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#not only is she fancy but i also fancy her(;
sm-baby · 1 day
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WHAT'S NOT YOURS
Freakshow AU by: @hootbon
Promo Art ||The Chosen one (Part 1) || Off-Limits (Part3)
Word count: 6025
HELLO FREAKSHOWERS. ARE YOU READY TO KEEL OVER AND DIE??? CHLSKHCA Whats Not Yours takes place AFTER The Chosen One, but BEFORE Off-Limits! BUT they're not necessarily connected uwu they're just built off the knowledge of The Chosen one, so you know the context.
REMINDER: SHOWTIME IS NOT CANON IN FREAKSHOW AU. I'M JUST A BIG NERD- OK BYE-
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Pomni woke up in a cold sweat.
Her breath hitched like her head had been forced 6 hours underwater. And when she came to, she gasped, gagged, sweating, and panicked. Her wooden fingers were cold to the touch. 
She thought it was all over, but her nightmares followed her into the mansion.  
All that… trauma… that man put her through, her friends… but it wasn't over. She didn't think she could ever escape his wretched grasp until her last death.
And in darkness, light only shining from the eclipse through the curtains, Pomni sat up, hands in her eyes, rubbing away invisible tears from her dry face. Although she wasn't crying, she felt like she was a child just wanting her stuffed toys to protect her. 
Upon sensing her stress levels, her new owner, blue in coat, teleported into her bedroom. “ Hello? Dear?” he spoke with his unnaturally soft voice. “ Is everything alright? I sensed your nerves heightened and I got so worried!” The deck of cards sat at her bed, hands politely to his lap, but ready to hold her if she so pleased.
The woman gasped a crying breath. “ N-No…”
“ You had that dream again?” 
Pomni nodded.
“ Was it about…him?”
She squeaked and whimpered at the mention, practically breaking down from the memory. Oh god. She thought it was all over, she thought it was done- but it was never done! it was never ever done—
“ Oh! You're okay…!” The blue ringmaster scooted over to bring her into his arms. His hands were so loving, warm, and just felt like home. His voice was similar to a man hushing a whimpering puppy.
And Pomni accepted the embrace… She trusted no one else but him in that god-forsaken place. Since she left the circus and signed up to be his little pet, everything has gone uphill since.
He was the only one to ever truly love her unconditionally. Feed her good food, dress her well … hell, he even provides her fancy new clothes and a warm comfortable room. And she loved him back. He was exactly all she needed. 
While in his arms, Pomni's breath shook but calmed down. She then leaned her head on his shoulder, not letting go. She never wanted to let go. She loved him as much as a performer could love her owner.
“ As long as you are under my ownership, you're also under my protection.” He pulled away, and put a clump of hair behind her ear. “ And I promise you, my little dear, you will never have to speak to that man again.”
Her breath hitched and she sobbed softly back into his arms, like if she were to let go she would fall to her death. She can't imagine living a life without him anymore. If she went back into the circus she would just try to kill herself over and over. 
But then, she was safe… now that he was there… he cared for her and tended to her every need like no other. He truly was the best.
“ I love you, dear..” Able whispered.
“ I love you t—”
Caine couldn't finish that thought.
For the past few hours, Caine had been standing there, in the middle of the circus tent, completely stationary. A few hours earlier he had yelled at the ballerina and saw her walk away a lot more hurt than usual.
And for the past few hours, Instead of using his infinite intelligence to maybe, be productive, or be functional, he instead wasted his processors to stupidly think of all the timelines and possibilities that came with the consequences of upsetting his little doll.
Why did she walk away like that. Hands on each opposite shoulder. Like she was holding herself. It wasn't even the fact that she looked weak—no, he'd seen her at her worst.
The way she walked away, her whole demeanor and her silence didn't feel like fear, it felt like she was simply… numb.
He exhaled and twitched.
Complete stationary and staring into nothing is what the AIs looked like when in deep thought. He searched through all the different timelines, and so many of them returned to… him. The ace he needed not name.
The images of him caring for her, her going to him for safety, feeding her, touching her, keeping her away from him-- or maybe even doing the things that he does! Dancing with her, clothing her, Instructing her next dances -- Caine’s eye twitched. He could hardly stand the idea of his little brother talking badly about him.
These were the kinds of intrusive thoughts that he was not used to. And for the moment, he didn't care how close they were to reality. his judgment was clouded. Now, all he was thinking about was a way to prevent it…
Let's see his options...
Kill him? No, he already tried that.
Kill her? No, she'll just come back.
Prevent her from seeing him? He's been doing that every time he sees them around each other!
His hands fidgeted.
Pomni was a human. What do you humans usually do after an argument?
Let's see here…
Pomni was fast asleep in bed, snoring her cares away. It was another hard day at the circus nothing new… Caine said something that day that especially hurt her, and… it was a reminder not to take the guy’s words personally. 
He was a computer built with nothing but random data. Violent data for sure, but there was nothing but objectives in AI-- no other rhyme or reason a human should dig into. 
For now, she cared for nothing but sleep…if she's lucky, she’ll think less about it in the morning. Sleep did help keep her sanity levels up… but if she were to be honest, a lot of the time she goes to bed in the hopes of never waking up.
Her closed eyes twitched though. To her horror, she was waking up. For what reason? She opened her eyes and adjusted to the darkness of her room. in front of her was nothing but the— 
“ AAAA WHAT THE FU-” Pomni fell off her bed.
Caine was sat, squatting at the foot of her bed, quiet and staring.
The doll pulled her head up from the floor and turned back to him. How long has he been there?? He hasn't said a word the entire time-- and- and- how did he get in without alerting her??? 
“ ... Are you slumbering?”
“ God I hope so!” Pomni held her head and onto the bed… “it's not .. show time is it?”
“ No.”
“ Oh. Good.”
Pomni, with a drowsy demeanor, took one of the stepping stools and made her way back to bed. if it wasn't time to entertain the audience then it was leisure time. If it was leisure time, it was time to let herself be miserable.
Though admittedly the silence that night was just a bit more awkward than usual— as it is when people just come back trying to be normal after a big argument. Pomni could barely look him in the eye despite his efforts.
“ So what uh… what brings—”
“I've come to make amends.”
The idea made her cringe. Caine? Making amends? Maybe she was dreaming. But the idea did scare her a little. What would a fucked up AI like him perceive as “ making amends”? She's sure he could make something as mundane as washing dishes a traumatizing experience. 
Pomni’s shoulders tensed and she did back away from him a little, holding her knees, sitting on her pillows.  “ Listen, Caine, Im tired… I guess j-just do whatever you need to do and get this all over with...” 
“ Approximately 5 hours 40 minutes and 16 seconds ago, I yelled at you because you have gotten very insistent in your ideals. I sense that you didn't take kindly to that action. And as one of my best performers I've taken it upon myself to make amends.”
Pomni just nodded along with what he had to say. And the more he spoke, the more tense she got, and the more she sunk into herself. She was waiting for it. The catch. She was practically holding her breath.
“ — So Pomni. Living doll, my star, and my dear, the Circus' greatest attraction…”
Pomni closed her eyes, bracing herself.
“ I ap…” Caine blue-screened and stopped in his speak, as if something physically stopped him from talking. He came back to, and cleared his throat. “ I apol…” before blue screening again.
Pomni perked up. She opened her eyes and looked over at him.
Caine was in hell. A far worse hell than any of the performers could ever experience.
It took him too much of his systems to say half the two-word sentence. Multiple attempts were made, some sounded like he was lagging, and some he stopped in his tracks to glitch out.
…No fucking way.
Pomni stared on with an almost disgusted look on her face. Was it taking THIS much out of him just to say sorry?? God, he was pretentious. Sometimes she questions if he truly was just code or a selfish jerk.
He looked down, hand gestured like he was holding the bridge of his nose. This was embarrassing at this point. He should have practiced. Maybe wording it differently would be easier? “I regret-- no. Not that one.” Dear GOD how do humans do this?
Admittedly it was just a little entertaining to see him struggle in a way. It was prolonging the apology for her. Also nice to see the bastard not only eating his own words but also choking on it as well.
“I apologize.” Caine muttered quickly.
“... Didn't quite catch that, Caine.”
“ You did.”
“ Fair enough.” She best not push her luck. She might be the only person the ringmaster has ever said sorry to, even when it was half-assed. Admittedly, it cheered her up, just not in the way that he intended.
Caine continued, still talking strangely. “ Will. you. ever… for. give. me.”
Pomni weighed her chances of survival for her next reply. She puffed out all the air from her chest “Well… why would I?”
“ I planned for that.” Caine flew from her bed and back in the air, making little magic tricks with his next words. “ What would you like? Food? A nice warm bath? A fire show? Money? A bouquet? fruit basket? A song and dance? Money?” 
Pomni blinked from his little show and rubbed her face. “ I-I think I just wanna go to bed, Caine…”
“ Not Applicable.”
“Oh.” He wasn’t gonna let this go huh? “ U-uh…” her tired, baggy, eyes looked down. Not that she complained, but the mannequins didn’t prepare her for bed that night. She was a lot dirtier when she went to bed and it was a little uncomfortable. “ I-I guess a nice bath would work…
“ Done.” Caine raised his hand to snap and-
“ Not with bubble though! Dear god, not with bubble-- uh.. Maybe just…me. Just- just leave me with a bathtub with towels or something?”
“Hmm…” The doll’s demands were getting quite pretentious. She was lucky he was feeling generous that day. “Done.” Caine carelessly put his hand on Pomni’s head--almost smacking her in the process-- which deserved a little flinch from Pomni. 
But the basic slap wasn’t for nothing, as one snap later-- Caine and Pomni would be transported to a lavatory. This time though, the tub was a little more luxurious than what she deserved. Instead of the old wooden tub that he just filled with water, this one was an actual bathroom. Ceramic with curtains and all.
“ Hmm…” Caine stared at it for a moment… Something’s missing… “ Ah!” He snapped, and candles and rose petals decorated the area.
“ Wh”
“ Perfect, I know, I’ve outdone myself.” He reached out and pinched Pomni’s cheek, later speaking in condescending speech “ Now you enjoy your time here because I promise you, Doll~ I do not want to put this much effort for anyone here again.”
“ Uh-”
“ Adieu!” and just like that, Caine was gone.
Pomni stared over at the fancy new setting, built like the old rich man’s bathroom. Although it was minimal, she didn’t know how to feel about the amount of effort put into it. She was fully ready to just drown herself in the other bathtub. On one hand, it was a nice relaxing sort of setting. On the other hand, no bone in her body was capable of relaxation anymore.
And so Pomni just stared with blinking, small eyes… The flowers, the candles. Maybe in the real world, this would have worked on her. But since she was here, she might as well try.
What Pomni didn’t know was that the lavatory was especially luxurious because it was part of the Brothers’ home. Caine simply deleted the door to get out. But when he teleported, he was only a wall away.
He fixed his coat and trailed his eyes on his good old wacky wat-... pocket watch. Ofcourse. His ol reliable golden pocket watch. Confirming the time, He walked and made his way around the Manor.
The living room played the sound of a classical violin. Despite rarely visiting anymore, his systems can recognize that mediocre tune from anywhere.
Click!
Shut…
“ Oh! Brother!” There stands Able much more chipper than usual after seeing his older brother. “ I had not sensed you in the area!”
Of course, he wouldn't.
“ Why-- it's been quite a while since you visited unprompted! Come, let us play a tune together, I'm sure you—”
“ No!” He replied with a tune in his voice, almost condescending in nature. “I've simply come to complete a simple task and I'll be out of your hair.” Caine sat on the couch putting his cane to the side, and for a moment, putting his feet up on the other knee. He looked like a man who just come from an exhausting day at work.
Able huffed internally at the rejection, but carried on anyway. Of course. The one time his brother visits, it's for work. Able wouldn't be one to talk as a fellow workaholic, but at least he acknowledges his brother, or takes his time to check up on him, or-- invites him to spend time together in special realms or…
He turned his nose, scoffing. Hmph! He didn't want to play with him anyway!
Caine somewhat knew what he was doing. Despite being AI, siblings merely barging into the other’s room to annoy each other wasn't lost on the two. Caine would know as his brother often visits the circus unannounced. It was quite the experience for him to get a taste of his own medicine huh?
Caine stifled a laugh… the tension in the room was immature and childish.
“ So… How is the business? Have the freaks been putting you in any sort of trouble?”
“ Of course not, why would you assume such a thing?” Caine said. “ The Circus has been doing perfectly well, even without you, brother.”
“ Excuse me?”
“ Have you been making deals with the performers? Contracts…promises of a safe haven maybe?”
Able frowned and pouted like an angry little boy, but then later put on a softly fake tone of voice. “ Why, Of course I have! I mean, look at the conditions they have to live with! I'm sure our creators would not approve of such—”
“ Who are you trying to fool?” Caine interrupted and Able stopped in his speech. Caine continued, “We're no different from our empathy levels. You don't care.”
This blatant call-out was met with nothing but silence. Able with all his big talk wasn't prepared to answer that sort of question. He simply turned away and put down his violin. He was a good AI. He was a good AI. 
Caine can't say that the silence was a satisfying answer. He knows his brother was a cowardly character. His silence was just frustrating at this point. But Able sensed that there was no use fighting. He doesn't know why he constantly wants that man’s approval. 
His voice dropped to a complete low, losing all sense of friendliness or masking. “... If this is about the doll, I didn't.” Able said, a spiteful tone to his voice. “ Before I make my deals, I at least need to build rapport with the performer. And frankly, brother, your little dog doesn't like me.”
“ …pff..” This managed a snicker out of Caine that he covered with a hand.
“ Wh-!? What is that!?”
“ “The dog doesn't like you”? ”
“ Yes!? And?!?”
Caine escalated into more of a laugh! Able was red in the face out of anger and embarrassment! Good GRIEF! The only time he makes his brother laugh and it's out of his own failures!
“ You're unbelievable!”
“ And what did the dog say to make you feel so insignificant? Did it try to bite you? Did it not accept your treats?” Caine has never been so condescending, playing with a baby voice and speaking to his brother as if he were a quivering child. “ Goodness, you're pathetic!”
“ Excuse you!?!” and Able’s only fault was that he played into it. He has never before felt the older brother power dynamic so strongly. He laughed, nervous, but almost like a hyena with how he used it as a defense mechanism. “ Ha! You— You're one to talk!”
“ I'm one to talk?”
“ Oh! ho ho! Don't get me started! Even since I met your little brat you've never been the same! It's all about ‘look at her new dress’ or ‘look at how much better she is’ over and over! Every single conversation I've had with you is nothing but work or that stupid little doll!”
Caine blinked, unamused, and looked to the side, reaching into his head like he was picking off food from his teeth. “ I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about.”
“ You--!! UGH!” he stomped his feet and started to make his way out the door. “ I will be away where you cannot track me! And frankly, brother, if you need me, you're not getting my help!”
“ And I don't need it~,” Caine said playfully and waved without even turning to him.
And with one last groan, Able teleported off.
As soon as Able was out of earshot, Caine erupted into laughter! That was the most entertaining thing he has ever pulled off. That might be the only good thing his brother has ever done to amuse him. Not only was he going to store that data and keep it for the foreseeable future, but it also kept his brother out of his tail.
Hmm… sure, he will have to tend to technical difficulties himself, but he was okay with that. He'll have Bubble chew through the wiring or something, he's sure it's not far from what Able’s been doing.
He laughed again. Oh Caine, you're too much, you handsome devil you~
Caine left his last chuckles off, completely melting into the sofa, arms draped onto the back of the couch. “ “The dog doesn't like him,” he says! Pahaha! Haa..”
Steam covered the bathroom mirrors. 
Rose petals passing, candle lights flickering, and The warmth of the water almost forced her to relax, but there was no amount of anything that could ever get her back to that mindset again. Instead, it just made her forget about her surroundings-- which, she supposed, was good enough.
Awkwardly sitting at the tub, Pomni was slouched, staring down at the water, her eyes following some flower petals that so happened to pass by. Her hair was done. Her body was washed. The rose petals that graced her wooden form decorated her romantic moment of self-care. Pomni sighed, long and tired. She could stay there forever. This is the closest semblance of peace she has ever really had.
Upon evenly spreading her limbs, Like a plank of wood, Pomni easily floated at the top. She closed her eyes and let the water take her. The warmth, not far from a loving bed waiting after a long day, here to ease headaches, here to help forget about everything else… Although she struggled, she let her body release all its tension at that moment, and just be deaf towards the world around her.
Pomni breathed in…
And out..
And in…
And out…
But just as she was about to reach the closest thing she had to relaxation, Pomni felt something off in the environment. Did the candles get warmer? Pomni squeezed her eyes closed in discomfort, before opening them up again to-
“ OH SHI—” in her panic, Pomni submerged into the water.
For the past few minutes, Caine had been floating horizontally above her. Silent, face inches away from hers, staring and watching just as he usually does when the performers were asleep.
Pomni screamed and fell into the bottom, before scrambling to the corner of the tub, where she then covered herself with a curtain.
“ Ah, good! You're alive.”
“ CAINE!!?!? NAKED???!?!?”
Caine blinked, unamused. Sure, he was in a good enough mood to amuse her. “ My dear, what exactly are you covering up?”
“ U-Uh…” Pomni didn't know how to answer. She knew that she and the others didn't exactly have any parts to cover up. Did it make it feel less embarrassing? Fuck no. “ I-its uh…”
he spoke more playfully as if speaking in the voice of a PSA narrator!  “ Exactly! Wood! The same wood as your fingers or the one on your cheek! The amazing Digital Freakshow© is a show for all ages where their performers have the luxury of no genitalia!” his voice went back down. “ —So what you're doing is utterly useless. And if it makes you feel better: I don't exactly care.”
This is weird-- this is weird! “ Just- just- just! Turn around?!?”
Caine rolled his eyes. He really took all that time to explain something to her, and it seemed she wasn’t even listening. Sighing, he turned around and just rested his arms on the outside part of the tub “ Please, you’ve suffered through worse, dear.”
“ I-It’s not suffering, It's embarrassing! I like to think I still have my dignity!” Although he was turned around, Pomni still kept at her corner “ Is my time done or? I-I mean… I’m not exactly ready to go out yet...”
“ Oh take all the time you need.” “Then Wh… Why- why are you here? “
“ I suppose you can say I’m a little unoccupied at the moment. On the added, I’m in a sort of good and affectionate mood.”
That sent a shiver down her spine. Good lord… oh no he was bored. She does not need to know what a fucked up AI would consider affection. She just smiled, gritting her teeth, and laughed nervously… “Ah ha ha… that's great, I’m… happy for youuu..” she continued her laughter, getting more and more miserable as she went back down in the tub, and submerged the lower half of her face in the water.
“ You did me well, dear.”
“ Wh-what- what did I do… take a bath?”
“ Precisely!”
Wow. She didn't think she was that dirty. She looked up and flinched, seeing Caine had been turned to her again— she splashed at him instinctually! “ Caine, what did I just say!?”
“ Oh no, I still cannot see you. I deleted my eyes for the time being.” Caine opened his mouth and revealed that he, in fact, did take off his eyes.
This sent a shiver down Pomni’s spine. He was creepier that way somehow.
“ As I said, you’ve pleased me today! I say this calls for a reward! Nothing less for my favorite little performer over here!” He poked her right in the cheek and retracted before she could react. “ Your word, dear!”
“ Uh… well…I can't really say no to salmon… even if it is uh… it's little weird digital version of itsel—”
Before Pomni could finish, Caine snapped his fingers and an eating board appeared on the tub, with, indeed, digital-looking salmon on a tray.
God, she was getting pampered pampered.
Eating awkwardly, Pomni sometimes looked at the side to see Caine, hands over the tub, swaying his head back and forth. Jesus, he might have been kicking his feet for all she knew. She wasn't used to him in this chipper of a mood.
“ May I see now?”
“ Uhhh… Why…?”
“ You came out beautifully, it's pleasing to the eyes. Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Pomni shivered at this little…playful demeanor Caine had on. She doesn't know the catch and she doesn't know if she wants to know.“ Yeah, Caine, you have. Uh…” She thought about it for a second before turning back to him. “ Y-Yeah, I guess… I mean I don't exactly remember what it's like having a human body, but lacking the parts does make it different uh--... less exposed, in a way… ” 
Snap!
“ Wonderful! Hello again, dear!”
Pomni frowned in disgust! Oh, his beady little eyes are back! Looking up at her like a fucked up little puppy! She laughed nervously. “ Haha… Hi…” She turned away from him, stiff, back to eating her little meal. Sanity levels were recovering. She was back to being a responsive little character.
Even so, at the corner of her eye, the way he looked at her, looked like he was smiling with his eyes. She sensed-- pride? Affectionate, as he said, but… she can't help but feel like a prey the way he looks at her.  If Caine wasn't kicking his feet earlier, they certainly were now.
“ Haha…just to clarify, what did I do …again?”
Caine stared on, his eyes becoming more and more affectionate. “ If you want the true answer, let's just say that I have visited my brother today and he has… nothing but good things to say about you! And so I thought my magnificent hard-working doll deserved a little reward. Is that so wrong?”
“ Oh him…” Pomni grits her teeth at the mention of Able. “ You… uh ... what did he say?”
Oh, what an excuse to drop every compliment he had for her… “ That you were gorgeous… pleasing design, talented... polite, beautiful eyes—”
“ AH- ahh! No more! Oh god no more.” Pomni shivered from the discomfort so much so that she physically put her hands in front of him to hush! “ Haha! No thank you-’
Caine couldn't even be mad at the interruption! In fact, he erupted into laughter the same way he did earlier! Oh, twice in a day?? These were such genuine reactions from each person! Caine had such genuine yet dark pompous laughter! “Oh?”
“ Yeah! he--” Pomni groaned. “He doesn't even scare me! He's just-- a big two-faced jerk!”
Caine took the hand Pomni used to interrupt him and kissed it by the knuckles. He has never felt so assured. This proved his intrusive thoughts earlier that day to be completely false. The idea of them building rapport, or forming a bond of any sort was completely debunked. After all, how could they form that sort of relationship when they could hardly stand each other's name mentioned in conversation?
Pomni forced a smile at that small but direct form of affection. He seemed to really like it when she talked smack about his brother. She should keep that in mind. “Yeah.. so uh..”
He kissed her knuckle once again… perhaps he liked it just a little too much. Truth was, Caine had never felt so secure in thinking that something was truly his. For once, anyhow. It was so small, but it was his.
Pomni later pulled her hand away, laughing nervously. He was gentle and she didn't trust it. “ You uh…weren't lying when you said you were feeling affectionate…”
“ No one will ever believe you.”
“ Ah.”
After a while, Pomni prepared to be out the bath, wrapping a towel around her hair and around her figure.“ Okay, I think that's all. I-I think Im ready to go now if you don't m-woAHH-!” And in quick succession, Caine carried her bridal style, teleported her out of the bathroom, and back to her bedroom.
For the next hour or so, Pomni sat in at her vanity, Caine grooming her hair from behind. At that moment, he adored dressing her up. His own personal doll, his favorite little toy. Gently he brushed her hair, sneaking in little affections here and there: holding her shoulder, holding her face… he knew exactly where all this sudden affection came from and he so shamelessly indulged in it. After all, who was there to judge him? The little freak he was brushing? The wet little dog? Please.
At that moment, he was no different from a child dressing up his favorite toy. He snapped, picking from an assortment of clothes that would make her look beautiful while she slumbered. Snap! Snap! snap! And Pomni just let it all happen. After all what else could she do?
After a while, Caine stood her up and basked in his good work, looking her up and down and clapping in satisfaction. “ Beautiful. Now bow,” Pomni did as instructed, bowing as if she had just finished a performance. “Very good.”
Once again, Caine carried her in his arms and made his way to the bed, where he so gently placed her. He was playing with dolls. He was so playing with dolls. Pomni just complied as she always did and sat politely, keeping a calm expression, trying to be as neutral for him as possible, and letting him live out his little fantasy.
Before laying her to bed, Caine just took a few more minutes to stare at her, and nothing else. Just admire his best performer. This put Pomni in unease, not just because of his freaky design, but also because she can’t help but feel like she’s missing something somehow. She looked down when she felt him touching her hand, in particular, rubbing his thumbs at the back of it.
Hoping she read his signs correctly, she lifted her hand towards his mouthy face, almost permitting him such desires.
Caine quickly accepted her suggestion and started pressing his teeth on her knuckles in a way to kiss her. It started with one, and another, and another, and another. And the next thing he knew, he stopped counting and started moving his head up to her upper arm.
Pomni allowed this no matter how out of nowhere it was. It was weird, but she did not question it. She felt him start to nibble at her though in which she-- in a panic-- started to retract.
Caine looked up at the sudden rejection and the woman scrambled to find her words. “ U-Uh… Y-Your kisses are sweet, dear ringmaster, but a simple doll such as I am undeserving.” In times like these, Caine would be too deep into his fantasies to care about how real she was being. In his head, he was playing. They were both playing. And he loved it when she played off such a prestige woman, exactly how he liked it.
He whispered back sweet words of grandeur. “ Do you question the taste of a king? I think of no one else more deserving.”
Although she didn’t back away fully, she leaned away a few inches, praying it wasn’t noticeable. She bore a toothy, nervous smile. She was okay baring with his affections until he brought his teeth into it. She did not want to be dinner after all that preparation. She cleared her throat. “Ah…Pray tell, what did the king see in this little… doll?”
“ A flower is most beautiful when taken cared of.” He held her cheek and kissed the opposite. “Let it be known, my care for you was not without motives. Your beauty is a testament to my hard work. And your care is a testament to your belonging to me.”
Belonging to him, he said… He was… so incredibly fucked up, she couldn’t say anything about it. When he was on his way to bite her arm, in her panic, she diverted it and kissed his gums, which, to him, was the equivalent of kissing his cheek.
The ringmaster blinked in confusion and Pomni took his moment of processing to cringe at the feeling of his melted gums on her lips. She felt goosebumps with how gross that was but quickly turned her head back to fake a smile.
But Caine broke character for a moment.“ Did you just. Take initiative?” 
Shit.
That was so strange. As if he hadn’t known that was an option.
She cleared he throat, trying to distract him again. “Is it so wrong of me to return the ringmaster’s affections?” She batted her eyes, making her feel as small as possible. “ A woman cannot resist such a… ” Pomni looked him up and down “... dentures.” 
She panicked with that one.
He stared at her for longer, and the grip on her hand tightened, though, it seemed he did not notice. Although he was unsure if he enjoyed the act or not, he knew what it meant. And the day that he was okay with someone else receiving it is the same day hell freezes over. With a small scowl, He leaned his face inches close to her, as he has always done time and time again.“ Would you reserve such affection for your ringmaster, and just your ringmaster?”
“Of course.” She lied through her teeth.
Caine continued to speak but with a bit more grit in his voice. He leaned so close to her in bed, he had to support one hand on her back, as if dipping her in a dance. “ And will you, my dear, solemnly swear that you’ll live the rest of your existence devoted and serving me?”
The woman kept her calm demeanor. A small smile, but a fake one. She can’t say yes to that. But with her compromising position, she couldn’t say no either. “ Would you promise the same for me?”
Caine was quiet, and so was she. He furrowed his teeth a bit frustrated and let her go. It seems he couldn’t say yes to that either, and Pomni knew.
“... That wasn’t your line.” Caine sat up, and crossed his arms like a pouting little boy.
Pomni faked a surprised face. “ There was a script? Geez, oh man, my bad!” she later faked a yawn. “ Wow, would you look at that I’m also, uh, sleepy! So it seems I can’t finish the uh-.. This”
“ You, “ Caine pointed his cane at her the same way a gunman would point a rifle “ Are being difficult.”
Pomni, in response, just panicked and shrugged. “ Well, I-”
“ But I suppose you’re right, it is quite late.  I wouldn’t want you attending the shows tired… again.” Caine got off the bed and floated off. He snapped, and the blanket draped over Pomni, drowning her in the bed sheets. “ Sleep tight, dear! It’s another day tomorrow, etc. etc. I will be visiting you a little earlier tomorrow to fix you a new wardrobe.” 
“ Wh-?? Then what’s with the-???” she gestured towards her current clothes that he so meticulously chosen out. 
Caine laughed. “ Oh don’t be silly!  Those were for my eyes only! And-- the audience’s if they so pleased. But for now, it's mine.” Caine snapped his fingers and Pomni was back to her normal ballet dress, but more plain and comfortable, but equally pleasing to many eyes.
“ …ARE YOU KIDDING M-”
“ Good night!”
SHUT!
Caine left with a small smile on his face. Sometimes he finds joy in being a bit of a nuisance. He pulled out his hand watch once again and found that it alerted him about errors within the system. 
She scoffed and summoned an old-timey rotary dial. 
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
“ You’ve reached Able.AI’s communication line! If you are an audience member or a performer: requests and complaints will be held off due to family emergencies. If you're my foul, besotted, temperish, fool of a brother: don’t call this line again! Thank you!” 
… Despite how ridiculous that was, Caine couldn’t help but chuckle. Ohh that was the cherry on top of that perfect day. Nonetheless, Caine AI, you have technical difficulties to tend to. Was today worth all the extra work? Yes. Yes, it was.
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bigfatbimbo · 2 days
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saw u we're thinking about the vees again 😇 anyways heres some rambles
spitroasting vox w velvette- ur pegging him while she rides his face and yall can makeout in the middle (val may or may not be watching)
humiliating any of them in front of the others
not punishing them for once and maybe having a night of just gentle fucking? like your all taking care of eachother just like softer sex
THEY GIVE WONDERFUL AFTERCARE FIGHT ME
this one is pretty sfw but imagine going to like a fancy event/gala with the three of them and they're all fighting for your attention/over who ur plus one is
The Vees with a dom!reader headcanons [pt3]
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a/n — On my Vees shit again, because i’m fucking crazy. Also I swear i’m working on actual fics like I swear on my life they won’t be messy headcanons for ever.
summary — further continuation of the post where the reader was basically the Vees collective fuck, specifically with a dominant reader.
warning — smut, unorganized headcanons, dom reader, sub… everyone else, NOT PROOFREAD!! kind of long too
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Rose, You’ve literally never let me down when sending in requests. I love this and you. I’m going to actually try to make this one coherent and organized! So i’ll break everything you said down into categories.
Spitrosting w/Vox and Velvette
No because imagine this as a punishment for Val and Vox but a reward for Velvette. Like maybe she has been nicer than usual, well, in a general way (snarky comments aside). Say she was being thoughtful and made you a nice homemade shirt that suits your fashion sense perfectly. How sweet!
However, while the other two weren’t exactly worse than usual, they certainly weren’t better. Valentino was just as depraved and perverted as usual, and Vox was just as annoying with his facade dominance and quick temper.
Valentinos part of the punishment is obvious; he’s tied to the other side of the bed, both sets of hands bonded together, prohibiting him from moving and leaving him to watch. That is clearly torture for him.
But Vox is a little more confused about his punishment. He gets pegged, and gets to eat pussy. Why is that bad? Vox fully thinks he knows what’s happening, and he thinks he has it better than Val, too.
But he’s wrong. Because not only is he overwhelmed to the point of struggling to breathe, he’s also getting virtually none of you or Velvettes attention. Because that’s Velvettes reward; she gets all of the praise and full, undivided, attention.
In fact, you didn’t even gag Valentino, so you can hear his whiny complaints as clear as day. And even then, you ignore him and go back to passionately kissing Velvette.
Her hands are clinging to your shoulders as you two make out, and every now and then she lets a moan out into your mouth. Although your hips are roughly ramming into Vox, who’s crying like bitch if you can believe it, you’re more concerned with Velvettes perfect lips, and marking up her smooth neck.
And the part that really infuriates Vox and Val, is how kind and gentle your being, despite how much of an attitude Velvettes had this week! Seriously, it was only that stupid gift that warranted all of that praise? AND their terrible punishment! That wasn’t fair.
“So pretty baby, so good for me,” you’d mumble into her neck as you begin to suck on her delicate skin. Velvette is biting her lip to stop herself from making any unwarranted comments, and so instead she’s just shooting smug looks at Val inbetween whines and occasionally pushing her pussy further into Vox’s tongue.
And then you make your way back up to her lips, “Look to perfect, my sweet girl. So proud of you, so well behaved.” Boy, that fucked with Vox, whose tongue is getting increasingly tired, and who’s already crying from the rough sensation of you fucking into his ass. Let alone the emptiness of his attention deprived dick.
And even though the sound is muffled, you can still hear every sound he makes because that’s how fucking loud he is. He’s whining for a break, and sobbing uncontrollably. Valentino on the other hand, is yet to break down into tears, but is tiring from complaining. His bratty attitude is obviously faltering, being overcome by a longing to be taken care of, to have your attention again.
But you refuse to give in to either of your brats. At least, not before your angel, Velvette, has the chance to cum again for the countless time tonight.
Humiliation in front of the other Vees
With Vox, this would be very easy. He has an incredibly fragile ego and gets defensive and embarrassed fast. Like any small comment about his submissive behavior in bed would get him absolutely pissed. Because you know that he’d be made fun of relentlessly. He’d be yelling at the other Vees to do something and they’d be like “Or what? Are you gonna tell your [mommy/daddy] on us?” and his screen would heat up and turn a shade of pink, and his voice would glitch out when he yells “FUCK YOU!” at the top of his lungs.
With Velvette, I don’t think it would be hard, but definitely not as easy as Vox. It definitely would have to be more than just making a few offhanded comments, that’s for sure. Like maybe actually fucking her close to a public space, specifically where the other two Vees would be able to hear her if she was too loud. And of course she’d do okay for a while but she’d let a few loud moans slip. And Vox or Val would be snickering at her when you two got back like, “Did you have a good time? Sure sounded like it..”
With Valentino…. yeah good luck. He’s not normally, or at all, embarrassed when it comes to sex things. I think the only thing that would actually get him would be like his power bottom facade being revealed to be a whiny little bitch in secret. Like maybe a picture of him crying his eyes out on bed slips into the Vees group chat… oops! See that would bother him. He’d be spam texting you to “Delete that right now or I swear to FUCK—“ but the damage is done and you’ve successfully humiliated that dumb slut of an overlord.
Gentle sex with the Vees
So when I say RARE CIRCUMSTANCE, I mean it. Because they are such fucking shits all the time, relentlessly. But on occasion, everyone needs a nice, tender fuck. Including you.
Like I could all see them kinda taking turns with your attention, getting you off semi-selflessly so you’d be nice with them in return. I’m going to be real though, I don’t have a lot of ideas for this one, because I haven’t put much thought into it.
Basically, if you have any ideas for dom reader and gentle sex with the Vees, send them in. I’m lost.
BONUS*** Fancy gala idea
Drawing attention to this idea because it is GENUINELY SO SILLY AND REALISTIC.
You’d arrive at the fancy gala and they’d all be all over you. Velvette holding onto your arm with her hand on her hip as she surveys the area, Valentino sanding directly behind you with his hands resting on your shoulders, and Vox hovering close by, making sure he’s just a little bit in front of you but talking at you so obviously everyone in the room thinks you’ve arrived together.
Because then absolutely they would be telling everyone they talk to, like just slipping in the idea that you’re their plus one. And they’d even talk to some of the same people and have to clarify like “Oh those two have no idea what they’re talking about, y/n arrived with me, let’s get that straight.”
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a/n — I actually have nothing to say for once in my life! Hope you enjoyed.
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missnxthingg · 3 days
Text
𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Actress!Reader (Enemies to Lovers & Fake Dating AU) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando Norris really messed up on the first time meeting one of Hollywood's newest and hottest stars, Y/N L/N. But when his reputation gets too bad, she might be the only one who can save his career from being completely doomed. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 4.1K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing, crashing and some comforting 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - I'm so sorry for no updates the past week, everything was a mess in my life to the point that I didn't even comment the race in here. Anyway, here's a big ass chapter to make up to you!
series masterlist | main masterlist | main blog | taglist
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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐌
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One more loud banging on the bathroom door and Y/N could already feel her good mood slowly drifting away with every knock. She hasn’t been there for longer than ten minutes; yet Lando was behaving like she had been in there for a lifetime.
“For fuck’s sake, I’m almost finished!”, she shouted, getting back to her skincare routine. 
“We’re going to be late!”, he responded from the outside. How dramatic. There was still an hour and a half until they were supposed to be at the grid. They already had their breakfast and Lando was always quick at the shower. But everything was a reason to start a fight between them.
So when she opened the door, Lando was fuming. Y/N pretended that everything was normal and went to get her outfit picked for today, ignoring the stare he had over her. “I can’t believe they didn’t book us two rooms”, he complained.
“Well, darling”, she called sarcastically. “We are supposed to be a couple. And couples don’t sleep in separate rooms”.
Lando ignored it and slammed the door behind him. And just like she expected, he took ten minutes to get ready. Meanwhile, she did a quick makeup and was now finishing a few steps while he dressed up. He wore the usual: McLaren bright orange shirt, black trousers, a cap from his merch collection and all the fancy accessories he loves wearing. 
In contrast to his casual clothes for a race weekend, she picked a mini white dress, that definitely was a little more dressed up for the occasion. Totally contrary to his sporty style, but not overdressed for the event. Just enough to make him stop their banter and look her up and down with a smirk on his face.
“Don’t look at me like that”, she groaned, going back to the mirror to put on some lip gloss.
“Like what?”, he giggled, cheeks flushed by getting caught.
“Like I’m a piece of meat”, Y/N turned back to him, but Lando decided to ignore her words.
“You know I hate the taste of this lip gloss”, he commented, taking the tube away from her hands. “I’m going to buy you those minty ones. This one is just rubbish”.
“You’re not required to kiss me at all, Lando. I actually prefer no contact whatsoever with your filthy lips”, she smiled cynically before pulling the lip gloss from his hands. “Are you ready to go or not? You’ve been complaining all morning, but you’re taking forever”.
“Come on, let’s go”.
Today would be the first time Y/N stepped into the paddock as Lando Norris’ girlfriend. They have been out and about for a month now, soft launching on Instagram and popping out in different places all around the world. But today, walking into the race weekend together, would be a way to make it all official.
The response so far has been positive. Lando managed to finish P3 in a race after they popped up together for the first time, and a lot of people connected that with him settling down. Also, people seemed to enjoy them as a couple, considering Y/N is a super sweet celebrity that everyone adored. Them being together only made her popularity rise up so quickly. It was a win for both of them.
This weekend on the media pen, Lando showed up confident for the Miami Grand Prix. He was hopeful to do well at qualifying and have a great race Sunday, just like the previous GP. Then later that night, he was spotted out with Y/N for dinner, finishing their date at a bar, where they made out for hours and were photographed and commented on by everyone on social media. Lando Norris was in love, and it was making a good mark on his career, they all said.
But even with the good response for their relationship, Y/N was nervous about stepping into the paddock for the first time. She knew how many girlfriends of the drivers suffered from backlash from the public, and she feared she might have to go through the same thing. Also, knowing it was all a lie made her very nervous as well. In a few months, there would be a lot of gossip about her life and the reason why they broke up. Was it too late to back off this agreement?
“You okay?”, Lando asked, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts while she glanced out the window. She was being super quiet on their drive to the paddock, enough to make him question the reason. “You haven’t insulted me in ten minutes. Also, you look like you might puke anytime soon”.
“I’m nervous”, she admitted as she picked on her nails to keep herself distracted. “I mean, now I’m not sure this arrangement was a good idea for us. When it’s time for us to break up, there’s going to be so much speculation about our lives”.
“Welcome to the fame game”, he laughed sarcastically and showed no sympathy for her feelings. Lando was still pissed about this agreement, especially now that they were spending most of their time together.
The past month hasn’t been the easiest for them to pretend to be a couple. Every outing they had together was accompanied by a huge fight when nobody was looking. It sickened them both to have to pretend to be in love with someone they hated. As she kissed Lando, Y/N was constantly reminded of all the bad things he ever said to her. And on the other way round, Lando felt stupid for having to lie just for the sake of his career. Did he really need a girlfriend to prove he's any good?
Out in plain sight, Lando was a gentleman. He climbed out of the car and then opened the door for her. Y/N took the hand extended to her and laced her fingers with his. Both of their hands were clammy out of nervousness. Today, Norris had two things to worry about: getting a good position on qualifying and what people might think about his new girlfriend. Hopefully, they won't react badly like last time.
“Ready to be the new Mrs Norris?”, he asked sarcastically, as he pulled her under his arm so they would walk together.
“Don't even joke about that”, YIN was about to roll her eyes, but had to force a smile when she saw a few fans standing in front of them.
“Smile, first lady of motorsport”, he whispered in her ear.
"You're not that good to have me considered as first lady", she hissed back, but keep the looks for everyone around them.
Lando let go of her to say hello to some fans. He took pictures with them; signed photos, shirts and caps; and had a nice chat with all of them. Meanwhile, Y/N did the same with the people who recognized her, which was a fair amount. He was the rockstar of the moment, but she shined just as bright as he did.
“Lando, is that your new girlfriend?”, a fan asked while he was focused on perfectly drawing his signature on her cap. He cracked a big smile and nodded.
“Yes. She's pretty, isn't she?”, he looked back at her, and for some reason, she felt her cheeks heating up. Maybe it was the nervousness. Lando Norris would NEVER have the power to make her flustered.
"She is! My boyfriend and I love her show", the fan commented. “You make such a cute couple”.
“Thank you. Would you like a photo with Y/N? I promise she only bites when required”, he smirked, earning a smack on his arm.
“Lando, shut up!”, Y/N called out as she approached them, ready to talk to the fan.
And so they carried on with their parade around the paddock. All smiles and all the photographers and filmmakers attention. It wouldn't be a surprise if their “relationship” is featured on next year's season of Drive to Survive. Hopefully by then, their relationship will just be a story to tell. 
By the time they arrived at the McLaren motorhome, Lando let go of her hand to say hello to everyone. As much as she despised him, Y/N was impressed with his politeness with his team. He knew everyone by name and made sure to say hello to every single person he crossed. Also, to keep up with the looks, he introduced his "girlfriend" to everyone. The team seemed happy that he had found someone to take care of him. It hurt Y/N a little to be lying to all of them, because everyone seemed so nice. Even the people who knew it was all an act treated her nicely.
“Are you enjoying being a WAG?”, her PR agent asked, trying hard not to laugh at the face Y/N was making.
“I think I might puke”, she admitted, making her agent not resist cracking a laugh.
“You know, he's not as bad as you think he is. You might have started on the wrong foot, but Lando is a nice guy”.
“Well, that's the problem with him. He's nice to everyone but me”.
The rest of the day was one of the best acts of Y/N's life. Lando dragged her up and down the paddock, showing everything she needed to see. She had been to races before, but was never shown around by someone who actually understands everything. So if she thought it would be a boring day, she was fairly wrong. Also, being able to keep up with the good looks and not fight was the nicest part of the whole experience.
Was that how it feels to date Lando Norris? Getting to know the awesome world of motorsports, laughing at his dumb jokes, having kisses pressed to her cheeks, collarbone, tip of the nose and lips now and then. Feeling like an absolute princess, as she had the best time meeting new people. It was too good to be true. Dating him would never be that nice. In the end, that was all an act, and Y/N knew that very well.
Eventually, he retreated to get prepared for the free practice before qualifying. Y/N took that as some time to get something to eat and drink. With that, she ran into Oscar's girlfriend, Lily. They have met once at an event, but Y/N wasn't involved with Lando yet. And as nice as she has always been, she approached for a proper chat as the boys had fun with their cars.
“I have to say, I never would've thought you and Lan would end up together”, Lily said. “But I get it. Lando has that glimmer in his eyes every time he looks at you”.
“Does he?”, Y/N sounded more ironic than she wanted. Was Lily lying to her face just like that?
“Well, of course! His eyes scream how much he admires you”.
Soon the conversation changed to a different subject, and you got to enjoy watching free practice while talking about life, sipping on champagne and bonding. By the end of the session, they had exchanged numbers and were now friends. Y/N felt terrible as she lied to her. Lily was too sweet for the truth.
When practice ended, Lando climbed out of the car and went straight to Y/N, stealing a big kiss from her. Confused by the action, she only came to her senses when she noticed the camera behind him. All for them.
“Enjoyed the view, baby?”, Lando asked, hand still secure on her waist. 
“Yes, it was very nice”, she admitted, the nickname sickening on her throat. “Lily kept me company”.
“Papaya queens cheering for the papaya kings”, he joked, pulling her for a brief kiss before going to talk to his team post session.
Y/N knew it was all an act, but she was enjoying being around that Lando. The easygoing, always smiley and nice to everyone Lando Norris; not the absolute drunk dickhead she met a year ago. Also, not fighting with him is always a win. Even being alone with him in the driver's room didn't feel insufferable.
Lando was lying in his tiny bed with his eyes closed, trying to rest until qualifying. Y/N was keeping up with a few tweets about her presence in the paddock, feeling relieved with the good amount of nice comments on social media. The scariest part of this fake relationship was finally over. 
“They like us together”, she broke the silence, making Lando open his eyes. “I guess there will be no hate for us”.
“Thank God! At least we won't have to deal with negativity this weekend”.
YIN didn't recognize that Lando. He had never treated her as an ordinary person. No snarky comment or insults. It was just him being an ordinary person. Maybe the good mood helped a lot. After all, later that day, he qualified P2 and would be starting on the front now on Sunday. Everything was working in his favour, and the way he was treating Y/N was a consequence of that.
When the next day arrived, they repeated every action from Saturday on the paddock; walking hand in hand, talking to fans and smiling for the cameras. Y/N also had an even better time by seeing some familiar faces that Sunday. Being in the Miami Grand Prix made everything easier, since a lot of Hollywood celebrities came to see the US race. 
Lando's good mood carried on with him throughout the day. Anyone could just see his passion for the sport in his eyes. Sometimes, Y/N thinks that the way he acts with her on the paddock is a reflection of his love for his job. So him being in a good mood and treating her right brought mixed feelings to her chest. It was almost scary how comfortable it was to be around him this weekend, or how her heart softened every time she saw him just doing his job.
“I was thinking that maybe we could put on a show before you go in the car”, Lando suggested as he got ready for the race in his room. “Like a good luck kiss and a hug, maybe”.
“Yeah, that would be cool. The internet would love it”.
“And I also never had anyone do that for me, So I think it would be nice to know how it feels like”, he shrugged with a smug smile on his face.
God, she wanted to punch herself in the face because of all the mixed feelings on her chest. “So you never had someone giving you a good luck kiss before a race?”
“Never”, he admitted.
“I'll be honoured to be your first, Norris”.
And that's exactly what she did. When the time came, Y/N helped Lando close his suit and held his face between her hands. They didn't even look around for cameras, making sure it was all registered for their stunt. She just pressed her lips to his in a sweet kiss and smiled when he pulled away.
“Good luck, Lando”, she wished him, earning a beautiful and genuine smile from him. It was quite literally the first time Lando truly smiled at her.
“Thank you, Y/N”, he kissed her again before pulling her from a hug. 
For a second, both of them forgot about their little agreement. Lando pulled her for a hug because he felt like he needed that power up before jumping into the car. Then, if the hug wasn't so confusing, he slipped a headphone into her ears and showed her a spot from where she could watch the race. She didn't know if it was for the stunt, but Lando pressed another kiss to her forehead and went into the car. Little did she know he did that out of impulse, not because they should pretend to be in love.
Lando only noticed the camera once he was in the cockpit. Y/N was left shaken by his actions in the back, with her mind anywhere else but at the McLaren garage. She was only pulled back from her thoughts when Lily sat next to her and put a hand on her knee, offering her some company for the race.
And what a race that was. Both Lando and Oscar were flying on the track, with an excellent pace and a chance for a double podium for the team. Norris had his P2 secured through almost all the laps, until the weather changed, and a sudden rain made him lose control of his car. His McLaren spun around, hit the wall and was immediately retired, keeping him from finishing the race.
It wasn't a bad, concerning crash; but it was definitely frustrating. After a quick stop at the medical centre, Lando came straight back to the McLaren motorhome, where he locked himself in his room. "I don't want anyone here, please", he mumbled to Zak Brown before closing the door. If it was frustrating for the team, it was even more frustrating for the driver. A really great weekend down the drain, all because of some rain.
"He won't talk to anyone", Zak said. “I knocked and tried thrice”.
All the eyes at the garage turned to Y/N, his ‘girlfriend’, who didn't think twice before speaking. “I'll talk to him”, she said, promptly getting off her seat.
She didn't knock before entering the room. Lando was sitting on his couch, hugging his legs, face hidden behind his arms. He wasn't a loud crier, but she could definitely see him sobbing. When he noticed a presence in the room, he looked up to tell them off, knowing it was probably Zak. He was taken aback when he saw Y/N by the door.
Her heart crushed at the sight. The tears streaming down his face, the lifeless eyes, the semblance of someone who has been defeated. That wasn't the happy and full of life F1 driver she had the opportunity to meet that weekend. What Y/N felt at the sight of Lando was too strong.
“Please, Y/N, now's not the time for a stunt”, he started, but she cut him off.
“Are you okay?”, she dared to ask, making Lando surprised with the question. And for some reason, he decided to be honest with her.
"No", he whipped a few tears from his face and snorted. 
“I'm so sorry about the crash“, she dared to approach Lando and sit next to him on the couch. “You didn't deserve how it ended. You were doing so good”.
“Well, it doesn't matter now. It's clear that I'm a shitty driver, who's been having a shitty year because I can't properly do my job”.
The truth is that, deep down, what frustrated him the most was that he was finally proving everyone wrong. Proving he could get results and that he's a driver who belongs to stand on top of podiums. He didn't need anything else than results to prove that. And when he was finally getting there, the rain washed it down.
"Don't say that, Lando", she scolded him. “I know I'm not exactly friends and that I'm probably the last person you want to see now, but you're such an amazing driver. I got to see it all with my own eyes this weekend”.
“Liar”, he mumbled, face going back to its hidden place between his legs. “It hurts. It hurts that I can't win a race. It hurts that the team doesn't trust my reputation and is asking me to lie. Everything fucking hurts”.
Probably, Y/N is the last person he should be talking about this subject. But weirdly, it was too comfortable to blurt it all out with her. She understood him, and for some reason, even after all the hatred they felt for each other, she wanted to comfort him.
“I'm not lying, Lando. I know you don't trust my words, but I'm telling you the truth”, she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. And before she could continue with the speech, Lando wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. Surprised with the action, Y/N rolled her fingers through his curls and let him cry as much as he wanted.
Frozen and taken aback by their position, she remained quiet as he continued sobbing on her shoulder. Maybe it was all he needed; a shoulder to cry on and some steam to let go off. What she wasn't expecting was what he said next.
“Talk to me, Y/N”, he asked, his voice bargained on his throat.
“What do you want to talk about?” She asked.
“Anything. Just… talk to me. Get me distracted”.
Lando wouldn't admit it ever, but her voice was calming him down from everything he went through. Her smell was keeping him grounded, and her touch was slowing down the heart on his chest. At that moment, he didn't care about the reason why she was making him feel that way. He just wanted to feel better.
“It was so nice to see you working today”, she admitted, making Lando’s heart skip a beat. “You can just see it in your eyes how much you love this sport, and how much you work to make sure you accomplish your dreams. Makes me feel really close to you, because I want the same things”.
Y/N was speaking from the heart. Without giving much thought into her words, she simply said what was on her heart. And it worked, because Lando had stopped crying. She could feel his fingers squeezing tightly around her waist, making her continue her speech.
“You did so good this weekend. P2 in qualifying and P2 through the entire race. Tell me about an impressive performance”, Lando looked up, now with a small smile on his face.
“I was really good, wasn't I?”, his thumbs were still drawing circles on her waist. 
“You were! I was very impressed. The rain was just a big unfortunate”, She admitted. “So don’t let this unfortunate event, that wasn’t even your fault, make you feel sad about today. You don’t deserve this after such an amazing drive”.
“You’re right”, he leaned back and cleaned off the tears that were falling down. “But shit, this is so hard. I feel like an idiot. I could’ve finished that perfectly”.
“I know it’s frustrating, but you can look at it on the bright side”, Y/N sat next to him and rested one hand on his knee. “You're well, and alive. And you proved that, with a good car, you can do spectacular things”.
“You think so?”, his eyes were gleaming, like he adored her, and she smiled at him as she nodded.
“You’re a great driver, Lando. Don’t let those tiny bad things get to you”, Y/N rubbed her thumbs on his cheeks and whipped the few stubborn tears that still dared to fall. He smiled weakly before resting his head on her chest again.
It was strange to be close to each other like that. And it was even stranger how comfortable they felt with each other. But they let it be, because it was finally nice to be in each other’s presence. 
“Come on, let's go back to the hotel”, she tapped his shoulder twice, making him get off her. Lando accepted the offer, too tired to talk to the media or his team, and took that as a getaway.
Y/N talked to Zak and he understood that Lando needed some rest, scheduling the debrief with Lando for the next day, when they would take a plane together back to the UK. Now free to go back to the hotel, Lando took Y/N's hand and they quickly sneaked out the paddock with the help of security.
They went back to their hotel room quietly, too scared that a single word would ruin the nice interaction they just had. Y/N had Lando into the shower the second they arrived and promptly ordered them burgers for dinner. 
“You're a lifesaver”, he opened a tired smile and found a spot next to her in bed.
“This will make you feel better”, she patted his knee and got comfortable on her spot.
They ate in silence, as the sound of TV filled the room. But it wasn't uncomfortable. For the first time ever, they didn't want to jump on each other's throat. And somehow, just being in each other's presence made their hearts feel lighter.
The comedy show went on through the night, even when they found their spot in bed. Lando ignored the second bed in their room and found himself getting cosy next to Y/N. He didn't know what had got into him - maybe the crash left him needy - but he pulled her close and caged her between his arms and legs. He fell asleep tangled with her, thinking that the way his heart was racing on his chest was a problem for tomorrow's Lando.
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⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙
⤳ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins@riccdannyf1 @kapsylia @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph @itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopusus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @cmleitora @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @ellen3101 @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @naanibubbletimmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @architect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @books0fever @marialovesf1
crossed means i can't tag you! dm me and maybe we can get it fixed
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Could I request March 7th, Ei, Furina, and Navia with a partner who makes plushies?
(H:SR/Genshin Impact) March 7th, Ei, Furina, and Navia's S/O making a plushie of them
I wish for a marketable plushie of Navia.
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March almost squeals when she sees a tiny, soft version of herself resting on her bed.
And judging by S/O's proud smile, they were the creator.
(March 7th) "S/O, did you make this?! It's SOOO cute!"
(S/O) "I tried hard to capture your essence. Think I did a good job?"
(March 7th) "It's PERFECT! Come on, take a picture of me holding the plush!"
She absolutely loves the plush. Every night she sleeps, March hugs onto it tightly.
Even forgoing hugging S/O in favor of holding their very cute plushie, much to their dismay.
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Ei smiles a little when she sees the plushie of herself that S/O brought in.
Unlike most items depicting herself, this plushie was also smiling, and admittedly did look quite cute.
Ei could tell it was handcrafted, which meant even more to her.
(S/O) "What do you think?"
(Ei) "It is the most interesting take I've seen thus far. Do you plan on producing this for the rest of Inazuma?"
(S/O) "Nope! It's only for you."
Ei chuckles, gently picking the plush up and admiring the detail.
(Ei) "Then I shall treasure it for eternity."
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Furina looked extremely pleased at the sight of looking at a miniaturized version of herself.
S/O had even managed to capture her smug personality, and different blue eyes.
(Furina) "Hm, a fine job you have done, S/O!"
(S/O) "If it could talk and brag about itself, then I'd call it a 100% recreation."
(Furina) "I'll have you know, I can do a much better job than some plush telling people how amazing I am! After all, you are here with me because of it!"
(S/O) "Hah, right."
Truth be told, she absolutely adores it. She takes care of the plush and makes sure there is no dust on it zealously.
Not that she'd tell S/O that, lest they tease her relentlessly for it.
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Navia gasps as she suddenly snatches the plushie of herself, her smile growing bigger with every second.
(Navia) "How long did this take to make?! It's incredible!"
(S/O) "Oh man, the details of your dress and hair wasn't easy, I'll say that much-"
Navia puts the plushie down before grabbing their cheeks, and pulling them into a strong kiss.
After pulling back, S/O was stunned.
(Navia) "Thank you for such an amazing gift! I demand a plushie of yourself to go with mine this instant!"
Navia keeps the plushes of herself and S/O always close together in her room.
They were kept in a fancy glass case to ensure no dust got into them, just for the extra mile.
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lizzieisright · 1 day
Text
Stop the world (I wanna get off with you)
masc!reader x fem!Abby
Palestine: what can you do
Summary: You're tired of all this mandatory social stuff during another charity gala you attend. You watch Abby and wish for the time to stop so you two can have a moment.
Tags: Rich reader wears tuxedo, no other descriptions otherwise. Abby wears a dress (and she looks fucking stunning). For smut in the second half: fingering (r!abby), oral (r!abby), no power dynamics.
Notes: I blame Arctic Monkeys for this. (it wasn't even supposed to have smut, but I got carried away.)
/-/-/-/-/-/
It's been two hours since the gala started. You don't like those things: your social battery dies after the fifth person starts small talking with you - but you visit them anyway. It's for the greater good and you love charity, especially since your successful business lets you earn more money than you'd ever need in this lifetime - so you put them to work.
There's also two other, smaller reasons why you visit these events, and they're personal to you.
The first reason is vain. It's an excuse to wear the finest tuxedo you have - even though right now your bow-tie is undone and lies on your collarbone quite fashionably, and you can't be bothered to stand up from your seat as you nurse your non-alcoholic drink and stare at the most expensive pair of leather shoes you own. You're tired and ready to go home, but you catch the glimpse of yourself in the mirror and smirk - you look hot. Hot and rich. Your ego can’t get bigger.
The second reason has been going around the room talking to people and laughing, holding a glass of champagne and barely drinking from it. 
The second reason is wearing a gorgeous silk golden dress that shows off her cleavage, her shoulders, her waist and her long legs. Her hair is plaited into a fluffy braid which makes it look weightless and beautiful. Your second reason looks like an amazonian goddess and you can’t take your eyes off of her. 
You kinda wish the world would just stop for the two of you. 
Abby catches your gaze and smiles - you smile back and raise your glass. You don’t want to go and talk - she is really the only person you like in this room - and you’d prefer to have your conversation private; although getting Abby alone isn't easy to do when she is working. Abby chuckles at your tortured expression but goes back to the conversation, nods as she listens. 
Abby is magnificent and you admire her for what she does: she is very successful for her age, one of the leading doctors in the hospital that is hosting the gala. It’s rare when you could see her in anything else than scrubs, let alone a beautiful dress, and you don’t even feel bad about it - Abby wears scrubs because she helps people. She saves lives. All these fancy dinners and galas and dresses are tools for her to help her cause - to create more charity programs, to get medication more accessible, to get medical care accessible. There are no words to describe your admiration for Abby, but you hope your actions show enough. 
So you don't distract Abby from doing her work, but keep watching her from afar, enjoying her every move, every curve that this dress shows, every flick of her braid and every sparkle of her eyes. She is just so fucking beautiful. 
Half an hour later you start to get a little impatient - so you go to the balcony to let your ears rest from the whole buzz around you. You’re tempted to find Abby at this point, but she finds you first. You hear the clicking of her heels on the marble and smile before turning to face her. 
“Hi.” Abby says sweetly and you melt. 
“Hi.” You say almost dreamily, as if you can't believe she is here. 
You take your jacket off to put it around her shoulders, and Abby blushes, beautiful pink highlights her freckles. You watch her in adoration and she blushes harder when she notices the depth of tenderness and love in your eyes.
“You look gorgeous.” You tell her and Abby can’t keep herself from smiling, a little shy. “I’m glad you decided to wear a dress today.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would’ve dared to.” Abby says. She is impossibly cute when her youngish shyness takes a hold of her. “I still have to meet some people.” 
“Yeah. We’ve got people to see, places to go. I know.” You chuckle and caress Abby’s cheek reverently. She closes her eyes for a moment, basking in your touch. “I wish we could just stop the world and get off.”
Abby laughs quietly, a melodic sound that feels like home. 
“I love your tuxedo.” Abby admits and toys with the ends of your bow-tie. “It does look better undone.” There’s a small implication of something dark and hot in her words and you feel the fire starting in your lower stomach.
“Love, you’re impossible.” You sigh, not letting yourself gently grab Abby by her hips. Not the time, not the place. “You have to meet some people, remember?”
“Yes.” Abby grins and gives your jacket back. Her perfume and your cologne are now mixed and you love it. “Maybe there is someone you’d like to talk to as well?”
“With the exception of you, I dislike everyone in the room.” You deadpan and Abby laughs.
You follow Abby inside anyway and now you have her on your arm, her forearm resting on yours. You’re tired, but Abby is tired too, and you support her as she goes on the last round of meeting and talking and telling people about her projects. Abby is very determined and passionate about her work, and you chuckle in your head - you have enough money to spoil Abby for the rest of her life, and you honestly dreamt about it: just having a housewife to take care of - but instead the love of your life is a constantly exhausted overworked doctor who wants the best for people. The irony of the situation never fails to amuse you. 
“It was nice to meet you, Dr. Anderson.” The last person on Abby’s list tells her and you sigh in relief. “You’re doing very important work for all of us.”
“Thank you. It was nice to meet you as well.” Abby smiles politely and you finally walk her away from the crowd.
You put your jacket around Abby’s shoulders again and support her as you lead her to the car. You can’t wait to be home already.
“The night is cold today.” Abby notices when you get in the driver’s seat. You push the temperature higher and turn on the seat heating for Abby. “Thank you.”
“I know you love it when your butt is warm.” You tease her and Abby smacks your thigh lightly. “It’s cute.”
You live in a penthouse with a gorgeous view over the city - Abby felt a little awkward the first few times she came here, this level of luxury wasn't something she was used to even coming from a neurosurgeon's family. Now she calls this place home.
At home you open a bottle of wine and take Abby to the balcony. She looks stunning in the city lights as the wind plays with her hair and the free silk of her dress as she stands leaning on the glass railings. She looks at you and there’s so much tension between you you feel like it’d be a good idea to undo a button on your shirt. Abby’s eyes are piercing and warm, the dark trickle of her pupils follows your hand as you open your shirt. 
You love how it feels as if you took her home for the first time, as if both of you are uncertain how the night will go but you also hope for the same ending. It makes you chuckle when you hand Abby her glass of wine. 
“It reminds me of the night we met.” You tell her and Abby matches your chuckle. “I couldn’t look away from you.”
“You looked so grumpy and you kept staring at me, I thought you didn’t like me.” 
“I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful before.” You take a sip of your wine and Abby blushes. 
She is still not used to being found attractive when she presents more feminine - it took her years to gain confidence when her trained muscled body was enveloped in gentle and fragile silhouettes of dresses. But the night you met you looked at her like she was holy - and you still do - and it definitely helps. 
“I’ve never seen someone so hot being so miserable before.” Abby teases you and you both share a quiet laugh. “I don’t think if it wasn’t for your scandalous donation I would’ve come up to you.”
You remember how fast your heart was beating when Abby approached you to thank you - she was shy but cheerful and you put all effort into making a good impression that night. 
“I love you so much.” You tell Abby and finally put one of your hands on her hip. You rub your thumb over her hip bone and feel like you’re home. 
“I love you too, my antisocial knight with an undone bow-tie.” 
You beam but try to conceal it. 
“My love.” You kiss Abby’s forehead, your lips linger on her skin. “My life.” You kiss her cheek and squeeze her hip a little. You move your mouth down and leave a kiss behind her ear. “My wife.”
Abby giggles and kisses you, her mouth pleasantly cold and you wrap your free arm around her waist to press her closer. Abby feels the fabric of your slacks and your belt buckle through her thin dress and it makes her shudder; she suddenly feels hot. 
“Fuck.” Abby sighs and opens her legs, her golden dress riding up on her hip when she tries to wrap her leg around you. 
You chuckle and kiss her cheek apologetically before moving away. Abby pouts a little and you laugh kindly before you take her glass of wine from her and put both of your glasses on the near table. You don't want to ruin Abby's dress by spilling wine on it, although you wouldn't mind having Abby's perfect body covered in wine so you could like every drop and watch the dark liquid contrast with her light skin.
“Come here.” Abby sighs and you obey, kissing her again and finally hooking her thigh over your hip. 
You push Abby into the railing behind her and she hugs your shoulders while she kisses you back. You moan into her mouth, your hands roam from her waist to her hips, hungry and ready to devour her piece by piece. Only now, when you hold Abby so tightly, you notice that the silk of her dress is smooth under your fingers - there’s not ridges or bumps that would evidence there’s something underneath.
“You’re not wearing underwear?” Abby shudders when she hears your voice drop an octave, desperate. 
“It ruined the look.” Abby shrugs and pushes her cunt into your crotch, the cold silk is so thin she thinks she can grind against your belt buckle and cum just like this. “And now it seems I’m ruining the dress with how wet you got me.”
You growl and kiss Abby again, rough and passionate, not letting her take a breath. You knead her waist and thigh, riding up her dress until the slit is high enough for your hand to slip under, to the wet heat between Abby's thighs. You cup her pussy and kiss her neck, and Abby whimpers quietly. 
“Wanna know what I'm thinking about?” You murmur into her ear while your fingers find her clit and start rubbing it slowly. 
“Yeah.” Abby presses you closer, squeezes your waist as if you will walk away. As if you'd ever leave her.
“That I should've fucked you back on that balcony.” You growl into her ear and chuckle when Abby's hips start moving against your palm. “Should've gotten you dripping and shaking for me. Let you walk around and pretend to be okay while clenching your thighs so your cum wouldn't drip down on the floor.”
“Fuck.” Abby whimpers and her movements become more energetic. “Fuck me, please.” 
“What do you want?” You lick Abby's collarbone and she whines. 
“Fingers.” 
You hum and smear Abby's cum all over her cunt before sinking two of your fingers in. You watch Abby's face as you slowly feed her your fingers: she is beautiful. Her cute little frown, mouth opened but no sound escaping it and crimson red blush on her cheekbones - she is God. Your God. 
“Gorgeous.” You whisper and curl your fingers inside her. 
Abby's pelvis jumps and you giggle, surprised at her sudden sensitivity. You fuck her slowly, carefully - Abby might be big and strong, but she is such a delicate woman. You make sure you treat her as such. 
“I love you.” Abby sighs while her cum drips down your hand and her thigh. 
“I love you too.” You kiss her shoulder lovingly.
You move away just enough to have some space between the two of you, your fingers still slowly fucking Abby's hole and your thumb lazily playing with her clit. Now the world has stopped and you can have her all for yourself. 
You gently brush your fingers over her shoulder and move the strap of the dress down so you could free her tits. Abby helps you and soon the top half of her dress is bundled up at her waist. You lick your lips as you watch Abby's nipples tighten from the wind, her cute little tits are all for your eyes only. 
You lean down and take her left nipple into your mouth, sucking on it gently, and Abby twitches, her cunt fluttering around your fingers. You're still slow - Abby gets so turned on when you take your time with her; the anticipation makes her so much more sensitive. 
“Baby.” Abby whimpers and presses your head closer. “You're so good.” 
You tenderly nip at her nipple and thumb her clit at the same time, and Abby clenches on your fingers.
“Baby, give me one more. Please. Make me full.” 
You buck your hips instinctively at her words, so turned on your brain barely functions by this point. You're not packing today and it's a damn pity, but you don't waste time on thinking about it - instead you take your fingers out fully. 
“You're drenched, love.” You smirk and push three fingers slowly to the hilt. “Take it.” You rasp into Abby's ear as her walls close on your digits.
Abby whimpers and bites her lip, her eyes rolling back from how good you feel inside her. It's a little tight, but Abby loves it, loves how you're stretching her. She loves the feeling of your fingers brushing over her hot walls, your soft fingertips and hard knuckles and the pad of your thumb on her clit. 
You push at Abby's sweet spot to make her moan and she digs her nails into your shoulder, her thighs starting to shake. 
“You look like a goddamn goddess.” You tell Abby in awe, but you're so turned on you can't keep your hips from bucking against her. You step closer and start grinding on her thigh, the harsh fabric of your underwear and slacks making the pleasure more intense. Abby moves one of her hands down and squeezes your ass, moaning desperately. 
“Fuck, cum with me. Baby, please, cum with me.” Abby moans and you start grinding rough and fast, grunting when the stitch on your pants digs into your clit just right. “Go faster, please.”
“So polite.” You say, panting, but you pick up your speed and Abby just gets wetter and wetter: you think you've got her cum on your cuffs by now. 
You pinch her nipple with a free hand and Abby moans louder. She puts her forehead on your shoulder and whimpers right into your ear, making you rut on her thigh harder. You're close, and Abby is close - you feel her beautiful cunt getting tighter and tighter around your fingers. You slow down and Abby clings to you, her hips bucking into your hand. 
“I'm close.” Abby pouts and you lick her neck. 
“Oh, I know. Can feel how tight you are now.” You smirk. 
It's a sweet torture for both of you - you also slow down with your grinding - but you know Abby's orgasm will be stronger after being close like this. 
“Can't wait to bury my tongue in your cunt.” You tell Abby and she gets so desperate in your hands. She clings to you, bucks her hips and tries to take your fingers deeper, and it melts your heart. 
Fuck it, you think, and then you drop to your knees. If Abby is your God, you need to worship her accordingly. 
“Baby, what-” Abby tries to say, confused when she loses the feeling of your hot cunt on her thigh, but then it dawns on her. “Please-please-please.” 
You put her thigh that was on your hip over your shoulder and push her dress up, until the entirety of it is bundled around Abby's waist. Abby is looking down at you, her mouth open and her eyes pleading, and you finally lock your mouth on her pussy. 
“Oh my god.” Abby whimpers when you suck on her clit. “Oh my god, baby, I'm gonna cum, fuck-” 
You hum, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as Abby's taste envelopes your senses. Her cunt is always so soft and so hot, and you can't help yourself: you bury your face in it, licking her up from her hole where your fingers slowly fuck up into her, and to her clit. Abby holds your head with her hands and starts bucking her hips into your face, riding your tongue, and you relax: you let her use you as she pleases. 
Abby's voice becomes higher and louder, and she presses you closer with the heel digging into your back. It's kinda painful since Abby is still wearing her stilettos, but you don't care. You're high on her, and being pulled closer, having her scent and taste and warmth surrounding you is pure bliss. You're still slow and it makes Abby more desperate as she chases her orgasm, but she doesn't ask you to go faster - instead she bucks her hips rougher and doesn't leave you a choice but to eat her out like she wants it. 
“Baby, wait, fuck, wait-” 
Her approaching orgasm feels different, too intense - and she knows what is going to happen, but she is always embarrassed when she squirts right on your face - she wants to ask you to stand up, but she can't, lost in her pleasure. 
You know she is going to squirt as well, her walls are so tight around your fingers it is literally hard to move them and your wrist starts to cramp now, but you keep fucking her, because you want her to squirt all over your face. 
“Fuck!” Abby screams and folds, holding to your head for dear life and unconsciously pressing you closer to her cunt with her thigh on your shoulder, almost suffocating you, drowning you in her cum. 
You would die as the happiest woman on Earth if this would be your last moment: between the legs of the love of your life, drenched in her cum. 
Abby is still whimpering and you keep your fingers moving gently just to prolong her pleasure, and you keep eating her out just to get all her cum, softly moving your tongue around. 
“Fuck.” Abby pants and watches you between her thighs. You're absolutely pussy drunk, soaked to your chest and you look high. Abby giggles, embarrassed, and puts the loose hairs away from your forehead. “I soaked you.”
“Yes. Thank you.” You kiss a trail up Abby's thigh that's on your shoulder. 
“Come here.” Abby says weakly and you carefully put her leg down and get up, holding Abby by her waist. You know her legs are shaky and you want to support her. “I'm a mess.” Abby chuckles and you kiss her neck. 
“You're beautiful. I'm definitely fucking you next time we go to an event. I don't care.”
Abby giggles and kisses you, not minding that your whole face is covered in her cum. You kiss her back and pinch her nipple gently just to make her jump. 
“Let's get you warm.” You tell Abby when you notice the goosebumps covering her arms and chest. 
“You haven't cum yet.” 
“You can worry about it when you're warm and clean.” You kiss the tip of her nose and lead her back inside. 
Abby repays you thoroughly in the shower. 
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doomsday-dj · 2 days
Text
Decorative Grapes Rizzoli & Isles Rating: T Words: 3157 (This isn't any of the things that I said I was working on but I hope you all like it anyway!)
“I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling. Everytime we see her at one of these she’s with that detective of hers and she’s practically stuck on her like a stamp. They’re always touching each other.”
“Honestly. It’s blatant. ‘This is my colleague,’ and ‘have you met my friend,’ as if anyone with eyes couldn’t tell she and that guard dog of a woman are intimately acquainted.”
“Mmm. Truthfully, I certainly wouldn’t object to being familiar with her ‘colleague.’ If it were me I’d let everyone know.”
“God, you’re truly beyond hope. Regardless, whether she wants it or not, everybody does know.” 
Maura hears a heavy door open and close and the sound of fading laughter. A very welcome silence follows, a signal that she’s once again alone in the bathroom.  Eyes closed, body trembling, she leans back against the smooth metal wall of the stall she’s been hiding in. 
Ten minutes ago, Maura’s phone had pinged with an urgent email from the governor’s office and she’d excused herself from Jane’s company to find a quiet place to respond. She’d been tapping away in the bathroom when the women had entered, her presence silent enough that they clearly thought they were alone. Neither had needed the facilities for any of their traditional uses, leaving Maura with the devastating conclusion that their only reason for coming into the bathroom was to gossip about her.
Maura tries her best not to cry. She presses a cool hand first to her throat, then her cheek, trying to relieve some of the heat that has gathered beneath her skin. She’s absolutely burning up, flushed with embarrassment and shame at what she’d just overheard. 
The conversation was such a cruel confirmation of what Maura has long been fearing. She already knew she relies too much on Jane’s company at these events, but thanks to those loudmouthed women she now also knows she’s been doing a terrible job of hiding her ever growing affection for Jane.
Maura breathes in for four seconds, holds her breath for seven, and then exhales for eight. She does it again as she exits the stall to wash her hands and again as she presses a piece of damp paper towel to her still-flushed chest and neck. 
When the reflection in the mirror looks sufficiently calm, if still a bit ruddy, she exits the bathroom. As Maura anxiously scopes out the event space, she realizes that the worst part is she hasn’t the first idea about which two women were talking about her. 
She zeros in on Jane lingering by where a dessert buffet has been set out on one side of the ballroom. She’s easy to spot: her height and her wild hair and her suit all readily mark her as different. It’s Jane’s nicest suit, which Maura appreciates, but with the caterers in tuxedos, Jane is unquestionably the least fancy person in the room. Maura loves that. She loves her. Jane diligently comes with her to every charity auction and gallery opening, unselfconsciously rubbing shoulders with her acquaintances and serving as her social interaction sounding board and shield, and all Maura has done to repay her is get her name dragged through the mud. 
Maura makes her way over quickly. Jane seems to know on instinct when Maura is close and turns to face her just as Maura makes her final approach. Jane’s warm smile, usually so effective at making Maura feel at ease, causes a lurch of guilt in her stomach. 
“Oh, hey,” Jane greets her. “I thought I was going to have to send out a search party. Do you think these grapes are decorative?” Jane nods her head at the selection of desserts. 
“I’m—sorry?” Maura trips around the prepared apology that had been on the tip of her tongue, rehearsed several times on her way across the ballroom. 
“The grapes,” Jane says. “You think they’re for eating?”
Maura blinks twice and follows Jane’s gaze to where many bunches of grapes adorn the dessert table. 
“I think they’re quite clearly real grapes, Jane,” Maura says slowly. 
“Yeah, genius, I know that part.” The words themselves are a little harsh but Jane’s voice is filled with that affectionate teasing that seems to be reserved just for Maura, a tone that makes it very clear that when Jane says ‘genius’ she means it. She’s still carefully examining the arrangement of grapes. “But are they decorative. They’re not even on the plates, they’re just like all around the plates. Is that something rich people do? I don’t want to look like some idiot townie who can’t tell a dessert from a garnish.”
Maura’s mouth opens and closes a few times. She’d worked up quite a head of steam on her way over and now instead she’s being called on to give expert testimony on grapes. Maura looks at the table again and takes the task seriously. 
“They’re probably intended mostly as decoration,” Maura admits. 
Jane weighs Maura’s perspective heavily and then shakes her head. “That’s dumb, I’m still eating them.” 
Decisive as always, Jane reaches down with slender fingers and plucks a small bunch of the darkest grapes, dusty blue-purple in colour, and plops them on her plate. She tosses one in her mouth and makes a deep, satisfied noise as she nods solemnly, visibly pleased with her choice. 
“Anyway, what’s up with you?” Jane says. She glances over at Maura as she slips another grape in her mouth. Maura watches it disappear before looking back into Jane’s eyes with a hint of panic. “You look stressed and you walked over here in that tight little way you do when you’ve got a test result I’m going to hate.” 
“What—I do not—tight?” Maura sputters. 
“Yeah, like, pinched.” Jane lifts her shoulders into a tense shrug, demonstrating. “And you walk really fast with short little steps.” 
Maura scoffs in offense but resists the urge to launch into a vigorous denial. While she’d very much like to defend her honour, or at least the length of her strides, she knows that if she gets into an argument with Jane she might never get to what she really needs to say. She sighs instead. 
“Jane, I have to tell you something.”
Jane’s head dips at the weight of Maura’s voice, concern shading her features. She glances around, then takes Maura by the elbow and draws her away from the dessert table, moving to a more private spot off to the side of the ballroom. 
“What’s up? What happened?” Jane’s deep brown eyes search Maura’s face, her hand still holding Maura’s arm. Maura chews her lower lip nervously. She’d figured out exactly how she wanted to say this when she was crossing the ballroom but now the only thing in her head is the different varietals of grapes that are on that stupid table. She’s just going to have to wing it.
“Jane, I overheard two women gossiping about us in the bathroom. I can’t apologize enough and if I’d had any idea that…well, I’m just very sorry. But unfortunately, everyone thinks you and I are together.” 
Jane’s features, which had creased with concern when Maura began talking, smooth out in relief.  “Well, sure.” Jane breathes out a sigh.  “Of course they do.” 
Maura blinks, first confused, then frustrated. She must not have said it right. Why can’t she be better at these things? 
“No, Jane,” Maura says seriously. “I mean romantically. They think we’re dating.” 
Jane stares at Maura. “Right, yeah. Obviously.” 
Maura is dumbfounded. Obviously? Her expression must be broadcasting her bewilderment because Jane’s face crinkles with tender concern. It’s one of Maura’s favourites from the catalog of Jane’s expressions she’s learned to recognize. While plenty of people have looked at her with concern in her life, it has almost always been the pitying or morbid kind, and Jane’s feels like the sun. Maura basks in it. 
“You don’t mind?” Maura asks, eyes wide with surprise and relief. 
“Maur,” Jane starts softly. Her hand is still on Maura’s elbow and her thumb rubs a soothing circle against the soft skin of Maura’s upper arm. “I do mind that they’re talking about you behind your back. That’s rude as hell. But the fact that they think we’re a couple?” Jane shrugs. “What else are they gonna think? Every single time you’re at one of these things I’m with you. We show up together, we leave together, we spend most of our time together.  It’s like…girlfriend or bodyguard, those are the options people are going to come up with.” 
“That’s absurd.” Maura exclaims and, although she doesn’t want to be, she knows she’s probably coming off a little frantic. Her heart started racing when Jane said ‘girlfriend’ and hasn’t stopped. “Why isn’t ‘friend’ an option? Because that’s the truth, we’re friends.” 
“I dunno, I think bodyguard is a little true, too,” Jane says wryly and lets go of Maura’s arm to pop another grape in her mouth. Maura shoots her a look. 
“Jane, I’m serious. Just because two people…” Maura sighs. “So we spend a lot of time together, so what? They shouldn’t leap to conclusions like that.” 
Jane makes a noncommittal noise in response. She sets her plate of grapes down and stares out onto the dance floor where couples have started swaying around to the jazzy house band that began playing after dinner. After a silent moment she looks back to Maura. 
“You wanna dance?” Jane asks. Maura looks at her incredulously and Jane offers another shrug in return. “I mean, they’re gonna think it either way, so you might as well get to dance. You always say how you want to.” She holds out her hand, palm up, and Maura stares at it like she’s never seen one before in her life. 
“I…okay,” Maura says dumbly. She places her hand in Jane’s and allows herself to be led out onto the dance floor. She feels immediately like every eye in the room is on them but when she glances around she finds that couldn’t be further from the truth. 
Then she’s in Jane’s arms. 
“Can I ask you a question?” Jane asks at the same time that her hand slides around to the small of Maura’s back, her other hand still clasping Maura’s and raising it up. Maura can’t pretend she isn’t shocked that Jane is this confident about dancing. She stares at Jane in a daze. 
“Sure, yes.” Maura swallows with some difficulty and slides her hand up Jane’s arm until it winds over her shoulder. Jane’s eyebrow twitches just slightly and the smile on her face is not one that Maura can easily identify. She’s not sure she’s seen it before. Jane begins to sway them around the floor, sweeping her gaze around the room before settling it back on Maura. 
“If there was a woman who came to all of these events, each time with the same man, and she spent all her time with him and they came and left in the same car and everything we do, what would you think?” 
Maura looks up into Jane’s questioning face and presses her lips into a thin line. She blushes a bit. “I get what you’re trying to say, Jane, and you’re right, I’d think they were together. But all I’m taking away from that point is that one shouldn’t make assumptions about pairs of differing genders either.” 
“That probably is the right lesson,” Jane says as she spins them slowly around. Maura thinks they might be pressed even closer together than when they started. No, she’s sure of it, actually, because she can no longer look Jane in the eye without craning her neck and Jane’s lips are startling close to Maura’s ear when she starts talking again. “Can I ask you another question?” 
“Yes.” Maura really doesn’t mean for it to come out so huskily. 
“Ignoring that lesson you just learned…if you had a friend, a male best friend, and he spent all his time with you and made you come to his dive bar with him and drove to your house every morning for fancy coffee before work even though he’d happily drink instant and has a well documented hatred for getting up earlier than he has to…”
It’s not exactly a subtle beginning on Jane’s part and Maura has already lost the ability to regulate her breathing. She’s trying not to dig her fingers into Jane’s neck but she’s not quite sure how to keep upright if she doesn’t hold onto something. She feels the arm around her waist tighten just slightly before Jane continues. 
“...If, hypothetically, he’d run a marathon for you, pretend to be your lover to discourage a truly disgusting mechanic he definitely warned you about, and of course fill his nights with every charitable event in the Boston elite’s social calendar… What would you think?”
Maura can’t believe what she’s hearing. She especially can’t believe Jane Rizzoli just said lover. 
“Jane,” Maura exhales quietly. She wants to lean back and look Jane in the eyes, verify that all of this is really happening, convince herself that she didn’t fall and hit her head in the bathroom prompting some very vivid auditory hallucinations, but Jane’s hand slides up to the middle of her back and holds her firmly in place. 
“What would you think, Maura?” Jane’s voice is low and her breath is hot against Maura’s cheek. She shivers and grips the collar of Jane’s jacket so, so tight. 
“I would think he wants me.” It’s barely louder than a whisper but Maura feels like she’s shouting. 
“Hm,” Jane says, sounding sage, as if she’d just uncovered some difficult mathematical proof. “I think you’d probably be right.” 
This time when Maura tries to lean back, Jane lets her, her hand returning to the small of Maura’s back except a little bit lower than it was before. Jane has that same mysterious smile from earlier and now Maura’s starting to get a sense of what this one means. 
She has no less than a thousand questions about this revelation but it’s not difficult to pick out the most important one. 
“Why didn’t you say something?” Maura carefully searches Jane’s expression, which turns bashful. Jane looks awkward and vulnerable and it’s painfully sweet. Maura can hardly fathom that Jane is still managing to dance them around the room. 
“I tried to,” Jane says a bit helplessly. “Well—I tried to show you. I’m not very good with words. Unfortunately you’re not always so good without them. But I thought…you know, all that stuff you said about the signs of attraction, I thought you’d see my eyeballs having contractions and stuff.” 
“Facial muscles,” Maura murmurs. 
“Whatever,” Jane says, then clears her throat. They finally come to a stop but they don’t quite disengage, their clasped hands dropping to their sides while their other arms remain around each other. Jane’s eyes dart around uncomfortably. “Well anyway, now you know. I guess that’s also why I don’t really mind if everyone mistakenly thinks we’re dating.” 
“Would you mind if they weren’t mistaken?” Maura asks, slipping her hand free. She can feel Jane’s fingers twitch at the loss. 
“Of course not.” Jane frowns, offended at the implication. “If you want to clear things up with everyone, of course you should. Take an ad out in the next newsletter if you need to.”
“No, I don’t—that’s not what I meant.” Maura slides her hand from around Jane's shoulder to grasp one of the lapels on Jane’s blazer, her unoccupied hand coming up to take hold of the other. “I mean, what if—” 
Maura wants to finish her sentence, she really does, but when she drops her gaze from Jane’s eyes to her mouth her fingers start tugging down on the collar of Jane’s jacket and she’s just going to have to show Jane instead, like Jane had tried to show her.  
And she really had, hadn’t she? There will be time later to reflect on all the signs she missed but for now, Maura kisses Jane, lightly brushing their lips together once, twice, then tilting her head and slotting her mouth confidently against Jane’s. There’s the briefest moment of shock where Jane’s whole body goes rigid and then she melts into the contact and it sparks electricity up and down Maura’s spine. The hand that isn’t wrapped around Maura’s waist finds its place at the back of Maura’s neck, resting strong and possessive. 
Jane tastes like grapes and their kiss is a relief and a thrill and a confirmation. When Jane makes a quiet, hungry sound deep in her throat it nearly extinguishes any consideration for social etiquette on Maura’s part. Despite the very public circumstances of their first kiss, Maura so badly wants to bite down on Jane’s tender lower lip, lick along the seam of Jane’s closed mouth and waste no time when she opens it. She wants to press herself against Jane’s strong thigh and goad Jane until she pushes Maura up against the nearest wall. More than anything, Maura wants to give those two women something to really talk about.  She does none of those things, of course, if only because Constance Isles has many friends in this room and that’s not a phone call Maura is interested in having. She does, however, prolong the kiss as long as she reasonably can before breaking off with a sharp sigh, her eyes squeezed shut. For a moment everything is still. 
“Hey,” Jane says carefully, nervously. “Are you okay?”
“More than okay.” Maura opens her eyes to find Jane’s looking the softest she’s ever seen them. She thinks her heart might burst. “I just… Well. While I’m obviously no longer worried about the spreading of false gossip, I’m still upset that they think I’m trying to hide it.” 
Jane scrunches her face into a skeptical expression. “Oh, I really doubt they’re going to think that after you kissed me in the middle of the dance floor.”
Maura blushes and glances around and this time she does spot a few sets of eyes looking quickly away. She probably will be getting that phone call after all. She releases her grip on Jane’s jacket, smoothing the creases away with the palms of her hands before looking up into the open, caring face of her best friend. Part of her feels like she should be reeling from a seismic change in their relationship, but the whole thing just feels so overwhelmingly correct and Maura finds she can only think about one thing. 
So she gives Jane’s shoulder a small shove. 
“I don’t have a pinched walk, by the way.” Maura pouts.
“Oh my god, yes you do,” Jane says, reaching for Maura’s hand and winding their fingers together again. “You can’t help it, it’s how you were raised. Let’s go home and I’ll show you my impression.” 
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reallyrallyauthor · 6 hours
Text
modern laurent leclaire- the portrait
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Summary: Laurent LeClaire is an influencer/artist hired to paint a family portrait. But the commission isn’t all he’s interested in…
Contents: 🔥18+ nsfw, modern au Laurent LeClaire, p in v smut
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You don’t have a problem with the painting. It’s the painter. 
Laurent LeClaire. Sexy, sleazy, Internet famous for posing shirtless all over social media as if his talent is so big, it pops the buttons off his shirt.
After months of his big, brown eyes and lip-biting around your family’s estate, he’s finally unveiled his painting of your deceased (and very mean) grandfather. Tonight is the 1-year memorial of his death. 
It’s a good likeness. Laurent’s managed to make the old man look human. 
Irritatingly though, Laurent is somehow even more beautiful than his work. He’s also completely insufferable. 
More specifically, he is laying it on very thick with your mother tonight. Kissing the back of her hand, keeping her champagne flute full of fizzy wine and a fresh strawberry. Regaling her with bullshit stories about his time in the French countryside like he's some 19th century lothario looking for a rich female patron to keep his wallet and bed full.
Laurent looks at you from the corners of his eyes, as if he can hear your thoughts. You turn away quickly.
You wander over to the cold hors d'oeuvres table, picking off the cherry tomato and carrot garnishes.
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, annoyed because you’d let your mother talk you into wearing heels.
"Are you vegan?" A voice from behind asks you.
You let the little tomato burst in your mouth carefully, then swallow it before answering. "No, but I hate food like this. Everything’s tan-colored mousse or bland chicken or-"
Laughter interrupts your diatribe. You turn and are surprised to see Laurent. 
“I thought you only laughed at your own jokes,” you say dryly.
Your gaze flicks down to the half-unbuttoned shirt under his suit jacket.
His smirk says that he noticed you looking.
"Do you like what you see?" He says smoothly, popping a grape from one of the trays into his mouth and chewing it dramatically.
"You're such a fucking poser." You turn and walk away without a smile.
Laurent catches up with you, his soulful eyes undeterred. "Your mother told me you're the feisty one in the family."
"Yeah? That's true. Hey, while we’re on the subject of my mother,” you stop short and turn to face him. “If you hurt her, I'll twist your dick off with my bare hands."
The smile drops off his face, but he quickly recovers with a glance over your body that makes your stomach heat and clench. 
By the time his eyes meet yours again, his easy smile is back. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t like me at all.”
He flags down a waiter with the drinks tray. 
You fold your arms and keep walking away, but Laurent follows you out of the library, where the memorial is being held. 
Worked up into full anger, you check the hall to make sure you and Laurent are alone. Fancy dress be damned, when your mom’s out of earshot, the language you use is your own business. You cannot let this guy seduce her.
"Look," Laurent says with a charming smile, handing you a glass of champagne. He’s somehow managed not to spill a drop. "I was only trying to get your mother to introduce me to you. You’ve been avoiding me ever since I was hired."
You ignore the drink and walk away again, hoping he doesn't follow you this time. 
"It's true," he insists with a big smile, dogging your heels. "All due respect to your mother, but she already propositioned me about three months ago. So, if I'd wanted to hit that, I could've."
"You're unbearable," you say, turning a blind corner and finding yourself in the empty formal dining room.
The door to the kitchen isn’t an option. The catering staff is busily prepping and serving trays of food behind it. The door you just came through is blocked by Laurent and his floppy, curly hair.
He walks forward toward you, his eyes looking down your body. He licks his lips. "Pull up your skirt."
"Get fucked, LeClaire." But your words don't have nearly the anger and snap you intend.
"Your nipples are hard," he says. He lays his hands on your hips and you lean into his body without a thought. The bastard.
You'd always thought of painters as having long, delicate fingers and hands with a feather-light grip. But Laurent's hands are firm, his fingers strong and thick.
He leans his head in quickly and sucks on the skin of your neck lightly, kissing and rubbing his lips over you.
His hair smells like paint and canvas. Or maybe it’s your imagination.
You push your fingers through his hair as he kisses lower and lower, pushing aside the strap of your dress to run his tongue along your skin. He has your dress halfway down your chest before you even register he’s doing it. 
Laurent pushes you against the table and you sit back on it, his body resting between your open legs. He hikes up your skirt. You let him.
“I still hate you,” you say, holding his head to your body, his mouth around your nipple.
“Does it feel good?” Laurent says, his hand between your legs, already pulling aside your underwear to feel you.
“Yes,” your hips writhe against his hand, his fingers dipping inside of you.
His mouth latches onto your neck, sucking hard, his teeth grazing your skin. You’re going to have a mark.
“I’ll make you feel even better,” he says, kissing you hard on the mouth.
His tongue glides between your lips at the same time he works two fingers inside of you. You feel him smile.
“Do you feel how wet you are for me? Hmm? I think your body was meant to be mine.”
You wrap your legs around his hips. He pulls his hand back and undoes his belt and pants.
“I’m not yours in any way, shape, or form,” you tell him, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. “Fuck, you’re just as hot as your insta.”
He smirks. “You never saw this online, did you?”
Laurent pushes down his pants. They get caught on his thick thighs, but they’re down enough for you to see his cock.
“Actually, I have,” you say, wrapping your hand around him, delighted that he’s even bigger in person. “Your nude self-portrait sold at auction for like, a million dollars. Everyone’s seen your dick.”
“Oh, yeah,” he laughs, “well, now you get the real thing.”
He pulls at your underwear, snapping the side seams and tossing them aside. He barely takes the time to line himself up. You throw your head back as he thrusts quickly, once, and then again. The stretch is pure bliss, your wet cunt making it easy for him to fuck you hard, rattling the long table and chairs, knocking them together over and over again.
“Fuck, Laurent- oh fuck.”
“I love the way you say my name,” he growls. “Come for me. Come on, come around my cock.”
You dig your nails into his upper arms, leveraging your body against his, feeling how tight you are, how your own wetness is dripping down your skin and onto the table.
He’s so hard. So good. The head of his cock catching and pulling as he thrusts his entire length quickly in and out of you, then grinds his fingers down onto your clit in teasing circles.
Laurent’s lips crash into yours as you come. You bite his lip and he hisses in pain, opening his mouth to swallow your whimpers as you pull him close with your heels dug into the soft cushions of his ass.
He bumps his hips against yours, tensing as his own orgasm overtakes him. You taste the blood on his lip and you suck on it gently. Laurent moans loudly, his fingers gripped hard around your body. You feel his cum flood inside of you, making you shudder and kiss him again.
“Shit. My God. You’re amazing,” he pants, his muscles relaxing as your minds clear. “Are you single?”
You laugh. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”
Laurent laughs too, but this time you can tell he’s laughing at himself, which is actually charming. Not that fake, artist, bullshit charm he uses on people.
He swipes his fingers over his lip. He shows you the drop of blood. “Is this how you usually like it?”
You flick out your tongue and lick it from his fingers. Laurent’s eyes widen.
“We’re going to have fun, you and I,” he says, his dark eyes sparkling.
He reaches over to a stack of cloth napkins behind you and takes one off the top. With a sharp exhale, he pulls out of you, taking care to help you keep most of the liquid off of you. He even grabs another cloth to gently wipe along your sensitive skin and thighs.
“Thanks,” you say, trying to calm your heartbeat with big breaths.
Laurent still hasn’t stopped smiling. He puts his clothes back in order. He brushes his fingers through his curly hair, neatening it.
“When can I see you again?” He asks.
You hop off the table and pick up your ruined underwear. There’s no garbage can in the formal dining room, so you ball them up in your hand.
“Well,” you say, walking over to the mirror over one of the console tables and make sure your makeup isn’t too messed up, “my grandfather’s portrait is done, so you’ll be leaving, right? I guess this was it.”
You flash him a smile, pleased with the convenient excuse, and start to leave, but Laurent runs to partially block your path.
“You’re kidding,” he says, astonished.
You lean away from him. “What? Hasn’t anyone ever turned you down?”
Laurent opens his mouth to speak, but then closes his lips dumbly.
“Oh my God, you’ve never been turned down,” you say, just as astonished.
He shrugs. You’re surprised to see a tinge of pink flush over his cheekbones, from just under the bridge of his nose out to the ridiculous sideburns that are part of his trademark.
You snort. “Welcome to the real world, Laurent. That was great sex, yes, but you’re the most toxic guy I’ve ever met. It’s not happening again.”
He scratches his cheek, handsome face befuddled. “I guess I won’t try to change your mind.”
He steps aside and you walk back into the hallway.
“Yet,” you hear him say as you walk away.
The reception is still in full swing when you rejoin the party. You grab a glass of champagne and find your mother, who’s holding court with a group of business associates.
She says goodnight to them and walks over to you.
She loops her arm in yours. “You look flushed. Slow down on the wine, we still have an hour of this party left. At least people are getting drunk enough to start saying how they really felt about your grandfather, though. So, that's entertaining. Oh, I forgot to ask, do you like the portrait?”
You turn and look. “I do. Despite it being painted by a complete twat.”
“Your grandfather was a twat,” your mother whispers. She squeezes you. “But I am glad you like it. I’ve commissioned Laurent to do one of you. He said it might take a little longer because he’d like you to sit for him, like artists used to do back in the olden days. I think he has a little bit of a crush on you. Isn’t that romantic? Honey?”
Your mother squeezes your arm, but your body is frozen in place.
As she was speaking, her words putting a lead pit in your stomach, you’d watched Laurent saunter back into the room. His shirt was still barely buttoned. His eyes zeroed in on yours.
As if he knew just what she was saying, he leaned against a bookcase and blew you a kiss with his lips, the cocky look back in his eyes.
Laurent takes his hand out of his pocket and you see a glimpse of white in his hand. Your ruined underwear. You must have dropped them in your rush to leave. He puts them back in his pocket.
“Excuse me, mom, I think that last glass of wine went to my head. I’m going to get some fresh air.”
You leave the room, grabbing your phone from where you’d stowed it in a drawer. It buzzes immediately.
Laurent: Sit for me Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays
You duck out of the room, texting him back.
You: no fucking way lose my number
Laurent: negotiate w me in person. I’m already in your room upstairs.
You: …
omw
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cherriesformatt · 2 hours
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Hi could I request Matt x reader
They are in their senior year of Highschool and it’s prom season.The reader is sad because she never had any romance in her life and dreams of a promposal.Matt really likes the reader and even though he doesn’t like bring attention to him he surprises the reader.
promposal || matt sturniolo
matt x fem!reader
warnings: none, fluff!
word count: 1,1k
a/n: I hope you like it and I did not ruin the idea!
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🍒
I came home and tossed my bag and car keys on the cubby.
"Hi! I'm home!" I yelled to check if anyone was back from work or in case of my brother from school.
Only echo answered me and I sight of relief because the last thing I wanted was to small talk with everyone how my day was.
I went to my room, stripped from my clothes and wrapped my body in white, fluffy robe. I took change of clothes, my phone and dragged my feet to my parents master bathroom. They had huge bath tube and my mom had all those fancy stuff from TikTok to make a relaxing bath.
I made myself one with lots of bubbles and got in. I didn’t put any bath bomb or candles because it would give me a headache. The only thing I did was putting music on from my phone on the speaker in the bathroom.
I hated today. And all of this week to be honest.
It was this time of the year again. Senior year to be specific. Thats why I hated it even more because it's the last time ever for that.
For prom.
Everyone including my best friends were proposed to go to prom by their boyfriends. In every cute way possible. I was only there to fake smile and be happy for them but also a little jealous. Because here is the thing.
I was always so focused on school and soccer that I never, ever let any boy near me. It is a miracle that my best friends are still my friends. I was single through all high school, never went on any date and when I rejected some boys no-one asked me again. Which brings us here, I also was never asked to go for a prom. This time it was a little sad because it is going to be my last prom.
"I hate myself" I said and made my body to go under hot water while Frank Ocean was playing in the room.
I stayed like that for a second but I heard my music stopped for a massage notification so I sat back up and took my phone from the ground next to the bath tube splashing some water on the floor.
I checked the massage and I was a little surprised. It was from Matt Sturniolo. I knew him because his brother Chris was dating my best friend Maggie. He sometimes drives us to parties or games. He and his triplet brothers played hockey and lacrosse in our school. They were pretty good. Nick also did our yearbook this year. Matt and I never really had any class together and beside knowing him as Chris's brother I didn't really spend time with him. He didn’t usually stay at parties after games and even if he did he spent time with his team mates I did with mine.
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I smiled a little. Was he kind of asking me out? What should I do?
Wasn't I just complaining that nobody asked me out?
And I said yes.
What am I even going to wear? It’s march and it’s going to be cold on the beach.
I spend and hour in the bath and than I ate early dinner and started to get ready.
I did blow out on my hair and put a light make up on. I didn’t want to look like I care too much. I put some jeans on and a hoodie with white Air Force 1. They had blue flowers custom painted for me on them by one of my friends.
When I got a text massage from Matt that he is waiting outside a little before 7 I told my parents I’m leaving and took my purse and locked the door behind me.
He was leaning on his car and smiled when he saw me. He looked nice. We kinda matched the outfits. He also was wearing a hoodie and jeans and white air forces.
“Hi… it’s nice to see you not on the field next to mine” he said.
That’s true. We usually just had practice or a game next to each other.
“Same to you… you stole my outfit tho” I laughed as he opened car doors for me.
“I can live with matching your outfit” He smiled looking at me and he closed the doors and went to the driver seat.
We drove to the beach talking about everything and nothing. Mostly about sports and music and the midterms.
“We’re here let’s go?” He smiled when we parked.
I got out of the car and he came to me.
“Okay I know it will sound weird but can you close your eyes? And not peek?” Ha asked me.
He was nervous?
“Okay…. But if you want to kill me my dad is going to find you and probably kill your brother for accident” I said closing my eyes and sticking my hand out for him.
He giggled at what I said and toon my hand to lead me.
Sun was setting already so it is going to be dark soon. I’m not sure what we are doing here.
I heard some sounds as we were walking on the sand but mostly it was sound of the ocean.
“Okay I’m going to let go of your hand… don’t open your eyes just yet” he said.
He dropped my hand and I stand waiting for him to tell me to open my eyes. I heard some voices too.
What the hell is happening.
“Okay… you can open your eyes now” Matt said from somewhere in front of me.
I opened my eyes and they automatically widened.
There was some lanterns going up into the sky. Like I my favorite movie.
Tangled.
I looked at them and then down to see where they are coming from. Whole lacrosse and hockey team were putting them up.
There he was standing in the middle with a poster that said:
Light up my night at prom?
And there was a painting of the tower from the movie. It was beautiful. I bet Maggie did it.
Nobody ever did anything like that for me.
“Matt what the hell?” I said coming up to him I’m pretty sure I had tears in my eyes now.
“Sooo?” He looked at me unsure of my reaction.
“Of course..” I said looking at him and wiped my cheeks with my hoodies sleeve.
Whole teams started cheering and I laughed.
“How did you even know? That I like the movie…” I asked.
“Well I talked to Chris and Chris talked to Maggie and you know…” he scratched back of his neck.
“Gosh I feel like I could kiss you right now…” I whispered.
He smiled and put one of his hands on my cheek and the other one wondered on my back to pull me closer to him. He looked deep in my eyes looking for reassurance but I just connected our lips together.
It couldn’t get any better. The best promposal I could ask for.
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shoshiwrites · 1 day
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my dear, I'd like to submit a Touches prompt: "#35 grabbing the other's hand to pull them back to them" for anyone who tickles your fancy. just need that sorta passion in my life 🥹
I just want to apologize for the fact that this actually is not entirely the prompt, but was 100% inspired by it — I owe you one ❤️ Bucky Egan/War correspondent OC, also on Ao3! Set a little bit after this prompt. Featuring Jo with some new mail and Bucky having some thoughts and feelings about that.
The Clarion starts running her picture with the new pieces. 
She doesn’t hate it, but at the same time it doesn’t quite look like her, the posed portrait she’d sat for in London with her hair pinned back her uniform pressed. She’s more herself in the photos Kay takes, under the cloudy English skies. But she can’t argue with it either — a uniform means something official, and isn’t that what they’re working for? To be taken seriously, to get what the boys are given without having to fight tooth and nail for it, without jokes about lipstick or hair products or a million other things on top of it.
The problem with the picture now, though, is that everyone knows who she is. Not a celebrity, that idea is laughable, but named. Josephine R. Brandt, The Clarion’s Woman in England. 
They’re like name-tags too, the adjectives used to describe her and her fellow reporters in bite-sized news items. Marian Brenner is always petite, and Kay is statuesque. Marjory Manning is titian-haired, which always gets a laugh considering Marjory makes no secret that it comes from a bottle. Jo is brunette, and pert. That word always makes Kay choke a little on her cigarette, peering at Jo and the dark circles under her eyes.
She’s spent the last few days amongst the women of the Clubmobile, sleeping in an extra bed dragged in and photographing, rather amateurly, their truck and living quarters. They were much more accommodating to her than they should have been, especially when Jo attempted to work the fryer in the name of journalistic exploration. Thankfully she was much better at cleaning, with no qualms about rolling up her sleeves. 
Her hair still smells like grease as she sits in an empty mess hall, picking at one of her nails and ignoring the stack of letters beside her. Her photographs wouldn’t quite capture what she’d tried to in her writing: the smell of perfume and the lingering fryer grease, hair tonic and newsprint and cold evening air, the blankets and bedrolls and towels hanging, tables with books and magazines and framed photographs, small pots of rouge, rosaries, hair combs and extra socks. A sprig of chicory sitting in a drinking glass, the blue flowers starting to wilt at the edges.
A name. A picture. What she hadn’t been thinking about — fanmail. 
It was ridiculous, the pile Kay had passed along to her in London and the one she was now patently ignoring next to her elbow. Next to a copy of the paper, a newer one with the picture.
She’d always gotten responses to her pieces back home, whether that meant someone arguing with her about a labor statistic she’d quoted or offering their own version of a recipe back when she’d been on the society pages. Now, overseas, with her name and her picture clear as day, it was like a switch had been flipped.
The only thing that she didn’t have to worry about was William.
The ring was sitting at the bottom of her trunk, buried under a sweater. Tatty had offered to run it over with the Clubmobile, but Jo got worried about the tires. Helen had suggested the fryer. A WAC with strawberry blonde hair voted for a storm drain. Biddick had plans that involved Corporal Lemmons and an unknown quantity of explosives. Douglass, inexplicably, had volunteered to make neat work of it on an upcoming mission. She had no idea how he’d even found out. 
Well, she isn’t wearing it anymore, right?
“Thought I’d find you in here.”
She looks up to see Egan making his way through the doors.
“Someone looking for me?”
He glances behind him and smiles, like it’s obvious. “Yeah, me.”
Maybe she knows better by now than to ask what he’s ignoring to be here. Milk run earlier this afternoon. Not flying tomorrow. 
Isn’t it time for beers and darts, right about now?
“Just answering some mail.” Actual mail, from home. Not the other stack. 
Maybe fanmail is a generous term, she thinks. Most of it is opinions, loud, of where she should or shouldn’t be. Home. Doing war work instead if she had to do something. Some less savory suggestions. Being quiet. 
“You’re a popular correspondent,” he says, sitting down across from her. 
She snorts. 
“I’m just seeing that there’s lot of letters here.”
“Astute observation, Major.” But she’s smiling. 
“Friends back home?”
“Yeah. The rest is-” she gestures, almost sighing out the answer in a sudden yawn, the light outside the soft gold of early evening. “I don’t know. People have a lot to say.”
“They do, do they?”
“Sometimes I forget that I’m not just a disembodied voice, is all.”
He looks a little puzzled, but still amused. She throws the paper in front of him, and his eyes catch the column. He whistles. “Front page, huh.”
“They haven’t used a picture before.” She nods back at the stack of letters.
“Oh.” She can’t tell if he’s about to make a joke or not.
“Might just toss them,” she says. They’d be good for the paper pulp if nothing else.
He grabs one off the top, his expression clouding over as he reads.
“They write this kinda stuff to you?” he says after a minute. One of the ones that had ideas about where she should be, namely the writer’s bed. He tosses it down on the table.
She thinks of London, and Norwich, and Pittsburgh, and Philadelphia. “They say it, too.”
He exhales, the sour expression still on his face. Like a lemon. “Sure.”
“You didn’t get to the marriage proposals yet.”
“The what?”
“They’re in there, I promise. They’re nicer.” He laughs a little, just this side of bitter. She tries to look offended, tries to lighten the mood. “Maybe I ought to be insulted.”
��No, no, I just-”
“Just what?”
He’s tapping his foot a little, she can feel it under the table. Fidgeting.
“I just feel lucky, is all.” The question of it is clear on her face. Lucky, sure, to go through hell every day and make it back here, to the ground and the summer-faded English fields. “That you’re not just a picture to me.”
Oh.
Something feels caught in her throat; it takes what feels like too many seconds. “You’re awfully sweet.”
“I mean it.” She wishes she had a little crabapple to pick at, something to do with her hands. “Don’t think a picture could’ve kissed that good either-”
She tries to whack the back of her hand against his arm, but he pulls away — hey, too quick — before he leans forward again, pulls her face to his. 
“Not here-” she says, a little too belatedly. He’s grinning, all wolfish. His hands are warm. 
“Will you go dancing with me, then?” 
A place where they can do this, she assumes, out of sight, or amongst a crowd. She says it because it feels like something she should say. “There’s something planned here for the weekend, right?”
He makes a gentle scoffing sound. “Nah, I don’t-”
“What?”
“I mean, sure, but. You know. Just be prepared for me to keep stealing you away, ok?”
“And how will that look?”Her stomach swoops, out of something like nervousness, the feel of him close to her again. 
He looks, maybe, the most boyish she’s seen him. “Like I don’t like sharing.”
Like she makes that space for anyone else. That exception. “You can reserve a spot or two on your dance card for me,” she says, diplomacy betrayed by the half-waver of her voice. 
He assents, not entirely satisfied, but doesn’t try for another kiss. Not here, at least. She feels a chill go through her then, when he pulls away from her, lets go. 
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GUESS WHAT, B*TCHES!
I’m baaaaaack!~
It’s March and I post whatever I fuckin’ want! Oh yeah, it’s a songfic!
Character: Sir Crocodile (a little bit of Katakuri Charlotte, but just a smidge)
Relationship: slight KatakurixXReader but also catching Sir Crocodile’s eye (and more)
Song: Sweet by Unlike Pluto
Warnings: forced marriage, drug mention, alcohol, Crocodile being himself
~*~
“Introducing for one night only! The beauty that pounds whiskey like a sailor and sings like an angel: (Y/N) (L/N)!”
You heard the crowd go wild.
The sigh that escaped your lips as you took a long drag of the almond-vanilla flavored cigar that was currently in between your gloved hands as you made your way to the stage.
The sway of your hips, the tight knee-high black dress with a sweetheart collar hugging your curves lusciously as your hair was kept messy, framing your face and to finish the look- a pair of Mary Jane kitten heel shoes.
Your lips were dark red but the rest of the make up was simple.
A little powder, cat-eye liner and blush.
A wink could decimate nations, said your fiancé once.
The lights on the stage were on you as the white fur coat you were wearing slid from your shoulders to your elbows as you gently gripped the microphone’s stand as your lips opened to do their thing.
“My baby and I like new silky sheets every night.
He buys me bourb' and whiskey neat,
And keeps on comin' every week…”
Your stare could only focus on the table were your lug of a fiancé was.
Charlotte Katakuri.
He seemed bored with his surroundings. Not really his scene but he had to keep up appearances as head of this town’s sweets factory. His mother made sure to pop out enough children to make an infuriatingly huge monopoly of different businesses just so she could have absolute control of most markets.
“Ooh, he wants the suburbs
When school's out for summer
And we live by his mother
I keep my drugs in the cupboard 'cause”
You could only look at him with a little spite.
“I'm only sweet when I'm high…”
You noticed that the normally serious face he wore suddenly made a move, his lips twitched downwards as he downed his LIT, completely in one gulp.
This finally got him.
He looked down at his drink as you kept singing your song, almost like if he was contemplating how guilty he felt to just have picked you from a line of potential wives his mother gave him and he just picked you.
Little, wild you.
You, whom he thought would be gracious enough to accept a marriage proposal out of the goodness of your heart.
‘What a shame’ he thought. ‘I thought this recent flight of fancy would keep her calm’ he argued with his head.
He didn’t noticed that he wasn’t the only one staring at the beauty with a savvy mouth.
He wasn’t the only magnate in this town.
“In class, I learned to lie
To pretty boys, to pass the time…”
She stared at him as she sang this particular verse.
How many times has she lied to him just to get him off her back?
How many times did she pretend to be okay in front of him?
How many times did her whispered words meant what they preached while he was in the passionate throes of sex?
He had it.
He stood up from his table and grabbed his coat, leaving on the table a shiny object with a scarp of paper that said “goodbye”.
He didn’t notice on his way out the door of the glare that was directed to him from the bar. Cigar smoke filtering out as he heard the man at the bar to bring the lady’s belongings to him, that he’d take care of her moving forward.
“'Cause I got that good shit, Alabastian pride.
Kiss the kids goodnight and take the Harley for a ride”
The man at the bar just grinned.
That seemed like Little Miss Sailor was in the market again.
Not that he had to do much.
She did it all her self in an act of defiance towards the softest yet most ruthless of the Charlotte’s. And she didn’t even get to the good part of this song.
The man at the bar was a tall man. Not as tall as Katakuri but still very tall. He had suffered the loss of a hand but that didn’t hinder him at all, he had prosthetics to make up for the loss of a limb, he just preferred the gold hook on his missing limb.
He saw how the lonely woman stared at the table bitterly, almost relieved that she didn’t have to talk to what he could firmly say was her boyfriend.
“Ooh, I get so bored, scrub the floors
Then get drunk while doing chores
Does he even know me…?”
He had enough of waiting.
“Waitress? I want that table.”
A woman like that deserved to be looked upon closely.
“Ooh, I'm never sure when he'll be home
Get into trouble on my own
I don't get lonely…”
You were still singing your little heart out as you batted your eyes to shake some of the tears. Katakuri wasn’t a bad man, but you would’ve rather to pick your own groom and wed because you wanted to.
Not because your own family wanted to have financial relief in these trying times.
Such was the life of the eldest daughter.
But no matter, you could firmly say that your groom-to-be was no longer in the horizon as he left with a disappointed frown.
“I’m only sweet when I’m high…”
You spoke the last verse, only to have the whole club erupt in howls and cheers.
With a bashful smile, you made your way behind the stage and down to the main floor.
You felt a little taken back when your things were on your usual table, but relieved when one of the waitresses directed you to your new table.
In the VIP section.
With your things.
You looked at how this dashing mystery man was taking a drag from his cigar and seemed to be pouring two glasses of champagne.
You had to be careful, however. This day and age, most men can and will do anything. But this man just massive and intimidating. The scar upon his face should’ve scared you but, you were used to men with…interesting features.
“Take a seat. We have a few things to converse about, Little desert flower.”
…to be continued?
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Boy, where’s your Mother? Fall Down Dead Dirty Mind, Dirty Mouth, Pretty Little Head
For @buggachat‘s Drowning (In Plain Sight), which is currently giving me brain worms
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wistereia · 6 months
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02 - Chrome Cybertober 2023 @gillyvor
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fahbev · 2 days
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hello yes I have just finished reading Red Robin can you tell who my favorite character is?
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Where are my Tam Fox enjoyers?
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coquelicoq · 4 months
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did i tell u guys about how my family, who have been lukewarm at best and vaguely antagonistic at worst about using they/them pronouns for my nonbinary sibling, did a complete 180 upon learning that my sibling is also good with she/her...like i can't even tell you how hard it's been to get them to even just try to use they/them and then they hear she/her and a switch is flipped in their brains that goes "you are an asshole actually" and all of a sudden my mom is buying PROTECT TRANS KIDS t-shirts and my grandmother's apologizing to me when she messes up. okay i'm glad you got there eventually but if this capability was inside you all along i don't understand why you couldn't have been doing this with the they/them set. like my grandmother told me a couple years ago that she wasn't even going to make an effort because she was probably going to die soon (<-completely made up excuse; obviously any of us could die at any time, and she is old, but she's in good health and her mother lived to be 100) and therefore wouldn't be seeing my sibling often enough for it to matter??? but she/her is worth the effort where they/them was not, apparently. like again i can't complain about the outcome but i am very much complaining about how we got here. what even is this.
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brittlebutch · 6 months
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tbh Zelda's "I think I just need to freak out for a little bit" line in Belles of the Baronies might be one of my favorite lines from her; peak "I'm not fine but it's fine" phrasing
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sushikatana · 1 month
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dont mind me just obsessed with my dark urge tav teehee
her name is delia and she's a tiefling monk/druid because i thought it would be funny classes for the dark urge to have idk
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mods used: faces of faerun, basket full of equipment, horns of faerun, customizer's compendium-npc options unlocker (for the hair im pretty sure)
also i definitely made a board for my tavs on pinterest but now its gonna be on here too since im actually trying to post shit that i care about (even if only my friends see it) :D
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