to a hospital he could make it, he was going to make it, he needed to.
  Everything was a blur the moment they took him from you. You remember vaguely two medics taking care of him, the sound of the propellers from the helicopter, Price trying talking to you but the words refused to come to you, watching how Simon’s chest still moved, the very subtly movement he would make sometimes, completely focused on see if he was still alive.
  Gaz and Soap forcefully carrying you away from following Ghost, them asking an annoying amount of time if they could take out your gear, the sensation of water hitting your skin, watching how it falled clean from your head to the rest of your body only to hit the ground with a mixture of dirt and blood, not your blood, your mind insisted to remember. Voices that you knew were Soap and Gaz asking you things you didn’t care about while they dressed you again, you needed to see him.
  You didn’t eat, you didn’t drink, you only sat at the waiting room from the hospital to wait for the results, Price, Gaz and Soap alongside you the whole time.
  It was a long and painful eleven hours.
  The moment a nurse called for Captain Price, all of you almost jumped to run to them, but you must have been more tired than expected, because you saw yourself walking slowly to the nurse, in an attack of anxiety trying to analyze her posture and gesture. 
  Was it good or bad news? Did you really want to know? What would you do if he was gone?  Why were you feeling like this anyway? Sure you loved Simon, you were pretty sure you loved him the first time you saw him, that intimidating man who refused to let his guard down, but you never told him so, limiting yourself to protecting the man who didn’t need protection, or so he told you millions of times. So what if the only time he needed you, you failed him?
  You couldn’t understand a word of what the rest of the group was saying, when did your vision get so blurry and your face so wet? The longer you tried to control your breath and heartbeat the worse it becomes. A strong pain in your chest caused by the intensity of your feelings made you hold your shirt tightly, your legs almost giving in on you, managing to stay up thanks to Gaz holding you at the last second.
  Voices mixing together, the lights were too bright, you just wanted to see him, you needed to know he was ok.
  Please, please, be ok Simon, please, don’t die, don’t die, don’t die-
  You must have been saying it out loud, because suddenly you felt Price holding your face with both hands and forcing you to look at him.
 – He is ok, lad, he came out fine from the surgery, he is sleeping in his room. He will be ok. – Price smiled at you, an almost forced smile to mask all the worry in his eyes, while you finally managed to breathe properly.
  Cleaning your tears with his thumb, hugging you tightly while gently caressing your head, Gaz and Soap joining the hug soon after.
 He was going to be ok.
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buckets-and-trees · 11 months
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Field Guide to Forestry
We just hit another follower milestone, so since there are way too many of you around for me to put this off any longer, how about I officially let everyone know who I am and what you'll find around here...
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CHIEF FORESTER: ASPEN Elder Millennial/upper 30s, she/her
THINGS ASPEN KNOWS WAY TOO MUCH ABOUT Trader Joe's, Disney Parks, the Great British Bake Off, CBS Survivor, Harry Potter, Houseplants
*:・゚WRITING FEST OPEN THROUGH JAN 9: ASPEN'S ENCHANTED BIRTHDAY FESTIVAL
IN THIS FIELD GUIDE YOU WILL FIND:
↠ Maps & Masterlists: my writing ↠ Forest Rules & Regulations: my guidelines and boundaries ↠ Visitors to the Forest: my approach to asks, requests, and tagging ↠ Upcoming Expeditions: projects I'm working on ↠ Tree Classification: my current tags ↠ Tales of the Teller: more about me and my writing
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↠ THE FOREST OF FICS IN UPSTATE NEW YORK The MCU realm of my writing ↠ THE FORBIDDEN FOREST OF FICSThe Harry Potter realm of my writing Statement about me, HP, and she who should not be named/famed any longer
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↠ I do not interact with minors. It's not safe in these woods.
↠ I do not consent to having my works translated or posted to other platforms. If I wanted to, I would.
↠ I will block at my own discretion. This is my forest, and I set the boundaries. Underage? Blocked. Pornbot pigeon? Blocked. Bigotted? Blocked. Rude? Blocked. Just be a reasonable human over the age of 18, and you'll be free to roam the woods.
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↠ ASKS Always open. I adore asks! Send thoughts, thots, questions, gifs, pics... For now I'll take anonymous asks - as long as everyone plays nice, it'll stay that way. Asks are NEVER a bother and you can ask about anything - questions about my existing works, stuff I'm working on, fandom things, my life... I'll answer within reason (no spoilers, I'm semi-open about my life but do keep some things private, etc).
↠ REQUESTS The only thing I'm actively entertaining requests for is my Cedar Trees Royal AU collection - but even these will be fulfilled subjectively and only as I have time and muse cooperation. Periodically I may host a request fest (as I did for my 300 follower celebration or for other occasions in the future).
↠ TAGLIST At this point in the growing season, I'm not maintaining an official taglist. In the future I will probably set up a secondary/library blog as many other authors have done where you can follow and turn on the notifications. There are only so many hours in the day, explorers.
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↠ BUCKY BARNES BINGO: 25-prompt challenge running April 10, 2023 through January 10, 2024 (3/25 complete) ↠ IN THE OPEN AIR: conclusion to Out of These Waters (mer!Bucky AU) ↠ DEVOUR: dark!mob boss Bucky AU (3/4 complete) ↠ THE GREAT BUCKY BAKE OFF: a Bucky x Reader episodic story with a Great British Bake Off format (coming fall 2023) ↠ ASPEN'S DARK FOREST FEST: ten-part spooky celebration with writer commentary highlighting my supernatural stories and a new darkfic (October and November 2023) ↠ ASPEN'S HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA 2023: eight days of fics followed by one day of many, many fics (coming December 2023)
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↠ FOREST NAVIGATION: field guide, masterlists, story collections ↠ AN ASPEN THING: when I post something more to do with me than anything fandom ↠ ASPEN MILESTONES: ONLY YOU CAN CREATE THESE FOREST FIRES ↠ ASPEN ASKS: responses to things from my ask box ↠ ASPEN IS WRITING: any commentary, sneak peaks, progress posts ↠ ASPEN WROTE SOMETHING: new story post ↠ OMG REBLOGGED THANK YOU: responding to or thanking people for reblogging my fics ↠ FIC READING: my reblogs of other people's fics ↠ MY MOOTS: flailing about or responding to one of my mutual friends
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↠ HISTORY OF ASPEN I grew up in a family that was steeped in all things stories: grandparents, aunts and uncles always telling stories at family gatherings; parents read to me before bed; watching too many movies and cartoons; staying up way past my bedtime trying to sneakily keep the light on to read and read and read; playing elaborate imagination games after school with my best friends (house, princesses, orphans, dance coaches, etc). I wrote my first story in my eighth grade English class where one day in the computer lab we were assigned to write a mystery that was at least one page. I loved it. My teacher said it was good...
That summer our family moved - mere days before I started my freshman year of high school - so that fall before I made friend friends, I read a lot and I started writing. I was desperate for the next Harry Potter book to come out, so I started writing my own... the next year I learned about fan fiction on the internet and that it was a thing. I was drawn into Lord of the Rings fanfic, then I wrote a Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic, and then I went back to Harry Potter and actively wrote in that fandom for around six years.
In college I majored in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing because while I was writing fan fiction, I was also occasionally dabbling with original fiction... the dream was to be a famous writer.
↠ WHY BUCKETS-AND-TREES Buckets because I thought I'd be writing almost exclusively Bucky and Trees because Aspen. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 
↠ ASPEN NOW In summer of 2022 I aggressively reclaimed HAVING hobbies in an effort to re-establish Aspen having a life outside of work. I love my career and I've worked incredibly hard to establish myself in the professional world, but... I needed to be more than just my work again.
So, again I write.
Throughout 2023 I'm participating in A LOT of challenges. In 2024 I plan to DO THE DAMN THING and write a novel. I've always intended to, but 2024 will be the year. ↠ MY WORK Primarily I'm writing MCU fan fiction - typically Bucky Barnes or Steve Rogers; but I have a short series for Namor I need to finish; I have written some pieces with Sam, Natasha, Matt Murdock, and Wanda; I have ideas in the works for Thor, Carol, and M'Baku. I've written/may write more for Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans characters. There may be some occasional Harry Potter.
I write a range of fluff, smut, and dark. Nearly all of my work has mature elements whether that's stronger language, sexual situations, or mature themes. HEED THE WARNINGS FOR EACH WORK AND DO NOT READ IT IF IT'S SOMETHING YOU DON'T LIKE. If I miss tagging something properly in the content warnings, please send me a message or an anonymous ask and let me know.
Most of my stories feature a reader insert. Reader is typically female, but when the reader is gender neutral I will designate accordingly! Striving to write an inclusive reader as much as possible, but if I stumble, please send me a message or an anonymous ask and let me know how I can grow.
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mlmxreader · 1 year
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Yanks | Simon Ghost Riley x trans!m!reader
Anonymous asked: The second request I had was for simon riley x pakitani!ftm reader where they are married and one of the American soldier tries to flirt with Simon but Simon obviously shuts him down, only for reader to get jealous and show the others who simon belongs to with this prompt "Everyone should know that you're mine"
Sorry if this is confusing or specific :)
-🦝
summary: Ghost doesn't mean to make you jealous, but when you are, he can't say he doesn't like it.
tws: threats, jealousy, swearing
Shifting from foot to foot, Ghost glared at the American soldier through his mask, his jaw clenched tightly as he considered whether or not the best option would be knocking their teeth out, but then, he supposed he would never get the chance, as American soldiers were more than cowardly and more than terrified of any real fighting; but they wouldn't leave him alone, and Ghost was getting fed up of their advances and their flirtatious commentary.
"You're arms are so big," they gushed, running a hand through their hair and biting their lip in such a way that it made Ghost wonder if they had something stuck in their teeth. "And your accent is so hot! I love British!"
Ghost narrowed his eyes, shaking his head as he scoffed and pulled the glove off of his left hand, holding it up with his fingers splayed. "I have a husband, yank."
"Oh my god," they beamed, blushing visibly. "Yank! That is so cute! Oh my god, do you like tea?"
"Not really, I prefer the coffee my husband makes me every morning," he grumbled, rolling his eyes and doing his best not to lose his temper. Usually, physical violence against Americans was your thing.
"Oh my god, oh my god!" They squealed, grinning. "Please tell me you adore the royal family as much as I do!"
Ghost shook his head. "I'm an anti-monarchist. I want them all guillotined."
Like a knight in shining armour, like King Arthur coming to the defence of Wales, you finally showed up; wearing your Pakistan Air Force uniform, Ghost could tell it was you from the moment he saw the dull green jumpsuit, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He melted against you, leaning into your side when you wrapped your arm around his waist and, with great disdain, looked the American up and down with a scowl.
"The fuck are you hanging around my husband for?" You spat, squaring up to them as Ghost gently removed your arm from his waist so that he could hold your hand. "Huh? The fuck do you want?!"
The American took a step back. "I was just telling your husband how adorable it is that he's British!"
You glared at them, letting go of Ghost's hand and grabbing the American by the collar of their shirt, pulling them close as you snarled and snapped at them. "You fucking leave my husband alone. He's fucking mine. And neither of us take kindly to stupid yankees getting in our way - do I fucking make myself clear?"
They nodded, fear in their eyes; Americans always got so scared when someone directly confronted them and challenged them. "Y-yes, Sir... I'm so, so, so sorry."
"You talk to him again," you growled. "And I will have the entire Pakistan Air Force on your ass so hard that your fucking grandchildren will feel it. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, Sir..."
"You fucking leave him alone," you pushed them, forcing them to tumble backwards and fall onto their back against the dirt. "You fucking leave my husband alone!"
Your entire demeanor changed when you returned to Ghost's side, smiling at him as you dared to give him a quick peck on his mask; although you couldn't see it, you knew that he was smiling behind it as he dared to take your hand in his again.
"It's kinda hot when you get jealous, Flight Lieutenant Riley."
"I know it is," you grinned, giving his hand a little squeeze. "And I know you love to see it, Lieutenant Riley."
"I do," Ghost nodded, lifting up his mask just enough so that his mouth was exposed to you, welcoming you eagerly when you kissed him harshly.
You took his mask off, stuffing it in your pocket as you grabbed his face, your hands on his jaw as he held you tightly by your shirt, pulling you ever closer as he allowed you to take charge; it was harsh, messy, cruelly addictive, and Ghost couldn't stop the feeling that he didn't want it to end.
You stole his breath, slipping your tongue between his lips and captivating every little bit of oxygen that he had, and he was eagerly giving it up to you; a soft moan coming from the back of his throat. Usually, he didn't like public displays of affection, and normally, he hated having to take his mask off in front of others; but in that moment, utterly at your mercy and every whim, he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted was you. All he needed was you.
People were looking, especially the American troops, but Ghost knew that his face was hidden enough with your hands and your face that they wouldn't see any proper details anyway; but then you pulled away, quickly putting his mask over his face, and you grinned. Ghost's chest was heaving as he licked his lips to savour your taste, an excited look in his eyes as he looked you up and down.
"What was that?"
"Everyone should know that you're mine," you whispered hoarsely. "I just wanted to remind them."
He smiled under the mask, nodding slowly; fuck, you were so hot when you were jealous, and he adored it. But he also knew that, if anyone were to make him jealous, he wouldn't react the same; it had happened before, someone had tried to flirt with you and he had gotten jealous, but instead of reacting with such heat and such passion like you did, Ghost only ever walked away. In fact, the only time that he had ever thrown a punch when someone was talking to you, was the handful of times that people had made negative comments about you being trans.
Still, he supposed that it was enough that you were the jealous one.
"I love you." He grumbled the words so softly, and lit up a little when you grinned at him so fucking brightly.
if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM.
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mischiefmanaged71 · 1 year
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Let’s Fall In Love For The Night - (3/10)
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Summary: Being the eldest daughter of a Duke and Duchess means that Lady Y/N has been prepared for society; to fulfil her duties as the next heir to her family name and estate. However, she dreams of so much more than that, particularly, finding someone she truly loves rather than a political match. Intrigue sparks an idea with the introduction of Tom Bennett, a soldier she meets on a Press tour - forming a new relationship that could either make or break her apart should things turn against her favour.
Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem! Reader
1938
The annual Westminster Charity for Orphaned Children, hosted by the House of Richmond, wrapped up last night. Photographs of the Duke and Duchess of Richmond featured with their children, Lady Y/N, Lord Matthew, and youngest Henry. Many stipulations over the Lady Y/N circulated with several people sighting an interaction with Lord Edward Dashwood.
***
1939
Coverage of the races over this past weekend saw many royals and sportsman's on the racing fields... A reported interaction with the Lady Y/N approaching one of the riders before the races began sparked discourse on the young woman's social circle, residing to herself.
***
Tuesday, the 19th March | 1940
The Duke Richard II and his daughter, the Lady Y/N, pictured below with naval soldiers. The ship is scheduled to depart in two months time where it will provide British allied support abroad.
The paper smacked against the breakfast table, the clinking of cutlery and chatter filling her ears once more.
"Darling, what is it?"
Y/N tilted her head, looking to her father at the end of the table, "Nothing. The publication is out now."
He stretched his hand out, accepting the paper from her. It wasn't necessarily the journalist's depiction of her in the article at all, moreso than the photograph. From another's perspective it was perfectly normal looking photo with Y/N standing at her father's side along with the rows of soldiers.
However, to her own knowledge, she could see the very moment before she turned away. It was the fact that Tom was still very much looking at her in the photograph. It had sent her heart racing off as she held the paper in her hands. Proof that it had happened. A reminder of the encounter. Of the day prior when she had returned to Manchester, Tom, keeping to his word, had shown her around the local square. He was kind, and playful, albeit flirtatious most of the time.
Her father nodded, "Hmm, you did splendidly, darling. I actually heard around you were quite popular with the soldiers."
She looked at him in astonishment, "What do you mean?"
He placed the butter knife down, "Well, I mean, they were pleased to meet you."
"Oh, yes." She looked down at her plate, hmming "Of course. Although, I gather being restrained to a ship of men for a time can do that to a person. Seeking out other attention."
"I suppose." Her father agreed, sipping his tea.
She glanced at her mother who eyed her after the comment. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Her mother nodded, glancing at her youngest sons as they munched on their toast before school.
"I understand we make these...appearances, but does it not grow tiresome?" She stared out the window into the garden.
"Elaborate." Her father beckoned.
"Pretending. Putting on a fake smile and accepting all the backhanded compliments and sly commentary on your life."
Her mother paused, "It's what we must do."
"It's how we work, darling. I understand it is difficult sometimes, but always been this way."
She nodded, swallowing the itch in her throat, "Course. But change isn't necessarily a bad thing, is it?"
A moment of silence passed as they soaked up the question.
"May I?" She stood from the table, gesturing at the paper. The Duke nodded and she grabbed the paper from the table before departing to her room.
***
A calm feeling flowed through her, thoughts fading into the background as Y/N brushed through the horse's mane. She found herself spending more time at the stables each day. Time she spent riding across the fields was a getaway from her overthinking and anxieties.
The sound of approaching footsteps broke her from her daze, turning to the doorway. Much to her surprise, she was met with a familiar mop of blonde hair, and that slight smirk.
"What are you doing here?" She breathed, "How did you even get on the premises?"
"I was in the neighbourhood." Tom shrugged, "Also, wasn't too hard to get past the back fence."
"That is reckless. You could have been caught."
He shrugged, "But, I wasn't. I managed to get here."
She sighed, a smile growing on her lips "And what other reasons brought you to my abode?"
"Oh, a promise. I believe I'm owed a tour?" He stepped forward.
She chuckled, a glint in her eye "Of course."
"Who's this?" He glanced at the horse between them. The black and white stallion grumbled, glancing around.
Y/N smiled fondly, patting his mane, "His name is Orion. I picked him out when I first started my lessons."
"Why Orion?"
"I've always had an affinity for history and mythology, especially Ancient Greece. The name suited him."
"You must come here often then." Glancing around.
A shy smile crossed her features as she flickered between the two, "This is my favourite place to get away."
"Won't say I'm jealous."
"Guess you'll have to settle for second then." She surmised, a grin tugging at her lips.
"I'll have to work on it." Lips pursed.
A glint in her eye, she hummed to herself and they made eye contact.
"What've you got in mind?"
"Have you been riding before?" She asked.
"A few times."
Tom followed as Y/N left him with a grin on her features, "What?"
***
The blood rushed in her ears, the thudding of the hooves beneath racing in tandem with her heart. She pushed on, the excitement of the wind blowing through her hair akin to flying as she raced through the field atop Orion. She glanced over her shoulder at Tom behind her. A laugh bubbled from her throat as she slowed and circled around, feeling breathless.
"I'd hardly call that fair, love." Tom called out, circling his horse to her side.
"You're not up for a game, then."
"Can't exactly compete." He retorted, a breathy laugh to follow.
"You're not bad for a beginner, you know."
"Yeah?"
"Although, my twelve-year old brother is far more competitive."
Tom shook his head at her, teasingly narrowing his eyes. Arriving at the stables, he hopped off his horse and glanced up at her.
"You bring all of the boys round here?"
"No." She replied immediately, hopping off Orion and landing on her feet. She found herself stood in front of Tom, now looking up at him. The silence drew them closer as she felt herself drift in his direction. The lingering stares drew to a tense close, his hand cupping her jaw. Her breath drawing shorter and eyes fluttered shut, breathing each other in and-
Footsteps drew close and Y/N turned, Tom's hand dropping from her face. Her heart raced in her chest as she saw Charlie, one of the carers approaching from the entrance. He was an older man in his sixties who dedicated himself to caring for the horses. He'd taught all of the children of their House to ride, including her father.
"Ma'am. I didn't expect you today."
She waved her hand, a flush to her cheeks "I took Orion for a ride. You know how he gets anxious staying in for too long."
Charlie nodded, glancing at Tom, "Who might this be?"
Her mouth opened and closed as she glanced at Tom, "This is Thomas. He is a new member of my security."
Charlie glanced between the two, clearly sceptical but nodded nonetheless. "Well. I'll leave you to it."
A sigh left her mouth as she finally looked Tom in the eye. "Thomas?"
"What?"
"Bit on the nose, isn't it?"
She rolled her eyes, tugging Orion's reigns to the stables.
"I'm joking!" He laughed, and she found herself smiling despite her effort to stifle it. She replaced Orion in his stable, removing the saddle and reigns to begin and placed them on the side. The door swung behind her and she turned and the air left her lungs as warm lips pressed against her. She gasped lightly into Tom's mouth, breathing him in. His touch sent shivers along her skin as he gently brushed the hair away from her neck. Her hands found their way around his neck, needing him closer. He deepened the kiss, only releasing for air as they exhaled deeply.
A neigh sounded in the background, but she was too absorbed in him leaning against her forehead, their exhales mixing together in the heat of things. Eyes half lidded, gazing into his blue eyes that faded into a gunmetal blue when fully blown.
"Charlie is probably still around." She whispered.
He hummed, "I don't think that's gonna stop me." Pressing another soft kiss to her lips as she sighed, hands resting on his chest.
***
The sun dipped below the horizon as they sat beneath the tree, settled in a comfortable silence. Y/N nestled her head in Tom's shoulder.
"This is nice."
"It is, isn't it?" He hummed, glancing at her. He brushed her hair from her face.
"Would you...want to do this again?"
"This?" He feigned confusion, begging her to elaborate.
She glanced up at him, "You know. Seeing each other."
"D'you mean as mates or..." He smiled at her, "Just thought I'd confirm."
She sat up, tucking her hair over her shoulder "As in, I'd like to see you again, Tom."
He smirked, "I'm only pulling your leg. I understand perfectly."
Leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek, "I'd love to see more of you. Just know, I'm known for getting into trouble sometimes."
"I'm certain there's never a dull moment with you." She remarked, breaking into a grin as he tugged her into his arms.
"So it's settled then?"
"Yeah." She breathed, glancing between his eyes and lips. "Although, there is the one thing. To keep this secret."
He listened, "The media are known for distorting stories, and I wouldn't want that for you...us."
"Okay. If that’s what you want." He nodded.
"Thank you." She smiled, caressing his hand. "My family wouldn't know either. They're...my parents are open-minded, but-right now, things are uncertain. I'm unsure of what they're thinking."
"Understandable." He replied, "Not sure about dad, but I think Lois would agree. Try not to worry about all that." Tom clasped their hands together. "Focus on right now."
She exhaled, "I'll try, yeah."
Although it was a wishful thought for the most part that they could exist together without question. Without doubt of intervention or disapproval of their relationship.
Tom tugged her into his chest, "One of these days, I will beat you in a race."
"Oh, yeah?" She tilted her head, "You're about twelve years behind in training. I'm sure you'll get there, though."
"Hey," he murmured in her ear in a teasing voice. She giggled and the sound caused his heart to flutter. "I could-"
"-I'm sure you will." Y/N laughed as he tickled her neck.
TAGS
@pearlstiare @dothrckis @aemonds-sapphire @xcharlottemikaelsonx  @filipinamultifandom ​ @padfooteyes ​ @batsyforyou @yentroucnagol @cl-0-vr @viviartsy @h3k3t @arcana-greenleaf  @yummycastiel @lauraneedstochill @ladybug0095 @rntrsna @schniiipsel
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coffee-latte-sprite · 2 years
Text
Damian Al Ghul and the Annoying Reporter
Series Masterlist
AgedUp!Damain Al Ghul x fem!reader
Chapter 11
WC: 500
Warnings: kidnapping, ransom note, language 
Synopsis:
Wanting to make a name for herself, Y/N does the unthinkable and tries to interview the heir to the League of Assassins. Although, it doesn’t go as planned. How will she be able to salvage this, especially when Damian Al Ghul doesn’t like strangers?
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“Thanks.” Damian said as he accepted the water from the flight attendant. He sat by the window of first class and drank sparingly. 
He never realized how little he talked as the silence around him ate away. 
He missed her voice. Saying how she was so surprised he had enough money left in his bank account and commented about how delicious the food was. 
He missed her asking him (pointless) questions constantly, or giving her commentary freely. 
Titus sat on the seat beside him as he was acting sad as well. Damian also had to pay the entire cabin crew to allow Titus with him and not in a crate. 
He couldn’t stand this silence and picked up the airplane phone. He quickly dialed the Daily Planet. 
His flight to Scotland was delayed a day and had to stay in France an extra day. The first night without her was excruciating. 
He knew she must be in the office with her friend. . . Edla. . . Elma. . . Esme. Yeah, Esme. 
The annoying ring repeated over and over until someone picked up. 
“Hello, this is the Daily Planet, how may I direct your call?” 
“Hello, can I talk to your reporter Esme? I have some details on the story she is working on.”
“Of course, one moment please, and could you please share your name for transferring purposes?” 
“Bruce Ghul”
The phone went back to a ring as a British voice came over the phone. 
“Hello, this is Esme. I’m sorry I haven’t had the pleasure to meet you in person yet Mr. Ghul as your name doens’t come to mind. What information on the sidelights do you have to add?” She asked politley. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. I am not really Bruce Ghul, I am Damian Al Ghul. I wanted to speak with Y/N.” Damian said sheepishly as he felt like a child asked for his friend to come to the phone. 
There was silence then laugher. “You have got to be kidding me. Tell Y/N I believed her and don’t need some actor to call me.” Esme kept laughing as Damian blushed. 
“No, miss, I’m serious. I am Damian Al Ghul. I need to speak with Miss. L/N about our interview.” Lies. Damian just wanted to hear her voice. 
“Sorry to say, but she isn’t here. I thought she was still with you.” Esme said as Damian's heart dropped. 
“What do you mean? She didn’t come to see you when she got back?” He asked as panic gripped at his insides. 
“No. . . Wait, you mean you don’t know where she is?” Esme started to match his panic level. 
“NO! I got her on a flight home yesterday!”
“Oh no! Do you think something happened? I know she would have came to me first to get Bella!” Esme said hysterically. 
“I-” 
“Excuse me sir, this is for you.” A flight attenant interrupted and handed him an envelope. 
Damian stopped short as the envelope was a deep black color. 
He quickly grabbed it and opened. 
His hands shook as he read the note over and over again and his heart sunk lower and lower. 
You want her? Meet us at the brig. Don’t be late little bastard.
Damian’s hand shook with anger and his knuckles turned white around the phone. “I know where she is. I’ll get her back.” He said as he hung up. 
....
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@royalmuffinsworld / @rory-cakes / /@jasontoddsloverrr / @rivas0309 / @giselatropicana / @atlaincorrect / @acupnoodle / @geeksareunique / @1-800-cherri / @mymomsdisappointment / @dreamsdemxn / @hollyharper / @andysnewgroove / @cherriebat /@twilight-loveer
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pastanest · 4 months
Text
Danny x gn&British!reader
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Danny Atlas x British Reader
- this man will act like he’s above finding an accent attractive until he meets you
- and then his cards are on the table pun intended
- bc he suddenly realizes that the dry British sense of humor massively appeals to him
- the first time you call him “smarmy” he all but fumbles his deck fr
- rarely asks you to translate your British slang and pretends to know exactly what you mean but the second you’re not looking he’s googling on his phone “what is a tosspot”
- LOVES the way your face scrunches up in absolute disgust when he repeats some British slang back to you but makes no effort to sound less American when he does
- particularly when using the word “banter” bc, as you so rightly put it, “there is no need to use such a hard r at the end of that word”
- LOVES listening to you retell stories that he’s told you or tales of funny things that happened to you together, in group settings with others bc the way you retell things with your additional British commentary has him struggling to hide an adoring smirk
- surprises you with random British things sometimes just to see how you’ll react
- bought you a mixed box of British sweets once and when you found parma violets in the bottom, you flipped your lid you decide whether that’s good or bad in this context but if you actually like sweets that taste like perfume…
- LOVES to take the piss out of the way you pronounce American things “wrong” despite the fact he is very well educated on the fact the language he speaks derives from yours, he just likes winding you up
- doesn’t understand the hype around fish and chips until you take him to a proper fish and chip shop and it’s like a religious experience for him
“I should move here. We should move here, I think. And we need to be within 5 miles of this exact fish and chip store.”
“Shop.”
“Yes, sorry, shop. I need to be able to walk here. At least once a week. Maybe more. I’ll book myself as an entertainer here and perhaps they’ll give me this stuff for free.”
“Danny-“
“If I earn enough money from shows here, I could even buy this exact fish and chip shop. And rehire everyone who already works here to ensure everything tastes exactly the same. Except under my name. Atlas Fish And Chips.”
“Danny, you can’t just-“
“J. Daniel Atlas, masterful illusionist and fish and chip shop owner. That’s history. I’m going to make it history.”
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thisismysecondrodeo · 2 years
Text
"Love is a gamble we play and you've got much safer odds" - Ted Lasso x Reader Fanfic Part 1
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Word Count: 2K
AN: Requested by @lassoposting (thank you!), you can also read this on ao3 I'll be updating here and there at the same time: Link
Rating: General
Tags: Henry Lasso, Michelle Lasso, Coach Beard, Jealous!Reader, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, Beard's got your back Part 2 | Part 3 | Fic masterlist
-
You and Beard were sitting at a table in the Crown & Anchor, nursing a beer and reading your respective books. 
It had become a weekly tradition that the two of you referred to as Reverse Book Club: only reading and under no circumstances would there be any discussion, but occasionally if the book was good enough you would swap. Ted had asked to be included once he learned of it but he was much too…active of a reader. Lots of giggles and asides, and god forbid when he read a really good line and just HAD to read it out loud. He was not invited back, but he was unperturbed about the whole thing, still enthusiastic about his best girl and best friend spending time together. 
You and Ted had been dating for six months and you could honestly say you’d never been happier, even if on paper the two of you were an odd match: he was an older, American football coach with a son and a sunny disposition and you were a young art gallery director, moody and pessimistic without a single athletic bone in your body (or sports thought in your head). But when Ted popped up in your art gallery one day all earnest interest and thoughtful, if misguided, commentary, well you couldn’t deny you were smitten. It still took you asking him out on three separate occasions for him to understand you were interested in him romantically, and to this day he still frequently seemed shocked, even though you regularly greeted him after work with your tongue in his mouth and your hands fisted in his shirt collar(s). Six months wasn’t a lot of time, but it was enough for your lives to start to weave together, enough for him to casually mention the idea of moving in together—though that was also helped along by the fact that both of you had upstairs neighbors that made their displeasure for your nighttime activities well known. 
And of course, there was Reverse Book Club; the two people who understood Ted best in the whole world enjoying an hour of quality non-talking time. Until today, when Beard quietly slipped his bookmark (a Tesco receipt from 3 weeks ago) into his book and looked at you pointedly. You checked the time on your phone; it had only been 30 minutes. You raised an eyebrow at your friend quizzically.
“Plans?” 
“Nope.”
“Boring book, Coach?”
Beard tapped his hand on the cover, the title reading: The Black Joke: The True Story of One Ship's Battle Against the Slave Trade . “British naval history could never be boring, Director.” You were always amused when Beard used your job title the same way you used his, it felt like a sign of respect. “I just, well, forgive me for breaking the rules of Reverse Book Club here but I guess I was just curious how you were feeling? If you’re looking forward to it…or…”
You didn’t have to ask him for clarification; you knew your friend was asking about your impending meeting with Henry. You and Ted had been talking about it for weeks and his son would finally be there the next day; he was excited to introduce the two of you in person. You liked kids and you were good with kids, but you couldn't deny it felt like a test you needed to pass for your relationship to progress. If Henry didn’t like you there went moving in together, vacations to Kansas or anywhere else, hell, potentially there went the whole relationship. You scrunched your nose at Beard. 
“Looking forward isn’t quite the phrase I would use…”
Beard’s eyebrows crinkled together in an expression you read as offended on behalf of Henry. 
“Oh, I’m thrilled to meet Henry in person. You know I’ve met him on FaceTime and all that,” you waved a hand, “he’s smart and funny like his Dad, and I bought this art series Lego set for us to build together. Felt like a good introduction to my world since galleries aren’t the most… kid-friendly places. But I guess, I mean, I just…” you trailed off, chugging a bit more of your pint. “It just feels like I’m about to take an A-level I didn’t study for, you know?”
“Makes sense. But this isn’t something you pass or fail. It's more like a…mile marker.” 
You tilted your head at him, with an expression he read as expand on that.
“You see it, you experience the mile passing, you move on. Sometimes it affects your road trip because you realize you’ve been going the wrong way the past 30 miles. And sometimes it marks a spot you want to remember, a nice view, a midpoint as you get to your destination.” 
“Mmh,” you respond carefully. “Metaphor.”
“Metaphor, bay-bay.”
Beard picks his book back up and you follow suit, but you catch his eye again as he turns the page. 
“How far is a fucking mile anyway?”
-
“How was Reverse Book Club?”
Ted leaned in for a sweet greeting kiss, despite the fact that you had seen him just a few hours ago and you smiled into the affection. 
“Good. Think we might swap books next week.”
“Oh yeah? Beard wants to read,” Ted leaned down to check out the title of the pink book you had just sat on his kitchen table, “ Red, White, and Royal Blue ?”
You chuckled. “Probably not, but it's fun to get him out of his comfort zone.” 
“Well, I’m sure he also trusts your sensibilities. Hungry?”
You shake your head no as you move to the couch, picking up Ted’s Kansas City hoodie he always left on the back for you and slipping it over your head, the familiar scent of sandalwood and pepper from his cologne wafting over you. It settled you somewhat, but not enough to stop you from worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as Ted looked you over. 
“You eat at the Crown & Anchor?”
“Nah, just, uh, not hungry.” 
“Hm, well that just won’t do. What are you not telling me?” It wasn’t that you wanted to keep things from Ted, but you didn’t want to give him the wrong impression about how you felt about meeting Henry. You were touched that he wanted you to be a part of his son’s life, but it didn’t stop the nervous energy coursing through you that made eating an impossible task. So why couldn’t you just say that?
Ted made his way over to the couch, peeling an orange as he flopped down next to you, your thighs pressing together, shoulders brushing. Neither of you said anything, and you watched as he split the fruit into segments and popped one onto his tongue, licking a drop of juice from the corner of his mouth. It was…oddly seductive and your stomach fluttered for a reason that wasn’t nerves. He met your eyes and smirked as if he could read your mind, offering you a segment and you felt spellbound to accept. Something about the loving gesture, the way he let you sit and didn’t push, despite the fact that you were being cagey was something you hadn’t experienced in a relationship before, and you sighed, knowing that this man could make you bare your whole soul with a quirked eyebrow and a piece of fruit. 
“I’m nervous about meeting Henry. I mean, I’m excited. But I’m worried that if it doesn’t go well, this,” you gestured between the two of you, “can’t go on. And it’s not like I would blame you, I mean he’s your whole world and that’s how it should be. But I, God, I just love you and I want it to be, I mean, I hope—”
“Honey, you’re spiraling.” 
“I know.” You took a deep breath. “I know you’re going to tell me that everything is going to go perfect and that I should believe, and you’re right. I know you’re right…”
“But?”
“But. I worry. It’s just how I’m built.” 
Ted chuckled. Somehow over the course of the conversation he had snuck you most of the orange and he finished off the last segment before tucking you into his arms, your head resting under his chin. 
“I get it. Of course I do. And I could never fault you for being nervous, especially when I’ve never been in your shoes. But I gotta say…”
He looked down at you pressed into him, a goading look on his face. You rolled your eyes and the two of you spoke in unison. 
“Rom-Communism.” 
He dropped a kiss on the top of your head. And then your temple. And then your cheek and the space behind your ear that always made you shudder and then finally your lips. 
“Alright, to sleep. We have to pick up the boy bright and early,” he whispered as you separated, tugging you up to your feet with him. 
You pouted. “I’ll go to bed. But we’re not going to sleep.” 
“We’re not?”
You slipped the couch hoodie and your shirt off in one fell swoop before taking his hand and leading him into the bedroom. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know what you were doing with that orange.” 
Ted laughed, moving his hand from yours to fit both of his large hands around your waist and gently tossed you to the bed, climbing over you as you giggled. 
The alarm went off early and Ted snuffled, the sun from the window just beginning to trickle over his bare back with one arm wrapped around your waist. He never reacted to the first alarm, he knew you liked to set three because you had an awful time forcing yourself out of bed, but today you were wide awake already, staring at the ceiling. It was going to be your last night in Ted’s bed for the next two weeks, both of you agreed that there would be no sleepovers while Henry was still getting used to the idea of having you around. It had been your idea—you didn’t want Henry to feel like you were pushing into his dad time. 
At the second alarm, Ted roused. You could tell because his breathing was more shallow and there was the faint tickle of his eyelash against your neck where his face was tucked against you. 
“I can hear those gears turning, lil lady,” he grumbled. “They woke me up.” 
“Sure they did,” you teased. “Couldn’t have been the alarm.”
He kissed your neck before sitting up and luxuriating into a stretch and you watched with obvious interest as the muscles in his back and arms rippled. He caught your eye over his shoulder and smirked. 
“Impure thoughts this early? Why Y/N, am I just a piece of meat to you?”
You laughed as you draped your body over his back, your arms coming around to hold him against you. “A piece of meat that I’ll be missing for the next two weeks, that’s for sure.” Ted chuckled as you kissed his cheek. “Join me in the shower?”
The two of you arrived at the airport just before the flight was supposed to land, your hand gripping Ted’s as you sipped the latte he bought you on the way. Caffeine probably wasn’t the best choice today, considering it often made you jittery and anxious, but the routine of it was also soothing. He led the way to the check-in counter to present Henry’s itinerary and get a pass to pick him up from the gate and you tuned out, doing a little people-watching as Ted got the details sorted. You tuned back in when you realized his tone was frustrated. 
“What do you mean my son is not an Unaccompanied Minor? Did he not get on the plane, I don’t understand.”
“Sorry, sir, the system says the ticket was originally purchased as an Unaccompanied Minor ticket, but it shows that the service fee was refunded because they’re now traveling with someone over the age of 12 making them no longer unaccompanied.”
“Someone? Someone who? I don’t—”
“DAD!” 
Both of your heads whipped around to the sight of Henry Lasso somehow running full tilt across the airport, and despite Ted’s recent frustration (not at the attendant, never them, just the situation) he couldn’t help but grin. He turned back to finish his conversation with the attendant and apologize but you pushed him towards his son and answered for him. “Looks like we got it all figured out somehow, thank you. Appreciate you.” 
Ted had made it to Henry and spun him in a circle, other travelers be damned, and you made your way over cautiously. You couldn’t help but find the father-son joy a little bit infectious. 
“Y/N is here too! Cool!” Henry flung his arms around you as if he had known you all his life, and it was enough to release at least some of the tension you’d been holding. You got down on his level to give him a better hug. 
“It’s so cool to see you in person,” you smiled at him sincerely, “You know I thought when I met you, you’d only be like this big.” You held your hands apart, about the length of an iPad, and Henry laughed. 
Ted grinned at the two of you interacting as you stood up and he ruffled the boy’s blond hair. “We were gonna come meet you at the gate kid, but they said someone was traveling with you?”
Henry was about to answer when a voice spoke up from behind. 
“Hi Ted.” 
You nearly choked on your sip of coffee when you turned and saw the woman that was undeniably Michelle Lasso. Ted’s ex-wife. 
Part 2 ->
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Text
I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You
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Eddie Munson x OC, Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader, Fluff, Shakespeare, Pining
Lucy Henderson Character Bio, Lucy's Tag in General
Summary: Eddie proves he paid more attention in English than he lets on. OR, how Lucy discovered Eddie reciting Shakespeare is really hot.
Warning: This contains the entirety of the Queen Mab speech from Romeo and Juliet
Based on anon request: I’m feeling ridiculously soft for Eddie and Lucy rn. Any drabbles or one shots about a soft moment during the craziness or before the craziness of season 4?
A/N: I literally came up with this yesterday. I couldn't help it, the theater nerd is strong with me.
Word Count: 1.8K
    “Bullshit.”
    “Scouts honor.”
    “You were never in the scouts.”
    “Well what else am I supposed to swear on?”
    Lucy rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. She had been doing it all night and was starting to get good at it. 
    It was late. Their movie had ended and Lucy had dared to take Eddie up on his suggestion to just walk for a while. It wasn’t an unusual request. They did it all the time, but spending so much time alone with him was proving treacherous.
    Her little crush hadn’t faded since the end of the semester and they were almost to July. It felt like it was getting worse. 
    She thought some distance would do her some good, but Eddie had called her out of the blue and she couldn’t think of a good excuse not to. They were still friends. She couldn’t avoid him forever. A movie seemed innocent enough; dark, limited talking, safe. She had even managed to pay attention to what was on screen for most of it. Even still, his occasional commentary in her ear drove her to distraction. She honestly couldn’t remember anything of what they had just seen by the time they walked out. 
    If she had any sense she would have made up some excuse about work in the morning, but then he smiled and she knew she’d do just about anything he asked. 
    He kept the conversation going for the first stretch and eventually Lucy was able to relax enough to answer back. Nothing had changed. Eddie was still Eddie. She just had to remind herself of that and not get herself into a tizzy over a laugh or a look. 
    They had even managed to move past the subject of the movie to, of all things, Shakespeare. Somewhere in their rambles Lucy grumbled about wishing she could rent an apartment for three months to do summer stock in a big city or even just Shakespeare in the park. This prompted Eddie to make a rather bold claim pertaining to Mercutio and Queen Mab.   
    “Why would you even try to memorize the Queen Mab speech?” Lucy protested. 
    He shrugged. “It’s cool. I mean the rest of the play is gooey, lovey dovey shlock, but all the Mercutio stuff is awesome. Besides, I needed the extra credit.”
    “So you just up and performed in front of the entire class for a couple extra points?”
    He scoffed. “Please, if I did that my reputation would never recover. Mr. Kennedy just let me do it at lunch.” 
    Lucy’s lips pressed into a line. Mr. Kennedy was known for being one of the more reasonable teachers at Hawkins. She could see him offering to let Eddie perform privately if he felt like Eddie was otherwise putting in the effort. Still, she couldn’t help feeling like he was pulling her leg.
    Eddie caught her skeptical expression. “You don’t believe me.” 
    “I just don’t see it,” she admitted. 
    He nodded, his brows creasing in deep thought. It only took him a moment to come to a decision. “Okay.” 
    He took two long strides ahead before jumping up on a bench in front of an empty store front. He cleared his throat, placing a hand over his heart. 
    “I, Edward Munson, shall perform Shakespeare’s Queen Mab for the judgment and viewing pleasure of this illustrious audience,” he announced in the most obnoxious British accent he could muster as he gestured to the non-existent crowd. 
    Lucy let out a laugh, which only encouraged him.
    “Now I shall require some audience participation,” he said, peering down at her with a scrupulous eye, “assuming the audience has the play memorized as well.”
    “We do,” she assured. 
    “Excellent,” he grinned, dropping the accent while he was at it. “Now, let me see, how does it start?" He tapped his chin. "Romeo says, 'I dreampt a dream tonight'. Mercutio, 'And so did I'."
    Lucy smiled. "Well, what was yours?"
    Eddie grinned and something else seemed to shift inside him, like the turning of a dial. She'd seen it a handful of times when a campaign took on a particularly dramatic turn. A sudden tremble of anticipation shot through her.
    "That dreamers often lie," he answered.
    "In bed asleep while they do dream things true," she replied.
    "O," he crouched down, meeting her straight in the eye, "then I see Queen Mab hath been with you."
    He leaned in, his eyes glimmering with an unbalanced glee. “She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes, in shape no bigger than an agate-stone,” he raised his finger waving it in front of her eyes, “on the fore-finger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little atomies, athwart men's noses as they lie asleep.”
    Ever so slowly he began to rise, his hands and arms animating every line.
    “Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, the cover of the wings of grasshoppers, the traces of the smallest spider's web, the collars of the moonshine's watery beams, her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, not so big as a round little worm Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. And in this state she gallops night by night through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love.”
    He drawled out the final word mockingly as he once again turned his attention toward her, sinking down to her level. 
     “O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,” he continued, pointing to her knees. “O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,” he took her hand, pinching the ends of her fingers.  “O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,” he brushed her lips, or, at least, came close enough the air of his movements tickled her skin. 
    Lucy could feel her cheeks heat at the gesture. She thought he might stop to comment, but he didn’t break his stride as his expression kept up that half crazed smile.  
    “Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.” He straightened up, waving his hand in front of his nose as if offended by the smell.
    “Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,” he went on, now using his own body as demonstration. “And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; and sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, then dreams, he of another benefice: sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats.”
    He clutched his neck and Lucy felt something else change. Still in character, but the glee was gone, replaced with a menace that made her spine straighten. 
    “Of breaches,” he continued, “ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear,” he slammed his hand behind him making the glass of the storefront vibrate, “at which he starts and wakes, and being thus frighted swears a prayer or two and sleeps again.” 
    His eyes widened, his body like a live wire as if about the fall of the edge. 
    “This is that very Mab, that plats the manes of horses in the night, and bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which once untangled, much misfortune bodes,” he shouted. “This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, That presses them and learns them first to bear, making them women of good carriage: This is she—” 
    "Peace, peace,” Lucy interjected, grabbing his hand. She didn’t know how she remembered the line, but was grateful she did. It would all feel a waste if she didn’t. “Mercutio, peace. Thou talk'st of nothing."
    "True,” he admitted, as if suddenly allowed to breathe again. He jumped down from the bench, never letting go of her hand as he looked down into her eyes. “I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air, and more inconstant than the wind, who woos, even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being angered, puffs away from thence, turning his side to the dew-dropping South."
    A silence fell then, not that Lucy notice for the thundering of her heart in her ears. She felt like her whole body was shaking. He really needed to stop looking at her like that. 
    Suddenly he looked away and up to the ceiling. 
    "I think it's Benvolio after that," he said, speculatively. 
    "Yeah," Lucy said, breathlessly. "I think you're right."
    Eddie looked back down. Mercutio was gone and he was back to his usual teasing self. "Good?"
    "Good?" she repeated. "Eddie, that was…holy shit!”
    She covered her mouth with her hands in some vain attempt to hide her smile and surely obvious blush.  
    She could say a lot of things to say about his impromptu performance; amazing, transcendent, mind blowing, but the one she kept coming back to was hot.  It was very, very hot. She couldn’t for the life of her explain why, but it was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen him do. 
    This was worse than when he ran lines with her for As You Like It.  New rule going forward, never let Eddie Munson perform Shakespeare. It was bad for her health.
    It didn’t help that he was grinning at her now with the most adorably proud expression. 
    “Think I earned that extra credit then?” he teased.
    “I think you deserve a full ride to Julliard.”
    He laughed. She couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn his cheeks were slightly pink. 
    “Seriously, that was incredible,” she continued. “Why haven’t you auditioned before? You would be amazing.” 
    He waved her off. “Oh c’mon Henderson, you know the rules. Seniors take priority. If I join now they’d have to commit to a one man show. Wouldn’t be fair to the rest of you.” 
    “You should still give it a shot,” she insisted. “I think you’d fit right in.” 
“Yeah?”
    Lucy felt her stomach flip. The look in those beautiful brown eyes was so soft it made her melt. This was why she had been avoiding him. All it took was one innocent look and she was a goner. How did people handle this? 
    “Yeah,” she said, glancing away. “I mean, unless you’re still worried about your reputation.” 
    He snorted, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he pushed them both forward. 
    “How about this, after you’ve made your spectacular Broadway debut and if I’m not busy performing at The Garden, drop me a line. I’d be happy to do a reading.” 
    She nodded along.  “You’ll be my first call.” 
    They continued on like that for a little while, speaking of dreams as if they would someday be reality.  Lucy hoped they would and that maybe, someday, she’d be able to tell Eddie exactly how he fit into hers.
94 notes · View notes
chaewandz · 2 years
Text
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ rose ꒰ nishimura riki x fem!reader ꒱
chapter 05: the little victorian boy outfits
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“so why didn’t you two stay in contact?” joonie asked, arms folded across her chest in utter disbelief.
“I wasnt allowed to.” y/n shrugged her shoulders, careful not to disrupt the seamstress who was currently dressing y/n in her ballgown.
“I guess this means he had a crush on you?” isa realized, raising her eyebrows.
“SHHH. NO MORE COMMENTARY ON THIS.” y/n declared.
“so the competition is over before it even starts…” sakura frowned. “it’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to see them all fight for you in the haunted house.”
“what do you mean over? JUST BECAUSE WE WERE FRIENDS IN FRESHMAN YEAR MEANS IM AUTOMATICALLY GONNA PICK HEESEUNG?” y/n’s jaw dropped.
“well yeah?” youngeun replied like it was obvious.
“you guys stress me out.” y/n shook her head.
“pick sunoo so I can get free makeup.” isa suggested.
“NO PICK SUNGHOON! rich power couple I’m telling you!!!” sakura argued.
“yeonjun is so fine though. can we take the ones you reject??” youngeun asked.
“can you just put your fucking dresses on.”
the girls laughed, dashing to the clothing rack that held their ballgowns.
y/n couldn’t help but laugh back at her friends and their over the top excitement after only seeing the suitors through a television screen.
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“do you think she was watching?” heeseung asked, tying his shoes as he sat on the same leather couch as before the red carpet.
“I’d like to think so. i mean she wouldn’t miss our first appearances would she? or maybe she couldn’t because she was busy getting ready- I don’t know.” jake was clearly nervous, playing with the cuffs of his pants.
“dont be nervous!” heeseung interjected. “if you’re clearly nervous around her then this is all just gonna go wrong very quickly. she’ll also be able to tell if you’re nervous.”
“how do you know???”
“because you are so bad at hiding your emotions!” heeseung responded without missing a beat. it was a believable excuse anyway.
jake playfully nudged his shoulder and the two moved to sit in front of a mirror to get their hair done.
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“are we gonna have to dance…” hueningkai whispered in disbelief.
“oh my god are we- this is it for me. this is really it. I’m going to trip and fall and embarrass myself. might as well leave now to avoid the embarrassment.” beomgyu had his head in his hands.
taehyun just let out a deep sigh as he rolled his eyes.
“why do I always have to be the sensible one? hueningkai, yes you will have to dance. but the steps are easy and she isn’t gonna choose you based on your dance skills, it’s based on YOU! beomgyu, if you walk out of that door I’m going to smack you across the head. you won’t trip and fall. you will dance with her, just like all of us will and you will be a normal human being. both of you please get it together i am begging.” taehyun basically gave them a lecture, standing in front of the two who sat terrified on the couch.
“appreciate it mate.” beomgyu whispered in fear.
“fair enough.” hueningkai muttered.
“beomgyu please stop with the british accent-“ taehyun nearly slapped him right then and there.
“IT COMES OUT WHEN IM NERVOUS!!!”
“thats what she said.” hueningkai giggled.
taehyun was appalled, beomgyu nearly died laughing.
a usual sight among the trio.
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“jay i do respect you, but don’t you respect me as well? cant you at least accept the fact that you aren’t the only person on the earth to like the princess??” jungwon tried his best to approach jay calmly, but he could feel himself slowly losing it.
“of course I respect you jungwon. you’re my best friend for gods sake. and yes. i know I’m not the only person to like her, I just never thought you would feel the same! not when you spent so much time listening to me rant about how much I liked her!” jay never meant to snap at jungwon, he was right about how much their friendship meant to him. but he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of betrayal he felt.
jungwon sensed his change in demeanor and slowly sat down on the couch next to him, staring at the ground.
“I fucked up. i shouldve at least mentioned my feelings towards her beforehand. I’m sorry for breaking your trust, thats probably what I’m most upset about in this whole situation.” jungwon admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I guess a part of me knew I’d upset you, and that’s why I kept it from you. i also knew that if I didn’t apply then I would regret it for the rest of my life. i didn’t even expect to get in, and I definitely didn’t expect both of us to.” he fidgeted with his hands, still not looking up from the floor.
“and im sorry for snapping at you. i know you didn’t have bad intentions, you never do. thats like close to impossible for you.” jay chuckled, patting jungwon’s back, making him laugh as well.
“is it possible for us to be good?” this was when jungwon finally lifted his head to look jay in the eyes.
“i think so. why don’t we become each other’s wingman or something?? truly I’d take anything over us fighting or our friendship ending.”
“wingman it is.” jungwon extended his arm to shake jay’s hand, a symbol of a truce.
jay shook his hand and smiled.
“now that we’re good, can we practice dancing? this will be so humiliating otherwise.” jungwon laughed.
“of course.” jay nodded, the two getting up to practice dance steps.
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“who was stopping me from putting on a silly little victorian boy outfit before today. seriously. because I look a little too fine??” sunghoon turned and strutted around the dressing room towards the mirror.
niki and sunoo just exchanged looks of disgust.
“I feel embarrassment for you. how is that possible? why do I care about how you choose to humiliate yourself?” niki crossed his arms.
“stop being jealous, you will get wrinkles my dear riki.” sunghoon looked him up and down, then went back to strutting around.
“I desperately need to be out of this dressing room away from you both.” sunoo continued doing his makeup, with his own products of course.
“you’ll fall and break a bone trying to dance at the ball. that seems worse than a couple wrinkles but that’s just me.” niki sighed sarcastically.
“whatever you say grandpa!” sunghoon shrugged his shoulders.
then niki threw one of sunoo’s makeup wipes at him and ran and hid in the bathroom before sunghoon could even fight back.
“how is it that he’s always running from us somehow.” sunoo wondered, thinking back to when niki walked out on their photoshoot.
“he needs to be humbled.” was all sunghoon said, sunoo whispering “the irony…” back without him hearing.
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“the red carpet was even better than I imagined it to be. all of the photographers were so excited to see us??” yeonjun looked like he could start jumping around with the amount of energy he had.
“I know! I’m even more excited for the ball… I bet she’ll look so pretty… let’s not look stupid yeah?” soobin adjusted yeonjun’s hair.
“of course. I feel like the embarrassment from rugby is still there I really don’t want to relive anything close to that…” yeonjun shuddered at the thought.
“impossible. that was definitely rock bottom for you, I’m not sure you can hit it again so you’ll be good!”
“thank you soobin.” yeonjun smiled, even though he was being teased.
“of course! it also won’t be raining so the odds of you slipping-“
“ok you made your point.”
the two burst into laughter and went back to fixing each other’s hair and outfits.
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← previous masterlist next →
author’s note: ok so to recap! y/n’s Bffs discuss the heeseung problem w her as they get their ballgowns on (YES THE INDOOR EVEN IS A BALL🤭) jake and heeseung talk, heeseung using his insight on y/n to calm jake without seeming suspicious 🤞beomgyu, hueningkai, and taehyun are up to their usual antics. jay and jungwon make up 💖 my lovely jaywon Bffs. sunoo, niki, and sunghoon are up to their usual antics x2. yeonjun and soobin being sweet. i think they’re my fav duo …. AND YES BY LITTLE VICTORIAN BOY OUTFITS I MEAN THE ONES FROM BORDER CARNIVAL😭 thank u for reading bc we are finally getting somewhere
taglist: (open!!) @cwsana @emoworu @strwberrydinosaur @justbored48 @flwrsforriki @deafeningballoonnacho @faiirybread @captivq @1lovestrawberrymilk
send an ask to be added!!
synopsis: after she turns 18, y/n’s parents arrange a competition for young suitors in her town to compete for her love, a family tradition that brought about her parents’ marriage. twelve men are selected, but who will win her heart?
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blueeyedgeorgie · 3 years
Text
Scandalous(1)
An infamous Influencer that is known for getting into drama befriends ImAllexx, George doesn’t trust them one bit. 
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Gif cred. @sdmngifs
Pairing: George Memeulous x Reader
WC: 2.2k+
Pronouns: They/Them
____________
For the entire day, Alex seemed to constantly be on his feet. At first, George really didn't pay much attention to it, after all, sometimes people just have busy days. Usually for George, his days weren't anything special. He'd just wake up and lay around the house. He'd make sure to film a video every couple of days and could be found playing a bit of FIFA or COD. 
George didn't have much of a reason to leave his shared flat. He'd usually go over to one of his friend's places to hang out or film a collab, every now and then he'd go out shopping to get a couple of things for a video or just the flat. Still, George wasn't the type of person to find reasons to rush around or try and get as many tasks done as possible, it was one of the many perks that came with being a YouTuber.
It was normal to see Alex running around once in a while. He'd like to go out and do things like playing football with a few of his mates or just going out and being around people. But today seemed different, as though he was planning for something important to happen. 
At first, George didn't feel the need to ask his flatmate about what was going on. But while the day rolled on and Alex seemed to only go back and forth from making phone calls to typing away on his computer, George's curiosity had begun to eat himself up from inside.
As the afternoon rolled around, George found himself seated on the couch. He had been wasting a good portion of his day watching whatever he could find on the TV that was actually interesting. Earlier he had filmed a few videos for his second channel, he looked at the Reddit page for usual funny content and then proceeded to go on a Twitter page and look at nostalgic videos and photos for a second video.
Usually with some luck, George would be able to find something good to put on TV, but today just seemed like one of those days where you couldn't find anything good to watch. So as a final resort, he had turned on some Spongebob cartoons, it seemed like he only had enough luck to have the old cartoons from the early 2000's play. 
While watching the yellow sponge on TV, George had checked a few of his social medias, wondering if there was anything else that was going on that could possibly hold his attention for longer than ten minutes.
Maybe he just needed a new hobby, something to keep attention for more than five minutes. FIFA was fun, but you could only play it so many times.
"Hey George?"
The sound of his flatmate's voice had pulled him out of his thoughts. Standing behind the couch, Alex was typing away on his iPhone. He had taken a quick look to make eye contact with George before returning to his text messages. Turning around, the brunette man gave his attention to his flatmate, "What's up?"
"I don't know if you remembered, but I'm having someone come out to the UK to spend a couple of days with me to film some collabs and just get to know each other," sliding his phone in his back pocket, Alex shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hopefully this turns out all good."
How did this slip his mind? Alex had been mentioning he was planning to do this with someone for the past couple of weeks. As the days rolled on, when he became busier and busier, it all made sense. Alex was only making sure everything was going to go smoothly when whoever was going to come to the UK.
"Shit, that totally slipped my mind, sorry," George brushed a hand through his hair with a short sigh. "Are they gonna stay with us or are they staying at a hotel? Maybe they're doing something completely different."
"Hotel," as he responded, Alex began to rock back and forth on the heels of his feet. "They're gonna get here in two days and when they show up me and a couple of our friends are gonna go out and get some drinks, just to get more comfortable with one another. You coming with us?"
"I don't see why not," giving a shrug, George leaned his head against the palm of his hand, supporting his head to sit at a certain angle. "Are you interested in this influencer or something, you keep saying you wanna get comfortable with them."
"Well, they aren't really my type. Also, they're gonna be hanging around us for a few days, so of course I wanna be comfortable around them."
"Who even is 'they'? Does this influencer have a name?" George let out another sigh as he looked up at his flatmate. 
"They're Y/n L/n."
Y/n L/n, George had heard that name a few times in the influencer world. One thing he knew for sure, Y/n was much bigger than both Alex and George's channels combined. So why was Y/n planning to come and hang around them for a while?
That wasn't the only question rushing through George's mind, from what he had heard about Y/n (which was very little) he knew they were a very scandalous person. Having them around didn't seem like too bright of an idea, maybe Alex just wanted to collab with them to gain a bit more in subscribers... George knew it'd be smart to keep Y/n at arm's length while they'd be in the UK. After all, they'd only be here for a couple of days, so how hard could it be?
"Oh."
"Just 'oh'?" Alex raised a brow at his flatmate, "What is it?"
"Nothing, I just took me a moment to realize who they were," George turned back to face the TV, implying the conversation had come to an end.   
"Alright, I'm gonna get back to making sure the flat isn't a typical mess," Alex sighed, taking a step back from the couch.
"Cool," George mumbled as he watching the yellow sponge on TV run beside a pink star. 
If Y/n got Alex caught up in anymore drama, he'd have a fit. He had seen his flatmate come so far since the last time drama was in his life. There'd be a chance that would grow bigger and bigger everytime they hung out that Alex could get caught up in a scandal. 
Even though Alex's a grown adult, sometimes he could make really stupid decisions. But that was the thing, Alex is a human being, he's allowed to make mistakes. All George wanted for this whole collab to into come back around and bite Alex in the ass. But it was too late, Y/n was going to be here soon and whatever happens, just happens. There wasn't much George could do besides distancing himself away from Y/n.
"Alright, I think I have enough shirts, I better go double-check to see if I have my toiletries all packed up," Y/n had mumbled under their breath in the midst of packing. Even though they were a big YouTuber and could simply pay someone to pack for them, Y/n had decided to pack for this one trip. 
"Y/n, where the fuck are you?" 
The sound of someone's voice had become louder, Y/n could tell their friend was entering their bedroom.
"I'm just in the bathroom, Bret!" They had responded while looking underneath their bathroom sink for a few more toiletries. 
"Are you seriously leaving?" The one and only Bretman Rock stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking down at his friend. 
"Well yeah, I've been planning this trip for the past couple of weeks," Y/n looked up at the makeup influencer. Bretman and Y/n had been friends since forever, they had gone through so much together. 
"You're gonna miss James's party next Saturday," he moved aside, letting the other influencer in the room past by. 
"It's just one party," they had let out a short scoff while working on packaging their bathroom items properly. "James always throws parties, I'll go to the next one."
"Fine bitch," Bretman had tossed himself onto Y/n's bed, making their suitcase jump a little with everything else that had been laid out on Y/n's bed. "Why are you even going to London?"
"Well, I'm planning to meet up with a friend to make some videos together and just hang out," Y/n shrugged as they tucked away a few more items into their suitcase.
"Who?"
"He goes by ImAllexx on YouTube."
Bretman shook his head as he watched his friend, "I have absolutely never heard of them... ever."
"Yeah, his channel is smaller than either of ours."
"Lemme tell you now, if you're secretly doing some long-distance relationship with him and haven't bothered to tell me any tea yet, I will literally kill you," the raven-haired man laid on his back, beginning to fidget with the rings that sat on his fingers.
"I'm telling you now, Bret. Alex is only a friend, he's like a brother," they tsked at their friend as they zipped up their suitcase, finally finishing packing. 
"Fine, but if I find out you end up hooking up with some British boys over there and don't tell me... like I said, you'll be  dead bitch."
"Calm down, you know I can't keep secrets from you," Y/n flashed a cheeky grin at their friend while sliding the suitcase off of the bed. "I had two hours before I head to the airport, what do you wanna do?" For the past couple of weeks, Y/n had been counting down the days until they would leave for London. No doubt about it, they were excited. It wasn't often for them to make friends with other Influencers or people in general. So when they got the chance to make friends with a small commentary YouTuber that went by the name of ImAllexx, they had made sure to be as kind as possible.
At this point it was truly hard for Y/n to make friends, most people didn't like them based on the rumors that had spread about Y/n. Others that usually tried to be Y/n's friends were merely using them for money and fame. It became hard for Y/n to trust people and get close to them. So how did Alex pull off gaining Y/n's trust?
Y/n one day had been scrolling through YouTube, looking for something to watch. At this point, they had seen almost everything, vlogs, challenges, makeup, drama, and more. But one video had popped up into Y/n's recommended videos that had caught their eye.
'We Need to Stop Y/n L/n.'
It was normal for Y/n to see these types of videos, usually they'd come from Drama channels trying to cancel them. But this one had come from a YouTuber with the name, 'ImAllexx'. It was normal for Y/n to scroll when they came across these types of videos, but the video seemed a bit intriguing considering the thumbnail was only a simple picture of themself against a blue background.  So of course, Y/n clicked on the video only to hear; "Hello everyone, I'm Alex..."
Y/n found the video quite funny, when they'd watch videos made on them, the videos were typically quite harsh and mean. With Alex, he seemed like the type of person to be able to take a joke. His whole video was on an Instagram post Y/n had made a week or two before Alex had posted his video, he had just been taking the piss out of the photo as a joke. 
And after finishing that video and having a laugh, Y/n continued to watch more of Alex's videos, just to see if he was seemingly a decent guy. And somehow, they got hooked on Alex's videos. And by the end of the day, they had binged a good amount of his content. 
A few days after discovering Alex and his content, Y/n had decided to check out a few of his social medias. That's when Y/n had found out he was already following them on both Instagram and Twitter.
When Alex checked Instagram a while later, he was surprised to find that @y/nl/n was now following him. Y/n was almost four times(if not more) the popularity size of Alex, so how had they noticed him? He was a bit nervous at first, why would someone like Y/n follow him?
Instead of anxiety getting the best of Alex, he had decided to do something to try and figure out why of all people, @y/nl/n had decided to follow him. So he had been careful with sliding into Y/n's DMS, only to ask why they had followed him. ANd moments later, Y/n responded to him. 
'I've just been binge-watching your content lately and I thought that you were funny so I followed you. :)'
At first, Alex felt like it could possibly be a trap, but he continued to message back and forth with Y/n. After a while, Alex had realized that maybe Y/n wasn't as scandalous and dramatic as people made them out to be. As the days rolled on and they continued to talk, they had ended up developing a friendship.
After a couple of months of talking and coming closer and closer, Alex had asked if Y/n would want to fly out to the UK from LA to film a couple of collabs and hang out in person. Y/n had easily accepted his invitation, and just like that, A date was set for Y/n to fly out to London.
Taglist: @ivory-raptor @breakfast-cereal @snowcones404​ @golden-hoax​ 
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esha-isboogara · 2 years
Text
under the desk support
i wish i liked people in a normal way but here i am. it is like 1 am and i am writing about a youtuber who makes reaction videos.
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“Willll”~ she called in a sing-song voice knocking on the door, not bothering to wait for a response before opening it. She did this so often she was sure he would not mind anymore. Not like he has a choice either way. It was just as much her flat as it was his.
Y/n was not going to let him ignore her for too long.
He looked up from his laptop, his steel colored eyes taking her in from head to toe before focusing back on his work. He did not have time for distractions. And her just standing there was more of a distraction than anything “I’m not yet done with this video so don’t even think about asking me again”.
“I can’t come visit my favorite person in the whole wide world just because I want to? I am beyond heartbroken”. A playful pout came onto her face as she entered his room. “I get to missing you when i’m allll alone ..” Her voice trailed off as she stood behind him and leaned down, draping her arms around his shoulders while nuzzling his face.
“I’m sure you do love, but i’m busy like i had said earlier. Do you need something”?
With not a care in the world she pulled his chair back and placed herself on his lap. “Actually I was hoping to help YOU Will. I can tell how stressed you are. And since you’re my most favorite boyfriend in the whole entire world I’m going to help you out”.
She was not incorrect. Things have been all over the place recently. He had been working himself to the bone editing videos , recording live streams and planning out ideas.
“Y/n I really appreciate your concern for me. Really I do. But I’m not really sure there is anything you can do for me right now”.
She smiled,a big toothy grin. “Let me just try and help you relax and if it doesn’t work I’ll leave you alone”
He could tell by her expression she had something devious on her mind.
Shifting her position again she drops down and makes her way down under the desk. Her face was resting between his thighs. “Please Will? I promise it’ll be worth it. It’ll be good for you”.
He wanted to say yes so badly. Oh how he wanted to just fuck her face right there. But he had to at least attempt to have some control over himself.
“Y/n I’m working right now. If someone caught us….”
“I don’t think you’d mind”. she replied with a grin, moving her face closer to his crotch. “In fact I think if one of your friends were to walk through that door and happened to come across me with a mouth stuffed full of your cock you’d enjoy every second of it”.
His cock twitched at the thought of her doing such a thing to him. And in his office of all places.
“You need to unwind just let me help this once please Will”?
He sighed in defeat. How could he say no to those begging eyes ? And lord knows he needed this. Who was he to turn down such an opportunity.
He ran his fingers through her hair. “Alright lass , go ahead”.
Her eyes visibly lit up with excitement. “I knew you’d say yes! Don’t worry I will totally make this worth your time”.
She was quick to pull his waistband down and allow his cock to greet her. It was hard to contain her excitement.
“Go on now , on with it”. Will urged ,pushing her face down towards his member “show me how eager you are to please me”.
Hearing those words set her off even more , she was careful not to slam her head on the wood of his desk as she slowly ran her tongue along the hardened length. She repeated this several more times, wanting to savor every moment of this wonderful moment.
“Don’t be a tease Y/n I have work to do. Behave”. Will warned you in a stern tone. You know he was beginning to crack though.
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memeuloves · 4 years
Text
ImAllexx x Memeulous (NSFW)
it was an early morning and george's head was fucking banging. he opened his eyes and hissed in pain. that light was so fucking bright even a sober man couldn't look at it. he clenched the nearest pillow to him and tried to fall back asleep but failed miserably, partly due to the fact his fucking doorbell went off. he sighed as he opened his heavy eyes, once again hissing at the beams of light hitting his eyes. full of dread he moved himself off his bed and to his door. the person who was at it must've been pretty impatience becuase they had rung it a solid 7 times now and george was going to cave their fucking skull in if they clicked that button one more times
to the person outside the doors luck, they didn't becuase george was definitely going to spark them if they did. he hesitenly opened the door but didn't regret it. he was greeted by a man taller then him by two inches. he bite his bottom lip and studied the man infront of him. he wasn't going to lie he was stunning. his trim was a bit uneven but other than that he was perfect.
he was wearing a slightly oversized, black hoodie with a daisy embroidered into it. he wore light blue, skinny, ripped jeans which george thought look. absolutely amazing on him. the man stood awkwardly with his hands behind his back, shifting his weight from one leg to another.
occasionally he would bring his hand up to his mouth and start biting the skin around his nails. it was obvious to george this man was nervous and he was going to play on it, especially since he was high-key cute.
"urm hey, is there any particular reason why you've rang my door bell 7 fucking times this early in the morning?" he said, half jokingly.
the mans face instantly looked more full of fear and george sighed. he beautiful man went to talk.
"ugh hey, m- my names alex and we met last night. basically you punched a massive hole in my door and you gave me your apartment number and said you'd worry about it today. i'm so sorry if i'm interrupting anything but i can't afford-"
george cut him off with own words. he knew that this man was familiar but he has no memory of breaking down his door. he sighed and spoke.
"i'm gonna be fucking honest with ya mate, i have no memory of harming your door in any shape or form but i'm willing to pay for the repairs. how much do you want for it?" he asked, finally making eye contact with the man named alex.
alex sighed. "you see that's the problem, i kinda didn't tell the whole truth. you didn't just punch a hole in it, you took it off it's hinges." he added, slightly upset. he saw the look of confusion and shock on george's face and continued his stream of words. "maybe you should come down and see it for yourself." alex just knew that there was no way his door was getting properly fixed anytime soon.
and alex wasn't going to lie, the door wasn't exactly his only worry.
the man who he was pretty sure he was going to hate for the rest of his life was pretty cute, but he wasn't going to let that distract him. george agreed to go and have a look at the door and went to grab his coat. alex chuckled at him slightly before commenting.
"mate we're not even going outside you're walking down a flight of stairs." he smiled as george flipped him off.
"fuck off mate you're not the hungover one i can do what i like." he joked as he his black puffer jacket and made his way down stairs with the neighbour he never knew about but he wished he did becuase he was as hot as fire.
on the way down there wasn't much conversation, there was a little bit of awkward 'how're you feeling'
but other than that it was shit. but he knew not many people would want to speak to the person who supposedly took their door of the fucking hinges.
when they arrived at alex's front door, or what was left of it, george was impressed with himself to be completely honest. he was only 5’u and wasn't very strong at all but yet there lay his neighbours door. it was a rather sad looking door when george came to think of it. it was just lay there up against the wall. george shot alex an apologetic look before speaking.
"yeah mate i'm fucking sorry about that, how much do i owe ya?" he asked as he pulled out his
alex looked down, almost as if he was sad. "i called the land lord last night, he said around £1,500 minimum."
george was took aback, he knew getting things replaced was expensive but not that much. the landlord was clearly trying to pocket a few extra quid.
"jesus christ mate, you'd have to suck me off to get that." he joked, wincing a little at his own words.
he looked over at alex who's face portrayed so many emotions at the same time george couldn't be arsed to decipher them. suddenly he felt the headache roll in.
"for fucks sake." he cried. he looked over to alex who looked even more confused then before.
"y- you alright mate. do you need anything?" he questioned, the pure terror in his voice lingered in the air.
"yeah mate just a the hangover kicking in." he faked a smiled at alex. alex modded his head in understanding and went to speak.
"i get ya mate, i should have some aspirin in the cupboard, you can come in if you like. not that there's a door from stopping you" he joked. he moved his arm to point into his flat to signal the man who had took his door of the hinges into his home.
george smiled and accept his offer.
alex had told him to sit down on the sofa whilst he got some water and painkillers; george nodded greatfully. alex arrived with two aspirin in one hand and a glass of water in the other. alex handed George the aspirin and then the water. he watched him take the pills before speaking.
he sat down on the other peice of furniture he had in his living room. his living room was rather bland. it had cream walls a and a cream soda which alex had been rather brave to choose that colour as he was very fucking clumsy and spilt every ever on anything in sight. surprisingly there wasn't any stains of spilt pasta sauce on it just yet.
"so ugh mate, i don't even know your name." he smiled, trying to lighten the mood before getting to his method of payment.
george chuckled a little before speaking. "i'm george." he held his hand out waiting for alex to return his handshake. alex mimicked george’s movements before returning to what he was going to say before hand.
"so ugh, george." he trembled "about what you said earlier, about; the method of payment dare i say." he grinned a little. he looked over at george's smug little face. he knew exactly what he was going to say and alex had no complaints.
"d- do i really need to, ya know, suck you off to get my door fixed?" he smirked and looked down at the floor, a light shade of pink painting his cheeks.
the entire vibe of the room shifted in a instant. george reply quickly.
"no! no of course not! i was only joking. i can hand u the £1,500 and i'll be one my way." he smiled.
he would admit that yes, he was horny and he would like this extremely attractive man who stood infront of him to suck him off but he could tell he didn't have much money to live off and making him do anything like that was basically prostitution. now that he thought about it maybe he could give him an extra £700 maybe to help him, or as i 'i'm sorry i took your fucking door of the hinges' thing.  
alex looked up at george and smirked slightly, he knew exactly what to do from here.
"awe but are you sure, i was kinda looking forward to sucking you off. you know since you're incredibly attractive and all i thought it would've been fun." he put on his best puppy dog eyes and looked back up at george who alex who 100% certain was getting a hard on right now.
george knew he shouldn't do this, but yet if felt so right. like he should just go with it. but maybe that was just lust, or hornyness. probaly the latter.
"f-fuck alex i don't know how to respond. like if you well and truly want to suck me off go for it becuase i have a slight problem here." he joked. he really hoped alex would choose to suck his cock becuase otherwise he A) made himself look like a bellend and B) embarrassed himself.
alex giggled a little and sat next to george, he placed a hand in george's thigh and made small circles with his fingers on the inside of his legs. he could see george getting more horny by the minute and he was enjoying watch it a lot.
"so what do you say lover boy, is it okay for me to suck that cock of yours?" he asked, moving his hands up slightly to george's zipper.
george couldn't believe what was happening, the man who had knocked on his door all of half an hour ago becuase when he was shitfaced he took his door of the hinges was now about to suck him off and he wasn't to sure if it would stop there. he took a sharp breath in as alex continued to make circles on his thighs before speaking.
"y- yes you do. please just hurry." he spat out, trying not to sound desperate but he knew really he sounded like a little whore.
alex smirked victoriously and slowly unzipped georges jeans, he placed his other hand around just the waistband of just the jeans and rather skilfully  pulled them off georges body without any trouble. he decided to tease george a little bit, see how far he can make him go before he begs for it.
he placed his hand over georges now rather large bulge and started palming him through his boxes slowly. georges head rocked back in pleasure but he could tell it wasn't enough. he adjusted he grip a little so he could palm him slightly faster. georges face told it all really and alex found it rather amusing. with one hand still resting on georges crotch he wrapped his free hands fingers through the waistband of his calvin klien boxers and let his hand roam free. alex handing yet removed georges boxed so he had to guess by touch but he was rather took back by the good condition his area was in. he was even trimmed alex chuckled to himself. he hoped george didn't hear him but he knew he was to caught up in his own world to care or even hear.
alex fully removed george's boxers and grabbed his length as he started making a pumping motion with his hand. george couldn't even say anything he was so caught up in it, all that could escape his mouth were a few little wimpers and the occasional louder moan. alex took that as a sign that george was enjoying the current situation and gave himself a mental pat on the back. he leant over slightly to angel himself in such way he could take george's length in his mouth. once he found it he looked up at george who was practically begging for it at this point.
"a-alex please touch me, i don't care weather it's your hands or your mouth i-  just really need you right now" he moaned.
alex found this highly entertaining.
he took george's cock in his mouth and started slow. he swished his tongue around his cock making george moan even more. he sped up, adjusting his head to a rhythm and moving his tounge faster. by now george was a moaning mess and he could feel it. but the other thing he could feel was his own jeans getting tighter.
he got george close to finishing before stopping and looking up at him. george clearly wasn't happy but he wasn't going to ask questions.
alex stood up before talking.
"george do you want to fuck? it's fine if not,
don't feel pressured” he smiled at george who he was pretty sure still had his eyes closed anyways. he waited for his reply nervously, wondering if he over-stepped a boundary.
"y- yes alex. please" he whined, practically begging.
alex made his way over to his cupboard full of wonder and fun things. he pulled out a small, pink viabrator and some lube. he made he was back over to where george was sat.
"do you want me to loosen you up or do you just want to go straight in?" he asked, refuring to the dildo in his hands.
"n- no alex, just get inside me." he whined.
alex pulled down his own jeans and boxers before applying the lube to his own cock and a small amount into george.
"you ready?" he asked george who was already in position
"what do you fucking think of course i'm ready" he whined.
alex giggled before pushing himself of george. instantly he felt relieved, he didn't know he was so horny but he wasn't complaining. george was letting out rather audible moans and occasionally screaming alex's name. he grabbed onto george's hips tighter and thrusted harder into him. he could tell george was having the time of his life and so was alex.
he wasn't gonna lie, this was one of the best fucks he'd had.
it wasn't much longer until george was cumming and it definitely wasn't much longer after that until alex came. he pulled out of george and let out one last moan before grabbing a random t-shirt which was on the floor to clean up the current messes on to couch and -luckily- wooden floor.
you know how alex said eairler that there wasn't any stains on the couch, well there definitely was now and he knew that wasn't going to be a fun story to explain to eveyone.
he looked over at george who had only just came down from his high and smiled.
"how was it?" he asked, smirking a little
george let our a breath before replying. "f- fucking amazing." he said as alex just giggled.
"i hope we can do that more often, you know since you live directly under me." george smiled.
alex thought about that for a minute. yeah he would like to keep fucking his neighbour senseless as much as he could. especially if he looked like that.
"yeah, you know i think we might be doing that more often"
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nationalharryleague · 3 years
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One Day
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Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Genre: Drunk!Harry Fluff!
Word count: 2K
A/N: Hi all! This is some drunk boyfriend harry fluff that I just love sm. It’s based off of “One Day” by Catie Turner (I highly recommend listening to it!!) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think in my ask! Thank you so much for reading! 
***
Harry was the life of the party when he wanted to be. He knew how to let loose, with a tequila on the rocks in one hand and a beer in the other, ready to party until he (literally) dropped. He always ended up on some sort of elevated surface like a teenage girl, usually a kitchen island or an absurdly expensive coffee table, singing along to whatever music was playing, magically knowing every word to whatever came over the speakers. Sometimes he would get lost in the winding corridors of the massive mansions his friends lived in, taking a wrong turn in his enhibrated state and ending up somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. There was also one time he jumped off a (thankfully low) roof into the swimming pool below.
But usually, he was calm, cool, and collected; gently sipping on a single drink he would nurse for most of the night. The two of you liked to sit and watch during these parties, his hand settling securely on your waist, keeping you close to him and away from the chaos that unfolded before you. You would curl up on a couch somewhere and just watch it all play out like it was an observational study, often giving commentary and ranking people and their drunk dancing out of 10.
“I feel like we're the mean girls in the corner of the cafeteria who just sit and silently judge everyone around them,” you would giggle, nuzzling yourself further into his side.
“That’s because we are the mean girls in the corner judging everyone around them, sweetheart” he would reply, in a slightly buzzed drawl.
But tonight was not one of those nights. And Harry had ended up standing on top of the dining room table scream-singing ABBA at the top of his lungs.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic and messy performance. His limbs flailed freely as he wiggled his hips along to the beat of Dancing Queen, singing into a small statue of a naked woman he had picked up off an end table that you assumed to be very, very expensive, like it was a microphone. He wore a pair of high rise denim flares that swayed along with his movements to the music and his white “Women are Smarter'' shirt was now stuck to his body with sweat, just see through enough for his butterfly to make an appearance.
He only came down after a green malaise began to settle over his features, skin slightly clammy and a bit pale. You extended a hand, helping his loopy body down off the table and letting him settle into your side for support once he was on solid ground again. “Let’s head to the bathroom, H,” you said gently, trying to settle the panic that was beginning to crawl into his eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”
Once he got to the beautifully large and extravagant bathroom, he crawled into a small, or as small as the large man could make himself, ball and rested his hot clammy cheeks against the cool marble of the floor. “May have overdone it,” he grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as you were sure the room was spinning for him.
“Ya think?” you teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when you were met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” You carefully dug through the cabinets, knowing there had to be washcloths somewhere in the lavish room, and once you found one you dampened it with cold water. Settling down on the tile next to him, you pulled him and his sweaty curls on to your lap, wiping the layer of sweat delicately from his skin and then resting the cold cloth on his forehead.
You two stayed in this position for a while, carefully rubbing his back in an effort to sooth the large man and trying to ignore the loud music that was still shaking the house around you. He looked small like this, no longer your giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. You were happy to be that person, as he always was for you.
This was the first time you had ever seen him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end. He had been working like a dog, constantly in and out of the studio, frustrated that none of the songs he was writing were up to his astronomically high standards for himself. It wasn’t too shocking that he was trying to escape that stress.
Gradually, as he laid on the floor and you held him close, the color came back into his cheeks and he stopped holding onto your legs like the room was about to take flight. When you sat him up against the wall, he was still a bit wobbly, but no longer looked like he was about to unload his stomach contents all over the room.
“How are you feeling now, H?” you asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress as you dabbed the washcloth over his skin.
“’m okay,” he hiccuped back, “jus’ needed a cuddle.” He got exceptionally British when he got this drunk, his accent coming out in a barely distinguishable garble of tall vowels and dropped consonants, his tongue heavy in his mouth.
His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at you, his light green eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off too one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.
You should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. His behavior and subsequent need for you to take care of him should have gotten under your skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into your chest. But it didn’t. You were just taking care of your man.
“Do you still feel nauseous?”
“‘m a-ok, babay” he said, making himself giggle with his rhyme. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “OK” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the tile beneath him.
“Okay, funny man,” you began sarcastically, planning on instructing to drink the glass of water you had retrieved on your way up to the bathroom, when he cut you off.
“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the loud belly laugh that fell past your lips. He took the glass from you and began to sip, a proud smirk never leaving his lips as he looked at you.
“You were a comedian in a past life.”
“I agree.”
You two were quiet for a bit, Harry drinking something other than tequila for the first time the entire night, and you just admiring him in silence. You let your hand crawl into his, interlocking your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. It wasn’t long before his glass of water was finished and he crawled back into your arms, his back pressing to your chest with your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his still damp curls, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when you heard the little happy mewls coming from him.
“Ya take such good care of me,” he said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence you two had created together.
“I always will.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the hard wall behind you.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
You hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign, to both of you. But you meant it when you said it, you loved him, and your body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved you too.
You had met through work when you interviewed him for the magazine you worked at. From the moment you saw those dimples in real life, you were weak in the knees and enamored with him. You hadn’t been trying to flirt, it just happened. And before he left the office, you had a date planned for that Friday. That was 6 months ago now and they had been some of the happiest of your life.
“Will you marry me?”
The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took you a moment to process what he said, but when you did your heart stopped.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, because you did, but not now.
It was too soon. There was still too much for you to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about you. You hadn’t even had a serious fight yet; you didn’t know how he dealt with conflict or how you would react to it. You didn’t live together; you didn’t know how your living habits would match up or if they would drive each other insane. You didn’t know how you would deal with him touring being away for so long.
There was just too much you didn't know.
“I will someday.” You spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. You were now holding his face tenderly, like if you held him steady and close, you could lessen the blow.
“So, no?” he looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch you in the gut.
“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”
“Jus’ wanna be with you forever,” he said softly and your heart began to melt. He was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and you loved him for it. You pulled him closer to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.
“And you will be,” you breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”
“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like tequila and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as you tried to pour all your love for him into it.
“Because we still have to grow,” you watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about you both being grown already. “We have to grow together,” you finished.
“I guess so,” he mused softly.
“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”
“Someday,” he repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, ya know?” he smirked up at you, his smile and joking tone signalling that you hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.
“That’s perfectly okay,” you sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to your own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, ya know?” you teased, using his own words against him.
“One day, I’ll make an honest woman outta ya when you let me.”
“One day.”
Thank you reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!! 
963 notes · View notes
nettlestonenell · 4 years
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Armie Hammer wants a sequel to The Man From U.N.C.L.E.—shouldn’t you?
This post is a long time in coming, Gentle Readers and @jammeke​, but now, though it might be here, before your very eyes, to think it will be well-laid out would be a mistake. It’s set to be just about as messy as Ilya’s misplaced loyalties and murky motivations.
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How dare!
I probably first watched this film well over a year ago (courtesy @jammeke​ posting things about it). I used Sling OnDemand (I think on TNT). In the ensuing viewings I also watched it in that way, but as I was sitting down for a fourth(?) viewing, it kept coming to me that I was tired of watching it with commercials I couldn’t skip, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it had been edited for time and I was missing out on scenes. [pointless aside: I was also watching the film in chunks, and never as a whole]
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Where is she now? What’s the time stamp? How far along did she get? Are you shagging the hotel hostess yet?
So, I, uh, set out to buy it on DVD—without any luck! In the sense that copies I could find cost more (w/ shipping) than buying it to stream. So, I bought it to stream on Amazon. Do I regret my choice, Gentle Readers? No, no I don’t. I do regret burden of knowledge in learning that TNT was already playing the entirety of the film. That was a hard pill to swallow.
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Nope, I’ve looked. That’s absolutely everything. Nothing additional lurking around here...
So here it is, as it is, @jammeke, “My Notes on The Man from U.N.C.L.E.”
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Look, I don’t know what this film is. I probably can’t fully articulate its appeal. Or maybe I can--certainly after transcribing four page I’ve tried. Number One thing to know about me and fiction/films is that a top draw for me is seeing something out of the ordinary, such as beautiful locations, a historical era, delicious costumes. There are times, frankly, this can trump weak story and undefined character for me. (The best films, of course, combine all three) Certainly, The Man... delivers in the delight of the eyes. Additionally, I must confess that growing up as a person older than @reblogginhood​ but younger than Miss Fisher, so much of what was on TV was essentially reruns of this film’s iconic Look(tm). So, when I see women dressed like Gaby I am just another three-to-seven-year-old overcome with the drop dead glamour of it all.
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Darling, tell me how you really feel...
Some questions I have:
·         IS Armie Hammer a hulk of a man? Everyone in this film seems to think so, yet he always tracks to me as trim (rather than hulking)
·         Why translate via captions some Russian speaking, but not all?
·         IS Napoleon’s backstory directly cribbed from USA’s White Collar?
·         DOES Gaby have a German accent?
·         Does Ilya get preternaturally attached to all the people he’s ordered to look after? Also, what is his bonding rate with kittens?
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Sorry, wrong iteration. 
 ·         If Lady Villain knows the lens is wrong—if her technical understanding is that in-depth--does she really need Gaby’s dad to make the bomb?
·         How old was Gaby during the war?
·         What happens when Ilya gets a NEW puppy assigned to him? (please let this be addressed in film #2)
Hooray for:
·         That bathroom fight! *all the Burn Notice feels!
·         Gaby is her own lady, and chooses sides as necessary—not always unilateral in her support for either male character. Case in point: she sides with Ilya over the clothes, and Napoleon over the incident of the wallet.
·         That delicious (speaking as Rusty, here) Ocean’s 11-stylized action. It’s pretty, so I’m not bored with it. Sometimes a sandwiched montage gets shown, so I’m REALLY not bored. I’ve got 18 tiny moving boxes of things to look at!
·         Pinkie rings. There, you’ve told me everything I need to know about that character.
·         Solo in a beret. English has not yet found a word for the feeling it evoked in this viewer. Somewhere between ‘precious’ and ‘oh, no’.
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See, there? Now you’ve felt it too.
·         Goggles! All the accessories! Dune Buggies! (I mean, that’s what I’m calling Napoleon’s chase-scene ride)
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Things I adore:
·         It seems (after some research) that more than a few folks view Gaby as a third wheel, and though she’s not exactly a Princess Leia commandeering her own rescue and exuding competence and a deserved take-charge-attitude at every corner, she IS a foci for both male characters (though romantically it would seem only for one), just as Ilya is a foci for both her and Napoleon [no one seems to worry about Napoleon, though they should--film #2, anyone?]
·         Mechanic Gaby not needing a beauty makeover, or being dragged into one. She gets some nice clothes, but it’s never suggested that she’s not attractive or acceptable before putting them on, and I respect, nay, embrace it.
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Oh, my heart. She’s still not as tall as them!
·         Ilya, drab pigeon Ilya, knowing fashion
·         Oh man, don’t even get me started on the power of the statement, “it doesn’t have to match”
·         You knew it was coming on this sublist: the wrestle-fight. I mean, c’mon. Poor little Gaby, locked behind the Iron Curtain, living a life of always being watched. She’s in the swankest hotel (I mean, Napoleon chose it, so we can be sure it’s swank with an E). She’s trying to celebrate her freedom, her liberation. She’s playing verboten music, she’s drinking to excess. Girl wants—and deserves—a party. And Ilya is…not built for that (that he knows of). For some fun, just imagine if she had been given Napoleon to room with instead.
                            o   I will say that this scene, and some of their other interactions have what I would call early (non-sibling) Luke and Leia energy. Ilya seems to have moments of being struck by Gaby in a way Luke is struck by Leia in the early part of the trilogy. When Leia takes charge, and Luke accepts it. When Leia does something incredible, and Luke is left open-mouthed. *no, I don’t see OT Star Wars in everything. Shut up.
·         “He fixed the glitch.”
·         Again, shout-out to the non-action action.
·         “I left my jacket in there.”
·         The whole race to rescue Gaby I am in love with beyond words. [I have noted it as “Crazy Jeep Drive with Warhead!”] Probably b/c it comes across as totally egalitarian. Both men want her rescued. They’re no longer in competition. It’s just as important to Napoleon as it is to Ilya to catch up to her. Also, it is bonkers, like some sort of X-games version of a commercial for the vehicles they’re driving. And screaming Willie Scott does not make an appearance.
         Someone says “winkle” out.
·         Look! Another note about the screen divisions and how I love it, shout-outs to the original Steve McQueen The Thomas Crown Affair (a contemporary of when this movie is meant to be set), and TV’s 24.
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Things that get a great, big NOPE:
·         Jerrod Harris: you’ve been in so much streamable content in the last decade I can’t hate you, but frankly, you’re terrible here—unless you’re supposed to be giving a mannered, not-campy-enough-to-be-enjoyable performance here. Your American English puts me in the mind of Alex Hawaii 5-0′Loughlin where it feels you’re concentrating so hard on your accent that you fail to convince anyone that you’re a harried, over-worked and exasperated spy handler. Your performance is at odds with every bit of dialogue you’re given to say.
·         That awful, mishandled title that doesn’t even connect to the film until the final moments (a sequel set-up, for sure)
·         Look, you don’t introduce Hugh Grant casually mid-way through your film in a throwaway appearance. I mean, he’s HUGH GRANT we all know something’s up now.
·         This is not exactly a great big NOPE, b/c I love a flat cap, Tommy Shelby—but I feel like a less tall man with a far rounder face in a flat cap would track more as Russian to me that AH does. To me, he just looks like he’s about to go golfing.
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Over par? Unacceptable!
·         Is Victoria a British-accented Italian? A British woman who married—what? Gaby’s uncle isn’t Italian!? An Italian who went to school in Britain? My head hurts. Also, is her hair meant to be unconvincingly bleached?
Other commentary:
·         Napoleon’s adult ne’er-do-well backstory is so far from being emotionally equivalent to Ilya’s childhood trauma [and his enslavement to the USSR] it seems bestial when he calls it out on multiple occasions. Badly done, Solo.
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·         Gaby is the film’s key (sorry, Buffy fans). Everyone is connected to her. Yes, she could have been given a bit more on the character front, but I don’t see her as as much of a flaw in the film as some others/reviewers seem to.
·         Look, essentially (and not very nuanced-ly), Ilya is a stalker. I think the film goes a certain distance in establishing that his early behavior toward Gaby is not normal, but concurrently it does not truly call him out on it. He’s essentially viewed as an odd-duck, sure, but not a true threat to her (should she not reciprocate or tolerate his intensity toward her). I think I might be able to cite his behavior when Gaby comes on to him (that he doesn’t jump at a chance with her) that maybe he’s given a little more nuance than a straight-on stalker, and it helps that he and Napoleon never get into a pissing match over Gaby’s person, only over her new clothes. But overall the film has to walk a fine line (and the jury is still out on how successful it is, I’d say) between playing Ilya’s laser-like attention to Gaby for its humor, and calling it out for the unsettling, threatening behavior it is.
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·         Honestly, it wasn’t until I engaged the Closed Captioning that I understood Napoleon was calling Ilya the ‘Red Peril’. So, that was nearly three viewings in.
·         I give the screen credits A+, on both ends. Not to mention the end credits are actually INTERESTING with lots to see and learn! (Certainly we learn more about HG in them than we do at any time during the film)
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Things I would have liked:
·         More of fish-out-of-the-Iron-Curtain Gaby moments
·         A better dichotomy shown of East vs. West Berlin/Germany. There’s nothing easy either visually or otherwise to distinguish the two.
·         HC being given a more specific American accent (from an actual locality). This, for an American viewer, works better than the flat, unlocated American accent many a British actor will bust out. *Mind you, HC does a generally good job, but he fails utterly on both “Immediate” which he pronounces at least twice as “immeedeejt” [rather than imm-E-deeot] and “Nazi” as “NAHT-zee” [rather than “NOT-zee”]. And let’s not get started on that late in the film use of ‘earnt’, a word that—well, it’s just not in the American English twentieth century lexicon.
·         C’mon. You gotta tease the Hugh Grant more.
·         Solo is a blank before the war. I’ve read thoughts on the film calling out Gaby as the blank character, but they’re wrong. Solo is the blank. He’s the ‘made’ man, his identity seemingly assembled during the war and after. For example, he doesn’t go into the war a thief, nor (it would seem) a particularly educated or urbane individual. Now THAT’s a juicy backstory I’d love to learn about, perhaps in film #2--or #3? What creates a Napoleon Solo? What would he be doing if he weren’t on the government’s leash/incarcerated? Is anyone left caring about him back wherever he calls home? I mean, who doesn’t love a gender-flipped 60s-era Holly Golightly backstory? [And yes, I would love there to be an ex-wife or even a current wife mixed up in his origins as well—Guy Ritchie, call me!]
Notes I have that I’m not sure if they still make sense to me:
·         Only mom calls me Napoleon (do he say it ‘mum’?) Is he a secret Canadian?
·         Solo’s torture, 1st view recall Napoleon’s childhood? *I think this means that after watching the first time I somehow erroneously believed that during the torture Napoleon’s childhood was a topic gone over. This was wrong. HOWEVER, this would have made far more story-sense than the backstory we’re given on an easily disposeable villain.
·         “Even the average Russian agent. You’re special.” ?
·         Uncle is Baddie (*so glad I made this note to myself)
·         Ilya’s dad IS an embarrassment. I’m not sure what genius commentary I had in my mind, here. Perhaps that Ilya himself is embarrassed of him? Not just Ilya’s handler’s? [Also, aside: Napoleon totally slut-shames Ilya’s mom, which is the doublest of double standards from ‘I got myself the biggest and most ornate suite b/c I-wanted-plenty-of-space-for-my-random-seductions’ and I really wish Ilya had thrown that back in his face] *yes, of course I know that Ilya and Napoleon would not likely equate a wife/mother’s sexual exploits with that of Solo’s, but let’s be honest, this film tweaks the nose of (I won’t say reverses, it doesn’t go that far) plenty of tropes and gender expectations, and this certainly seems like a missed opportunity to call Solo on the carpet (which I hope film #2 does far more)
Things I wrote down so long ago I don’t recall what they mean:
·         CC-save
In conclusion:
What does film #2 look like? What title does it get? Will the Peter/Neil White Collar dynamic continue to grow? *note that I have no confidence a second film will ever come to pass...
In the end, all I know is, “It didn't help when American Tom Cruise, who was slated to play U.S. spy Napoleon Solo, dropped out, prompting the casting of Cavill (who had previously read for the Russian role).“ I would not have watched that film.
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rawiswhore · 3 years
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Various WWF Wrestlers x Fem Reader- "Got It? Flaunt It!"
The World Wrestling Federation's Attitude era: a time when most of the matches were violent and bloody, the gimmicks were vastly more adult oriented than in the past, and most of the women's roster were treated and turned into sex objects for male consumption.
Even if a woman was a wrestler who had wrestled for several years before joining the WWF, like Ivory, Jacqueline and Torrie (not Wilson), she was reduced into a sex object and fap material.
Speaking of sexually objectifying women, Jerry Lawler helped provide the commentary during the Attitude era and he's infamous for his sexual objectification of women.
During the Attitude era, he helped make his "Puppies!" catchphrase popular despite that he didn't invent that term.
And when he said "puppies", he wasn't referring to baby dogs.
The Attitude era probably had the trashiest, most shallow people in the audience ever, getting out of their seats and cheering loudly for beautiful but talentless women like Sable and Debra simply because of their beauty and sex appeal and nothing else and especially loving Jerry Lawler's "puppies!" catchphrase, sometimes even chanting "we want puppies!" in the crowd.
Y'know what Lisa Simpson said, you'll never go broke appealing to the lowest common denominator of society.
Near the end of 1999, arguably at the end of the 20th Century, during a "Monday Night Raw" episode, you strolled and strutted through a hallway wearing a black crop top with your cleavage hiked up.
Your tits were pushed up like Britney Spears' chest in that photo of her in her childhood bedroom from that infamous Rolling Stone photoshoot, your breasts were pushed up like Carmen Electra's chest in that scene from "Scary Movie" where her clothes are torn off of her and she's running in a bra and thong in the grass.
Your breasts were showing a lot of skin and flesh, but not enough for your nipples and areolas to be seen.
The camera zoomed in on your chest, only to slowly zoom out and reveal it's you.
The males (both grown men and underage boys) in the audience immediately got out of their seats and cheered when they saw some cleavage, a few of them even wolf whistling at you, Jerry Lawler sitting at the commentary table's eyes almost bugged out of their sockets whilst he shrieked "Puppies!!!" over excitedly.
While you strolled down this hallway flaunting your cleavage, Val Venis was leaning his back on the wall, his long hair hanging down and not tied back in a ponytail whilst he was dressed in his signature towel wrapped around his waist, only to see your chest sticking out.
His eyes grew wide and his grinned from ear to ear seeing your tits, and he walked up to you with his shit eating grin plastered on his face, his eyes staring down at your chest.
He wasn't the only one thirsting over your chest, Christian, yes, that same Christian from the Brood who would form a duo with Edge by the end of the year and blow up in popularity next year, was standing by a wall and he could see your ample bosom sticking out.
Christian had his long blond locks hanging down, not tied back in a ponytail, and he was dressed in a sleeveless shirt with tights.
He walked up to you and looked at your chest, whereas you stopped walking when Val had approached you, letting him take a good look at your tits.
Your eyes were looking into his eyes while your lips were grinning, your body was slowly and slightly swaying from side to side.
Val, meanwhile, was staring and gushing over your breasts with his smooth yet gravelly, iconic voice, and Christian, too, was getting a good look at your chest.
Christian's eyes were glued to your tits and his mouth smiled, and you turned yourself around so Christian can look at your tits, your mouth still grinning while Christian looked at your chest.
Your arms and hands were behind your back, coyly swaying your body left to right like a little girl, even your facial expression was like that of a stereotypical naughty kid.
"Are...are they real?" Christian asked.
You nodded your head.
Christian, too, was gushing over your breasts, and Val tried to invite you to his hotel room, though so was Christian.
Christian got a little bit angry and nearly almost scuffled with Val, but you interrupted them and lifted your arms, resting your arms across the back of their shoulders, your fingers playing with strands of their hair.
You purred to them that they both can come (in more ways than one) to your locker room.
As you said they can both come to your locker room, your eyes were looking back and forth at them while your lips grinned from ear to ear.
They liked that idea, both of them nodding their heads and grinning.
"They're some lucky men!" Jerry Lawler exclaimed on commentary.
"So...what time can we meet up?" you asked them.
"After the show?" Val suggested.
"Yeah!" Christian chirped, nodding his head and smiling.
"Sounds good to me" you purred, still grinning and smiling.
You pulled your arms off of their shoulders and walked down the hallway some more, and Jeff Hardy and his brother Matt had approached you, their eyes staring at your chest.
A few teenage girls in the audience got out of their seats and shrieked when they saw the Hardy Boyz, who had gotten a makeover and were up and coming wrestling stars.
"I know it's not polite to stare" Jeff Hardy said "But damn..."
They both were smiling while looking at your chest, and you stopped walking so they can stare at your tits.
You were staring more at Jeff and smiling at him, he's the hot Hardy Boy in your opinion.
Jeff raised his hands towards his ribcage while his fingers motioned like he wanted to squeeze your breasts.
Just as you were showing off your chest at the Hardy Boyz, you rotated your body towards the left only to find the New Age Outlaws were behind you; Billy Gunn and Road Dogg.
The audience got out of their seats and cheered when they saw that they were right next to you.
You looked a little surprised when they were right next to you, but whatever.
Billy and Road Dogg were grinning whilst their eyes were staring at your chest.
Billy's hair was hanging down, not tied back in a ponytail or having little braids.
"I'd love to do those puppies D-O-double G style" Road Dogg stated whilst his eyes were staring at your breasts, and what he said got the males in the audience out of their seats cheering for him.
"I might be an Ass Man" Billy said, grinning from ear to ear "But even I can't resist some nice puppies"
"Me too!" Jerry Lawler exclaimed on commentary, not being shown on screen.
Your eyes were staring into Billy's whilst you smiled at him.
"Y'know I like you, Billy" you said, leaning your body against his and your voice trying to sound sexy. "But as for you, ehhhh..."
Your head turned and looked at Road Dogg when you were unsure of what to think of him, your face looking disgusted when you said "ehhhh...", much to Road Dogg's dismay.
"What?!" Road Dogg asked, his face looking puzzled and slightly upset.
You then walked away from them both and continued strutting through the hallway, your tits bouncing up and down while you strolled through the hallway.
Al Snow approached you from your right side, where even he couldn't help but get a glimpse at your tits.
The audience got out of their seats and cheered for him once they saw him.
His eyes were glued at your cleavage and he grinned from ear to ear looking at your chest.
Like the Bella Twins said, he can look, but he can't touch.
He followed you and tried keeping up with you, staring at your bouncing chest.
You continued walking down that hallway, your heels clicking on the slick, hard floor.
From the left, Shawn Michaels had walked up to you, and you were really happy seeing him come up to you.
Women and even a few teenage girls got out of their seats and cheered when they saw Shawn appear on screen.
Shawn's eyes were staring at your cleavage, he grinned and smiled while looking at your breasts.
You stopped walking to have Shawn observe your breasts, you smiled whilst he thirsted over your tits.
You lifted one of your hands and your fingers poked through his hair, your fingers playing and stroking his hair.
You slightly leaned your body to Shawn's torso and pressed your tits onto his chest, your voice sounding sexy and seductive.
You were inviting him if he wants to come, in more ways than one, to your locker room when the show's over.
Shawn couldn't help but stare at your breasts, but you were reminding him to look up at your face.
Of course Shawn wants to come with you, in more ways than one!
It seems like when you walk down the hallway, every man runs up to you and wants to look at your chest.
After spending some time with Shawn, you walked down the hallway some more, and Stevie Richards, yeah, that Stevie Richards from ECW and (for a little while) WCW rushed up to you and looked at your chest.
You don't mind Stevie looking at your tits, he is a cutie pie (though you don't mind if Al Snow stares at your chest as well, even if he didn't look at that good with that handlebar moustache).
Stevie was trying to keep up walking behind you, he followed you from behind while his eyes were glued to your chest and his mouth smiling.
Davey Boy Smith was leaning his back against the wall as you strolled past him, and even he had to walk up to you and stare at your chest.
You stopped walking once Davey approached you, letting him take a peek at your cleavage.
Stevie stopped walking behind you when you stopped walking, where you let these two men get a glimpse of your chest.
"Y'know, I respect you as a woman" Davey stated "But..."
He's pretty much at a loss for words at your chest.
Davey Boy Smith nearly could mention how his nickname is the British Bulldog and how he wants to do your puppies doggystyle, but Road Dogg already mentioned that.
Davey's eyes were gazing at your ample cleavage, he was smiling looking at your chest, whereas you were swaying your body back and forth whilst smiling at him.
You also turned your body towards Stevie Richards for him to have a peek at your chest, your lips grinning from ear to ear at him.
Once you felt like you had enough of Davey and Stevie looking at you, you turned your body to a swerve and walked past Kane who was leaning his back on the wall.
As you walked past Kane, even Kane's head turned to look at you as you strolled past him, though you couldn't see if he was smiling at your chest or not.
Test (yeah, the same Test that married Stephanie McMahon and had a relationship with Stacy Keibler) would stare at your tits, though he's about to get married to Stephanie McMahon.
Though, damn, there's a wrestling storyline: Test is secretly cheating on Stephanie McMahon with you!
Your milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.
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