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#hell i could wear a wig everywhere
cloudshapedpatch · 2 years
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the urge to change my name and move across the country and make up a fake childhood and speak in another accent
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chihuahuawashere · 3 months
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RadioStatic
Vox has cameras /everywhere/ around all of hell but he doesn't pay attention to those. He has imps and other sinners to do that for him.
The only cameras he actually pays attention to is the cameras he put around Alastors house.
Before Alastor disappearance Vox would crash at Alastors place when he was to tired to make it all the way back to his place.
But as Alastor slept in his room Vox took the couch but as Vox was in the living room he was placing tiny tiny cameras alliii over the place. In the corner wity a cobweb, behind the books, inside of the record player, behind the sink, on top of the fridge, on top of the lights and vents, on top of the door freams /everywhere/ each and ever time Vox went to Alastors place he would add more and more cameras.
And once Vox went back home he'll watch. Never saying a word and blindly watch all of the blue screens or Alastor, never leaving the chair. Vox would be stuck in the computer room for /days/ he would foraet to eat sleep breath he would even forget his application to his job obligation.
The one room with the most cameras in it is Alastors room. Every square inch and corner in that room has cameras it was tricky to do but to Vox it was worth it. He had back up of back up of footage of Alastor sleeping and he swears it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
Sometimes when he watched Alastor sleep he has an insane urge to zap through the cameras and crawl in bed with him. But then Alastor would find out and kill hilariously on the spot so he just watches.
But it wasn’t enough //everything// wasn’t enough he wants to be closer to him. Taste touch, hear, smell. He knows he can’t so he drags a mattress into the computer room with him so that every time Alastor is going to bed he’ll lay on his bed to give the illusion that he was also laying in bed with him.
Vox would never sleep he just lays there watching Alastor sleep.
That all changed of course once Alastor disappeared. That completely rocked voxs world so hard he thought he was going crazy. At first he thought all of his cameras dead in Alastors home or he thought that something was wrong with his computers but he knew //something// was wrong he needs to see him. With seeing Alastor is a world not worth seeing at all.
After literally destroying everything in the computer room he tries to book it to Alastors place to replace the cameras and also see his beautiful face and crave that itch. But the house wasn’t there. No like the town seem to swallow it hole there was no empty space anywhere it as if his home wasn’t there at all.
Vox had walked down this road and turned to that corner so many times that he can do it with his eyes closed so… where is he? What happened?? Is he hurt??? Why didn’t he say goodbye???? did I do something wrong????? WHY DIDNT HE BRING ME WITH HIM WERE A TEAM???????
After 3 months Vox made a pillow of Alastor. Vox has been around him so long that he already knows he’s measurements by heart he cut the perfect silhouette of Alastor, made his clothes from scratch when to the same shop to get the same perfume that he always use to wear and dye and cut a wig, glued on some ears and antlers.
In the dark it look exactly like him except it has no face. Everything looks real you can even get confused it in the dark as the real Alastor.
At first Val thought he was crazy for doing that but coping is a weird thing also he was in /no/ place to try and kink shame someone so he just let it be, creeped the fuck out but tie better then some sinners he’s seen.
Vel on the other hand hates this whole thing she hated Vox for liking Alastor and he’s obsession with him but after Alastor disappeared she absolutely HATED pillow Alastor even more then anything she thought she could ever hate it so creepy especially at night. One time Vox try to make Vel have conversation with it and she blew up on him calling him a creep and weirdo that he should get and LET HIM GO.
After that Vox /never/ left the computer room. He’ll have imps come on once in a while to give him food and drinks.He was so busy looking threw all of the Security cameras around hell to see if he can find Alastor again it was his soul mission at that point.
After the year 3 mark Vox bought a RoBo Frizz and tweaked and modified it to make it look more like Alastor (basically the same thing he did with the pillow) but this time he grabbed all the files of Alastor speaking and cut chopped them all together to make answers, sentences, questions if it couldn’t get any worse it helped Vox fuel his delusion even more.
And after 7 long years of looking through all those cameras the one time Val came to visit Vox in his computer room looked terrible. Pictures of Alastor everywhere with notes and drawings and other sorts of fluids with pins on them and a bunch of colored sting all pointing to random things with new paper clippings and “Xs” drawn on them.
It all looked absolutely terrible. How can someone live like this? How long has Vox even been in here? He definitely needs to go outside. Val tries to reason with him “hey man let’s just go to the kitchen yea? Or how about we go to the bathroom? how does a bath sound?” But all Vox says is that he’s “busy doing something important”
And Val got mad at him and couldn’t bite his tongue any longer and accidentally slipped that Alastor was back. But of course Val can’t keep a secret for the life of him, always having to run his mouth even if cost him his life so it was no surprise that he let it slip that Alastor was finally back Val and Vel promised one another to /never/ tell Vox that he was back otherwise only god knows Vox would react to it.
Vox completely stoped what he was doing and for the first time in forever looked away at the computer and monitors and he just *stared* but Val with a look Val has never seen before, then Vox broke out into the most creepy and unsettling smile you could ever see in hell. /OH/ Vox couldn’t be more happier then he is right now
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ericbrainrot · 1 year
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𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and renjun spend christmas over at your parents house, and he has a surprise for you.
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: huang renjun x haitian!fem!reader
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𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff
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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.8k
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"How's this outfit?" he looked at you, standing a bit awkwardly.
You couldn't help but laugh as you stared at your boyfriend. You weren't understanding why he was nervous. Nevertheless, he looked good. This suit color suited him well, and the way his hair was styled was the cherry on top for you.
"You look so good right now... Like I wanna fuck you good," his cheeks were red as he sighed, taking a seat on the bed.
"Babe..." he groaned, placing the pillow over his face.
"I'm sorry, but it's true. You look so fine," you sat in front of your vanity, looking at him through your mirror.
"You look amazing," he was staring at you with a slight smile. Your body looked amazing.
Now he got to sit back and watch you do your makeup and fix your wig. He was always fascinated by the way you worked your magic. You were already a goddess in his eyes, but once your makeup was done... He couldn't find a word to surpass goddess. He just knew that he was the luckiest man on earth.
Today, your parents were having a Christmas party and invited everyone over. You knew that your mother only invited you over so that she could see Renjun. He was like the son she never had, and she was always spoiling him. Sometimes forgetting that you were her daughter. Last Christmas, when they were taking the family photo, you were in the bathroom and she almost forgot about you. You wondered what would've happened if Renjun didn't remind your mother about you in there.
With Renjun familiar with your family, you weren't sure why he stressing himself out. You weren't sure if it had to do with the fact that he wasn't able to be there for Thanksgiving or if he hasn't seen them in six months. He should already know that he is a part of the family, and has been for the past three years now.
Once your makeup and hair were finished, Renjun helped you tie your heels across your ankles before you got up from the chair. You looked inside your closet to see which purse you were going to wear, and you decided to wear your white medium telfar. You wanted to keep it simple tonight.
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"Rejunnie!" your mother shouted, opening the door.
She had to be watching her ring camera to see when you two were going to show up.
"Damn, whatever happened to 'hello daughter,' just straight Renjun huh?" you sighed, walking inside the house behind Renjun.
"You know that's her beloved. Ever since he got Ma' that Birkin, she doesn't know how to act for real," your sister huffed, walking inside the living room. "
She was right, the purse that she wears almost everywhere and she's managed to keep it in good condition for this long. You greeted the rest of your family with Renjun before sitting down in the living room. Guessing by the smell of the food, you could tell that the food was almost finished.
"I think my mom made Haitian Mac just for you," you looked at him while his eyes lit up.
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Everyone sat at the table. Passing down the plates, talking, laughing, and just overall having a great time. It was like this each holiday event they had and [your name] was grateful to have such an experience. Yet something seemed off, no someone seemed off. Turning to your left, you noticed that Renjun was missing. Where'd this man disappear to now? He's always doing this. Maybe he was using the restroom, so you weren't going to stress yourself out.
Ten minutes passed and he still wasn't there and everyone was beginning to clean around the table. You helped your mom wash the dishes while other family members cleaned the table and floor. The children and everyone else were in the living room chatting.
"Where the hell did he go..." you muttered to yourself, grabbing a napkin and drying your hands.
Walking to the living room, you heard everyone's voice go quiet. There stood Renjun.
"Where did you go? You had me worried sick about you..." you trailed off, walking to him.
"There's something I need to tell you..." he trailed off, grabbing your hand.
"Okay..."
"But before I speak, there's something behind you," and you turned around and saw your niece hand you a rose.
Turning back to Renjun, he was down on one knee. There was no way that this was happening. What the hell? Everyone stood and sat there with big smiles on their face. Did they know about this?
"I haven't said anything yet and you're crying?" he joked with a slight chuckle.
"Being with you for the past three years made me realize how much I love you. I know that you're the one for me and I would love to continue spending the rest of my life with you. So, [your name] would you do me the honor and marry me?" you violently nodded your head with tears falling down your face.
"Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!" you smiled at him, watching him slip the ring on your finger.
"I love you so much," you placed a kiss on his lips once he got up.
"I love you too," he smiled, placing his hands on your waist.
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*·˚ ༘♡#𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃! ˖◛⁺⑅♡
realized that i’m renjun biased and i had no oneshots for him????
anyway, happy holidays!
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Hangman and Bunny
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On this edit ⬆️ it's kinda a summary hope you like it. And for this little drabble I've been inspired by this post thanks @top-gun-rooster . I did some shitty edit: Hungnam & Pompon and Jake & Pompon plus I write this . Enjoy.
Summary: At the last minute you change your mind for the Halloween costume.
497 words not proofread.
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A Halloween party is coming, Natasha found you a perfect costume for the night. You do love it but you can’t stop thinking it won’t fit you, everybody will think you look stupid in it and it’s better to not draw attention, particularly with the army present tonight.
Hours go on, after you put the suit on, now you’re lost in your thoughts dealing between wearing a half evening half zombie make-up or something natural, and you lost track of time when people are ringing and knocking on the door.
You don’t have anymore time to change the costume and your heart is beating so fast in your chest and in your ear, that you stop to think and just do, with a white sheet and scissors in your hands.
- "What’s the hell is that?" asks in shock Jake.
- "Are you joking? Because this is not funny!" says Natasha really pissed off.
- "Umm... I thought..." you start stuttering.
- "Nevermind! We have to go." Interrupt you, Jake.
- "I like it." says Robert to comfort you.
- "Thanks. I like yours too."
Penny did a great job, her place is crowded and the new design is awesome: there are several ugly pumpkins in front of the bar, in it there are spider webs everywhere, and almost every wall is covered with bats. She twists some drinks with some Halloween speciality.
Even her costume is on point, long fire hair, a shining long cocktail dress, Jessica Rabbit twin.
And of course, everyone is dressed up too. Barbie, Vampire, Zombies, etc. Robert wears a black suit, he talks with a British accent and (not gonna lie) he's hot like James Bond. Natasha has a little pinky and green hat, and wears an orange wig, lenses and a dress, she’s a lady Mad Hatter. Since I told him he’s his Doppelganger, Mickey is Captain America tonight, he couldn’t help it. Javy is a Mandalorian and I’m wondering if he’ll take off his helmet to eat and drink in front of us or not; Reuben wanted something scary so he chooses to be Freddy Krueger. Concerning Bradley and Jake, they didn’t want fantasy costumes to wear, they choose to be pilots from WWII.
You spend only half an hour under the white sheet and have to take it off when people jostle next to you and drop their colourful drinks on you.
- "Oh my fuckin Lord!" stutter Jake.
- "That is a Halloween costume, nobody could imagine you dare to wear." says Bradley.
Natasha is amazed and thinks you’re stunning and hot, she’s smiling, and has stars her eyes. The guys are watching you up and down and think you’re beautiful in it.
You sneak out toward the counter to drink some shots and fuel your courage. The among of eyes on you and compliments are disturbing. Jake’s standing behind you and says to your ear “hope you still wear the bunny suit when we’ll be alone.”
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Materlist
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conveniencefloor · 1 year
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A Quick Summary Of Our Thoughts On Supernatural (2 seasons in)
(I’m rewatching because I never finished it, and he’s never watched it at all)
- Our recurring issue is that SO MANY of these problems could be resolved if the hunters just had a goddamn Organization with different departments! Seriously, think about it. Have a department of Therapy and Recovery for your battered and traumatized hunters, because apart from their well-being it’s a good idea because theoretically you could minimize the likelihood of hunters becoming ghosts themselves. After all, they tend to die brutal and unfair deaths, it’s reasonable that they would want to come back to protect people or finish the job. “Sure, but that’s why hunters get burned at their funerals. No remains, no ghost.” Yeah we THOUGHT. Then S2E16 rolls around and we meet Molly the ghost who, despite her body being cremated, is still out and about, because she has a one sided attachment to something on earth still (her husband). Other benefits of an organization include: A GODDAMN CLEANUP TEAM FOR YOUR GODDAMN INCOMPETENT HUNTERS LEAVING BOOTPRINTS, HANDPRINTS, AND EVIDENCE LITERALLY EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME, YOU STUPID IDIOTS STOP MANHANDLING THE BODIES AND TOUCHING EVERYTHING. Also a fucking makeup department maybe??? I have only seen 9 seasons, and it’s been a long time, but I do not recall a single episode where Sam or Dean changed their hair or wore fake teeth or wigs or aged themselves with makeup for their disguises. “OoOo we’RE wAnTeD bY thE FBI, Let’S jUsT gO inTo eVerY mOteL aNd stOre wE PosSibLy cAn, weAriNg EXACTLY THE SAME FACES WITH ZERO CHANGES” occasionally they wear a different outfit but that’s the extent of keeping their identities secret. Not even a haircut or growing out a beard. You are BEGGING to be caught. You know why else you need an organization? Because you need a goddamn research department. You need a database with TESTED AND CONFIRMED data on these things so you don’t have to keep winging it.
- You guys literally know that there’s some kind of afterlife. You know there’s a hell. You hope there’s a heaven. You know things get out. So why has no one done an iota of research on those places? You have ways to find out. Yet no one cares to. Or maybe someone HAS found out and simply doesn’t feel like communicating. Again, ORGANIZATION.
- Very convenient how all these supernatural beings are in America. I mean you can read the lore of different countries and cultures and learn about their creatures, but if those creatures have been imported you’d think you’d find local lore about something of a different (or same) name describing the same attributes/effects. It’s very weird that your only source for something happening in present day America is an ancient source local to a country halfway across the world. (I think they are aware of that for some things, but certainly not others).
-2 seasons in and the three main characters have already died approximately once each.
-“Sure, most supernatural things are true. But Christianity is the default.” As if you haven’t seen enough gods to consider the Christian god as just another one. As if the word God hasn’t lost authority in all this context you’re wading around in. No reason given for treating it as more legitimate than any other religion or belief, yet still treating it as more legitimate.
-What in the everloving fuck was the Croatoan episode. First, the editors discovered slow motion for the first time and it shows. Second, everything prior would lead you to believe that both Sam and Dean would do whatever they could to try prevent someone from dying. But Dean is prepared to immediately kill someone on the bare minimum of knowledge about the situation? Just some dude? The entire time we were watching it we flabbergasted at the inconsistency of their characters. And the editing. An outlier in our minds for sure.
-although then in S2:E17 they kill Maddie the werewolf right away. Like dude. You already know you can contain her in a wooden room for a night. Contain her in a better room a couple more nights. Then spend the whole month before the next full moon researching a cure. If that doesn’t yield anything, fine, mercy kill, whatever. But we also were aghast at how easily they gave up. Like a couple phone calls?? That’s it??? One more time: ORGANIZATION. Your organization should have an iron/silver/blessed dungeon with safes to keep people like Maddie in so you can actually help them.
-currently confused why the yellow eyed demon wanted a leader for the demon soldiers if all the demons are just going to fuck right off the second they get out.
-also is there a proximity requirement for crossing salt lines? Or could a demon cross it if they just jumped really high? Because I feel like a beach counts as a salt line, and we know demons can go in planes, so what happens when they fly over a beach??
That’s all for now ❤️
(PS: I love Supernatural for the nostalgia and for the utter chaos that trails it. I just also really love complaining about it)
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yeshens · 2 years
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@aicidos​ ,  continued .
the casino stayed true to its nauseating orbit around mars, and the neon lights hadn’t dulled one bit since she was last here. she locked her spaceship, not without first re-checking her wig—the most she was willing to wear as a disguise—and fixing her collar. the elevator’s journey up to the main room was comically long, and, for some, it increased their sense of anticipation. faye, on the other hand, picked at her gloves, tried to feel her cuticles underneath. she supposed he couldn’t overlook the gesture if it meant she was nervous, and she shook her head at his question,  “  more like my cool, sort of. just knowing the guys i had the displeasure of working for haven’t run out of business pisses me off. ”
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she glanced at the no smoking sign to her left, and just as she was about to disregard it, her hands stopped rummaging her pocket,  “  .  .  .  oi, somehow, i feel responsible that you’re in a place for grown ups like this.  ”  and yet she didn’t sound one bit concerned, for she quickly remembered this is a master thief she was dealing with. not that it made him any older, and it certainly didn’t make her any more responsible, but still.
she thought of ed, briefly, and sighed: jeez, kids these days are hardly even kids.
“  so, to ease my conscience, let’s steal that poker chip as soon as possible. seriously, you’d think they’d stop hiding decrypting programs on those little coins after the last incident here,  ”  all thanks to spike, mind you.  “  but, their predictability just makes this easier for us, right ?  ”  and then, with a gentle ding to punctuate her resolve, the doors opened.
the dingy security rooms housing whatever pathetic excuse for security the casino had scrounged up was a joke to break into,  though kaito supposes he should count himself lucky on time saved.   still,  he’d have preferred a challenge   —   you’d think fooling them once would be enough cause for a security upgrade,  but management seemed to disagree,  having opted to make up their losses by cutting security instead.   this is turning out to be far more boring than kaito anticipated.   he nicks the keycard in no time,  nudging a passed-out guard’s body out of the way before exiting and re-locking the door   —   locking the security detail inside,  this time   —   and heads to the elevator where he was supposed to meet faye.
to meet...   faye...   who shows up in…   a wig…?   it didn’t do much to deter recognition on his part,  though kaito supposes it may suffice in fooling anyone with less experience with disguises than himself.   maybe if he squinted…?   nope,  not even then.   well!   not everyone could have his talent in dressing up,  he supposes,  or there’d be phantom thieves running about everywhere.   maybe he should count himself lucky for this,  too.   they enter the lift,  kaito’s inner monologue continuing to run as he swipes the stolen keycard onto its access panel.
they rise further and further up the tower,  the constant thrum of a crowd humming below them,  its sound growing fainter the higher they went,  and kaito found himself a little wistful for it as they left it behind.   he’d always felt more at home within the masses,  an ideal camouflage for a phantom thief to disappear into with a little smoke for cover,  and without it he felt almost   —   exposed.   times like these,  he’s glad for a disguise :  anything to get out of his own skin.   kaito tugs his worker’s cap lower onto his head,  the shadow of it hooding his eyes,  places his hands in the sweater’s pockets and gets into character.
“   pity,  that.   ”   kaito comments,  the ghost of a leer at the corners of his lips,   “   i wouldn’t let an organization who ruined my life carry on their happy little way,  myself.   but to each their own!   you’ll let me know if you need my help giving them hell if it ever comes to that,  i presume?   it’d be a pleasure to have you owe me a favor,  miss valentine.   ”   he laughs,  then,  punctuating her name with a wink as he steps out of the elevator.   “   hey,  i’d even consider doing it for free!   friends are supposed to help each other out after all,  right?   ”
he leaves the offer of friendship up in the air,  grin smoothening out into a bored face before turning back around and striding toward the management offices,  voice modulated into a deeper deadpan as he slips fully into character,   “   easier’s not really what i was looking for,   ”   he says,   “   but if it isn’t going to be fun anyway,  it might as well be over with quick.   you ready?   ”   it’s just a little funny,  kaito thinks in hindsight,  how she was worried for him.   
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authornina · 3 years
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Dalonte “DALY” Dennis: (TEK)
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***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***
Daly shook his head listening to his sisters go back and forth about dumb shit. It seemed like they always waited until he came around to bring up niggas. He never intruded on their personal lives because he’d instilled enough in them to know what to do and what not to do. He had been on his own with them since he could remember. Daly was only ten years old roaming the streets looking for food to feed them. Life didn’t give him much of a choice to live another way. His mother left everything up to him, so he had to do anything to survive. At first it was just he and TJ, then two more girls came, and his mother literally dropped them off home to him. Daly cared for infants alone being just a baby himself.
They were on their way to the airport to pick up the baby of the three, Erie. She went away to college four years ago and this would be her first time back in Philly since graduating. They visited her a lot, but they were all happy to have her in the same state as them again. He was so proud of Erie for sticking it out and finishing college. At first, she would beg to come home. She even threatened to drop out several times. Daly spoiled Erie the most so during each one of her breakdowns he flew to Atlanta where she attended Spelman to talk her down.
All three of his sisters even being raised by him like straight niggas turned out to be great women despite their foul ass mouths and no-nonsense ass attitudes. People always said how pretty they were until witnessing one of them in action. Daly was a cool brother to have but he sometimes was too hard on himself thinking he could’ve done better with them and their emotions. He didn’t know how to raise children let alone girls but over the years he learned so much about women, more than he actually wanted to know. 
TJ was the oldest and she owned a popular hair salon. She was the wildest and most outspoken. Daly had to bail her out of jail several times, primarily for domestic disputes with her lovers. She was openly bisexual and came out to him when she was sixteen, saying if Daly didn’t accept her for who she was, he could kiss her ass. Of course, no matter what he loved his sister. TJ was five-eight, with tan skin covered by tattoos. She had them everywhere. None of them knew their fathers and Daly assumed she was biracial off her features and TJ didn’t like that. So, the long curly black hair she once had as a girl which made her ambiguity more apparent was shaved off and she chose to wear all types of colorful wigs. She was beautiful either way with her natural hunter green eyes and freckled rosy cheeks. Despite her lifestyle and appearance, TJ went to church a lot. She’d been that way since she was just a child. Always telling Daly she had them all covered on the prayer tip, so they were good. She believed the Lord protected her big brother the many nights he had to go out and do what needed to be done for them. TJ had a huge and loving heart she just didn’t have the patience for bullshit.
Ta’Kia, whom everyone simply called Kia was the calmest when considering the three of them. She didn’t bother anyone unless they bothered her. It was a different story if she knew you though, you wouldn’t be able to shut her ass up. She went to college in state at West Chester where she met her white boyfriend that she stressed out regularly. Kia was also fair skin and four-eleven of feistiness. Daly knew whoever her father was had to be black. She had 4C hair and to him that meant straight nigga. He learned all about the different types of hair black women had over the years. He didn’t assume they couldn’t have loose coils in general, but his sister came from nigga nuts with the shit that sat on top of her head. Kia kept it in all types of natural styles. She was the earthy vegan type. No man-made chemicals could touch her person and she only ate what she grew. She wore very little clothing often, even when it was cold with beads around her waist, lots of rings on her fingers and she had two nose rings and a septum. Daly didn’t know where the hell that aesthetic came from but again, he supported his sisters through whatever.  
Then there was Erieon, Erie for short, Daly’s baby. TJ and Kia didn’t give into her spoiled ass the way he did. If you asked them, their little sister was selfish, stubborn and plain old evil. Erie had a bad attitude, worse than all of three put together and never liked to admit when she was wrong. The only person she didn’t get out the way with was Daly. Erie was the surprise baby and the most beautiful little dark doll he’d ever seen when his mother first dropped her off. He fell in love with her the moment he had to take her on. By then he’d become an expert at caring for infants. Erie stood out because amongst her sisters she shined like chocolate satin. While her sisters rocked baldies and bushes, Erie loved box braids, and any other type of style that hung pass her butt in individuals. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was the most regular physically but personality wise, Daly had a time with that one. Sometimes he thought she had some mental health issues but seeing Lake go through so much and learning what he could, he swore his sister wasn’t that damaged. Couldn’t be. He simply gave her whatever she wanted and hoped it never went further than having temper tantrums.
When Daly was just a child, if it weren’t for Hassan, he and his sisters would be separated and spread out through the system. It was one of the reasons Daly was so loyal to Lake. Hassan made sure they never had to worry about being taken from one another. The house they lived in, he bought it and fixed it up. They had food and clean clothes every day. When his mother would try to come and interrupt the peace they finally had, Hassan made sure she didn’t any longer. Whatever bad shit people had to say about the late Hassan Porter, he and his sisters were blinded by the fact that he was the only adult to give a fuck about them. Even his mother’s sister didn’t offer a helping hand when she knew how they were living. Hassan didn’t ask any questions or want any answers. He saw a problem and fixed it. Never made Daly feel ashamed or embarrassed either.  
Once at the busy airport, they didn’t even have to park to meet Erie inside. She was sitting outside on her luggage with an obvious attitude.
“Here her ass go with the bullshit,” Kia said getting out the car. She hugged her resistant baby sister while Daly kissed her cheek before getting her stuff. TJ didn’t even get out the car because she was the least interested in what had her mean ass mad already. 
“What’s wrong, Erieon?” Daly asked once they were all back in the car. 
“Nothing.” 
“Erie! Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat!” TJ turned around to her sister who was in the back seat now with her arms crossed and face balled up. “You always do that like somebody supposed to know what you thinkin’.” 
“Leave me alone.” 
“Erie, what’s wrong?” Daly asked her in a gentle tone making TJ and Kia roll their eyes.
“The flight was just annoying. I don’t like being around people.” 
“I’m sure people don’t like being around your evil ass either,” TJ said. “I’ma pray for you on Sunday demon.” She held the cross around her neck then pulled out a little bottle and splashed Erie. 
“Don’t put that saltwater on me!” 
“You need Jesus!” 
“TJ, stop,” Kia laughed. “Stay sprinkling people with your lil holy water.” 
“She think cause she got baptized that she still not going to hell,” Erie said, wiping her face. “Newsflash, you eat pussy, that’s a sin!” 
“Yo!” Daly yelled. “I don’t wanna hear that shit. All y’all shut the fuck up!” 
Why did he say that? All hell broke loose. They started shouting obscenities his way and he blew his breath wishing he went alone to begin with. Daly loved his sisters to absolute death, but they were a damn handful. How anybody dated one was beyond him. Man or woman. 
“Wit your big head ass!” TJ mushed him. “Don’t be talkin’ to us like that!” 
“I’m stayin’ with you TJ,” Erie said. They were the two who got along the least, but her sister was the most freeing to be around and let her do anything. Even though she was going on twenty-three, Kia and Daly treated her like a baby.
“Then you better act like you know, I ain’t for the walkin’ around my shit with no attitude! And I don’t clean up after grown muhfuckas.” 
“Why you don’t want your own shit?” Daly asked.
“Because I don’t wanna be alone,” Erie said low. “TJ lays with me when I need her.” 
“I can lay with you,” Daly said.
“You never be home.”
Erie saying that made Daly feel bad. If he wasn’t there often it’s because he couldn’t be and when he wasn’t, they had to take care of each other. They didn’t intentionally make him feel bad about it, they simply were dealt a shitty hand. No mother and their brother couldn’t be around due to the fact that he was the provider. It all affected each of them in different ways. 
“I lay with you too.” 
“Kia, your bed bout as big as this back seat. Then you like to sleep on the floor,” Erie said, and they all started laughing. 
Daly gave his sisters the range to live much more extravagant, but Kia didn’t want to. She liked her open space loft, mattress on the floor, no curtains, plants from wall to windows, three pairs of shoes and garden full of natural foods. TJ wanted to work for her own money, so she started a business. Erie was the only one who happily ran through his pockets like no tomorrow. He was okay with him being their backup plan if they ever needed or wanted it.
“Says the homeless one,” Kia rolled her eyes.
“By choice,” Erie retorted. 
After Daly took his sisters out then dropped them all off, he stopped at his old apartment. His phone was ringing off the hook and the only calls he returned were Lake, Wreck and Roddy. Mansion called him about fifty times. When those went unanswered, the texts started. 
Mansion: I know you with another bitch, since you wanna ignore me for her. Stay there, and don’t call me ever again with your hoe ass! 
Mansion: Bitch ass nigga! You really wanna cheat on me? And I bet she don’t look like shit! 
Mansion: I was fuckin’ somebody else anyway!
Mansion: I’m gettin’ a abortion!
Daly ignored each one. Mansion would say anything to get him to argue with her. At first it was funny, but now, he was a little tired of the constant back and forth. It was childish but that’s what he got for messing with a twenty-one-year-old. 
“What?” he asked, finally answering for her.
“Put your bitch on the phone.” 
“I ain’t wit no bitch.” 
“Right, you a hoe ass liar! Come get me right now.” 
“Fuck no! Go tell the nigga you was fuckin’ to get your crazy ass.” 
“I was just sayin’ that,” Mansion whined. “I love you.”
“Obviously,” Daly responded sarcastically and they both started laughing. “You gotta chill bro.” 
“My anger just get the best of me, you know I would never step out on you.” 
“I’m not comin’ tonight, I got shit to do.” 
“Like what?” 
“Shit.” 
“You lyin’.” 
“When the fuck do I ever have to lie? If I’ma be with another bitch, I would tell you.” 
“See that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, the disrespect! I’m not about to let you play in my face with no ugly ass hoe!” 
“Who ugly, Mansion?” 
“SHADIA!” she screamed, and Daly hollered. His on again off again girlfriend for years grinded Mansion’s gears. “You need to tell that dog face bitch you love me and it’s over.” 
“I told her that.” 
“Then why she still feel comfortable to go around talkin’ about my nigga? Why THE FUCK is she postin’ you on her Instagram?” 
“I don’t know.” 
“You know because you keep givin’ that hoe hope!” 
“Ion give nobody shit,” Daly looked at his phone beeping. “Hold on, I’ma call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response to click over for his sister. “Yea TJ?” 
“Come get Erie before I fuck her up!” 
“What she do that damn fast?” 
“I comes the fuck in my room and her ass changin’ shit around in MY HOUSE!”
“You got it ugly in here!” he heard Erie yell in the back. “Everything don’t gotta be green!” 
“DALONTE!” TJ shouted. “Come get your sister! NOW! Jesus be a high ass fence for Erieon…” she started her prayer for forgiveness then Daly heard a bunch of ruckus. He hung up on everybody tired of dealing with women for one day. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. He got all the bags out of his trunk and went inside the apartment building. 
When he put his key in the door Tracy was standing right there with an attitude. Out of all the bitch fits, he was least interested in hers. He didn’t tell his sisters about their mother staying there and that’s why he moved because it would upset them. TJ mostly. She hated Tracy to no ending. 
“The fuck you standing there for waitin’ like you caught me cheatin’ or something?” 
“Because you leave me in this place, alone! I ain’t got no phone, no communication to the outside world—” 
“Man, fuck outta here,” Daly said, closing the door. “You lucky you got this.”
“I want to see my children, Dalonte!” 
“They don’t wanna see you.” 
Daly’s mother was a rehabilitated crackhead and ex-prostitute. He wouldn’t have offered her a place to stay but she was currently pregnant and had the nerve to tell him she wanted to do right for her baby. 
“Well it ain’t they choice, y’all is muthafuckin’ kids to me! I don’t care what we been through! I am your mother!” 
“You ain’t shit, Tracy.” Daly took all the bags in the kitchen. “Here, all the shit you wanted. Fuckin’ prenatal vitamins,” he threw them at her. “I know your ass ain’t do none of this shit with us! You want my sisters to see this shit?” He started pouring all the stuff out. “You got it in you to finally care about one of your kids.” 
“He is y’all little brother,” Tracy said, palming her stomach with tears in her eyes. Her oldest child hated her so she knew it couldn’t have been any better with the other three but not seeing them for so long hurt her heart. When she came to him, he didn’t even care at first. They owed her nothing and as a mother Tracy wished she could take every ounce of pain she caused them back. 
“I almost said fuck him too,” Daly laughed, and Tracy smiled. Her son loved her; she knew this because he could be really cold when he wanted to be. There had been times she’d been on the other end of it. 
“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you, if I had another option, I would’ve chosen it. I know it’s not easy seeing me like this,” Tracy expressed to her son sincerely. 
“Whatever, I’m out, I gotta go break up a fight between your kids.” 
“Can you at least tell them I miss them?” 
“I’ll think about it.” Daly closed the door in her face. He stood with his back against the door feeling the way he did when he was younger. So many times, she would even watch him struggle with his sisters. Tracy would be home while he was trying to figure out a way to provide for them. Here she was pregnant again with another baby and needed her son all over again. Déjà vu.
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irisofpurple · 3 years
Text
Good Girl
Summary: What happens when Lana comes home to Ethan, fashionably late after a girls night?
Book: Open Heart Book 3 (post ending)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey×f!MC (Lana Stevens)
Word Count: 2k.
Warnings/Rating: Smut, Swearing, NSFW; Explicit.
A/N: This is pure filth and nothing but filth. A self indulgent produce of my very Scorpio brain and the smuttiest fic I've ever written. I'm not exactly sorry but you've been warned jskssjjkkhhssk. It follows up after New Look, which was my first ever Pictagram edit. I suppose you can still read this if you missed that though. Hope you enjoy reading!
This work is NSFW and meant for 18+ readers only. Please use discretion.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.
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A rush of giddy excitement hit her as she turned the keys to his apartment, making her stumble slightly at the doorstep as she entered.
Alcohol from the countless shots Jackie made them do was still hot and pumping through her veins. In her drunken haze, Sienna had actually convinced her to keep the wig on.
She adjusted it slightly before she realised she'd stepped into pin drop silence, the moonlight streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows the only source of light cutting through the darkness.
A quick glance at her watch told her it was 2:30 AM. Way past Ethan's bedtime.
Her stomach dropped. The girls night had went on longer than she'd anticipated. They'd gotten a bit carried away between gossiping and drinking to new beginnings. It had been a while since they'd had a relaxing night as this after all.
As fun as that was, what Lana was really looking forward to tonight was seeing Ethan. All that teasing had made her as hot as she'd hoped to have made him. She wanted to leave right then but it wouldn't have been fair to her friends.
Her shoulders slumped. It was no use now.
She turned head into the bedroom, the knowledge that she'd find him peacefully asleep making her heart sink a little.
"You're late."
The familiar rumble of his voice echoed through the room, making her gasp in surprise and turn back around.
There he was. Sitting at the bar with a glass of scotch nestled in his hand.
Her heart jumped in her throat, a fresh surge of adrenaline coursing through her, renewing her excitement even more than before.
The contrasting shadows and moonlight highlighted his already sharp jawline, making him look more beautiful than ever.
Slowly, he rose from his seat, drawing nearer to her, his dark predatory gaze never leaving her. She wasn't able to look away either, her belly clenching with anticipation with every step he took.
She shivered as he ran his fingers though the red hair, his blue eyes going the deepest shade of sapphire possible.
"You're still wearing it, I see." he muttered darkly, a dangerous edge to his voice.
A slow smirk spread across her face. She knew no joy like seeing Ethan Ramsey tethering on the edge in a struggle for control.
And she'd make sure he fell over tonight.
"I thought you'd fallen asleep." she said, feigning nonchalance, pointedly ignoring his observation.
In a sudden movement, he pulled her hand by the wrist to the front of his pants, making her feel his hardness though the fabric.
"Do you know how hard it is to sleep like this?" He said through gritted teeth.
Lana was unfazed. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as she stared right back into those celestial blues.
"I can only imagine." She murmured huskily as her fingers caressed him ever so slightly, confidence oozing through her as he twitched violently at her touch.
He pulled her hand away and onto his chest, having realized that his move had backfired.
"You made me wait." He accused, his rebellious gaze dropping to her lips.
"I think I know exactly how to make up for it." Lana said with coquettish smirk.
She captured his lips soon after, not letting him a chance to say anything more. Her hands travelled down to palm his bulge once more, making him groan against her lips. Tongues tangled in a desperate battle for dominance, their need for each other assuming more importance than air for a few breathless moments.
Lana pushed him onto the couch, looking down at him with a devilish smile as she pulled off her wig, shaking free her natural blonde curls. They fell around her shoulders gracefully as Ethan watched her with an awestruck look on his face, all traces of resistance gone. She took off her top next, taking delight in his sharp intake of breath as her breasts spilled free before his reverent eyes, following to straddle his lap and continue kissing him with abandon.
Her lips trailed down the corded muscles of his neck, sucking and biting as she goes. Ethan's hands meanwhile were firmly gripping her waist, another one inching underneath her skirt, closer and closer to her soaked core.
But she wouldn't let him get there. Not yet.
His shirt flew across the living room in a matter of seconds and then she on her knees before him, her lips having left a wet trail of kisses all over his chest and abs.
She unbuckled his belt with deft fingers, pulling down the redundant material of his trousers. His cock sprung free, jutting out in all it's glory, demanding immediate attention.
Her delicate fingers gripped him firmly, pumping him a few times torturously.
"Lana.." Ethan groaned helplessly.
She gave him a smile that she knew he found devastating.
"Feel free to pull my hair." she said as she moved to give a long luscious lick along his length.
Her blood red lips were wrapped around his cock the next second, causing Ethan's hips to buck up involuntarily. His fingers tangled in her hair, making her hum around him in satisfaction.
She was on her knees but the one surrendering was Ethan, completely at her mercy. That knowledge was as beholding as it was empowering.
She sank down the length of him, hollowing out her cheeks, relishing every grunt and moan that escaped his throat as she took him deeper into her own.
She repeated the motion, working him up, not letting the involuntary gags or tears brimming in her eyes stop her from taking him where she wanted.
Keeping eye contact, she realised him with a dizzying pop only to suck on his heavy balls till they were as wet as his now glistening cock.
The look of sheer adoration mixed with lust and frustration on his face had to the hottest thing she'd ever witnessed. It made her own folds drip with arousal.
Her tongue flicked across the slit of his tip, before her warm mouth engulfed him once more to bob down his steely length with determination, taking him all the way in.
"Sweetheart, you're going to make me.. FUCKK!"
His grip on her hair tightened, almost to the point of pain. It only served to excite her more. She didn't let up till he emptied himself down her throat, cursing as he shook and came like never before.
She licked him clean, not leaving a single drop.
She felt breathless and a little punch drunk as he pulled her up and into his arms, kissing her tenderly, softly caressing her cheek and wiping away the tears.
He pulled back to look at her, concern etching his handsome face. "Are you okay?"
She laughed. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
He seemed satisfied with her answer because the look of worry gave way to a roguish smirk.
"Just needed to be sure cause I'm not done with you yet."
"Wha-"
"Shhh." He silenced her with his fingers. "You had your way with me, didn't you? Now it's my turn."
"But.." her query died in a moan as Ethan's fingers found her dripping core.
"Damn." He hissed. "How are you already so wet?"
Lana was in no shape to answer because his thumb was working her clit in maddening circles, excruciating pleasure rippling through her as two fingers curled into her slick passage.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as his skillful fingers moved over her with precision and expertise, over and over again. Just when she was about to reach her peak however, he ceased all movements.
Lana cried out in disappointment from the sudden loss of sensations.
"What are you doing?" she hissed at him in frustration.
Ethan only smiled. "You didn't think I'd let you get away with all that teasing so fast, did you?"
"What do you-"
"Hush, my darling. I said it was my turn. You made me wait for you all evening. Now close your eyes."
"But-"
"No arguments." He said firmly.
Lana hesitantly shut her eyes, the ache between her legs getting unbearable with each passing second.
"Good girl." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Don't move an inch and keep your eyes shut. I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?" she cried. "You can't leave me like this."
"Don't you trust me, my love?" He chastened.
Lana gulped. "I do but.."
"No buts then. I promise I'll make it worth your while but no cheating or this ends here."
"No!" Lana shook her head. "I'll do as you say."
"That's my girl."
She heard his footsteps fade away as she struggled to stay still. She was tempted to take a peek and more anything else, touch herself and soothe the throb between her legs. She could get off so easily right now.
But she didn't dare disobey. The wait and build up made her wetter and more turned on than she'd ever been.
Her breath came in shallow pants as she waited and by the time he was back, she felt like one touch would be enough to make her explode.
He secured a silky fabric across her eyes and she heard a low click of glass on the surface of the table.
What the hell was that?
Her heart pounded in her chest and her sex clenched in anticipation.
"Hands above your head and don't move. Or I'll have to tie you up."
She nodded eagerly, following his instructions. "Please Ethan."
He chuckled. "Patience, my love. If there's anything I learnt tonight, it's that waiting makes everything better."
She gasped as she felt his lips on her inner thighs, his beard deliciously scraping her skin as he kissed her everywhere but where she needed him most. It was too much but not enough.
His fingers hooked around the lace of her panties. "As pretty as these are, they have to go."
A loud rip followed, tearing through the room and informing her that her panties were definitely in shreds.
"That was.." she choked out, almost in alarm, unable to finish her sentence. But Ethan seemed to understand her concern.
"I'll buy you more." He grunted.
She felt warm liquid slosh onto her chest, flowing down slowly between the valley of her breasts and down her belly, making her entire body tingle.
Her back arched as the flow inched closer to her pulsing core. She moaned out loud as it finally reached it's destination, suddenly cooling her hot sex.
Ethan's mouth closed on her clit before she could process what was going on.
"Ethannn" She cried out.
She didn't recognize the feline noises escaping her, gasping and moaning for her life as she climbed higher and higher with each masterful stroke of his tongue.
"God. I thought scotch was best had neat. I was wrong. So wrong." He muttered against her sex.
The low rumble vibrated through her body and as soon as his fingers joined the ministrations of his mouth, Lana catapulted over the edge, fireworks exploding behind her eyes and blinding her with hot white pleasure as she came all over his face harder than ever. He didn't stop till all the aftershocks rocking her subsided, letting her ride out her orgasm.
He removed her blindfold and pulled her into his arms, gently kissing the top of her head as she hugged him feebly.
As she caught her breath, her eyes landed on the expensive half empty bottle of scotch and she laughed. "Scotch and sex? Who would've thought?"
Ethan chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. "Me apparently. How did it feel?"
She buried her face in his chest, feeling her face heat. "You know how I felt. I was pretty vocal about it."
Low masculine laughter rumbled through his chest making her heart squeeze and sex clench, like she didn't just have the best orgasm of her life.
She wasn't embarrassed though because she could feel his rock hard errection against her thigh.
She looked up at him mischievously. "Are we ready for a round two?"
She yelped as he lifted her, her thighs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to their bedroom.
"Always."
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Whew! I hope you enjoyed reading that. As usual, I'd love to know what you think. Please forgive the mistakes if there are any. I couldn't proofread due to shortage of time.
Tags: @lem-20 @pixie88 @aleynareads @maurine07 @whimsicallywayward15 @lovingramsey @coffeeheartaddict @txemrn @shewillreadyou @aussieez @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @schnitzelbutterfingers @imaneditorthankyouverymuch @mercury84choices @thegreentwin @adiehardfan @custaroonie @headoverheelsforramsey @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations
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angelictrl · 3 years
Note
heyhey! for the plant asks could you write clover, daisy, and honeysuckle for mahiru and celeste
geez, i dunno why this took me forever to write, but it was still fun nonetheless ! celestia's under the cut after mahiru (honeysuckle for her got pretty long bc im a simp </3) :)
MAHIRU KOIZUMI
🌻 clover ;; what type of gifts do they like to get their s/o ?
this is probably a pretty common thing everyone would agree on, but she'd give you polaroids and show you pictures she took of you either previously or currently !
this strawberry shortcake lookalike would make scrap albums and give it to you as a gift on your birthday and/or anniversary.
she'd even make a collage of all the pictures she's taken on your dates or even just your domestic lifestyle together to relive the nostalgia and peacefulness of those moments.
regardless, photos are strewn and hung up everywhere, whether that be clipped against fairy lights on your wall, on your desk in an actual picture frame, hung up in a collage, pinned on the fridge, or simply displayed in an album on a bookshelf - there's always at least one picture showcased of you two <3
however, just because she's the ultimate photographer, doesn't mean all she gives you is photos !
she travels a lot because, well, people would like her to hire her to take pictures with how clean and clear her shots are, so she explores lots of places pretty often - even if she doesn't talk about it much.
on those trips, she'll pick up souvenirs or items that you've requested or remind her of you, and she'll present it to you first thing when she gets back. she'll be all excited to show you and warmly smile before getting just as red as her hair when you thank her.
🌻 daisy ;; what is their love language, both giving and receiving ?
in all honesty, i think she switches between all five love languages pretty often. if i had to rank it from most commonly expressed to least, though, it'd have to be words of affirmation, acts of service, gift giving/quality time (in a tie), and physical touch.
she doesn't mind her partner's love language at all - as long as they're also somewhat keen with words of affirmation.
i don't think she's too picky with physical touch. she enjoys it, yes, but more so privately. and even then, it's not something she really needs in a relationship, so she wouldn't constantly ask her partner for physical touch unless they're clingy.
though, she does love to hold hands with her s/o a lot <3
🌻 honeysuckle ;; if their s/o was hurt, what would they do ?
mama bear mode activated.
but like, no, literally, she has a big temper and will get really overprotective of you - especially if someone else caused intentionally wanted to harm you and was the cause of your injury.
she wouldn't hesitate to snap at their ass and get all up in their face. she'd roast the fuck out of them and honestly probably leave them a sobbing mess, ngl - at least, internally HRKEJEJ
especially if it was a guy, she'd show no mercy ... "what the hell is wrong with you, picking on my s/o ?! you sure have some balls doing so, but when i'm through with you, you sure as hell won't !"
yeah ... thanks, mahiru <3 /gen /lh
regardless if you're left bedridden or not, she'd be at your every beck and call. she'd be so soft with you and would get so cuddly.
you want her to hold you and distract you from the pain ? she's on it, stroking your hair as she whispers sweet nothings to you. you just want to hear her voice ? she'll talk about the history behind your favorite photos she's taken. you're freezing cold ? she's already asking you how many blankets you want while tucking you in, a heating pad heating up right then and there all for you.
she can be a bit of a worrywart though, so as much as she reassures you that you're going to be okay, she also needs some reassurance from you too - especially if your condition begins to deteriorate. being positive all the time can be pretty hard and exhausting :(
CELESTIA LUDENBURG
🌻 clover ;; what type of gifts do they like to get their s/o?
celestia doesn't gives gifts often, but when she does, it's mostly expensive items. she loves to spoil you - after all, you're the only one who deserves to rule beside her in her eyes.
when she's away at a gambling tournament, if her opponent has something that reminds her of you, she'll find a way to get it from them whether that be by making them bet on it or intimidating them.
she may be dainty, but when it comes to you or gambling, she won't hesitate to stoop to the lowest levels. anywho, she'll come home all smug but mask it with her elegant facade.
"ah, darling, it's nice to see you after such an exhilarating day. here, i picked this up for you while i was away. it reminded me of you quite a lot/i remember you saying you adored this item. where and how did i get this ... ? hmm ... are you sure you'd like to know, my love ?"
she'd prepare some tea for you two and set down her cup after drinking with a smirk, proudly telling you how she made someone go bankrupt again LMAO DJSKDJ
she's may be a menace to society and peoples' wallets, but we still love her all the same </3
🌻 daisy ;; what is their love language, both giving and receiving ?
giving, celestia's love languages are quality time, words of affirmation, gift giving, and acts of service (occasionally and surprisingly) in that order.
recieving she doesn't mind any, but acts of service and words of affirmation are very appreciated by her and don't go unnoticed.
she'll praise and thank you but state that you aren't a servant for her with acts of service, but instead an equal. after all, being her s/o means that she actually grew to respect you enough to take a liking to you.
she appreciates you being so kind to do things for her, really - she likes to be treated like a princess - but being in a relationship with her would mostly be a longterm relationship. she'll actually open up to you, so she doesn't want you to think she's only using you. privately, she has no problem doing things for you.
🌻 honeysuckle ;; if their s/o was hurt, what would they do ?
oh, boy. you thought mahiru was scary ? everyone's gonna piss themselves when celestia gets word that you hurt yourself. especially if someone else hurt you.
"WHAT ?! what the hell do you mean s/o got hurt ?! WELL ?! what are you blubbering idiots doing standing around gawking at them for ?! either do something to be useful or move out of my way so i can do something, you cantankerous plebeians !"
she'd snap at anyone and everyone who dares to defy her or hesitates for even a second to do something until you're finally safe and healthy.
internally, she's panicking and the only way she knows how to express her desperation for you to survive is to snap orders at everyone to help out or do something.
she's just really scared since she's never cared for someone so much in her life. she loves and trusts you enough to be herself around you.
to show you her true personality, to show you her true looks, to tell you and let you call her her real name, to let down her fake accent with you - she just learned to open up to you in general.
she'd help you with everything and anything you need after you're finally resting and in good hands. you'd catch a rare sight of celestia being domestic.
as you stumble into the kitchen to find out what that good smell is early in the morning, you'd catch celestia wearing a cute little dark and lacy vintage apron without her wig/extensions or makeup, swaying her hips happily as she cooks breakfast for you two and quietly sings along to some good classics.
her playlist is honestly random, so one minute she could be humming or singing along to songs like sudno by molchat doma, jealous by eyedress, verbatim, hayloft, or oh ana by mother mother, and the next she'd be spitting raps so fast that even eminem can't keep up with her.
she'd finally notice you while she's catching her breath after rapping, a blush visibly painting her milky white skin.
"aha - um - dear, i didn't notice you were up already ... did you hurt yourself on your way over here ?"
she'd completely change the subject LMAO DJSKJD
but even so, the best medicine you got that morning was celestia's singing in her normal voice as she allowed you to backhug her while she finished cooking breakfast for you two <3
danganronpa masterlist.
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mudhornchronicles · 3 years
Text
strategies | javier pena
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pairing: javier peña x reader
warnings: mentions of sex, cursing, guns, violence… narcos.
request by: @danniburgh
masterlist
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You sit in the backseat, adjusting your tactical vest, as Steve and Javier sit in the front seat. You are currently on your way to a 1am stakeout about 45 minutes out of the main streets of Medellín, trying to collect intel on an halcón, a falcon, for Escobar. You had freshly brewed coffee in hand from that twenty-four-hour bakery you and Javier went to every time you had to stay in the office late and a basic maple donut in the other. You liked adding hazelnut flavored creamer and so did Steve, but Javier liked his coffee black and boring. No matter where he was and what he was doing, he was happy with a sugar donut, his dark roast and you by his side.
“So, here’s the plan,” Steve begins. He adjusts the rear-view mirror to get a good look at you. “Martín is known to be at this club every Friday night. We are going to sit here and wait for him to leave. We’ll follow the car, and we’ll call in for backup.” Steve glances at Javier and furrows his eyebrow. He points at Javier and says, “I mean it, Peña. We quietly stay in this car and just follow. I don’t need a shootout… again.” He looks at you from the mirror and smiles. “And thank you for the coffee.”
Javier rolls his eyes at Steve and turns to look at you. “Amor, tell Murphy that I am perfectly capable of staying in this car.” You lean forward and plant a kiss on your boyfriend’s lips, his mustache tickling your upper lip as always.
“Stephen, my boyfriend Javier is not capable of staying in this car and we should tie him to his seat before he lay his eyes on this guy.” You laugh and Steve laugh as Javier frowns and starts poking your side. “I’m kidding, Javi. You know I trust you with my life, my vida. Except with criminals who will be walking right in front of you.” Javier playfully rolls his eyes at you and mutters a “pinche mentirosa.”
fucking liar.
You drive another 10 minutes and park on the east side of the building, spotting Martín’s car. Steve secretly looks at you through the mirror and gives you a quick wink, you giving a nod in return. You all wait for what feels like an eternity. Javier’s jaw tightens a bit more as time goes on while Steve begins to get anxious. Steve knows this is a terrible idea and he knows just how much Javier is going to hate him and might even kill him. He lets out a breath and Javier snaps his head back at his partner.
“Alright Steve spill it. What the fuck is going on with you? You’re sweating and you’re breathing hard and it’s making me uncomfortable. The only time I get like that is when I’m fucking my girl, so… what the fuck.”
You immediately step in to defend your friend. “Javier! Steve is just nervous leave him alone.” As Javier tries to argue Steve spots your guy walking out of the club and over to his car. Before Javier can let out a yell, Steve handcuffs on Javier’s wrist to steering wheel and says, “Go ‘head smoke show. Bring his ass in.” You lean forward and give Javier a kiss on the cheek, pulling off our jacket revealing your provocative outfit underneath. You slip on your heels as Javier slaps Steve to uncuff him.
You get out of the car and it was at that moment that Javi felt his pants tighten and wished Steve want in the car. There you were wearing a skirt that came up just at the swell of your ass and a tank top that only accentuated your breasts. Javi should have known something was going to happen when you put on a wig, a completely different color than your hair, for fun. There have been countless times where the DEA had asked you to do undercover stuff and you always declined because you have seen these missions go terribly wrong. Javier never saw it coming.
He saw you walk towards the entrance and as you walked past your guy, he whistled you back towards him. He ushered his bodyguard away as he pressed you up against his car. Javier almost punched Steve when he saw you wiggle you ass into Martín’s clearly hard cock. You abruptly turned around and put your arms around Martín’s shoulders with the smile you give Javier after being fucked for 4 hours straight. You lean in and whisper something to Martín. It was probably a promise of sex with the idiot smile he had on his dumb ugly face, Javier thought. Javier kept adjusting himself as Steve laughed and placed an earphone into Javier’s ear, listening to you speak.
“Sabia que estabas aqui… Rocio me dijo que eras su mejor cliente.”
I knew you’d be here… Rocio told you that you’re her best client.”
“Si? Y que mas te dijo, hermosura?”
Yeah? And what else she tell you, beautiful?
“Tambien me dijo que te gustan tener dos mujeres la misma vez.”
She also told me that you like to have two girls at the same time.
Javier couldn’t help but think back to conversations the two of you had about have a threesome with another girl. You brought up having a second man and having Javi and him fill you up, and to your surprise, Javi agreed but he wants to test out a girl first. Your relationship with Javier wasn’t always about sex, he was quite the romantic. From fancy dinners on rooftops to street tacos on the couch, Javier always made you feel loved… but the sex was always great. And with great sex comes constant thoughts about having each other everywhere and anywhere – Javi’s current issue.
“Que, mi reina. Quieres que te haga sentir rico? Tienes una amiguita que se te antoja?”
What, my queen. You want me to make you feel good? You got a little friend you’re craving?
You give him a nod and think back to Javier… what a shock that’d be.
“Si… tengo a alguien en el carro que te quiere conocer. Te va a sorprender.”
Yeah… I have someone in the car who wants to meet you. They’ll surprise you.
Upon hearing the code, Javier and Steve smirk. “They’ll surprise you” has always been the call for backup.  Steve immediately let Javier go and both go out of the car. Steve hops in the back and sits with the back of his head facing the window. Javier hides behind the car and blends into the shadows. As you walk up with Martín’s arm around your shoulders, you smile to yourself seeing them in position.
“Te presento,” you say as you open the backseat, “a Estephania.”
I present you to Stephanie.
Steve turns and smiles at Martín. Steve offers him a wave and Martín lets out a laugh. He puts his hands up in surrender and turns. Before Javi can even spring into action, you land a quick right hand on Martín’s jaw. Martín holds his jaw and lunge forward but isn’t quick enough. You immediately wrap his arm in yours, maneuver it behind him and push it upwards to dislocate his shoulder. You had to give it to him, Martín wasn’t a quitter. With a dislocated shoulder and all, he remained up on his feet an that didn’t sit right with you. You use his weight against him as you jump and straddle yourself on his shoulders.
Javi can’t seem to stop staring at the way your dress hitches higher and higher until it reaches your hips. You were thankful you were wearing cheeky underwear of your hoohah would’ve been out by now. The more you struggle with Martín trying to shake you off, the more Javi felt the absolute need to just rip those panties off you and take you on the hood of Steve’s car. He seems to be caught in a trance because she realizes just how much danger you’re in when Steve slaps the back of his head.
“Javi! What the hell is wrong with you! Stop thinking about fucking her for once and focus!”
Javi runs to Martín and tries to pry you off but you aren’t letting go as you continuously kick Martín in the sternum. Javi has enough and kicks Martín in the balls, dropping him to the floor and in turn, letting you off.
He tries to take deep breaths and looks up trying to look at you, but he’s met with a smiling Javier holding up his badge and holding him at gunpoint.
“Martín! Que raro que nos encontramos aqui, no? Ya te crees toro?”
Martin! How weird that we ran into each other here, no? You think you’re a bull now?
Martín mutter a curse and lets his head fall. Javi almost runs to smooth your dress down and pulls it the lowest it could possibly go before it sprang right back up. Martín allows himself to be put in the back with Steve and repeatedly states in a shaky voice that he isn’t talking to the cops. You tell him to keep thinking that and go to walk into the passenger seat as Javier stops you by the arm. You look at him shocked and smirk at the sight of his pained face.
“You see this?” he points to his hard cock and you smirk up him as you nod. “Once we drop his ass off, you’re putting that pretty little mouth to work. That may have been badass, but you talk a big game. Can you back it up?”
You give him a playful shove. You begin to walk away and right before you get in the car, you turn back and say, “Tread lightly, Javi, or you won’t be seeing this outfit anymore.” You wait to open the door until Javier is at the driver’s door. “Oh and Javi?”
Javier looks at you and gives you a stern look. “What?”
“I didn’t know your face got so red at seeing me on top another man. I can’t wait to see your face when another man is fuc- ”
“Get your ass in the car.”
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vaguely-concerned · 3 years
Text
TF x Graves, 2500 words, complete and utter fluff
Stifling another yawn against the back of my hand I glance over at the window, which shows only the flat dark of a moonless night outside, before turning my eyes back to the line of T.F.’s naked back.
I’m already undressed and perched on the side of the bed, watching as T.F. is still in the middle of his nightly ritual of hanging or folding his fine clothes up all properly and neatly, lest they, I don’t know, unduly crease somewhere they ain’t meant to or somethin’. Listen, I keep my clothes in a pile on the floor by the side of the bed, right next to the shotgun, both within easy reach in the case of a middle-of-the-night emergency skipping of town. Our priorities in these matters don’t really intersect much, but to each his own and so on.
I don’t know why I’m waiting for him to come to bed to lie down myself, exactly — my eyes are already making a spirited attempt at staying shut on me whenever I blink, I’m pretty sure I’d be out and snoring in about three seconds once I got settled — but my skin has that thin restless thrum all through it that I know from experience won’t be satisfied until he’s settled into place against me and besides, the view is nothin’ to sneeze at in the meantime. He stands there shirtless, belt unbuckled and hanging loose around his narrow hips, though the fastenings of his trousers are still done up. In the light of the oil lamp across the room he’s in a rare state of relaxed unselfconscious disarray, his hair grown out long enough again that it spills over his shoulders and down his back while he fastidiously fastens the cufflinks back into place on the empty shirt so they’ll be easy to find in the morning. As he finishes up with the cufflinks he sings to himself under his breath, a good-natured jaunty little tune I vaguely remember the Brick would sometimes break out once you got a couple of drinks in him.
The hum under my skin grows higher and keener.
Stretching an arm out I hook my fingers into one of his belt loops and gently pull him in by it towards the side of the bed, until he’s standing between my legs. It prompts a half-bemused noise from him, but he goes along easily — when I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my forehead against his belly he seems to catch on, though, a sound of amusement vibrating through his chest.
He slides his hand to the back of my neck, twining his fingers into the short hair there, thumb trailing back and forth along the hairline.
T.F.’s too damned scrawny to have much in the way of padding anywhere, but there’s the warm body softness to him here nevertheless, the sweet yield and shift of a living thing whose pliancy belies the supple strength beneath. I rest my cheek against the flat of his stomach and sigh, moving my hand at the small of his back in slow caressing circles.
“Come to bed already,” I murmur, too sleep-softened along the edges to worry overmuch about makin’ sense.
He chuckles, fingers stroking through my hair. “Well, I was on my way, but then I was waylaid by some deplorable fellow in the process. Hell of a thing.”
I grin and turn my face up to him, so that my chin is resting against his belly and my lips brush his skin when I talk. “Huh. Sounds like a real shady character. You want a trustworthy sorta guy to escort you safely the rest of the way?”
“With such dangerous reprobates skulking around in the area, that’s probably for the best,” T.F. nods somberly, fond amusement deepening his voice. He runs his thumb down the bridge of my nose. “Could I afford to hire the services of a strapping upstanding gentleman like yourself, though?”
I make a nonchalant sound in my nose, squeezing him closer against me for a moment. “Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, this one’s on the house.”
His thumb drifts down to rest at the upturned corner of my mouth as he grins back at me. “Hey, looks like it’s my lucky day.”
I kiss his stomach and lean back enough so I can start in on the fastenings of his trousers — not with any sort of heat behind it, there’s no hint of sex in the air, but in a weird way this is equally satisfying, the everyday-textured contentment of being close without any particular purpose, being the one to slowly render him naked in front of me for no other reason than that he lets me, his hands still smoothing patiently through my hair while I work.
Once I’ve got all the buttons sorted I run my thumb along the sharp edge of his hip bone until I can tuck it into the waist of his trousers and use it to tug them down. We get them about half-way down his thighs like that before we have to pause for him to shimmy out of them the rest of the way on his own, his hand resting on my shoulder for balance as he does the traditional one-legged hop to extricate his foot. Serves him right for only ever wearing pants that might as well have been painted onto him. I mean, not that I’m complainin’, mind.
“Whoa!” he says, laughing as he almost overbalances at the last hurdle, but my hand shoots out to steady him by the hip before too much disaster can be wrought. “Well, not the smoothest strip tease I’ve ever pulled off, sorry about the inconvenience.”
I nose at the newly revealed crease of his hip over the edge of his underwear. “Eh, that’s okay, if I actually wanted a proper show I’d just suggest a round of strip poker again and sit back and watch while you lose.”
“Oh, that’s a strange yet beautiful dream world you’ve made up for yourself there, Malcolm. It’s touching, really, the things the mind will do to protect itself from the truth. Positively — aah!”
T.F. jumps as I draw some of the skin of his hip between my lips and use them to nip sharply at it. His startled yelp turns into a snigger as I let go, possibly ruining the castigating effects somewhat when I brush my lips soothingly over that spot right after.
“Let that be a lesson to ya,” I say sternly.
“A lesson on what, that your mom was apparently half turtle?”
I grunt, still trailing soft kisses over his skin. “That judge in Piltover was right back then, you are an incorrigible menace to all decent and right-thinking people everywhere.”
“First of all, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Malcolm, thank you. Two, including yourself among the ‘decent and right-thinking’ feels like the invention of some fresh new form of fraud by way of imposture unfolding before my eyes, and it’s an honour. And third, that seems to me to be some very selective memory you have there, considering His Honour Judge Highton had some even more colourful words for you after you blew up the entire north wall of the court building breakin’ me out.”
“He might’ve been given to wearing a damn silly mop on his head, but you couldn’t fault him on his vocabulary,” I concede. Before that whole incident I’d honestly thought the wigs were some sort of practical joke the Pilties would play on gullible outsiders, but as it turns out no, if you get sent to jail in the twin cities they add the indignity of makin’ someone wearing a dead badger on their head break the bad news to you. It’s a strange ol’ world out there, alright. In Bilgewater, where people are much more sensible, the justice system basically boils down to the bounty board, or — if you’ve really managed to make a nuisance of yourself — a bunch of captains may call a temporary ceasefire with each other and go get your ass together. I’ve found that the risk of getting on the bad end of an unfair trial is about the same in both places, though of course the Bilgewater one tends to be harder to come back from if carried out to its fullest. I consider myself a bit of an expert in these things.
T.F. makes a thoughtful sound. “To be fair I don’t think anyone had ever given him cause or inspiration for profanity like you did.”
“Aw. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He leans down and kisses the top of my head before he straightens for long enough to work his second foot free as well, standing there in just the sleek silky underpants he somehow seems to have an endless fresh supply of wherever we go. (My money’s on some sinister underground ring of lingerie-oriented tailors across south-eastern Valoran, for the record; when it comes to secret societies the Noxians just can’t help themselves.)
“I do my best. Hang on just one moment, I’ll be right back,” he says and ruffles my hair before he turns around, which I would complain about except that the view is, as previously mentioned, impeccable, and I’m sleepy enough to be magnanimous.
After meticulously folding his trousers and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, T.F. moves over to the table across the room and extinguishes the oil lamp, then whistles under his breath as he produces a card from somewhere — he does this, seemingly from thin air and no matter how little he’s wearing; I prefer not to speculate too much about how, exactly — and lets a little magic into it so it gives off a low glow, only enough to light his way the short walk back across the room, ‘cause in T.F.’s world the stubbing of toes and smacking of shins against unexpected furniture in the dark is somethin’ that happens to other people. That probably says some things about him I’m not ready to go puzzlin’ out at this time of night, and that he wouldn’t want to have anyone go puzzlin’ about too hard in the first place anyway.
When I hold out my hand for him in the dark he smiles and takes it, twining our fingers together, and I use the hold to tug him in and deposit him, in a neat controlled wrestler’s roll held close against me as I lay down, to his side of the bed. He laughs again at that, a surprised delighted sound that edges dangerously close to a giggle but hey, I ain’t no snitch, so who’s gonna testify against him, huh?
The card ends up on the far side of his pillow after the tumble, still giving off a glow, enough to illuminate the bed and lend the shadows around it some warmth. It makes the bed seem a small cozy island, the rest of the world rendered a not-unfriendly ocean of darkness around it.
T.F. looks at me like the world’s most contented castaway, bourgeoning crow’s feet punctuating his smile on either side and fingers still linked with mine. His hair is mussed from the meandering fall onto the bed. If I were only fractionally less about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep, my body might start to get ideas about it. Well, tomorrow is always another day.
With the back of my free hand I brush some of his hair away from his brow, and he cranes into it like a well-pleased cat. Even with the blankets tangled around our feet and the not-quite-right positions we’ve ended up in, having tumbled into place rather than settled ourselves with purpose, everything feels warm and loose and comfortable, like I could fall asleep like this even with the decidedly odd angle my arm is at.
As if sensing that the drowsiness is about to claim me for real, T.F. brings our linked hands up to his face so he can press his lips to my scarred knuckles before he lets go, then reaches to pull the covers over us, taking a moment to tuck the blanket around my shoulder properly before snuggling under it himself, hooking his leg over my thigh as he settles into place. I shift until we fit together, the familiarity of how to rest against each other just right comfortable like an old and well-loved piece of clothing. On a sigh he rests our foreheads together, craning forward the tiny amount needed to brush our mouths together and humming contentedly when I meet him there. It’s a slow kiss, but it lingers, a dry sweet press of lips like one last spark sending the day off down into the gently drifting murk of sleep that’s about to claim me for a few hours.
When it ends — I don’t think either of us was really the first to pull back, at some point the kiss simply, in the way of snowflakes on tongues, melted into something different and less defined with the warmth — there’s a moment when my eyes can still fight against slipping shut. It’s weird, the way you can look at someone every day for years and still not feel like you’ve had your fill. T.F.’s sharp narrow face, his high pointy little cheekbones and mouth still curved with a smile as he watches me back — there’s something to knowing I’m gonna see all that again tomorrow morning that all the damn money on Runeterra couldn’t get you. And take it from me, from what I’ve seen of the world there ain’t a lot of things in this life enough money won’t buy. Stumbling across one of them long before we even knew what we had, by a stroke of little more’n dumb fucking luck… sometimes it feels like the biggest heist we ever pulled.
“Hey, Tobias?” I say, brushing the tip of my nose against his as my eyelids finally give up both the battle and the war and slide closed.
“Hmmm?” he says, cheerfully drowsy as well.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I murmur, because I can’t think of any damn happier thing in the world to say to him.
He wraps his arms around me, his hand stroking meanderingly up and down the scar-crossed span of my back, fingers trailing over my skin with the perfect amount of firmness because he’s taken the time to learn exactly how much pressure it takes to make it comforting. As sleep starts pulling me under to calmer depths I tuck my head under his chin, so my face is pressed to the line of his throat and to his chest. He smells so nice, all warmly real and well-known like my own breathing.
“Tomorrow,” he agrees on a yawn, nuzzling at the top of my head and tightening his arms around me, just for a moment.
I've been trying to write stuff -- literally just anything, no matter how meandering and nonsensical -- to try to break out of a writer's block; it's not really working so far but at least I've got SOMETHING tangible to show for it at the end of the day, so, you know, uh... partial success I guess?? haha
The idea of T.F. having a judge somewhere out there who considers him the One True Nemesis of his career, J. Jonah Jameson style, even though T.F. barely even remembers his name, came from a wonderful conversation with @inversway, and the idea makes me laugh so hard every time I think about it.
ETA: Also put this on AO3, so I have somewhere to put these ficlets that isn't just tumblr! I'm grimly clinging on to this blue hellsite like a obstinate barnacle to the hull of the Titanic, but I do realize it's not the best place to archive uh anything lol
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purebarnes · 3 years
Text
courage to change— (fem!avenger x bucky!)
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ➢ bucky, sam, y/n and zemo make it to madripoor but only to get stuck in a sticky situation when selby gets shot making it seem like it was them.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ➢ 2.2k 
ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀꜱ ➢ angst, memories(flashbacks), violence
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋꜱ ! ➢ this took a little longer to write. sorry for the wait!
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the four of them gone through the plane ride without barking at one of each other. they had made it madripoor where zemo was telling that it was a way to find out who was making the super soldier serum. when they did make it, zemo made y/n disguise herself as someone completely because they might of caught on who she really was.
she wore a different colored wig with a tight top that made her uncomfortable since it was was very pressed onto her body. she didn’t want to go through it but sam told her that it was fine and to at least trust him, easier said then done. she kept pulling up her shirt and shifting herself up when she was told to knock it off by zemo.
she scoffed looking at zemo before firing back at his direction, “do you want to wear this? you don’t have these to worry about.” she said pointing towards her breasts when zemo was taken back by her. bucky looked at her and shook his head to tell her to stop talking about that. “what?” she mouthed.
bucky just told her to stop it, she rolled her eyes at him, “fine, sorry they make you uncomfortable.” she joked to him and it wasn’t that they made her uncomfortable but he did want y/n to talk about those things in front of any guys that weren’t him. they kept walking until sam spoke up, “if we have to do something about this, i’m the only one who looks like a pimp—only an american would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp. you look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. the sophisticated, charming african rake named conrad mack, aka the smiling tiger.”
zemo passed the phone to sam to see what he looked like and he did say that they looked like each other, “he even has a bad nickname. hell, he does like me though.” y/n grew curious on what her role was to play and what zemo said made her a little startled. “try not get killed.” she smacked her lips together and nodded knowing he wasn’t joking. bucky turned to her, “he’s joking, you are joking right—uh, no.”
y/n widened her eyes because who would say that, that made her worry even more turning to sam who looked at zemo. “why would you say that, now she’s going to get anxious—look, no matter what happens, we have to stay in character. our lives depend on it. there’s no margin for error. high towns that way.” a car came to stop in front of them. “not a bad place if you wanna visit.” bucky opened the door to let y/n go and when she did, he stepped in.
the car ride was very quiet and anxious, there were many cars that went by. by the time they had arrived, all of people were everywhere and it all just seemed uncommon to her. she saw many faces and it just was all right in front of her, they made it front of a bar when a older man with dark skin, “hello, gentlemen and miss—.” he said looking at y/n who was confused on what was happening then he went to ask if he knew her from somewhere. “do i know you from somewhere?” she shook her head saying no. “i don’t think you do.” he nodded then looking at sam, “want expecting you smiling tiger.”
“his plans changed. we have business to do with selby—the usual?” he asked sam and he went to go grab a snake and sam’s eyes grew huge when he was cutting the snake in the middle. y/n looked up and back at doing a double take when he was cutting it, “smiling tiger, your favorite.” he finished making the drink and face it to sam. zemo clinked his drink with sam’s as he did it hesitantly then doing it.
a man came over to tell zemo that he wasn’t welcomed but zemo wasn’t taking no for an answer. “i have no business with the power broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me—new haircut?” the man said to bucky who just stared at him. “or bring selby for a chat.” the man went away.
a man came to their direction and zemo started speaking russian to bucky, as the man went to grab zemo by the shoulder bucky grabbed his hand pushing him back. bucky started to attack him and everyone time a new person would come and try to fight him but none of them got lucky. it was like a part of the winter soldier was still their, y/n tensed up looking at sam anxiously since that was a part of him that was scary to many people. she couldn’t help but look away from him, she knew it was him and personal but that man was someone she never wanted to encounter.
“didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” bucky was starting to chick the man on the table when people were cocking their guns and both sam and y/n looked at each other when y/n had enough and placed her hand on bucky’s shoulder. “stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” she let go of him when zemo said something in russian to bucky. the man from the bar told them that they were ready to see them, bucky meet y/n’s eyes that were in pain when she breathed and looked down.
she left and when they were supposed to go in, bucky stopped her from entering peopling her into a supply closet that was dark. she furrowed her eyebrows not understanding what he was doing, he told her be quiet. “we have to go—you can’t go in, stay in here and just wait for me—” y/n interrupted him by punching his shoulder and he widened his eyes as she just stared at him. “when will people stop telling me what to do, especially men.” 
she glared at bucky then he rolled his eyes and went to push him out of the way but bucky denied her access. he put his hand in front of her which she slapped away but he gripped on her wrist holding in place—not putting any pressure that would hurt. she looked down at her wrist being held, “james. get out of my way.” she inhaled deeply giving him a long stare. “i don’t want to hurt you—you won’t.” she said hitting him in the abdomen and pushing him into the wal runnng hurriedly to leave but bucky grabbed her quickly slamming her onto the wall.
she looked him holding her wrists above her head, she took a second to understand what was happening. she huffed, “stay here.” bucky demanded her with confrontation to make sure she knew he wasn’t messing around. she agreed and the distant between them was close, but bucky stopped himself from going further. “i will be back, don’t leave—i can take care of myself.” she muttered.
bucky chuckled knowing that she could but this was something that he couldn’t help but protect her. “i know. just please, don’t be stubborn and do this.” y/n rolled her eyes not thinking she was stubborn, she thought it was arrogant of him to assume that of her.
bucky looked at her for a split second then leaving to go with sam and zemo. she slid down the wall hitting her head on the cold surface which she shuddered by. she shut her eyes and smiled showing her teeth when she thought of a memory that popped in. bucky being protective of her. it was a constant thing bucky would do when they were together.
it was the middle of fall, the leaves falling gracefully from the vine maple’s all over the yard, orange and red all over the place. it was beautiful and lavishly. getting pushed into her room, bucky shut the door making y/n look over to see what he was doing. bucky grew red and told her to sit on the bed, she disobeyed him scoffing at the request.
bucky knew that no one would tell her what to besides her parents—“what’s your problem?” she asked at the outburst bucky had. she cleared his throat and bit his cheek to show he was getting impatient with her. “what was that? he grabbed you inappropriately and you just told him it was fine.” he referred to the moment y/n encountered downstairs.
she had this dumbfounded expression, she knew what she did but she didn’t want to tell him. tony had assigned a new member for her to work with y/n and all the boy did was flirt with her. it all started fine when he then decided to be funny and touch her thigh but to his surprise it wasn’t at all. she yelled getting up and tony asking what was wrong and the boy tried to tell everyone that nothing happened.
she told them that he tried, well did touch her. tony grew furious and disgusted at his actions. when bucky over heard, he went to go rush to him but tried to get pulled off by sam and steve. he got through and met the boy punching him in the face making him fall backward moaning at the pain.
y/n was shocked at bucky and scolded him on what just happened with him and the boy. sure he had a right to be mad but he didn’t have to go that far in hurting the boy. everyone knew he couldn’t handle anyone messing with his y/n, she told him that it was fine because she didn’t want anything else to escalate with this boy. he could tell someone that bucky assaulted him which wouldn’t be good.
y/n just thought if she let that go then no one would get hurt even more then her. the girl wanted him to understand that she was harmed in a big way. she sighed grabbing bucky’s hands and pulling him closer to her with his eyes somewhere else. “i’m sorry. i didn’t think it was a big deal. did you have to hurt him though?” she asked kissing his cheek.
he nodded like it was a simple question making her roll her eyes playfully, “yes, what kind of question is that?” she smiled a bit then wrapping her arms carefully around his neck and pulling him into a chaste kiss melting into her arms. she pulled away, “i love you, but don’t hurt anyone anymore.” y/n pleaded not wanting to get hurt.
bucky shrugged not giving her the answer she wanted, walking away to go to the bathroom. “bucky! i’m serious.” she exclaimed running towards him and he just pushed her onto the bathroom door. kissing her one more time and she couldn’t help but smile in the kiss as she didn’t want it to end so soon.
y/n’s thoughts were interrupted by some gun shots and she looked up not wanting to leave the closet. she heard the door rattle and backed up but then she remembered she had powers. she heard faint swears from the outside, “shit. shit. it won’t open—who cares we have to go.” she could vaguely hear who they were. “no, y/n is in here. ok, got it. let’s go doll.”
bucky said grabbing her hand and leading her out while keeping her on her side, she shook her head wanting answers but never stopped. “what’s going on buck?” he didn’t answer her but kept walking faster, “this is not good.” the lights went off when gun shots started to go off and they all ran off trying to leave the shots.
bucky pushed the girl in front as she ran a few motors started to chase them and the faster they ran, more people got shot from above. everyone that was chasing them all got shot from something or someone inside, “you seem to have a guardian angel—well this too perfect. drop it, zemo.” a woman started to say be unrecognizable.
she pulled her hoddie, being shown as sharon with a gun pointing at zemo’s direction. bucky walked forward seeing her, “sharon?—you cost me everything.” she said pointing the gun toward zemo again waiting for him to surrender-himself. “sharon, wait. someone recreated the super-soldier serum and zemo had a lead—that explains what you guys are here. and selby’s dead. but why are you here?”
sharon said looking at y/n who just gave her a blank stare, “i asked you a question y/n—watch your tone.” y/n said tensing you and walking towards sharon but bucky pulled her back not wanting to start anything. “calm down, it’s fine.” bucky whispered to her ear. “so what are you doing here?—i stole Steve’s shield, remember? i also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save his ass from his ass. unlike you, i didn’t have the avengers to back me up.”
sharon went to look directly at y/n this time, “so i’m off the grid in madripoor—hey, don’t blow that smoke on me. i was on the run, too—was. is. big difference. i don’t speak to my family anymore. i can’t. my father doesn’t know where i am” she rambled off.
“listen... sharon we need your help.” sharon chuckled before continuing to talk to them, “please, why can she help you—can this bickering stop for a second, sharon.” y/n demanded the woman. she sighed not wanting to agree with her, “this isn’t over. i have a place in high town. you’ll be safe there.”
52 notes · View notes
pocketramblr · 4 years
Text
how his hair do that, 5 options
the following is a crack fanfic in five parts, each section on the same premise but not same continuity. also, very spoilerish
bnha manga spoilers below! very recent leaks below! very spoilery!
Better than a charcoal milkshake v 1
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When the heroes first attacked, alarms blaring, compound up in chaos, Dabi snuck away. He let the others pour out of the doors and down the stairs, and crept backwards, turning and running once he was certain no one would notice him.
Not that it would matter much if he did, but why waste the energy on killing them too? He’d need all his firepower today.
Dabi tore through the halls to his room, making it there and slapping his card against the scanner. No time to lose, not when he knew he needed to take care of a few more things before locating where Endeavor was in this heroes’ mission.
He kicked open his bathroom door, hands occupied with carefully pulling the black wig off his head- snagging that on his staples was just the worst, and he couldn’t have blood messing this up today.
Not yet, at least.
Under the bathroom cabinet he grabbed the bag of powery charcoal. It was supposed to be used for some beauty purpose or another, something about enriching hair that didn’t even work- but it would work to darken his white locks.
He poured it on, barely bothering to lean over the sink and keep it from going everywhere. As a final test, he once more wet a bit of it, the color seeping from the hair as it dripped.
He already knew it would work, that’s why he had intercepted so much of it before the quirk cultists could offer it to Toga or Hawks or whoever, but his heart was racing with both nerves and pure excitement.
Finally. The day he’d burn it all down, and make them see why.
He left his door open as he ran back out into the hallway, making a beeline for where he left Hawks. First things first, take care of that, then find Endeavor.
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Better than a charcoal milkshake v 2
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“Hey, put me down by that camping supplies store. And Skeptic too.” Dabi ordered, surveying the carnage of Jakku and glancing over at the man hunched over his laptop.
Said man looped up sharply at that, frowning and spitting that he wasn’t going to do that or something.
Dabi didn’t really pay attention to that.
“Where?” Gigantomachia asked, still rumbling forward towards whatever he smelled. Two masters or something.
Compress cleared his throat and translated for the currently blinded giant. “It’s at 4:05 o’clock, I’d say thirty feet forward.” He then looked over at Dabi, mask as unsettling as any of them. “You’ll be carefull too, on your personal mission?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dabi waved him off, snagging Skeptic by the back of his shirt and tugging as Machia scooped them up and placed them on the pavement.
He ran inside the evacuated store, mercifully empty and not decayed, and started looking for the bags of charcoal.
When he found one, he tore it open. Charcoal fell to the floor, and he ground his boot down into it.
“What…” Skeptic seemed without words, for once. Good.
Dabi tore off his black wig, tossing it aside. He wouldn’t need it anymore.
“You wear a wig??”
“Yeah.” He started to scoop up handfuls of the charcoal, rubbing it into his hair. “Hey, go grab me some water, and then go set up the cameras. We got a show to put on.”
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Stinky dumpster boy
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“But my good name?” He sneered the word and all it implied in the world of false heroes, “is Todoroki Touya.”
With that, he dumped the water over his head, and it streamed down over his face, filthy.
The dirty water, practically mud, stung the places on his face where his skin was barely stapled together, and Dabi was reminded of why he didn’t bother with showers anymore- the pain.
But now his true colors- literally- were revealed and it was all worth it. All the truth was out, and the truth had always hurt him.
Shoto, who seemed to be trying to juggle first aid on like, five different people with two random heroes he didn’t know next to him, gaped.
“Come on, I know my face has changed, but my own family should still be able to recognize me, yeah? But you never did. You never did, Todoroki Shoto.”
Dabi suddenly found himself encased in ice.
Ah, this again.
“Yumi’s is colder.”
Shoto’s jaw dropped, then he glared. “Stand back.” He said as he stood up. “He just dunked water on his head, to cool him off I bet. If he is Touya, his body never could handle his own heat. If he’s not… those burns come from somewhere at least.”
Ok, now Dabi was offended.
“What do you mean, ‘if I’m not’?” he demanded. “I just revealed my white hair? I know that’s what the picture on my shrine looks like, you never even looked at that?”
“How do you even know what your shrine looks like?” Shoto sounded dangerously close to judgmental for a little brother who was probably as emo as Dabi had been at his age. “And wait, that cup of water was supposed to wash out your hair? What, do you never bathe or something?”
Ok, now Dabi was really offended.
“Of course I bathe! I just have to sponge bath, because I don’t know if you’ve noticed from having your own scars, but when they take up most of your body and are killing you they end up controlling a lot of your life!”
Ugh, asking him if he didn’t bathe. He’d understand that asked of Shigaraki, sure, but him? Shoto had gotten close enough to smell him, at least.
“Um, sorry to interrupt,” the hero in blue, the one that was tending to Eraserhead, raised his hands. “But uh… do you want some help with that?”
“I’m fine, don’t want to cool him off too much so he can fight longer.” Shoto shook his head.
“I was talking to him.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
The hero waved his hand, bubble of water pulling up from the ground. Then he pointed to his own head. “I can take care of that? At the very least it’ll be cleaned out and um, whatever color it should be?”
Dabi stared at him. Shoto stared at him. The other hero in green stared at him, and the one who’d offered help started to sweat noticebly.
“Eh, sure, whatever.”
The hero nodded, and the bubble of water floated over to him, disappearing in his hair.
The bubble floated out a couple of time, murky brown and black with ash, dirt, oil, blood, anything else he’d never thought about too much. It would wring itself thin, much dropping, and return to cleaning.
Finally, his hair was mostly white and thoroughly soaked.
“Thanks.” He called over.
“Yeah.” The hero answered, still frantically trying to help Eraserhead with his free hand, which he’d gone back too as soon as he thought Dabi was distracted. Buying time.
The other hero was on his fourth facepalm.
Shoto just looked contemplative.
Endeavor, one of the ones receiving treatment, sat up but looked like he was going to pass out.
Well all right then. Time to really start- the hair snafu didn’t matter. They were all going to die that day anyway.
--------
Weirdest commercial I’ve ever been in.
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“We’ll be dancing in hell together, Todoroki Enji.” Dabi finished his speech with a sneer.
The watching heroes were all stunned silent, mouths open, eyes wide. The revelation must be sending them, like it would all who were watching Skeptic’s broadcast. This would burn it all down, perfect.
“I don’t understand…” Enji managed to say, spitting out a bit of blood.
“What, you don’t understand how I survived, or how I hate you so much I’d hurt innocent people over it? Because that second part is exactly what you did, take out all that self-loathing and insecurity, rage at your shortcomings and condemn children not born yet to them. Guess it’s a family trait.”
“No, not that,” He waved a hand. “I mean, I totally get how you’re a wreck, even if all of your other siblings managed to not become mass murders, I mean- I don’t understand, how did that pint of water wash out all of your hair dye? Aren’t you better funded after the Deika merger, can’t you afford proper hair coloring?”
“I was also wondering that.” Shoto admitted.
“Same.” The hero in blue nodded. The hero in green facepalmed.
“Water?” Dabi repeated, then looked at the can he’d tossed aside. “Oh, no. This isn’t water- it’s a momento of the only true hero.” He bent down, picking up the can and studying the image on it.
“Stain was right, you know.” He mused. “About hero society being rotten. So rotton, so full of fakes, that there was only one that deserved the title. He just got the wrong hero, guessing All Might.” Dabi snorted at the very idea. “No, the only real one, the pure one, the one that defines heroism, the only one with a kill count higher than me- for all the dear old man and his biggest fan Hawks tried, of course- is Wash.”
“… Wash?” Shoto cocked his head. “Wait, like, Wash, Wash?”
“The one and only. That’s how this Official Wash’s Hair Washing Serum, the only product that can wash out all dirt, dye, and any other kind of grime, in just one go.” He shook the can around so they could see. “What, you all thought I could just magically lighten my hair from black to white in the space of one fight?”
“No,” Shoto said, like a liar, and then he threw a glacier at Dabi, and the fight was on in earnest.
--------
Old news
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“And now you’ll see who I really am, who you’ve created.” Dabi poured the bleach over his head, giving it a moment to sink into the hair before he shook it out, grinning wide enough to tear his staples.
The heroes on the ground and the few tending to them stared in shock.
Then Shoto gasped.
“Hawks?”
“What? Where?” Dabi whirled around, looked up, because he was really sure he had managed to make sure that pest wouldn’t be flying or fighting again, but well… he’d thought that once before and been wrong then.
“No, you- you’re Hawks, you dye your hair black when its in Dabi mode, and its that beachy yellow blond in Hawks mode.” Shoto nodded to himself.
Blond? Dabi tugged at a lock of hair, and huh. It did seem more yellow than white.
“How could he be Hawks?” The hero in green demanded incredulously, before the hero in blue grabbed his arm and pulled it back to holding down Eraserhead for bandaging.
“The burns and staples are part of the disguise,” Shoto explained. “Fake, and misdirection. You were trained from young childhood to be a hero, sent to join AfO and the league as a spy, where you gained a fire quirk and decided to switch to the villains’ side because you hated the life you were forced into.”
Dabi stared at him.
Shoto stared back.
Enji stared at both of them.
“How are you so smart and so stupid at the same time?” Slipped from chapped, burnt lips.
Shoto looked offended at that.
“I mean, you’re half right, yes that’s what up with Hawks, yes he was sent as a spy, but I knew and I killed him at the compound. And not, like, in a metaphorical way.” He added when he saw something spark in Shoto’s eyes. “Literally. I’m not him. He is completely separate person and body than me and I totally literally killed him.” Or like. Close enough. “And like, thirty other people who were completely innocent.”
Or close enough, he really didn’t bother to keep track, but thirty sounded like a big number. Especially of murders.
“So then who are you?” Shoto asked.
“What, you don’t recognize me, little brother?” He almost growled it, feeling very tired of this all of a sudden.
“Little brother?” Shoto repeated, eyes wide, then narrowing. “Wait, how…”
“Oh not again.” Enji muttered.
“Not again?” Dabi asked. “Wait, you actually managed to drive one of the others to this too? And cover it up? Man, Enji, you’re more rotten than even I knew then!”
“One of the others?” Shoto looked around wildly. “What are you talking about?”
“I was talking about how Shigaraki also randomly showed up and called a first year student “little brother”.” Enji looked back over at Dabi. “What were you talking about?”
“Shigaraki did what?” The pyro looked over his shoulder, finding the villain looking absolutely stoned on the ground, almost as vacant as some of the unconscious heroes, with a curly haired student laying bloodied nearby, staring up at him. “Wait, which student is his little brother?”
“Midoriya, apparently.” Shoto shrugged.
“Midoriya?” Dabi almost choked on the name. “As in, the green bone-breaking kid? Isn’t he like All Might’s lovechild or something?”
“That’s what I said too!”
“I mean, his hair was also lighter when he showed up today.” The hero in blue pointed out to his fellow in a voice that would have been too quiet for Dabi to hear had everyone else not gone silent as well.
“And bleach boy tried to do the same thing with the bleach, yeah. Here, I’ll tie this off, you go take care of Bakugo.”
“I’m Todoroki Touya!” Dabi snapped. “Or I used to be called by that name, anyway, before you nearly killed me, Enji. Let’s just- get back to fighting, yeah, I’m going to kill you.”
239 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 4 years
Text
Baked Chicken
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Submitted by @mylittleladysblog :
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A/n: Shoutout to Greg Townley, though I pray he never sees this.
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It was the first week of shooting the newest Spider-Man movie, and you were finally wearing costumes. Getting to wear MJ’s comfortable clothes was always an exciting part of the film making process for you. You saw your stunt double in the same white t shirt and ripped black jeans as you were in and gave her a high five. She didn’t wear her wig unless she was filming, so you could easily be told a let. Unlike Tom and Greg, who were impossible to differentiate between when they were wearing the same costume and facing the back.
Impossible.
“Hey you.” You spotted Tom with his face buried in the script and tapped him on the shoulder. After two movies together, now working on your third, you were best friends.
And it is perfectly normal to be in love with your best friend.
“Hey Y/n.” Toms stunt double, Greg turned around with a surprised smile.
“Greg! What a surprise!” You laughed in shock and tried to hide your embarrassment for mistaking Greg as Tom.
“Surprise? You tapped me on the shoulder.” Greg reminded you, not realizing you had been looking for Tom. You nodded and decided to lie as to not hurt his feelings.
“And it’s very surprising that you turned around. I could’ve been anyone. I could’ve had a knife!” You laughed awkwardly at your lame attempt at a cover up and Greg saw right through it.
“You thought I was Tom.” He said matter of factly.
“I did, yes.” You admitted. “But getting to talk to you is a lovely surprise.”
“Right.” He laughed dismissively and you instantly felt guilty.
“I’m sorry. I am happy to see you, though. You’re doing a really great job with the stunts.” You told him sincerely and he gave you a half smile.
“Thanks. Its really not that scary if you ever wanted to try it. I could even show you.” He offered with a certain kindness to it.
“Haha, thanks but I think I’ll let my stunt double handle that. I’m not a huge fan of heights or falling to my death.” You said and he laughed.
“Nonsense. I wouldn’t let you fall.” He shrugged shyly. 👉👈 I’ll put them in every story just watch me
“Thanks, Greg.” You smiled, pleasantly surprised with how the accidental conversation had gone.
“Hey, Y/n.” Tom came from behind you and put his hand on the small of your back, something he did when the paparazzi on the red carpets were shouting a little too loudly or if someone got a little too close to you. “Hi, Greg.”
“Tom!” You leaned into his touch, sensing he was a little off.
“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Greg nodded and walked towards the trailers.
“Since when are you and Greg friends?” Tom asked as soon as Greg was out of earshot. He kept his hand on your back and you realized he felt threatened.
“Since we started rehearsing in costume and I can’t tell you guys apart from the back.” You told him to ease his mind.
“That’s too bad.” Tom laughed lightly, relieved to know the playful shoulder tap was meant for him.
“It is too bad. I just wasted some perfectly good flirting on your stunt double.” You joked and Toms angst was immediately alleviated. Neither of you dared to say it, but you both knew you had something going on. Tom was just as hopelessly in love with you as you were with him, but the fear of getting rejected and then having to continue playing love interests stopped you from confessing.
It just didn’t stop you from flirting.
“Oh yeah? Maybe I should start doing my own stunts, then, like Tom Cruise.” Tom said and flexed his arm to make you laugh. “Makes the action shots look a a lot cooler anyway, you know?”
“I have never seen a Tom Cruise movie.” You said as you playfully squeezed his muscle.
“Really?” Tom asked.
“I don’t even think I’ve seen a trailer of his.” You realized. “I doubt I could even name one of his movies.”
“Mission impossible.” Tom told you.
“Well, I don’t think it’d be impossible for me to name one but it might take a while.” You disagreed, not realizing he was naming a movie.
“No I was- you know what? Never mind.” Tom laughed fondly and you had a feeling you missed the joke. Not wanting the conversation to end there, you gave him a soft shrug.
“Maybe we can watch one together one day.” You suggested as you fixed them collar of his shirt.
“I would love to.” He said with a faint blush.
That night, you watched about 47 minutes of a Tom Cruise movie before falling asleep in Toms lap. He made it midway of the movie before dozing off as well.
You woke up first the next morning and jolted a little when you didn’t recognize where you were. You quickly realized you were in Toms trailer, smiling softly when you saw his sleeping body next to you. Your legs were practically braided together, so you couldn’t move. You nudged him a little and in his sleep, he pulled you back on to the bed and held you to his chest.
“Morning.” You giggled as he rolled on top of you, still half asleep.
“Good morning.” Tom said groggily, opening his eyes a title. “What time is it?”
“7. We have to be in makeup by 8.” You checked your phone. You pushed him off of you but he held on tight, leaving you with your chin resting on his chest as he stared down at you, arms clad around your waist and resting on your back.
“I kinda want to stay here all day. Is that bad?” He said with a sleepy smile.
“It’s not bad if I want to do it too.” You smiled and brushed a hair off his nose. “We can stay here a few more minutes and then go get some breakfast. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” He nodded and ran his fingers through your messy hair.
~
You spotted Tom later in the blue plaid button up he was wearing as Peters costume. After the morning you’d had together, you were less worried of his rejection and more focused on sealing the deal. You walked up to him with confidence and gave him a hug from behind.
“Hey.” You wrapped your arms around his torso, missing him after a long day of shooting separate scenes. You were surprised to hear a deep sigh come from his mouth, as if he wasn’t happy to see you.
“It’s Greg.” Greg said and you quickly let go as you realized you were hugging the wrong boy.
“Oh shit.” You whispered as Greg turned around. “I mean, hey Greg! Don’t be silly, I knew it was you.” You lied through your teeth.
“You did?” Greg asked with a hint of skepticism and a hint of hope.
“Well of course! I just had to give my special guy a hug, like I always do.” You said with unnatural cheerfulness. You were a great actress, but a terrible liar.
“I thought you only hugged me when you thought I was Tom.” Greg said and you felt stuck.
“What? Me? Never. I hug you because I…love you.” You blurted the first thing that came to your mind. You barely knew Greg and now you were telling him you loved him.
“You love me?” Greg said with a bright smile.
“Who doesn’t love Greg? Not me, I’ll tell you that.” You slapped his arm. “Love me some Greg every now and then.” You committed to your lie.
“Thanks, Y/n. That means a lot.” Greg was somehow unaware of your deceit.
“Anytime, pal. Anytime.” You punched him lightly on the shoulder. As he walked away, you made a mental note to double check before hugging anybody in a plaid shirt.
You went two full weeks without accidentally hugging Greg after that. All your hugs had been given to Tom, who they were rightfully meant for. He enjoyed the affection from you and at the same time, Greg began to miss it.
~
“That was amazing! God, you take my breath away.” You threw your arms around Toms shoulders and squeezed after a strenuous shoot with lots of wire work. He put his hands over yours and gave them a light squeeze before turning around.
“Aw, thanks Y/n.” Greg smiled and you felt like an idiot.
“How the hell does this keep happening?” You thought.
“Greg!” You said with a fake smile as you scanned the background for Tom.
“You thought I was Tom again, didn’t you?” He asked, a little disappointed.
“Would you stop with that? I always know it’s you.” You blatantly lied to his face
“You don’t have to say that, Y/n. If you were expecting Tom-“ Greg began.
“I wasn’t expecting Tom.” You cut him off, even though you were completely expecting Tom.
“So I take your breath away?” He tested you.
“Absolutely.” You let out a fake scoff.
“That’s funny.” He said with a small smile.
“Why?” You asked.
“You do the same to me.” He said timidly.
“Oh.” You said softly.
“See you around.” He nodded and walked away, leaving you confused and questioning what he meant.
~
The next time you waited for Tom after filming a scene, you made sure it was actually Tom. You waited until Toms sweet brown eyes met yours before you ran to him.
“Tom! Great job.” You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. Tom happily picked you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He set you down gently and squeezed your face between his hands with an endearing grin.
“Thanks, princess.” He said. The nickname made your heart skip a beat. You smiled brightly at him until your eyes trailed to the right. Tom followed your gaze and saw Greg leaving set. You broke out of Toms embrace and went to Greg.
“Greg! Awesome work!” You said honestly and gave him a quick hug, which he happily accepted. Tom felt jealousy bubble in the pit of his tummy at the sight of you and Greg. He had no idea when it started, but he seemed to be seeing you and Greg together everywhere he turned.
“Thanks, Y/n. Catch you later.” Greg smiled and left the set.
“I didn’t realize you and Greg were on a hugging basis now.” Tom said, sounded less friendly than he intended. He was annoyed, and you could tell.
“I just have to convince him that I hug him on purpose.” You said and Tom furrowed his eyebrows.
“What does that even mean?” Tom inquired.
“I’ll explain later. Come on. I’ve missed you all day.” You tugged him by the hand and the pit in his tummy was replaced with butterflies as you tugged him towards your trailer.
~
“Hey man.” Greg said as he walked up to the snack table and stood behind Tom.
“Mate, awesome work today. The stunts look great.” Tom complimented.
“You’re doing something great work yourself.” Greg returned the favor.
“Thanks. I could never do what you do, though. They must’ve dunked you in that water a thousand times.” Tom kept the conversation light.
“It’s worth it. Especially this next scene.” Greg smiled to himself.
“Next scene?” Tom asked as he stirred some sugar into his tea.
“When MJ dives in the lake after Peter and kisses him through the mask.” Greg said with a light blush on his cheeks. Tom knew the scene was being shot today, but he assumed it was going to be between Greg and your stunt double.
“Oh, right. You’re excited to spend all that time underwater?” Tom forced a laugh before taking a sip of tea.
“I’m excited for Y/n to kiss me.” Greg laughed and Tom choked on his tea. He snapped out of it and tried to keep his cool as he continued the conversation.
“Oh, yeah? I thought her stunt double was gonna do that.” Tom said as he dabbed his chin with a napkin.
“Nah, man. That’s what makes her so cool. She said something about seeing a Tom Cruise movie for the first time and wanting to do her own stunts. She’s gonna be the one diving in the lake and kissing me underwater. Best job ever, right?” Greg nudged Tom playfully, having no idea how much Tom liked you. Or how much this conversation was killing him.
“Right.” Tom laughed nervously. “Are you into her or something?”
“God, I am in love with that girl. And I think she likes me back.” Greg said confidently and Toms heart stopped. You were always talking to Greg, and usually seemed very happy when you were. You hadn’t mentioned anything about liking someone, but then again, you never talked about that stuff with Tom. Toms mouth went dry at the thought of you losing you to his stunt double.
“What makes you so sure?” He asked curiously, a little afraid to hear the answer.
“She’s always running to see me or hugging me from behind. And she compliments me so much, it’s insane.” Greg chuckled. “I think she might really like me.”
“And all the hugs from behind, are you sure they’re meant for you? I don’t mean to burst your bubble or anything, but she and I are very close and she could be mistaking you for me when we’re in the same clothes. Or something.” Tom stammered.
“That’s what I always thought, but she assured me it wasn’t true.” Greg smiled to himself at the thought of the conversation you had once. “She told me I take her breath away, man. How cute is that?”
“Adorable.” Tom gulped. He didn’t know you said that to Greg, and it made him upset to think about you giving such a sweet compliment to someone else.
“I’m gonna ask her out.” Greg decided. “I’m tired of waiting. I’m just gonna do it.”
“Ask her out? When?” Tom panicked.
“Next time I see her. You’re shooting a scene on set B later, right? She usually hangs around when you’re filming. I’ll probably catch her there.” Greg drew up his plan.
“Ha, yeah.” Tom laughed weakly.
“Alright. See you later, dude.” Greg patted Toms back and walked away from the table.
“Later.” Tom said, but Greg was already gone.
Tom left the snack table and started furiously texting you, asking you to meet him anywhere as quickly as possible. He entirely missed you walked past him until he heard your voice.
“Hey Greg.” You said as you walked by, also buried in your phone. Tom stopped walking and looked at you curiously.
“It’s Tom.” Tom said, a little bitterly, and you stopped in your tracks. You turned around with a surprised smile and walked back to him.
“Oh My God, really?” You said in disbelief, looking him up and down to make sure it was true.
“Were you expecting Greg?” Tom worried after the conversation he’d just had with Greg.
“I am literally never expecting Greg. That’s my problem.” You laughed and fixed Toms hair that had fallen into his face.
“What?” Tom asked, feeling better now that you were being your usual flirty self with him.
“Nothing. Long story.” You shook your head and stopped touching his hair, content with how it looked.
“Okay. You ready for that lake scene later? I heard you’re doing it yourself.” Tom faked a smile, desperate to know your thoughts on shooting the scene with Greg.
“I am! I’m really excited for it actually. You’re gonna be there right?” You asked for confirmation.
“Definitely.” Tom assured you, trying to read your reaction.
“Cool. I like when you watch me film.” You told him and he perked up a little.
“Having me there doesn’t make you nervous? Every time I know my mum is watching a take, I forget how to blink.” Tom eased up and you laughed.
“It’s different with you. I feel more at ease knowing you’re watching. It calms me down.” You told him and he couldn’t help from smiling.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He said honestly. “And you’re doing the scene with Greg, right?”
“Yeah. Greg.” You nodded slightly, not wanting to change the subject.
“Great guy.” Tom commented with an uneasy smile.
“No, totally.” You said stiffly. You did not want to be talking about Greg with the boy you liked.
“Are you excited to kiss him?” Tom blurted and you looked at him strangely.
“Excited? Bleh. It’s through the mask anyway and it’s in the script. It’s nothing like what we shot yesterday.” You tried to bring the conversation back to a place where progress was being made. Toms face flushed when he thought of the climatic kiss you shot yesterday. After 18 takes of kissing you like he’d never see you again, Tom went home dizzy with a dreamy smile on his face.
“Yeah I um, I enjoyed yesterday.” He looked at the ground and smiled shyly. 👉👈 I’ll never stop.
“We should do it again sometime.” You said boldly and Toms attention whipped back to you. He had to stop the giant smile that wanted to break through from surfacing.
“I agree. Maybe without the camera though.” His mouth moved faster than his brain, but you seemed to like it.
“Yeah.” You smiled and took a step closer to Tom. “I meant to tell you this before, but you’re doing a great job with this film. I love staying on set to watch you do your scenes. Especially the emotional ones, Tom.” You sighed in content. “You take my breath away.
“I do? Me?” Tom asked when he recognized the compliment you had told Greg.
“Yeah, you.” You laughed at his strange response. “Why?”
“Can I ask you something?” He became serious.
“Anything.” You assured him.
“Have you ever hugged Greg thinking he was me?” He asked if as casually as he could to not make it weird.
“Um, only like everyday. That’s why I was so surprised it was actually you earlier. Why?” You wondered how he had caught on to your ongoing dilemma.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” He said, all playfulness gone from his tone. Tom wanted to tell you about Greg’s plan, not necessarily to steal you from Greg, but to prepare you for what was coming. If Tom was putting the pieces together correctly, all your flirty banter with Greg was intended for Tom. Now Greg was whipped and you were about to look like the bad guy.
He also wanted to steal you from Greg.
“Tom Holland to set B. Tom Holland to set B.” A voice rang through on the announcements at the worst possible time.
“You can tell me after. I gotta head to makeup anyway.” You smiled and Tom felt his panic rise. “It’s just a touch-up, so I’ll be by soon to watch your scene. Good luck.” You squeezed his arm and walked away. Tom watched with dread as you left before he had a chance to tell you what was coming.
~
Tom stood on his mark and listened to what the director wanted him to do in the scene, even though his mind was a million miles away. He only barely heard them call “action” and began to deliver his lines with his focus all over the place. His eyes trailed off his scene partner and landed on Greg, slowly approaching you as you watched the scene with a giddy smile. Toms mouth went dry and he purposely flubbed his line so they could stop filming. The director began to give him some more directions, but Toms focus was pointed at you and Greg.
“Hey, Y/n.” Greg taped your shoulder and you turned around.
“Freaking Greg.” Tom muttered through gritted teeth.
“Hey Greg. Come by to watch the scene?” You asked politely.
“I came to see you, actually.” Greg said, making your head turn.
“You did?” You asked, not used to him initiating the conversations you had.
“Yeah, there was something I needed to tell you.” Greg smiled nervously and Tom felt himself beginning to sweat, the cold kind that chilled your spine.
“Oh, sure. Go ahead.” You said and gave Greg your full attention.
“No no no no no no.” Tom whispered in despair.
“What was that?” Kevin, the director asked.
“I said ‘woah woah woah woah woah’ because this scene is just so good.” Tom lied and turned his attention back to you.
“Can we go somewhere private, actually?” Greg requested and Tom nearly fell to the ground. He wished he could leave the set and ask you to stay, ask you to be his instead, but he couldn’t. He had to stand by and watch as another boy whisked you away. A boy in the exact same freaking clothing as Tom was in.
“Okay.” You made eye contact with Tom and Greg began to lead you away. You weren’t blind to the look of devastation on his face and gave him a quizzical look. Tom shrugged sadly and you began to wonder if this had anything to do with what he was trying to tell you before.
You and Greg walked off set and found a quiet space near the trailers. Your tummy did flip flops as Greg cleared his throat, obviously getting ready to tell you something. You took a deep breathe and lead the conversation.
“What did you need to tell me?” You asked.
“I guess I’ll just be straightforward. I like you, Y/n. I like you a lot.” Greg admitted. “I wasn’t gonna say anything because I didn’t think I’d ever have a chance with a girl like you, but then you kept hugging me and complimenting me and I don’t know. It made me think you liked me back? Am I right when I say that?”
“Greg, I…” You absorbed his words and let them sink to the bottom of your tummy like a rock. “…am a jerk. I’m a total jerk.”
“That’s not true. You’re the nicest person on this set.” Greg insisted and you felt even worse.
“I’m not.” You sighed. “I do admire your work and I am always happy to see you, but I have never approached you thinking you were…well, you. I’m always-“
“-looking for Tom?” Greg finished your sentence.
“Yes.” You came clean. “I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I just felt so bad. I didn’t want you to feel unappreciated, because I really do think you’re great. I didn’t realize lying would make the situation worse.”
“I had a feeling you weren’t actually excited to see me.” Greg laughed halfheartedly. “Probably should’ve listened to that feeling.”
“I’m so sorry.” You apologized and squeezed his arm.
“You know what? It’s okay. We wouldn’t have worked out anyway.” Greg said with a sincerity you appreciated. He didn’t seem hurt, just relieved to get it off his chest.
“Why do you say that?” You asked out of curiosity.
“Well, like I said. You take my breath away.” Greg said and you felt guilt again. “You make me so nervous, it’s not even funny. And there’s this study that says if you meet someone and they make you nervous, and your palms get sweaty, and your heart races out of your chest, then they aren’t the one for you. It’s not until you meet someone who makes you feel totally calm that you’ve found your soulmate.”
“Oh.” You said quietly, taking his words into consideration.
“Have you ever had that? Someone who makes you feel at peace?” He asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” You told him, too deep in thought to give him a better answer.
“Greg Townley to Lot A. Greg Townley to Lot A.” Rang over the announcements.
“That’s my cue. I’ll see you around, Y/n.” Greg gave you a kind smile.
“See you.” You said sadly. He walked away and you felt your heart sink with every step he took. You didn’t want to be with him, but you also didn’t want to break his heart. He was so kind about your rejection that it made you even sadder. He deserved better than an “I don’t know.”
You took a walk to clear your head and didn’t get back to your trailer until the sun had set. You’d taken a lot of time to think, asking yourself what today was supposed to teach you. If Greg could put himself out there and confess his feelings, you could too. You could also tell him the real reason you had to turn him down. You opened your trailer door and jumped when you saw Greg in there already, facing the wall and flipping through a magazine. You took a deep breath and prepared to rip the band-aid off.
“Greg! I need to talk to you. Remember when you asked me if I had someone who made me feel at peace and I told you I didn’t know?” You asked. “I do know. It’s Tom. It’s always been Tom. You are so sweet and talented and kind but I am so in love with that boy, it’s unbelievable.” You let out a laugh. “I really appreciate you telling me about your feelings and I’m sorry I can’t reciprocate them, but it has nothing to do with you. It’s just because I’m in love with someone else. I’m sorry.”
Greg had stopped flipping through the magazine at some point and stood frozen, facing the wall. You were out of breath from your rant and his stillness wasn’t helping your anxiety.
“Please say something.” You begged. Greg slowly turned around and lo and behold,
It was Tom.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” You yelled, not to anyone in particular, but it was slightly aimed at God.
“You’re in love with me?” Tom asked like it was the craziest thing he ever heard. You gave him a shrug, not knowing what else to do.
“Now it’s you? Why hasn’t it been you the 500 times I’ve given Greg the best hug of his life? The one time I need to talk to Greg, and it’s you? Really?” You asked the Heavens why you consistently made that mistake. “Oh and yeah, I am.” You sheepishly answered his question.
“I thought Greg was gonna ask you out.” He said, hurt evident in his tone.
“He did.” You told him, once again talking about Greg instead of your budding romance with each other.
“And you said no?” Tom tilted his head to the side.
“Did you not hear my whole rant?” You practically yelled at him out of frustration.
“Well, not the first part because I was reading a recipe for baked chicken-“ Tom glanced back down at the magazine and pure rage filled your body.
“TOM!” You yelled to regain his attention.
“It was a good recipe!” He defended as he pointed to the centerfold. “It has sweet potatoes.”
“I’m trying to tell you how I feel and you’re-wait, sweet potatoes?” You pretended to be caught off guard at the new information.
“Yeah, look.” He handed you the magazine as you glared at him for not getting your sarcasm. You smacked it out of his hands and he stared at it on the ground. You both stood in silence for a moment, staring at the magazine before Tom started to laugh. You were angry at first, but started laughing as well when you realized he was messing with you.
“You don’t care about the chicken.” You said indefinitely.
“Nope.” He shook his head.
“You’re messing with me.” You realized.
“Yep.” He nodded with a cheeky grin.
“I hate you so much.” You whined and stamped your foot.
“I may be in love with you, but you’re always gonna be my best friend before anything else. And there’s nothing I love more than messing with my best friend.” Tom took your hand and pulled you against his body. You let out a little surprised laugh but quieted down when you saw the look on his face as he took your face between his hands. “You think I care about baked chicken when my princess told me she’s in love with me? You think I’m worried about sweet potatoes now? At a time like this?”
“That was half sweet and half absolutely ridiculous to listen to.” You berated him and he laughed. You could feel his body moving against yours as he laughed and it had a certain effect on you.
“Was it the part about the sweet potatoes?” He pouted and you wanted to smack him.
“No.” You huffed and he pressed his forehead against yours.
“The baked chicken, then?” He asked.
“Say baked chicken one more time and I promise you-“ You were interrupted by Tom kissing you. You’d kissed plenty of times before for the camera, but this one felt different.
This one felt earned.
Tom pulled away after a minute and let out a soft chuckle.
“I’ve been in love with you for years, and all it took was Greg and some baked chicken for us to finally get together?” He whispered to not disturb the peace.
“Don’t mistake my gentle tone for calmness because I can assure you, I am filled with waters of rage,” You said sweetly and Tom laughed, “but I dare you to say baked chicken again. I dare you.”
“Alright, I’ll stop.” Tom smiled and pecked your lips again. “We can’t go to far from set, so I have some ramen and Cheerios if you want dinner. It can be like our first date.”
“God, ramen and Cheerios? You spoil me too much.” You teased him over his food choices.
“Says the girl with nothing in her trailer but popcorn and no microwave.” Tom teased you.
“It’s not my fault that they took away my microwave after I accidentally put the mental cup in there.” You shot back. Tom bit his lips as he stared at you with a dopey smile. It wasn’t long before you smiled back.
“Tell you what princess, as soon as we get a break from filming, I want you to come over to my house for a real date.” Tom said as he wrapped his arms around you. “I have plans for us.”
“Plans?” You asked with a cheeky smile.
“There’s this great recipe-“ Tom didn’t get to finish his sentence, as he was smacked across the face with one of your pillows.
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winter-fox-queen · 3 years
Text
Kisses Like Wine Part 7
Thank you, thank you for all the kind words, clever tags…I hope this ending is a good one for all of you. <3
Summary: We end where we begin…at a party. Will the Thief get everything he came for?
Warnings: Making out…I don’t know why, the man exudes pure sex, but I couldn’t fit the smut in. Stealing things. The reader is female, blank canvass, no y/n.
I stared at the card.  All that blackmail, clever managing to break into a warehouse, avoiding getting killed…and all I had to show for it was an empty chair and a card.
A King of Spades. What the hell did that even mean?  It’s been a few days, and I had no idea where he was, if he was alright, anything.
But I did have a bit of luck.  I learned that there was to be a ball…and it was tonight. The Heart of the Rhine would be on delicious display, around the neck of a lady who claimed to be one of the “Last Habsburg Princesses” — though people made fun of her for her grandiose claims.  But still.  She was going to the ball, wearing the Heart, and I was going to steal it.
I had a glass fake.  It wasn’t a very good glass fake, but it would do with the time I had.  I also had a beautiful dress, a soft, filmy green that clung where it should and sparkled like a thousand diamonds had been sewn into it.
I then tried to treat myself to dinner, but the card was declined…finally, my father had cut me off.  I laughed…I had bought everything from the skin out for the ball, made sure I was the most beautiful and elegant I could be, and it was the MCDonald’s cheeseburger that got declined.
I told myself I was dressing for the part, not for the man.  I hadn’t picked out the most beautiful lingerie to wear under the dress that I could just in case he would get to see it.
I’d give my soul to know his name, and it scared me, how far I’d gone.
How much I wanted him.
So, there I was.  At the entryway to the Great Ballroom (which I’d cleaned yesterday, and helped set up this morning before collecting my paycheck and canning my maid outfit and wig for good, thank you very much) I paused.  It was going to end the way it began.
I told myself I was ready.
“I thought you’d be in the corner, singing to yourself, angel.”  His voice was like a heavy velvet wrap around my heart.  I was suddenly so very aware.  Aware of the warmth of his body near my back, the feel of his hand as he moved to take mine, bending low and kissing the knuckles, the dark pools of his eyes never leaving mine.
“It’s not a masquerade, this time.”  I was proud that I almost sounded unaffected.  Almost.  He was wearing a jacket of silvery grey, it shimmered a little in the light.  “All masks are off.”
“Are they?”  He presented me with a little pouch.  Smiled down into my eyes, his eyes so deep and dark — but warm, like summer shadows.
“What’s this?”  I took it gently.
“A thank you present, for later…hide it in one of the pockets you had sewn into your gown.”  He caressed my cheek gently.  “Thank you for rescuing me.”
I tried to feel it through the velvet of the pouch as I stowed it…paper?  Around something hard?  His caress distracted me.  “I can’t believe you got caught.”
“Perhaps it is time for me to retire.”  He held out a hand.  “Shall we?  We did not get to dance properly last time, and tonight, we have time to kill.”
I let him lead me out on the floor.  His hand on the bare skin of my back was warm, intimate.  He’s held me close before but this is different…my breath still came faster, heat still pooled in my belly at his touch, feeling his body move against mine, but it felt like home just as much as it felt like lust.  Would he move this smoothly, if we were alone in his bed?  Would be be this gentle, but this firm as he lead me?
“How…”. I shut myself off.  I had been about to say, “How do you fall in love with a Thief?”
“How do I plan to take it?”  He tapped his forehead to mine gently.  “You know better than to ask.”
“Well.  She has four guards around her everywhere she goes.  She’s never alone — someone is always talking to her, always saying something.”
He turned me gently in his arms, and now I was back to his front, as they continued dancing to the music.  His cheek was pressed against mine, and I felt the bristle of his beard.  “They’re all men.”  I said softly.
“Good.  Good.  And see how much she drinks?”
I spin away, his hand gently guides me back and we are face to face again.  “That can’t be it.  That’s too easy.”
“Sometimes it is.”  His nose brushed mine.  “Enough talking.”  He kissed me.  I stopped right in the middle of the dance floor.  The world was spinning, but I was still, tucked up against him, his mouth exploring mine, his hands pulling me close.  When I opened my eyes I realized he’d guided us off to the side, in a shadow created by one of the pillars that lined either side of teh room.  He looked down at me, as if trying to say something, then sighed, closed his eyes and placed his forehead to mine, cupping my face with both of his hands.
“Will you ever tell me your name?”  I whispered.
He pressed his face against my neck, I felt him smile.  “Maybe,” he said softly.  “Or perhaps you should make one for me.”
“I’d rather know yours.”  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he started kissing my throat.  I was pretending to keep my eye on the mark, but failing.  “Stop distracting me…anyway…I am tired of calling you The Thief in my head all the time.”
He looked up.  “Really?  Is that all you call me?”
“Yes.”  I drew it out.
“Liar.”  He said, and kissed me on the nose.
“This is not what I expected.”
“And what did you expect?”
“Well.”  I played with the satin lapel of his jacket.  “I thought you’d drag me off to some quiet corner and have your way with me.”
His hands closed in on my waist, and squeezed.  “Is that you want, my darling?  To hide somewhere and taken so passionately that I need to keep my hand over your mouth to stifle your moans?”
I looked up at him.  “Sounds lovely.”
His mouth twisted into an oddly alluring smirk.  “Well.”  He said softly, leaning closer.  His eyes dashed a quick glance over my shoulder, and his frame sank.
“Is she heading for the restroom?  Already?”
He nodded.
I held up a finger.  “Hold that thought.”  I moved through the crowd, muttering about woman and their humming bird sized bladders.
I went in.  There was an attendant, the black cloth of the uniform shirt a little too snug around her arms and shoulders.  She was built like an amazon, and I thought, That is not coincidence.  I used the restroom, washed up, and was checking my makeup as my mark approached mirror.
My body was between the attendant and the mark.  Could I do it?  Dared I?  “Excuse me…the clasp of your necklace looks undone…”. I reached over to fix it, thankful that she had worn her hair upswept.  The fake was palmed in my hand.
“I’ll see to that,” the attendant said, pushing me aside gently.  “It looks alright.”  Her tone was less gentle this time, and she frowned at me.  The Hapsburgh Princess — the papers said her friends called her Norri — gave me a glare in the mirror, then kept fixing her face.
“Must have been a trick of the light.  I’d hate for you to lose your necklace, it’s really pretty!”  I backed to the door.  “See you around!”
He was leaning against the wall next to the door.  “Attendant?”
“How’d you know?”
He put an arm around my waist.  “You need work on your poker face, my love.  Which is a shame, because our next shot at the jewel is during the poker gamethey have set up for later.”
I let him lead me away.  “What?  You think to get her to add it to the pot?”
He shrugged elegantly.
“Oh, come on.  Tell me.”  He lead me to a balcony, overlooking the city.
“I have a plan.  You know how to play, right?”
“I do…I am adequate, but…”
He handed me a card.  “This is so you can join the game.  The chips have been purchased.  Just collect at the end and cash them in.”
“What happens if they figure out that I’m your accomplice?”
He reached over and tucked some hair behind my ear.  He looked very sad, in the golden light.  “They won’t.”
I cupped his face in my hands.  “Why are you so sad?  What are you going to do?”
He shook himself and gave me a blinding smile.  “Nothing!  Everything will go according to plan.  Now…”. He sat down in one of the wicker chairs on the balcony.  “Come, let me hold you for awhile.”  He unbuttoned his coat with careless flicks of his fingers, then looked up at me, held out a hand.
“Well.  We do have to kill an hour…” I sat down carefully.
“Shhh.  Give me your whole weight, my dove.  None of this awkward half sitting, eh?”  I shifted as his arm closed around me, and he traced my jaw with his knuckles, and kissed me.  His mouth was hotter and sweeter than sin, I shifted to get closer, pressing my chest to his.  I ached to be touched, as those soft lips met the skin of my neck, nipped and licked, burning a path that made me moan softly.
“That’s it, my beautiful girl.”  He whispers in my ear.
“What do I have to do to get you to tell me your name?  Just the first.  Lie.  It’s fine.  Just tell me…”
He’s playing with the strap of my gown, he’d been in the process of pushing it aside.  “I will not lie, not to you, not about that.  But I have promised myself — I will only tell my name to the woman I love.  The woman I want to…”. He cut himself off and looked at me.
“Alright,” I gave him a brave smile, trying to cover the hurt.  “Tell me something else.  Anything.”
He ran his hands up my arms.  “That you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
I let him pull me back, kissed him.  “I love you, but I know nothing about you, and I hate myself for it.”  I whispered in his ear.  His hands stilled and I slipped off his lap, made a point of looking through the glass door.  “Ah.  It looks like they are opening the poker tables.  See you there?”
The angle I was at, I couldn’t see his face.  I kissed the top of his head, enjoying the feel of his soft curls.  “It’s OK.  It really is.”
And I went inside.  I heard him follow, but like Orpheus, I did not dare look back for fear of losing everything.
In this case, everything was my sanity, my will not to start crying, not to berate myself…You know, no-strings screwing could be a ton of fun.  I felt a bit like Anne Boleyn, leading Henry the 8th of a merry dance to get what I wanted…knowing full well he could kill me if he felt like it.
I knew he wouldn’t kill me.  But I knew he’d probably leave me.  Maybe that was why he looked so sad.  Could the world’s greatest thief feel regret?
He across from me at the table.  There was another guest, then Norri, the mossy green diamond glowing.  I felt an unreasonable hatred for it, for her, for the whole place.  For diamonds worth millions but still not as unattainable as one Thief.  Hell, the moon would be easier to get.
Another man, me, the dealer.  I ran my hand over the tray that held my chips, the rough edges cool against my palm.  If I walked out with this tray I could get home.
We started playing.  I was surprised.  I expected silence, quiet desperation…but no.
The table wanted to talk about love.  LOVE.  I threw in some chips.
“I have been in love exactly three times in my life.”  The Thief said idly, accepting new cards and inspecting his hand.  The pile of chips in front of him was respectable, but not gross.  He was winning just a little more than he was losing.  Me?  I was annoyed and out for blood.  “The first one poisoned me.”
“Really?” Norri was fascinated.  So, of course, was I.  “Why?”
He nodded and threw some chips in.  “Difference in opinion about how to run the family business.”
“The second?”  I asked, despite myself.
His eyes flickered down to his cards.  “I made her sad.  She could not bear me, the way I am.”  He gave me the sweetest of smiles.  “It happens.”
“I’m calling.”  Norrie says.  “And you must tell me the third?”
We paused to show our cards, or not.  I had a full house, and won, scooping my chips in.
“She is the one I love most.”  The dealer was dealing cards again.  “I did not know how much I loved her, when I first met her I saw a beautiful woman, inside and out, underappreciated, stuck in a cage when she would be so much more.  I thought, I could give her a way out.”  He grinned.  “Vanity is one of my many, many vices.”
Everyone laughed.  Except me.  He reached over and took the cards from the dealer, despite the man’s protests.
“I wish I could start over,” he says, shuffling the cards.  He looked into my eyes.  “But it is almost midnight, Cinderella, and the fairy tale is over.”  I realized the backs of the cards were different…when had he changed them?  “I am so sorry,” he said, and raised his hands, and rained the cards over us.  The power went out, and the cards, as they flew into the air hissed and spat, flaring with fire for a second before becoming sparks and ash.  Norrie screamed next to me.  I felt a touch as light as feathers for the briefest of seconds.  A kiss on my temple.
And then the lights came up again, and the greatest thief was gone again.
I was searched…we all were.  The fake necklace was gone, but this time it was me who hid it in a small panel I’d found while cleaning.  The going away present he’d left me, the little pouch, was well hidden in my dress, so I was snot surprised that they did not find it. They also did not find the playing card.  I found it later, where the first card was.
The Queen of Hearts.  I never knew that looking at a playing card could feel like a kiss and a slap at the same time.
I traded in my chips.  I took my money.  I walked out the door, and thought, I am done with all of this.
There were no more diamonds.  No more clues to follow.  A black car was waiting outside.  I quickened my steps, wondering, hoping.  The door opened, and all hopes were dashed.  My brother came up to me, looking…relieved.
“Are you alright?”
“I am.  I failed.  So maybe not for long,” I joked.
“It’s time for you to come home.”  He looked so serious.  “No one’s mad…we just miss you, and this was good…you had fun, we tried to get the diamond back, but…enough is enough.”
“I hate to give up now…”
“It’s OK.  Just come back.”  He gave me a tentative smile.  “Where else are you going to go?  It’s your home.”
“I have options.”  I said.  I hugged him…it was as stiff and welcoming as I expected it to be, so it was short.  “I think…I think I’ll take a rain check.”
“Dad’s frozen your cards…”
“I know!”  I said cheerfully.
“What are you going to do?  I don’t understand…I…”
This time, I petted him, and my “I know” was far more serious.  I could never make him understand.  He was as much a prisoner as I was, but no one saw enough in him to show him a way out.  I started walking.
“Did he seduce you?  Is that what this is?”
“Sadly, no.”  I said over my shoulder.
As I walked, I took the pouch out.  Under a street lamp I looked at it.  A signet ring.  Heavy.  Old gold.  I held it up to the light, and etched in the blood red ruby was a little devil’s head.
I knew where he was.
And I knew his name.  I’d seen it — and the little sigil from the ring — enough times, researching the Midas’s Rainbow.
There is, if you know where to find it, a castle.  It overlooks a formidable bay that had been the bane of many a ship, in the old days.
It looks abandoned.  The land for a good distance around it is private, and it is very hard to get to.  People at the closest town will tell you it is haunted by a man who sold his soul to the devil, and that he has lived there for hundreds of years.  That his castle has a vault full of cursed treasure.
There are people there who will tell you the story with an almost mocking twist.  And you — and I — both know that these are the people who have been paid, and paid well.  To spread the legend.  To bring in supplies.  To try and dissuade lone women from walking the long, rutted path into the woods, to climb past rocks to the lonely castle over the ocean.  To approach it, the red painted drawbridge bound in black iron.
There’s a door, set in the drawbridge.  The knocker looks like the heraldic devil’s head in the ring I wear on a chain around my neck.  No one answers my knock.
It does look abandoned.  Quiet.  But I hear a song, sung softly, and I walk around until I am in a garden.
I call his name, and when he turns, he laughs, a sound of relief as much as pleasure.
I drop my bag, my purse, and throw my arms around him.  He crushes me to him, and I can barely whisper his name, over and over, and that I love him, I love him.
“Welcome to your home, my love,” he says, in a pause between kisses, “Thank you for coming to find me.”
The End.
(Unless the actual commercial gives me thots)
With extra, most loving thanks to the people who have been following this and loving it:
Thank you to you lovely people for being on my tag list, if you want added or dropped just let me know.  <3
@grogusmum @mishasminion360 @hnt-escape @littlemisspascal @pedro4ever @writteninthestars18 @fromthedeskoftheraven @sharkbait77
@quica-quica-quica @eri16 @the-blind-assassin @ayoungpascallover-readings @songsformonkeys
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Questions and Answers about your OC
From the perspective of your OC (if you want). Do this as many times are you would like to and answer as many as you would like!
I was tagged by @sosa-royals, who will love whose answering this. And I'm gonna tag @simsroyallegacy @bridgeportbritt @thehammondlegacy and @royalhouseofcarrington and anyone else who wishes to have fun with this!
And in Honor of sosa tagging me the person who is answering this is Edmund, the 11th Duke of Bordeaux and Sosa's favorite 😂
1) What is your favorite sport?
I love boxing! And polo...but polo is just really involved so I don't do it all the time plus it's really like a...rich person thing? But boxing doesn't need a whole lot ☺
2) What is your favorite color?
Its a toss up between green and blue. Blue is cool cause of the sky and it blue just makes things look so big but also green cause of the grass and stuff.
3) What is your favorite movie?
Um....I really like all the Henry Puffer movies...I can't pick a favorite...but I do also watch Pride and Prejudice alot with my twin....and it's okay
4) Taken? Single?
Very...very single....uhhh...girls are....alot and plus...i have to deal with randos taking pictures of me...and it's awkward as hell
5) What would be your perfect day?
Um...probably sleeping in and then getting some coffee before sitting on a couch with a stack of books and a bunch of snacks! And no imperial duties! For the whole fam! and We are all just sitting with books and snacks!
6) Are you a night owl or an early bird?
Uhhhh night owl? I dunno...i like to go to bed early and stay in it as much as possible
7) Do you think you're smart?
Uh...I don't think I am? Other people think I am though...
10) How do you like to be comforted when you are sad?
Um...hugs...and fluffy blankets...preferably right out of the dryer
11) where do you want to be in 5 years time? Hopefully in college! School was rough right now cause I couldn't focus due to the paparazzi being everywhere...one of them was in a tree near my dorm!
12) Do you have any regrets?
Um....not getting her number
13) Who are/is your best friend(s)? Um, my best friends outside my family are Chase and Owen! They are such a handful but they don't rat me out. Other best friends are my twin and my older brother Felipe
14) What was your dream last night?
Uhh....that's private...
15) Who in your family are you closest to?
I'm close to Felipe, though I'm also close to Mama K...Bella and I are getting closer and closer all the time though!
16) What is one thing people don't know about you?
I wish people would see me as more than just the kid the Emperor adopted
17) Best present ever given to you?
The police bringing my twin home!
18) What is your favorite food?
Grilled cheese....or mac and cheese....or a burrito with a side of queso...
19) Earliest childhood memory?
playing in the snow with my twin!
20) Do you have a crush?
Uhhhhhhhh....mayyyybbbbeeeee....
21) If you could live in a different period, which one would it be?
The Rocco! the art is super cool....I just don't wanna wear a wig
22) Any nicknames? Ed...eddie...Bordeaux...Bord....
23) Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert!
24) Favourite book? Ummm....Henry Puffer Series! It's amazing
25) Hobby?
Reading and making cake with Mama K...we really should do that again
26) Beach or pool?
Beach!
27) First kiss? Uhhh...welll.....haven't done that yet...
28) Favourite subject English!
29) Age I'm 14 almost 15!
30) Full name Edmund Jeffery David Bordeaux, 11th Duke of Bordeaux, Earl of Savion and Baron of Milen.
31) Pets? Yes! My Godma Mins [HIH Princess Minerva] got me a Husky I named Henry
32) Age (if they have one)?
he's about 1
33) Fave song?
Mr. Brightside by the Killers
34) Where do you live?
Pierreland
35) What/who do you miss? Right now I miss my twin cause I'm traveling and I miss Felipe cause he got sent to the Naval Academy cause he can't keep his temper down...and I dunno...can you miss someone you barely met?
36) Which school(s) do/did you go to? I go to Bordeaux Preparatory Academy and Boarding School in the Duchy of Bordeaux
37) Favorite food Uhhh...you already asked me but I also like coffee!
38) Tattoo? Nope...can't get one without asking Papa and he's gonna say no...now someone else in this family got one....
39) Done anything illegal? Nope
40) Fav TV show? Good Eats! That guy is great with food
41) Do you know any celebrities? Yeah...sorta?
42) Dreams/wishes? I just wanna be loved.
43) Are you very competitive? Yes...but I'm mildly competitive compared to everyone else...Henri is the least competitive one while Maria Aisha, Felipe and Papa are super competitive!
44) Greatest gift (could be a physical gift or a spiritual gift)? Family
45) Greatest accomplishment? Gaining a scholarship for boxing!
46) If you were stuck on a desert island, who would you be stuck with? Uhhh...my twin? though she'd rather be stuck with her boyfriend...
47) Zodiac sign I dunno...
48) Where were you born? St. Celeste Hospital in Windensen Pierreland
49) Sexuality?
I'm pretty straight
50) What color are your eyes? Brown
51) What color is your hair? Black
52) Do you want/ have kids? Yup! I want as many kids as my future wife will let us have
53) when is your birthday? January it's none of your business
54) Current mood? Happy...chill...a little annoyed that all these questions are long
55) Do you send goodnight or good morning texts to people? Not really....
56) What do you want to be when you grow up/ what is your occupation?
I want to be a pilot!
57) How long do you sleep for? I don't count but its long enough to have 5 alarms
58) How long does it take you to get up in the morning? uhhhhh a while cause beds are warm
59) How long does it take you to get ready? Not really too long...cause I'm running late all the time
60) Meyer Briggs personality type? ISFJ
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