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starkwlkr · 1 month

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love in las vegas | mark webber

through the decades masterlist

Las Vegas, 1967

Mark didn’t know why he even agreed to accompany his friends to sin city. He would much rather stay in his cosy bed and sleep, but he knew how much the trip meant to his friend, Tom, since it was a bachelor party.

“Think we’ll get lucky tonight?” Tom asked Mark as they walked the Las Vegas strip. Tom had talked all day about going to the casino so he was more than confident that he would be walking home with a few hundred dollars.

“I don’t want to jinx it.” Mark chuckled. Soon the group of friends found themselves in Caesars Palace. Mark never imagined himself at such a fancy place like Caesars Palace. He always thought it was for big name celebrities like Paul Newman and Audrey Hepburn.

Still he was here to enjoy time with his friends.

“Hey, I think I’m going to check out the rest of the building. I heard the pool is pretty nice.” Mark said to the group, but no one heard him since they were too busy on the slot machines.

He walked away and found himself wandering around. He wasn’t sure what direction the pool was located in so he kept walking and admiring the art work on the walls. That was until a sweet voice caught his attention.

“Honestly, Mary, why can’t I go alone? I’ve done it once, I can do it again. Fuck what the press thinks, they already think I’m a bitch!”

Mark watched as the most beautiful woman in the world walked down the hall. She had on red heart glasses and wore a shade of red lipstick that Mark loved. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her until he almost bumped into a wall.

“Mary, I’m going to be by the pool. All this thinking is making me stressed and I can’t be stressed.” Mark didn’t want to seem like a stalker, but he was going to the pool either way.

He watched as you were greeted by every person as you made your way to a cabana. You took your sunglasses off and laid on the lounge chairs.

Go talk to her . . No, she’s busy. . But it can’t hurt, right? It might! Think positive!

His inner thoughts were stopped when you called for him. He looked around thinking you were calling someone else, but he was proven wrong when you pointed at him.

“You are talking to me . . ” Mark nervously chuckled as he approached your cabana.

“Well yeah, you look lost.” You laughed. “You have an accent. I take it you’re not from here.”

“No, I’m from Australia. I’m just here with a couple of friends. They’re in the casino.” Mark explained.

“You can sit down, I don’t have germs.” You joked when you noticed that he was still standing. So Mark sat in the lounge chair across from you. “How are you liking Vegas?”

“It’s loud that’s for sure. It’s . . . perfect for those fancy rich celebrities. Especially those actors like that guy from to kill a mockingbird!”

“Gregory Peck? He’s lovely. Wonderful kisser too.” You reply with a smirk.

“What? Is it like a rumor?”

“No, I speak from experience. It was also lovely to work with him. He invited me to his house in California. I declined, but it was still nice of him to invite me.” You recalled the time your friend had invited you to his California home.

“Wait . .” Mark thought for a second. “You’re —”

You nodded. “One of those ‘fancy rich celebrities’ except I don’t come to Vegas often. I’m only here a couple hours. You see, I am supposed to be on a flight to Santa Monica for the academy awards, but I wanted to spend some time here. I like it here, it’s one of the few places I enjoy.”

Mark instantly felt like an idiot. He didn’t mean to insult you. Well then again, he didn’t know you acted. He hardly watches any new movies anyways. He had been busy with racing.

“I never asked you your name.” You said.

“Mark.” The Australian replied.

“Well Mark, do you want to explore Vegas with me?”

Mark didn’t have to think twice. You took him to your favorite restaurants, took pictures with your Polaroid and walked the strip until your feet ached. But there was one final stop that was a must do when you’re in Vegas.

Graceland Wedding Chapel

Was it a stupid decision? You and Mark didn’t think so.

That night, you had married a nice stranger.

“I can’t believe that we just got married!” Mark said as you walked out of the chapel with the certificate in hand. “Holy shit, we’re married!”

“Call me Mrs. Webber.” You held out the hand that Mark had been holding. The Australian grabbed it and kissed it.

“I think this is the best night of my life.” Mark sighed. “Wait, that makes my life sound extremely sad. Don’t listen to me.”

You laughed. “It’s okay. This is the best night of my life too and I’ve been to so many places, but being here with you is my favorite.”

As Mark leaned in to place a kiss on your lips, you gasped and pulled back. You had completely forgotten about the academy awards ceremony that you needed to attend in a few hours.

“I need to go! Wait, you need to go with me too!” You said.

“What? I can’t!”

“Why not? We just need to get to Santa Monica, get you a suit and get to the ceremony. I’m nominated for best actress!”

Best actress? You couldn’t miss that!

“Fine, but if my friends find out I ditched them—”

“They won’t notice you’re gone, I promise.”

Mark grabbed your hand and together you ran to the parking lot where his Porsche had been parked. Before you could get the chance, he opened the door for you and gave you a charming smile.

“Mrs. Webber.” He winked.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Webber.” You blushed.

Soon, you and Mark were on your way to Santa Monica. Mark had rolled the windows down and turned up the music. It was perfect. You could feel the cool air going through your hair, the sweet sound of ‘I think we’re alone now’ by Tommy James and The Shondelles filled your ears. Mark kept glancing at you every chance he got. In his eyes, you were the love of his life. He was a firm believer in soulmates and here you were in the passenger seat of his Porsche. You were living proof that love at first sight existed and he was head over heels in love with you.

The four hours it took to get to Santa Monica, you and Mark talked, sang and you even got a few minutes to nap. When you arrived, you took Mark to get a suit. Mark had only wore a suit a handful of times. He hated wearing them as a child, but now they weren’t too bad.

“What if I get asked a question?” Mark asked. “I don’t know anything about movies or actors!”

“Relax, i lie when I don’t know stuff. It’s fun.” You smile.

“It’s easy for you, you’re an actress. Wait, what if someone asks who I am to you? Don’t you have to talk to your manager or someone important before you say something?” Mark was too busy stressing while you were busy thinking how you were going to celebrate even if you didn’t win.

“Tell them the truth. You’re my husband, is that a bad thing?”

Being married wasn’t a bad thing, especially if you were his wife, mark thought. He would marry you everyday of his life if he could.

“I’ll scream it from the highest rooftop if I have to.” He kissed you.

After giving the cashier his last fifty dollars for the suit, Mark drove you to the Beverly Hills Hotel where your manager and makeup team were. He had never stepped foot in such a fancy hotel like the Beverly Hills before, sure he was in Cesars palace not too long ago, but the Beverly Hills was an upgrade.

You eventually made it to your room and entered the suite. Again, Mark was amazed by every little thing from the painting on the wall to the fluffy pillows. You honestly found it adorable.

“Where have you been?” Your makeup artist, Alexander, asked you.

“It’s a long story. Alex meet Mark, Mark meet Alex. There, we’re all good on introductions for now.” You smiled as you sat in the makeup chair.

“Where did you find him?” Alexander questioned as he got started on your makeup.

“Vegas. He’s Australian and he’s technically my husband. I’m Mrs. L/n-Webber.” You stated confidently. You were living up to the title now.

“What!?” Mark stood beside your chair not knowing if Alexander hated him or not. He wished he was anywhere else.

“Relax, we won’t say anything about it to the press.”

And that was the biggest lie. Well, sort of.

By the end of the night, Mark was introduced to most of the biggest faces in Hollywood. He got to walk the red carpet and posed for pictures with you. He also got to witness you win your first academy award where you publicly declared your love for him.

“Lastly, I want to thank Mark. These past few hours have been the craziest, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” You spoke into the microphone as you held your golden statue in your hands.

Mark was seated beside your manager, Henry, who was thankful the night was almost over. Little did Mark know that his friends had been watching the ceremony in their Vegas hotel room. Some of them were still drinking while others wondered how Mark even got an academy award winner to marry him.

The Australian smiled as you left the stage. This was certainly an interesting night that nobody would forget and nobody did. You and Mark stayed married. While Mark raced all over the world, you worked on numerous films and won awards. During the summer of 1969, you gave birth to your first child, a girl named Diana. Then four years later, your baby boy was born. Little Michael Webber, a spitting image of his father. You were in love with your little family even if it all started with a wild night in Vegas. You wouldn’t change any of it.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mark webber fluff #actress!reader #through the decades series

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throughthebluesea · 7 months

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home.

pairing: bada lee x reader

genre: just warmth. fluff. heavily based with reese lansangan's home. (highly suggested to listen to it while reading this.)

den's notes: just... warmth... all over. i am in love with this idea of bada being such a domestic girlfriend. 😩 makes me fall for her more, and more. aaaaa. again, this isn't proofread, so apologies for the errors. i hope everyone enjoyed this!

you wondered what type of day it is today. you were late at work, got scolded by your superiors, and finished a lot of backlogs that your superiors dumped on you. at this point, you're looking up at the dull white ceiling from your cubicle.

what did you do to deserve this, you thought to yourself. soobin, your work colleague and friend, would smile apologetically at you while gently patting you on the back.

it's like her way of saying that you need to endure. both of you are all in this together, in this hell called your workplace. you let out a soft sigh, but as you look down, your eyes stop at the blue metallic picture frame on your desk. it's like the only item in your desk that has color, like a lively thing on your dull work desk where all things are in grey and muted green shades.

it was your picture with your long-time girlfriend, bada. it's a photo you took on one of those self-made photo studios you two visited on one of your dates. she does dance instructor for a living, and you met her through a mutual friend of yours.

audrey, an exchange student, and your friend insisted you accompany her to one of her dance recitals. bada happened to be there, as one of the instructors and performers. when you two met, you just clicked right away. it started with simple dates, until another date followed. a few months later, she confessed and asked you to be her girlfriend.

you eventually moved into her apartment, and she usually stays in whenever she doesn't have schedules. as much as she tries to convince you to leave your current job, you would retaliate that the pay is good, and you can’t find another work like that, despite the workload that corresponds to such amount of salary. bada was worried, but she accepted your decision.

going back to reality, just the sight of your picture with her, the tiredness dissipates somehow. it gave like a sense of driving force to endure the long hours at work.

time out: 7:30pm. you dragged your tired ass out of the building. the ride home was equally stressful, too, knowing that you got out during the rush hour. pretty much, you're worn-out that you even forgot to inform bada that you're on your way home like you usually do.

when you entered your shared unit, you removed your flat shoes, and removed your blazers. when you looked up, you find bada standing by the living room entrance. without saying anything, she takes your bag from your body and gently brought you in further.

she would ask how your day went, and you would rant about the crazy things that happened to you in your workplace. she doesn't react as you tell her, but you can see how her face distorts when you mentioned something bad that happened to your day.

"let me take care of you, then." bada says softly, then she pulls you inside your bathroom. she prepares the bathtub for you to bathe in. and waited for you to finish and wrap the fluffiest towels that she has.

bada prepares your nighties in advance, and once you've changed, she takes you to the kitchen area where dinner is prepared. you two sat side by side and enjoyed the hearty meal she prepares for the two of you.

she even insisted that she will be the one to clean everything after, and not letting you move or do any chores. and there you felt your gaze soften as you looked at her back while she cleans the dishes.

your heart swelled at how she takes care of you. she never misses everytime she knew that you came from a stressful day at work. bada would do anything for you.

after cleaning, she carries your body bridal style and places your tired body down your shared bed with her. bada, then cover the two of you with the blanket and would pull you close to her, hugging you securely in her arms.

"thank you, baby..." you whispered right after you let out a yawn. she would gaze back at you with a small smile, and reaches towards your hair, fixing each fringe.

"anything for you, my solace."

bada leans in to land a kiss on your forehead, and you closed your eyes.

after a long day, you don't have to worry anymore, because at the end of the day, you will be home.

and she's your home.

– fin.

#bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee imagine #bada #bada lee scenario #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #bada x y/n #street woman fighter 2 x reader #Spotify

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

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Crushed 15

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Please scream at me!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

After an early morning phone call, your mother insists on coming to town for lunch. You couldn't bear to tell her everything over the phone and frankly, you don't know how much you should tell her. You remember in high school when you were sent home after Kelly Harris dumped mud in your lap, your mother was more irritated to have you home than empathetic.

You watch through the peephole before you sneak out. You haven't slept but you can't be sure Colin hasn't returned. There's enough noise in the building that it's hard to discern who's coming or going.

When you do emerge, you flit quickly to the first floor and dip out, looking over your shoulder for either Colin or his vengeful girlfriend. You get through the lobby without trouble but you're not in the clear. Surely the day holds nothing but trouble, regardless of where it comes from.

You check the time as you wait for the cab. You refer to the text your mother sent before she set out and give the driver the name of the restaurant. You've never been there before and you're certain it's well out of your price range. Another debt for the tally.

This is the last thing you ever wanted. It makes all this drama seem all the more ridiculous. You’re a grown woman and this is what you’ve come to. Back to square one.

You approach the restaurant doors and enter with a sheepish grin. You don’t know that you own anything that wouldn’t be underdressed for this bougie brunch locale. Once more, you look at your phone. Crap, she’s there first. That means you're late even if you agreed on nine.

The hostess shows you to the table where your mother waits. She has her compact out as she touches up her mauve lipstick. She doesn’t acknowledge you or the hostess as you sit. She snaps shut the mirror and sips from her stemmed glass of orange juice.

“About time,” she drawls, “oh, and nice to hear from you after all these months.”

Her eyes finally deign to land on you. You gulp. You should’ve taken the chance of talking to your father but ultimately you know it’s not up to him.

“You’ve been so busy with Geri’s wedding–”

“Don’t try to guilt me for your neglect,” she warns, “you should be happy for your sister. Her fiance is a charming man. You’ve met Colton, haven’t you?”

“Once or twice,” you grumble. Family get togethers weren’t exactly your favourite memories. “I’ve been waiting on my invite–”

“Invite? You’re a bridesmaid. Geri sent out that email months ago. Is this why you weren’t at the fitting?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t get an email.”

“You’re wrong. Certainly, you must be. You and the rest of the girls are bridesmaids. You have to be. And it might be good for you to be involved in a wedding at least once,” she tuts. You don’t miss the jibe. Yeah, not like you have much hope of walking down the aisle.

“I’ll… I’ll call Geri and clear things up,” you say, “how are the others?”

“Well, Maeve is graduating this year. Always exciting. She’s thinking of joining Audrey at her alma mater. And Livia is somewhere in Spain again.”

“Ah, yeah, she sent me some pictures,” you say.

“And you? What are you up to?” She challenges. She’s not genuinely curious.

“Well,” you take a breath, pausing as a server comes to ask what you’d like to drink. You get the same as your mother and peruse the menu.

“Well…” your mother prompts.

“Yeah, um, I…” you shake your head, you can’t even look at her, “I am on leave from work so… not much.”

“Leave? What does that mean?” She hisses.

You feel your eyes tinge. You look at her. Why is she so different to you? Your other sisters can spill all their worries and whims but you, it’s always judgment. You can never do anything right.

“Uh, I thought maybe it might be a good time to–”

“Ah, pardon,” you’re interrupted before you can sputter out the revelation of another failure. You cringe as you recognise Jonathan’s silky lilt. Why? How? Do you even dare questioning fate anymore? “I just, I had to say hello.”

You force a smile and look at him, trying not to falter in front of your mother’s all-seeing gaze. She sits up, and lets out a hum of surprise as she sees Johnathan. Her lashes give a telling flick.

“Hello?” She utters quizzically.

“This must be one of your sisters,” he says as he runs his hand up the sleek lapel of his blue jacket, “very pleased to finally meet you.”

“Sister? Oh, do not flatter me. I am her mother, Eugenia,” she introduces herself with a smug smirk, “and how do you know each other?”

“Uh, oh,” you stutter and send Jonathan a desperate look. Do you tell her you’re his disgraced former employee? Or maybe just business acquaintance. She’s going to know eventually, that’s why you’re here. “Jonathan is–”

“Jonathan Pine,” he introduces himself, “honoured to finally meet you.” He looks at you, arching a brow before turning his attention back to his mother, “you both must be so excited for your elder daughter’s upcoming nuptials?”

“British?” She intones with intrigue.

“You’ve caught me out,” he grins, “your daughter’s been rather helpful in getting me acquainted with this country. Very lovely…” he peeks at you again, “hardly as lovely as her. You’ve raised a rather endearing daughter.”

“You…” she blinks in confusion, sending you another flabbergasted peek, “you and my daughter…” she lets the suggestion hang. Jonathan does too as he gives you an option; come clean or take the bait.

“I was waiting to introduce you at the wedding,” you blurt out, “I… it’s new.” You say, each word jarring as the lies piece themselves together on your tongue, “and I thought,” you look at Jonathan pointedly, “he was out of town.”

“Business trip was canceled, rescheduled to a business breakfast,” he slithers, “I’m meeting Gerry soon,” he checks his watch, “but I will be sure to tell the hostess to put your bill with mine.”

“Oh–” you squeak.

“Oh my,” your mother trills, “you are too kind. That is…” she gapes at you openly, “you… you’re with my daughter. Her?”

He chuckles lightly, “why wouldn’t I be with such a beautiful woman?”

“I didn’t mean– I don’t– I’m very surprised,” she exclaims shrilly, “she never mentioned, but then again, she’s always been so private. So shy. And you seem like such a lovely man.”

“I like to think so, but please, she is not the lucky one,” he preens and steps towards you. He places his hand on your shoulder and bends, grazing his lips across your cheek, “go with it,” he whispers.

You turn your head just as his lips aim for yours. He kisses you and the air leaves the room. Your chest ties tight and your entire body tingles. Oh, wow. You’re too swept up in the sensation of his unexpected kiss that you can’t remember why you were so off-kilter a moment ago.

“Now let me not interrupt further. A mother-daughter reunion,” he puts his hand to his chest, “how sweet.”

He backs away and dips his chin. He turns on his heel and crosses the restaurant as you stare after him. The server approaches and sets your drink in front of you. You drink it in the silence of your mother’s disbelief.

“Well, you’ve done finely,” she says in a stunted cadence, “I… he’s so handsome. And tall. And blond!”

“Mom,” you plead as you nearly choke on the orange juice.

“Well. Even you must realise he’s very… dashing as they’d say in his home country,” she flutters her lashes dreamily, “oh, yes, you must bring him to the wedding. He’ll look wonderful in the photos.”

You wet your lips with your tongue and nod. You look down at the table, still buzzing as your lips warm up. You can’t stop thinking about that kiss. It nips away at the anger that kept you up all night, but hardly solves your anxiety.

You can’t tell your mother you expect to be evicted in the next month or that you lost your job. So what now? How do you untangle the knot that only grows bigger and bigger?

💗

For once, your time with your mom is less than torturous. She keeps her barbs dull enough to leave you only bruised. Her mood is a touch above neutral, which for you, is an accomplishment. You’re content but not entirely at ease. You have a lot to figure out.

You bid her goodbye just outside the patio seating and wave to her as she unlocks her luxury car. You watch until you see her get in and let out a sigh. Shit. Not only do you have Jonathan to worry about, but you don’t expect Colin to be AWOL much longer.

So what do you do? Go home and face the music or call Jonathan and try not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. It was a nice favour of him to pretend but you don’t want to assume anything. High hopes and stupid girlish fantasies got you into all this.

As you walk along the curb, a short toot draws you to a stop. You turn as the whir of a car window steals your attention and you face the familiar car. Jonathan leans over the passenger seat to see you.

“You’re not going to run away again, are you?” He asks.

You twist your heel into the pavement and bend down. You furrow your brows as that big question needles between them. You can’t lie anymore, you can’t just wait for the truth to come out, you just have to ask.

“How did you know I was here?”

His brows lift and his eyes roll to the side. He gives a guilty grin, “I hope you don’t… misinterpret it but I… staked out your building.”

“What?” You puff out.

“Yes, I know, it sounds very bad. And I won’t claim it was entirely sane but I wanted to see the police take him away after I filed the report. To be sure you were safe and then… I sat stuck in my own head. Wanting to run up those stairs and knock on your door but also terrified you wouldn’t answer,” he shrugs, “and I followed you because I worried you might run into him, but that’s only half the reason…”

You swallow and step closer, “Jonathan, what are you doing?”

“Being crazy,” he lowers his eyes bashfully, “I know, you don’t need two madmen after you.”

You shake your head and reach for the handle. You open the door and get in. He sits back, watching you as you move your purse into your lap. You stare at the dashboard.

“What is going on?” You turn your head and look into his beautiful blue eyes, “what is this?”

“I don’t…” he begins.

“You’re my boss.”

“I was.”

“I never should’ve dragged you into this–”

“I’m so happy you did,” he murmurs.

“Jonathan, please,” you beg, “it’s not right–”

“You quit,” he insists, “so what isn’t right?”

You pout and sit back, turning straight and looking up at the upholstered ceiling of the car. You don’t know what to say. No, you don’t know how to say it. Except…

“I’m stupid.”

“What?” He scoffs.

“I’m stupid because… I’m scared and lost. And I can’t make you follow me through that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Feelings don’t just go, they just get complicated,” you explain, parsing through the stirring in your gut, “I hate Colin, I’m scared to hell of him, but I still… feel some of those things I felt.”

“Oh, but darling,” he reaches over and rests his hand above your shoulder, “I know feelings don’t just go. Mine certainly won’t.”

“Feelings? For me? Are you sure it’s not pity?”

“I only pity myself for how deeply I’ve fallen,” he breathes as you sense him leaning in, “the first day I saw you, I knew. I’ve never been much of a romantic but I have to confess something.”

“What?” You shy away, sensing how close he is.

“I knew how to use the coffee machine,” he admits, “I just needed an excuse.”

“You… did?” You look at him. He’s so much closer than you thought.

“Oh yes, if you hadn’t helped with the machine, I would’ve failed miserably in front of you at making copies. And if that didn’t work, well, I suppose I’d just have to make a mistake in my numbers,” he purrs, “you would’ve helped me, wouldn’t you?”

You quiver out a breath. You want to collapse into him, you want to let him make you forget everything but him, and yet, you’re so afraid. You’re afraid to believe that this could ever be real for you.

He doesn’t let your fear win. His lips are on yours again and that’s all you need. Nothing is left but that moment, the feeling of his mouth on yours, how his hand comes up to frame your jaw and cradle your cheek, his other creeping behind your head as he clings to you desperately. You can’t help by latching onto his collar, diving into his need.

You don’t stop until you're dizzy and breathless. He pulls back, hovering before you, thumb tracing your cheek bone as his other hand tickles your neck. His eyes search you, admire you, you’ve never been looked at like that.

“May I drive you home?” He asks softly, nuzzling your nose with his.

#colin shea #jonathan pine #dark colin shea #dark!colin shea #colin shea x reader #jonathan pine x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #series #what's your number #crushed #the night manager

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blessedwithabadomen · 3 months

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in love with the mess - day three

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff, flirting, the slightest hint of something more smutty

length : 3.9k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3

a/n : hope you'll have fun with this one!! I promise, it'll get into real slutty territory soon enough hehe 💗

•••

day three

With no personal social media to his name anymore (at least none I knew about just yet), Noah had seemingly decided to use my number as an unspoken permission to spam me with photos of his day. It started with a picture of his very sleepy yet very attractive face and a caption cursing out the early bus call. I could only agree, snapping a picture of my own head still half hidden under the covers and sending it back.

Load-in was a tedious task that I only peripherally participated in. Noah seemed to think similarly as a picture of the outside of their bus, cluttered with baggage, followed as well as a “Think they'll notice if I slip into my bunk instead of helping?”. I told him if he did slip away, I'd do the same. Unfortunately it wouldn’t involve the same bus.

“No sleep allowed around here” was next along with a picture of the rest of his band engrossed in a PlayStation game and quite obviously shouting at both the screen and each other. This time I went straight to texting him.

Aubrey No sleep last night either? Jet lag kicking your arse? Noah Jet lag and you Aubrey Excuse me How am I to blame here Noah You really kiss me and then have the audacity to ask that

My cheeks were burning. Quickly looking around the lounge area on the bus, I was glad to see that it was mostly deserted, only the tour photographer was sat across from me, but he seemed busy enough editing that he didn't pay me any attention. My eyes were glued to my phone again the second another message came in.

Noah Still thinking about your mouth

It wasn't just a blush now, it was a familiar tingle between my legs on top of it. Because I'd been thinking about it too. Thinking and remembering and imagining. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his hands on me, his strong grip, the way I wanted to get his fingers everywhere on my body, his mouth, his tongue, all of it.

Aubrey And that kept you up so much you didn't get enough sleep? Interesting Anything else you did instead then Noah You don't know how tempted I was, darling But I didn't need to subject Nick to that

Right. I forgot not everyone was privileged enough to have Oli Sykes fight to get them their own room without having to share. And having been put up with a roommate several times on tours the last couple of years… It wasn't fun for anyone if someone decided to get off while the other was in the room.

Aubrey Well, you could go be alone in your bunk right now There's another two hours until Birmingham, pretty boy I'm sure your mind will occupy you just fine Maybe let you imagine my mouth a couple or other places

I didn't expect what came next. In fact, his next message took so long I wondered, once again, if I'd taken it a little too far. But once again, I was proven wrong.

The picture was dark, so much that I turned up the light on my phone to even get a hint of what I was looking up and when I saw, I almost threw it across the room. Instead though, I opted for putting it in my lap, face down, making sure that I was still alone with the photographer who was still distracted and no one else could possibly see what I was looking at.

Then I turned it back around and studied what was in front of me. It was unmistakable, really. The inside of a bunk, dark, with the curtain shut. A pair of legs in dark sweatpants, bland and impersonal, without any way to trace it back to Noah. And a bulge in the middle of it, so big and obvious and on show, it was almost obscene.

I didn't know how long I stared at his clothed dick, salivating and getting wetter, but I didn't move eyes away until I was certain I was going to go crazy if I spent one more moment trying to imagine what he would look like underneath the fabric without taking a breath.

Aubrey And you have the audacity to suggest I'm the bad one here

•••

Safe to say, I was in a mood. Noah ceased texting back and I was almost glad because I was sure I'd actually end up brain-dead if he continued like that while I was a whole bus away and without any chance to touch him. The thoughts whirling in my head, though, didn't quiet down at all. Not when we arrived at the hotel and I desperately (and unsuccessfully) tried to get at least a peek at Noah, not when we checked into our rooms, not when Oli texted me that he'd be waiting downstairs and calling us an uber for the shopping trip. I made quick work of changing my underwear, terrified of possibly sporting a wet spot when I was supposed to be trying on clothes, and jumped into the car that seemed to arrive at the same time as I did.

“No fake moustache?” I questioned as I slid into the backseat next to Oli. “I'm devastated.”

“Listen, I tried a filter and, well, ya know,” Oli explained, quickly pulling up the picture on his phone and angling it toward me. I choked down a laugh. He looked absolutely ridiculous, a black comic-esque moustache on his upper lip. It didn't help that the filter had somehow also given him a monocle and an old-fashioned top hat.

“Yeah, that definitely would have drawn more attention,” I giggled. “Pulling the hood of your jacket a bit into your face will probably work better.”

He immediately tried, pulling it down so far he could barely see, and I gave him an approving nod.

“Keep your tattoos covered and you'll be fine.”

It wasn't usually much of a problem, really, going out with Oli. Even if there was one or two people recognising him, everyone usually stayed respectful, got their photo or a quick chat, and moved on. But now Bring Me were playing arena shows and the cities were basically buzzing with fans. We didn't need to cause any sort of problem.

“So why the shopping trip then, eh? Far as I can see you got a whole suitcase full of clothes.”

I hesitated for a moment. Then I figured there was simply no use in not being honest with him. After all, looking down at myself revealed nothing but a plain shirt under a jacket and a dark pair of jeans that could be fitting much better.

“Got sick of looking like this,” I explained, motioning to my outfit. Oli had known me for years - surely he had noticed the change too, the lack of styling, the lack of care in my appearance. I was pretty sure I was wearing hot pants that barely covered my bum and fishnets that had more holes than anticipated by the manufacturer when we first met on one of his tours.

“Why, I think your face ain't half bad,” he deadpanned. I had no witty comeback to this blatant disrespect and defaulted to my standard response of delivering a good smack, but this time I was either too slow or had given Oli too much insight into the way I dealt with things because his hand shot up and caught my wrist the second I lifted it. He gave me a look and then gently put my hand back into my own lap. But he didn't let go of my wrist.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of being chosen as your shopping partner for this adventure?” The posh accent he put on almost tempted me to try hitting him again, but his fingers were still tightly wrapped around my skin and I wasn't ready to lose his touch just yet.

“Well, it did seem like a good choice, you know. With the stage fits and your own clothing line and all that.”

Oli hummed in contemplation. “Or maybe you enjoy the idea of me dressing you up a little. Like my personal doll. Wouldn't you like that?”

The way my body heated up and my fingers were getting slightly sweaty told him enough. The smirk that appeared on his face was confirmation.

“Thought so, doll.”

The uber driver announcing the arrival at our destination saved me from struggling to form a reply.

•••

Shopping with Oli was as chaotic as it was confusing. He constantly pulled pieces from the shelves and rails, holding them out to me or pressing them against my body, pretending to judge what they would look like if I wore them, and I was fighting to see the difference between the ones he thought would actually suit me and those he picked for comic relief. It was a fine line that he was treading expertly.

Still, I ended up with an arm full of clothes. If Oli hadn't sweet talked the employee - which, mind, worked quite well in an alternative store as soon as they recognised who they were dealing with - I definitely wouldn't have been allowed to drag all of them into the changing room with me. Being friends with a bit of a rockstar definitely had its perks, even if they were rather boring sometimes.

I was sorting out the pieces, trying to figure out what to start with and what I needed to take off concerning my own clothes, when a message came in.

Noah I'm at interview 528 of 1244 of the day and I am painfully bored Please tell me you're off doing something more interesting

I shot a quick picture of the mountain of clothes I'd heaved onto the little stool and sent it to him as an answer.

Noah How desperate do I sound if I ask for update pictures on what you're trying Aubrey Just the right amount

Putting on a pair of tight jeans and a slightly cropped shirt, nothing too risky, not yet, I took and sent him another picture before putting the phone away to throw the curtain back and present the result to Oli. Unfortunately, the screen decided to light up with Noah's answer right within Oli's field of views. And he had no sense of privacy.

“Are you texting Noah? Wait, are you sending Noah pictures? We need a fucking group chat.”

Who was to deny Oli Sykes. So, just like that, my shopping trip turned into a fashion show and a photo shoot all at once. It started out with the best intentions, really, Oli continuously throwing new stuff at me, tweaking the outfits, talking about accessories to accompany the looks. But as the pile of “definitely buy"-clothes grew, so did his taste for mischief.

It started with a shirt, black velvet, quite modest really, if it hadn't been for the heart-shaped cut-out on my chest. The pointy end displayed the beginning of my cleavage, not too much, but enough to be a promise. As soon as I let Oli see, a cat-like smile graced his face, obviously happy with this choice. Without any words, he immediately got out his phone again and took a picture, angling it just the way so that my tits looked a little more inviting than they did anyway.

“Noah's gonna love this,” he cackled to himself. He wasn't wrong - what followed in the group chat was nothing more than a line of hieroglyphs (in the form of emojis) that vaguely suggests he was enjoying the picture very much. The top wandered to the clothes I was definitely going to purchase. No question about it.

The next shorts-and-top combo that Oli prepared for me featured a massive amount of skin on show, I realised, as I turned the top over in my hands only to see its back consisted of not much more than a handful of thick, flat strings that would be spanning over my skin, almost suggesting a little bit of bondage. Oli immediately ordered me to turn around when I stepped out of the changing room, arranging them just perfectly. His fingers kept tracing over my tattoo, once again, and it was just as exhilarating as it had been the first time. I barely noticed him taking another picture. This time I also got a message back privately, outside of the newly-founded group chat.

Noah That the tattoo you've mentioned? Aubrey One of them

I was dying to show him the others. Anything that would cause me to be in fewer clothes around him.

Noah Stunning

I wasn't sure if he was reacting to the tattoo or the news that I had more to show him.

“Here, try this,” Oli's voice came through, followed by his tattooed hand pushing a skirt into my direction without disturbing the curtain too much. I quickly grabbed it and changed once again. It was only when it was actually sitting on my hips that I realised how awfully short it was. Only, it wasn't all that awful. The red tartan pattern was bright enough that it wouldn’t be missed even in dim light. The hem ended just underneath my arse - as long as I was standing upright. It would only take the slightest movement to enter dangerous territory.

Oli’s eyes immediately trailed over my legs as I pulled the curtain back. It was safe to say, he was very pleased with his choice. I did a little twirl for him, aware of the way the fabric was lifting up, exposing the slightest bit of my lace panties.

Oli groaned, deeply. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work. Not with all the bending down you have to do at your job, right?”

I could see the twinkle in his eyes - but I was sure he could also see the one in mine.

“Oh, no,” I sighed, rather overdramatically. “I guess that might be a problem. Like this?”

Turning around, I quickly checked through the mirror that he was still watching me, and then bend down, pushing my butt in his direction as I felt the fabric lift up so high, it was almost around my hips exclusively. The next few things happened insanely fast - Oli taking a step forward, the curtain being shut again, his hands on my hips, his body pressing into mine. I almost stumbled, quickly placing my hands on the little stool that was still covered in a few pieces of clothing, holding on for dear life as he took the liberty to roughly push his crotch against my ass.

“You’re playing a dangerous fucking game, doll,” he said, his voice lower than I’d ever heard it. I relished in the way the pet name had me squirming. One of his hands moved to my upper back, holding me down, making sure that I knew who was in charge. The other gripped my side so tightly, it gave me an insight to how much self-control he was currently exhibiting in not doing more. “What happened to you, hm? Used to be such a good girl. So well behaved around me. Now you’re just begging for trouble.”

“You did,” I moaned. “You happened.”

It was true. I’d never been prude or shy, really, but we had never been like this. I had certainly never had him push his dick against my arse through a few layers of clothes. I had been crushing on him, yes, but I hadn’t made any moves. Now, everything had changed. The moment I’d seen him again, seen his smile, his physique, the way he behaved around me, something had changed in my brain, fundamentally. It had only gotten worse with every minute I was around him. I wanted and needed him in ways that hadn’t been present before. An overwhelming desire that was begging me to do more, be more assertive, let him know, get satisfied. And he wasn’t refusing me.

“Is that what it is?” Oli teased, the hand that was on my upper back moving again until his fingers reached my hair, grabbing some of it into his fist like a makeshift ponytail and pulling my head up so I’d look at him through the mirror. He seemed terribly pleased at the gasp that left my mouth. “Am I turning you into this? And you love it?”

“Yes,” I replied immediately.

He let go of my hair again and my head almost slumped forward. I watched as he fumbled with the pocket of his trousers, pulling you his phone. He leaned backward slightly, without quite letting go of me, pushing the fabric even higher so everything was on show, his cock still lightly pressed against my almost-bare butt, and snapped a quick picture.

“Can’t leave Noah out of this now, can we?”

Then he was off me and I almost cried out at the loss of his touch. I slowly raised my upper body, just in time for him to open the curtain again and stepping outside.

“Get dressed. We’re buying it all.”

•••

Under immense protest from myself, Oli did, indeed, buy me basically everything under the guise of “work expenses”. I knew there was no use arguing after he’d already handed over his credit card, the stubborn son of a bitch would definitely not allow me to pay him back in any way, so I wordlessly took the bags from the cashier and followed him to where he called us another uber back to the hotel.

It was dark by the time we arrived, January taking no prisoners as the sun went down. All I wanted was to get up to my room, cuddle up in the massive double bed I’d been given, maybe put on a movie, and enjoy the fact that tomorrow wasn’t an early start since we were already in Birmingham for the show. The hotel lobby was buzzing with people getting ready to go out, but one person seemed a little out of place. Oli and I noticed him immediately.

Noah was sat on an armchair in the farthest corner from the door looking, well, a little rough to be honest. We didn’t even discuss it as we walked over to him, me sitting down on the chair opposite, Oli hovering between us, dumping the shopping bags on the floor.

“Sitting here all alone, handsome?” I greeted him. He gave me a smile, but it was obvious that he was feeling pretty beat. Apparently, a day full of interviews and photos and whatever else had made its way into his calender didn’t work well with the last remaining bits of jet lag lingering in his system.

“I was gonna have dinner with the rest of the guys here at the hotel but then they wanted to go out and I realised I’m just much too exhausted for that,” he explained.

Oli moved behind him, placing his hands on Noah’s shoulders and starting to massage them. Noah briefly tensed up at the physical contact, before relaxing and leaning into it with a satisfied groan.

“So you got stuck in the lobby?”

“Kinda,” he said, eyes closed, already drifting into another dimension from Oli’s touch. I couldn’t blame him at all.

“I hope you weren’t sitting here when I sent you those pictures of Aubrey,” Oli remarked. Noah’s eyes immediately flew open again at the memory.

“I was supposed to be doing a very serious interview, actually.”

“How did that work out?”

Noah gulped. “Not that well.”

I felt a blush creeping up on my face. I hadn’t seen the pictures yet, even though they were readily available in the group chat, but I could only imagine what they must have looked like taken from Oli’s perspective. The idea of Noah looking at them when he very much shouldn’t be, maybe getting a little horny in the process, desperately trying to hide it but still checking his phone for more, was delicious. It was tempting to tease him a little further, but he looked so genuinely tired and when his stomach gave an audible growl, it didn’t feel like the right approach.

“So, we’re all in the lobby, we’re all getting sleepy and we’re all hungry. How does a movie night with room service at mine sound?”

Apparently, it sounded great. With renewed energy, Noah grabbed half of my bags, Oli the other, both of them almost at the elevator before I’d even gotten up from my seat.

What followed was a mad scramble to my room, a fight over which movie to watch (we ended up with Jurassic Park playing, somehow) and a lot of confused talking down the phone to reception, ordering just about everything on the menu. I mostly sat and watched, the way Oli and Noah interacted, the way both of them made sure to keep including me, the way they moved around in my room as if it was their own, confident and self-assured.

I looked back and forth between them, currently discussing the blanket and pillow situation, and found that my heart beat the same. I wanted Oli. And I wanted Noah. In the same way and so differently still. This was quickly moving away from “silly crush” territory and into something much more serious. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it yet, but when Noah gave me a dazzling smile, I decided now wasn’t the time to make up my mind.

An hour later, I was close to entering a food coma, watching Laura Dern be dazzlingly fantastic on screen, and trying not to think about the fact that I was squeezed between Oli and Noah on my bed. My thighs were touching theirs - it was simply impossible for them not to - but I suddenly felt self-concious about taking up any more space than that.

Not on Oli’s watch. “The fuck are you fidgeting for?”

I stilled immediately, feeling awkward at being called out. I genuinely hadn’t realised it had even been noticeable. Uttering a quick sorry I slid down a little further on the bed. It wasn’t any more comfortable.

“Jesus christ, just come here.”

Oli’s voice was harsh, but his hands were soft as he pulled me into him. It took a little bit of wiggling around, figuring out limbs and hair, until I ended up with my head on his solid chest, his arm around my shoulders, mine slung over his stomach. My ear was right over his heart. His heart, which was doing double time, in tune with my own.

“Do you need me to leave?” Noah sounded playful, but even without looking at him from my position, I was pretty certain there was a hint of honest insecurity in his question.

“Mate, we need you to join in.”

And just like that, without needing any more reassurance or invitation, Noah plastered himself against my back, moulding his body to mine, carefully placing an arm over me.

I didn’t miss the way Oli’s hand reached for his.

I didn't know how I'd quite gotten myself in this situation, cuddled up between two men who had me blushing, had my heart hammering, had me craving them. Two men who didn't seem to know what they were to each other just yet. None of us having any idea where this was going. What we were trying to get out of this. But right then and there I decided I already loved the mess we were getting ourselves into.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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androgynealienfemme · 1 year

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"When I was eleven or twelve years old, I used to shop in the boy's department at Bloomingdale's, just as the other prepubescent private school girls did. That was where you could purchase polo shirts, Shetland sweaters, and all the other socially acceptable androgynous clothing for our age group and gender. They fit and suited me just fine, but what would have suited me even better was nothing other than an actual suit: the three piece variety mad of thin-wale, beige corduroy with brown simulated leather buttons.

I knew exactly where they hung in the boys' department, and I paid them a visit each time I was in the vicinity. It's funny, but though I can't remember at the time ever seeing a girl or woman in one of these suits, that did not hinder my imagination of what that would look like. Neither did the shortage of real life models ever lead to any questions about why exactly there was one. Somehow I had simply gotten it into my head that such a sight would be wonderful. And, though once again I felt no need to ponder precisely how I knew this, clearly, the most appropriate person to wear such a suit would be me.

Picturing myself in the suit, I was suddenly a lot taller and older and stunningly sophisticated,. The suit seemed to have the almost magical power to make me strong, wise, just. The vision of myself naturally included physical as well as mental capabilities well beyond those of an eleven-or twelve-year-old, but who was I to disbelieve the suit's mystique?

I never tried one on. Although the desire to own one felt perfectly natural to me, it had been met with a mixture of mocking laughter and horror by my mother. Something about her response definitely said, "No." and, "Tell no one." So the suits, like forbidden fruit, remained there untouched by me for years, moved at times from one corner of the department to another, but always just out of reach of my young body's many secret yearnings.

Roughly fourteen years later, as I was walking in the rain, I suddenly realized I was butch. Everything made sense. My butchness came as much more of a surprise to me than my lesbianism, which, despite some years of procrastination on my part as to actually adopting it as a daily lifestyle, I always knew and comfortably accepted.

The way I ever so swaggered and stomped my clunky boots when I walked, and felt sort of proud of it, now made sense. The way I firmly held the umbrella over the woman I love and protected her from the rain as I guided her down the Brooklyn street took on new clarity. The freedom and invincibleness I feel after a close haircut I better understood. The pleasure and vanity I indulge in when I stretch my muscles to lift something that looks heavier than I can manage all at once held new meaning. The childlike glee I feel every time I discover something needing to be fixed in the house and the puffed=up self-importance that fills me each time I fix it had new significance for me. Even my tremendous need for control could now be explained. And my assertive overtures of passion in the dark where I gently bur firmly demand submission most of all seemed to fit.

I gripped the handle of the umbrella tighter and walked along with, I'm sure, the stupidest grin on my face, flashing the woman I love periodic glances of affection as she continued to talk happily, oblivious to the volcano that had just erupted beside her. There, in the rain, as a flood of feelings and enlightenment washed my insides, I had one final glimmer of insight. I at last understood that without ever actually buying the three-piece suit made of thin-wale, beige corduroy, with the brown, simulated leather buttons, I had been wearing one all along."

-"Sweet Suit Suite" Audrey Grifel, The Persistent Desire, (Edited by Joan Nestle (1992)

#the persistent desire #lesbian #lesbianism #lesbian lit #lesbian writing #butch lesbian #butchfemme #butch4femme #lgbtq+ writing #lgbtq+ history

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dellalyra · 11 months

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I'd love to read more about Tsumiki and Megumi (cause yk Gege ain't doing stuff with her, smh) and their sibling bond. We did see Megumi being mean to her in the manga/anime, but I'd love to see your take on their relationship?

A/N: loved writing this sm, I’ve a baby brother so i related to it. this kinda turned into more of a character study nearly so I hope it’s okay!!! I love our siblings.

listen to: i love you so - the walters

moon river - audrey hepburn

𓇬 Safety, in human form. 𓇬

One day Tsumiki was taking care of her babydoll, the next an entire 6 year old and herself.

Her mom had never been great, never really wanted to be there - she did the bare minimum to keep her alive and that was that. Then Toji came into the picture, along with his little boy. She didn’t mind Toji really, he was the one who got her the babydoll the first Christmas he lived with them. She liked megumi too, he was a year younger than her but she could play animals with him sometimes and that was fun. Toji loves Megumi, even if he didn’t act like other daddies at school she saw, in the way he made sure he was okay and helped him not be afraid of the dark by making little shadow puppets. Her mom didn’t really do stuff like that - she didn’t know if she had a dad. Toji would go away a lot, but he’d usually bring her and Megumi a happy meal each when he got back.

Then he left.

And didn’t come back.

Then her mom left.

And didn’t come back.

So - it was just her and her brother.

She was scared, but she was going to be brave. Like Merida, or Mulan. She was going to be brave and take care of her brother. She already knew how to cook easy things, how to tell the man in the bank she’s paying a bill, how to help someone who was vomiting from drinking too much, how to do laundry. She learned from watching TV. She was never scared either, Megumi was the scary one. One day when a man started to follow them on their way home from school, Megumi kicked him where Toji said to Tsumiki you kick a man if he’s being a ‘fuckin’ creep’.

He was angry. She was too. She couldn’t go play with her friends because she couldn’t wear out her shoes too much, and she had to get Megumi home so he wouldn’t start another fight. Megumi helped her with the laundry. She taught him how to cook. She was better at math then him, so she took care of the big envelope of money that Toji had stashed away under a floorboard. Megumi was good with writing, so he signed all their homework and parental slips.

They were brother and sister. They had each others backs. Like Edward and Alphonse.

Tsumiki was going to the store today. Straight after school. So she sent Megumi home with the key and told him to go straight home and lock the door until she got back.

When she did get home - school backpack filled with rice and veggies she could afford - he wasn’t alone. Her heart clenched in her chest.

There was an adult in their apartment. He didn’t look like too much of an adult. Loads younger than her mom or Toji. His white hair was kinda crazy, like Megumi’s and he was wearing sunglasses inside. But for some reason, she wasn’t scared. Megumi was so unsure of strangers, if he was okay with him being here he can’t be a bad guy, right?

“Hello?” She called into the room.

“Hi! You’re Tsumiki, yeah?!” The strange man smiled at her.

“I am. Who are you?” She asked, in as polite a voice as she could.

“A weirdo.” Megumi answers.

“And you let him into the house?!” She responded, pushing her brother behind her.

The adult/not adult just laughs.

“Not that kinda weirdo. He’s just weird. He knows magic like me. We’re gonna go with him.” Megumi shrugs, and she noticed his backpack and a shopping back are half packed on the sofa.

“What? Megumi we can’t just go with strangers, even if they are magic.” She hisses.

“Since Megumi’s just making things worse, how about I try explain?” The man asks.

She eyes him, then nods.

“My names Gojo Satoru. I’m a Jujutsu Sorcerer, like Megumi. I - ehm - knew Megumi’s dad. The thing is, Toji got some money if he gave Megumi to his family - who are not the best people. They would wanna separate you guys. So, I asked Megumi, but I’ll ask you too, Tsumiki, would you guys like to come stay with me instead?” He asks, smile softening. He was pretty, like a prince. He kinda looks like Jack Frost. She thought.

The money was dwindling. There was barely any left. It had been 2 months since her mom left, and she knew she wasn’t coming back. Something told her Toji wasn’t either. She didn’t want to leave Megumi, but they’d starve if they stayed here.

She didn’t really have a choice.

“My girlfriend will be there too, she’s got a brother about your age Tsumiki. We have a cat too.” The man smiles, taking a candy from his pocket and plopping it in his mouth.

“Why do you want to help us?” She says.

“So the magic that Megumi can do? All the monsters he sees? The kinda thing he can do is super rare, and I want him to come with me because what I can do is really cool too, so I could have him learn with me. Then he can learn, you two can stay together, and you never gotta worry about money again. The only thing you gotta do is work hard, Megumi.” He says, and that makes sense to her. Toji used to say Megumi was a special kid.

She thinks for a second.

“Megumi, what do you wanna do?” She turns to her brother.

He shrugs.

“I think we should go with him.” He nods, still frowning.

She turns to the man, Gojo.

“Give us a minute to pack, please, Gojo-san.” She bows, retreating to the place she kept what little items and belongings they owned.

“Call me Satoru kid, I’m only 12 years older than you!” He laughs, she likes that sound.

She smiles shyly.

She packs, ensures Megumi has everything and then steps outside to find a really fancy car. It’s black and shiny, nothings broken and inside has computers and pale blue leather seats. She stretches out in the back seat, admiring everything.

Satoru asks them about school, what grade their in, what do they like to learn, who their friends are. He’s smiley, and cheerful and kinda funny. Megumi is still very guarded, he’s tense beside her. Hands in fists. She doesn’t want Satoru to think they’re rude or bad kids so she does all the talking and all the smiling.

They pull up to what looks to be a school. It’s quite pretty, there’s ponds and plants and lots of buildings. Satoru parks the car and opens the door for the kids, leading them to a building that looks like maybe a small apartment building. He opens the door and they take 2 flights of stairs up and arrive at a door, she notices there’s only 6 apartments in the building from the postboxes downstairs, with a sign that says ‘students prohibited - staff living quarters.’

Satoru knocks on the door, mumbling about a forgotten key and ‘oopsie daisy’.

The door swings open and inside is the prettiest girl Tsumiki’s sure she’s ever seen. The girl is a kinda grown up, like Satoru. H/C hair flowing around you and a pink sweater and loose jeans settling on your body. You were kinda short, standing beside Satoru made that obvious.

She sees your eyes widen and you glance at the man beside her then smile and welcome them in. You offer them snacks, and you hand them each cookies and some apple juice and they both devour them.

That evening, you, Satoru and the two kids go shopping. You let them each pick out some new bedsheets, Megumi picks ones with dinosaurs on them, Tsumiki picks ones with waves on it. She’s always wanted to go to the beach. They each are told to pick out any new clothes and pyjamas they like, but by now Tsumiki is worried about money. You seem to notice this, and you pull her aside saying you need her help picking out a new lipstick, and ask the boys to go grab you all some coffee, plonking a kiss on Satoru’s lips.

“Tsumiki, you seem a little worried - is everything okay, honey?” You say, kneeling down to her height.

“Um, I just need to keep an eye on how much money we’re spending. I have to make sure that we have enough for the rest of the month.” She says, with all the sincerity of anxiety a child shouldn’t have.

Your heart cracks.

“Tsumiki, you’re not going to pay for any of this. Satoru and I are. You don’t have to worry about money anymore, okay? C’mere, I’ll show you something. You know how bank cards work, yeah?” You ask and she nods.

“K, so - this here is Satoru’s card, my names on it too. It’s a black card, which means there is no limit to how much you can spend with it. This, is how much you have to have to be able to get a black card, okay?” You show her the page you’ve opened in Google on your phone. Your family wasn’t wealthy, but the Gojo clan heir lacked nothing. What you’d spend today wouldn’t even be a noticeable change in the figures on the card.

The girls eyes widen.

“You mean it? Because I don’t think we could pay you back.” She shuffles her feet.

“We mean it. If you guys are staying with us, if you still want to, we want you both to be comfy and happy okay?” You say and the girls eyes suddenly fill with tears and in an action so unexpected she flings her arms around your neck and hugs, sniffing her tears in.

After all the basics and essentials are bought, and some new shoes for them both - Nike Air Force like yours for Megumi and lilac converse chuck taylors for Tsumiki, like Satoru’s blue ones, you tell them each to buy a plushy each. You had one as a kid, and any time you were sad or stressed it was your lifeline. Megumi picks a frog, and Tsumiki picks a tiger.

That night, Megumi and Tsumiki are getting ready for bed. Megumi seems to notice that Tsumiki seems on edge, and shuffles into her bed beside her. You had set them up in your spare room, a single bed each, but wordlessly, Megumi climbs under the blanket with his sister, and clutches her hand in his.

“I think we’re safe here, ‘Miki. It’s okay. I can protect us.” He says, before they both drift off to sleep.

6 months came and went, and she fell hopelessly in love with her new guardians. You guys were silly, funny, kinda crazy (very crazy) and so much fun. More than that, you guys cared so much and kept them safe. She heard Satoru laughing one night as you told him how you’d shouted at some old people who said that they couldn’t care for Megumi and her because you two were far too young. You had said they’d been so terrified that they immediately apologised. She quickly realised you guys were strong, and bad people seemed to stay away from you two - like superhero’s. She’d heard people (Satoru included) call Satoru ‘The strongest’ and you ‘The Dryad’, so having superhero names meant you actually were. She decided she wanted to call you mom and dad. Sure you guys might only be 12 years older than her, only recently turned 20 but she felt safe with you two. Satoru made her laugh and rescued them from the Zen’in family, and brought them cool places and kept them safe, and started training with Megumi which he seemed to really like doing, even if he was always grumpy she could tell her was happy. You brushed her hair every night and tucked them both in, you painted her nails and gave Megumi black and green ones when he said he liked Satoru’s (‘don’t tell him I like them though’), you read them bedtime stories sitting in Satoru’s lap and made fun lunchboxes for school and fought to keep them safe everyday. She liked not worrying about stuff, she liked seeing Megumi relaxed. That’s what a mom and dad did, right? She waited until Megumi was playing with Lego in their room one day when she very seriously sat you and Satoru down.

“Y/N, Satoru. Thank you for sitting with me. I don’t want to make Megumi uncomfortable but I was wondering, maybe, if when he’s ready, would it be okay if him and me started to call you guys mom and dad?” She said, hands clasped on her lap, looking like a little lawyer.

You and Satoru immediately burst into tears and said you’d both love it, whenever they’re both ready.

A few weeks later, when Megumi was falling asleep, he accidentally called Satoru ‘papa’ when he was telling Tsumiki about his new frog shadow he had. She didn’t mention it, but she was so happy to hear it. She caught how you looked at Satoru a few weeks later, when after your fight with their school headmaster Megumi called you guys Mama and Papa for the first time.

Megumi couldn’t remember smiling as much as when he woke up one Saturday and saw you and Tsumiki both sitting with your legs curled under you on the living room floor, with Satoru behind you both. You both had towels on your shoulders and Satoru was doing a funny accent with a bowl of pink liquid in his hands. He was applying some of the pink to your hair, and you put a tiny bit in the ends of Tsumiki’s long hair.

“Morning ‘oniisan’! Look, I’m getting pink in my hair to match mama!” She smiled at her brother, and a rare return smile overtook his face. He liked seeing her this happy, and he liked how happy he felt too.

The older they got, the more they forgot how scared they used to be. It wasn’t just them against the world now. They had parents, parents who really loved them. They might not share your DNA, or Satoru’s - but you guys were there for every birthday, every baseball game, every track meet. They had Aunty Koko, and Uncle Nanamin now too. Yaga, and his son Panda came over sometimes too, now that you had moved out of your teacher’s accommodation and bought a cottage with a pretty garden. He and Tsumiki each had a bedroom now, decorated how they want.

Tsumiki scolded him after every fight, the only one to really scold him. Satoru congratulated him when he won, you tutted but then cleaned his wounds and told him you were proud of him for sticking up for other people and he wasn’t in trouble. Even Uncle Nanamin had helped him fix his punch for more effective power.

They both hoped they’d find love like you two had. Tsumiki wanted a boy to look at her the way her dad looks at her mama, like she painted the night sky itself. Megumi wanted someone who supported him and made him laugh like you do for his dad.

On your wedding day, Tsumiki wore a baby blue dress that she had gushed over for weeks, she was a bridesmaid and took her role very seriously. Megumi wore a black on black suit, looking very dashing and surprisingly enjoying being a groomsman with Uncle Nanamin. He grumbled, but truth was he loved his dad and he loved spending time with him.

He sat glaring out the window when they boy taking his sister on her first date arrived, and answered the door when he knocked. He liked that even though he was a year younger, he was taller than the date. He glared at him, but let him in. (His mama taught him manners, Satoru would’ve been happy to let this boy sit on the doorstep). Megumi stood and stared at the boy until Tsumiki came downstairs and skipped out the door with him. He smirked, seeing the boy almost run back outside. Guess all those years of being a middle school delinquent was paying off.

They were 15 and 16 when you two told them they were gonna have another sibling. You told Megumi one morning over breakfast and came to sit with Tsumiki in the hospital that afternoon, and placed a framed ultrasound photo on her bedside table with a card announcing ‘since you’re already the best big sister, how about doing it again?’

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #recommended #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #family formations extras #dad!gojo #family formations au #fushiguro tsumiki #jjk megumi

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thewritingofspencerrose · 3 months

Text

Nico Hischier x Social Media Intern OC

"Hey, can you give my friend over there a big smile?" Jack prompts his buddie, the little boy nodding but simply continuing to smile at Jack.

The perfect photo.

"Thank you boys!" I thank, the little boy blushing brightly as I wave a little at him.

"Can I see the photo?" My buddie asks, a little girl named Audrey who has spent our time together rambling on about how she wants be just like me when she's older. Or, in other terms, stealing my heart that was already weak.

"Yeah, of course," I agree, moving the camera to be in her view where she sits crisscrossed beside me. "Here's Jack who just walked through," the explanation comes with the photo, "And before him was his brother Luke," I continue, scrolling through.

"Oh! Here's another one!" She points out, tapping my leg and pointing to where Nico walks in, holding the hand of another little girl who smiling so bright. He's already waving at Audrey and I, the largest smile on his face as he prompts his buddie to smile at me.

His smile is so bright as he looks at the little girls at our sides, the one at his side rambling on about her hockey game the other day and he's just nodding along, loving every minute of it.

They're walking slow, allowing me the chance to hand my space pocket camera to Audrey to get a few photos as well. You can see how happy is in this moment, and he looks so attractive when he's being all happy protective grizzly bear.

He'll be such a great dad.

And you can blame it on the fact that it's been a long week, that Audrey had warmed my heart up for this moment, or that I'm unfortunately ovulating.

But God I want to make him a dad. Two years in, how have we never had the kids talk.

Nico doesn't know why these thoughts have never flooded his mind before. With no other girl he's dated has he even been tempted by the idea of kids. But with Belle, all he can think as he walks in, half listening to the kids he's with talking about hockey, is how hot it is to see her doing what she loves, camera in hand, with a little girl practically curled into her side babbling about being just like her, God all he wants to do is take her home and make her a mom.

But that can't happen, he has a game to play, she has pictures to take, and they haven't even discussed having kids yet.

___

"It was so good to meet you Audrey, thank you so much for hanging out with me during the game!" I thank, returning the tight hug she's giving me as her parents and older brother stand feet away, smiling down at us.

"Thank you so much for taking her around with you, we've brought her a couple of times before to watch as birthday gifts to Eric," Audrey's mom explains, gesturing to the brother, "But she saw you running around the first game with your camera and that's all she's talked about since."

I want to cry.

Hugging her a little tighter, I pull away, smiling down. "If you ever need a reference, you know where to find me," I assure, standing up and patting the dust off my legs.

"Thank you!" She thanks, smiling brightly and running off, her parents waving with silent thanks as they walk away.

His arms wrap around my waist before I even realize that he's finished changing up, large hands resting over my stomach like he knows where my thoughts have been all night.

"Are you ready to go home, Schatz?" He low voice meets me ear, his lips meeting the point just beneath it.

"More than," unraveling his hands isn't easy, their warmth and strength wanting to remain exactly where they are, but he lets me take his left into my right, his bag resting on his shoulder. A bag he's continuously shifting, and anxious tick of his when his mind is full after a loss, but the boys won. "Neeks, whats wrong?"

His gorgeous eyes look down to me, sparkling with something I don't think I've ever seen before. Nico doesn't answer though, just smiles and pulls open the door of his car, allowing me to hoist myself into the passenger side as he rounds the car, putting his gear in the back seat on his way.

"I've just been thinking about something," He finally answers my question, kicking the car into gear.

"Are you going to key me into what that is?" Neeks is a chronic over thinker, and the last thing he needs is that kicking into gear and allowing him to be off his game.

But he's silent again, one hand moving to its usual place on my thigh and his eyes on the road. It's like this for almost our entire drive, his eyes only drifting to me every once in a while and mine doing the same.

Until the last stoplight turns red just as we approach. I can feel his eyes move to the side of my face before I slowly glance over, that same sparkle lighting up the car as his face glows red in the light.

"You're so handsome," I can't help but mumble, running my hand across his cheek, his head leaning in to my touch.

"I think we should have a baby."

He what?

"I did not mean to say it like that," His wide eyes that were once rested stare.

"Neeks, what are you talking about?"

He' s the one who removes my hand from his cheek, bringing it between his own and kissing my knuckles.

"You should have seen yourself tonight with that little girl, she loved you. Then I looked down to my buddie and heard her talking about hockey all I could think is that I wanted us to have that. A little you or a little me," Is his explanation. "I am aware we haven't talked about this -"

"Neeks all I've been thinking about tonight is that you would be an amazing father," I interrupt, and the shining in his eyes grows.

"It's not nice to joke with the man who said he wanted to put a baby in you, Schatz," those few words and his eyes are darkening.

"I'm serious Nico, you'd be an amazing father," And its as the lust lightens from his eyes that the light turns green, a honk from behind us making us both jump.

"We'll be discussing this more at home," He requests, my hand squeezing his in response.

"You'd be so hot as a girl dad," I decide to chime after a moment of silence, his hand squeezing mine again only to be followed by a low groan.

"Schatz."

as promised, the Nico fic! i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it and always be sure to send in requests if you ever have ideas!

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier #social media management

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months

Text

La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

So, I decided to begin this new little series of mine, besties. It shan't be delivered in regular chapter form, but a series of one-shot parts that will tell the story of John and Cosima's marriage, beginning from their wedding day. I hope you enjoy it :)

Words - 3,682

Warnings - Each part will be adult only content, from swearing to eventual smut and violence. Minors DNI.

Part I - Inferno

The blood of a thousand men could stain a thousand streets, cold, hard warfare spinning out of control in a haze of spatter and gunpowder, yet sometimes all it took was the presence of a woman to end it all.

And it had.

It didn’t mean the woman in question had to like it, though.

“No.” The word fell from his lips with mild irritation as he took in the sight before him. “You will not wear black.”

Cosima didn’t even attempt to hide her distain. “Why not? This is a death, after all.”

Luca couldn’t help but feel entertained by her words, even though she was rapidly whittling him down to his very last nerve. “You are so dramatic, la mia sorellina.” She always had been. “It’s about time you were somebody’s wife, and you will make a good wife, too. Every man betrothed to an Italian woman should recognise how damned lucky he is.”

“And me?” Her cadence rose sharply, her voice bordering on shrill. “What about me, Luca?”

9:23am and already, he wished he’d had the sense to bring some aspirin with him. “You will do as you are told, Sima. And wear white while you do it.”

The silky drawl of her brother never rose beyond the smooth hush he spoke with, but his words packed the same punch as they would have had he yelled them. He was also the only person alive who she allowed to shorten her name. People had called her Cos in school, swiftly ending up with a slapped face for it. Her Italian fire had been lit pretty much since the day she’d been born. “I wish I’d brought mama with me now.”

His lip curled, a soft rumble of a laugh echoing his throat, sucking on the matchstick he pulled from between his lips as he pointed it at her. “We both know why you didn’t.”

“Yes,” she chirped, admiring her reflection in the mirror, “you’re paying.”

Again, she prompted his smile. Few did, really, save Anna Maria, his wife, as well as his sons, Joey and Guiseppe. “I am, cara mia. Listen, if you want the black dress, I’ll buy it for you. You won’t be married in it, though. Imagine if mama was here, eh? She’d be, ah, much more vocal than I about it.”

This was true. Audrey would have taken over rather than sitting quietly like Luca. “I’m beginning to think she’d fuss much less than you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Try on the next dress, for the love of god.”

Huffing and cussing in their native tongue, Cosima flounced back behind the privacy screen, getting herself out of the dress, the nearby assistant helping her into the white lace gown. Her face was a picture of utter contempt upon emerging, raising her middle finger when Luca quietly applauded her appearance.

“Perfect.”

“I fucking hate it,” she sneered, the assistant’s eyes bulging a little at her coarse language.

“Cosima, you would hate even the most exquisite of gowns, crafted by the finest of designers,” he pointed out, standing and walking to her slowly. He reached beneath her chin, raising it up, placing a little kiss upon her forehead. “You look beautiful. La belladonna. It is done.”

His word was final, and she knew this well. It did not mean she had to be quiet or graceful in her compliance, though. Being wed to a Shelby, after all they had done, the war that had seen the deaths of both her treasured brother and beloved papa, was not a fate she relished in.

Negotiations in order to cease the bloodshed and forge ahead in a new bond, running Shelby gin into New York with the assistance of her family and their connections had been sealed by a proposed joining of their families through marriage. Her marriage, to John Shelby.

How she had screamed and complained when Luca had informed her of this truce sealing union. Glasses and ornaments had been smashed in tempestuous fury, Cosima’s ire reaching the kind of decibels that had taken Luca and Audrey much effort and nips of gin to quieten, the youngest of the Changretta clan storming from her mother’s home, walking the streets, chain smoking in blind fury.

The only silver lining? At least Luca had not decreed that she marry the man who had killed her father, not that she actually could. For his sins, Arthur Shelby breathed no longer. Neither did Grace Shelby, nor Esme Shelby, the late wife of the man soon to be her husband, the gypsy beauty getting in the way of a hit meant for John on Christmas Day and lamentably not surviving it.

And Cosima thought her hand dealt was bad. For John, it was decidedly bleaker by far.

His brother was gone, his wife was gone, his sister-in-law was gone, and his fate was now bound to a person belonging to a family whom he couldn’t stand with any ounce of tolerance. Tolerance was what he had to show, though, in order to keep relations smoothed over, before anybody else ended up dead.

“It’s a fresh start for us all, John boy,” Tommy began, standing in front of his brother, straightening his tie. “I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but...”

“Good, ‘cos I ain’t,” he cut in with, his jaw tightening, refusing to meet his brother’s eye. “Esme is barely fucking cold, and you’ve got me marrying some wop bitch. Trust me, Tom. I ain’t fucking happy in the slightest.”

The elder Shelby truly had no comeback for that. He knew his actions were a slap in the face to John, to Arthur, to Esme and to the love of his life, but there was no other way around it. He didn’t plan on losing anybody else to a war that could be negotiated through. It had been tough to bargain, but peace had been restored finally, Tommy reasoning that scores had been settled upon both sides of the divide.

They were more than even. In fact, they truly weren’t, two lives on the Changretta side, three on the Shelby, two innocent women coming into the crossfire and dying because of it. He was not prepared to lose more. If he could also turn a very tidy profit while not losing more, then so be it.

Finally, he managed to catch the icy stare of his brother, Tommy squeezing his shoulders. “Give it time. At least you’re getting wed to an attractive woman. Could have matched you to a right scrag, but I didn’t.”

She could have been the queen of fucking Sheba for all John cared. Her beauty or lack thereof was neither here nor there. She wasn’t Esme, and that was all there was to it. “Gotta habit of this, you have, marrying me off to some bird I ain’t ever clapped eyes on until I get to the altar, all for the sake of keeping the peace.”

There hadn’t been an actual altar at his wedding to Esme, but this time there was no room for negotiation. The priest local to the district Cosima Changretta lived in had been given a hefty bung to marry them, regardless of the fact that John was a non-practising Catholic. Usually, Father David would have required he at least attend weekly mass for a few months prior to the wedding, but this wasn’t possible when the union had been set up to take place within the space of a week from its original incarnation.

Through his disesteem, John wasn’t blind to see the benefits of joining the families in order to broker peace, though. He just wished there was some other way, one that didn’t involve him forsaking his late wife’s memory, or literally getting into bed with a member of the very family who had taken three members of his.

With a red rose buttonhole pinned to his charcoal suit – those specific flowers at Cosima’s request – they headed out to the waiting car, ready to be ferried across Birmingham to the district of Bournville, to St Francis of Assisi.

“Holy shit, the waft of that bloody chocolate," Polly spoke from the back of the car, the famous Cadbury factory emitting the heady scent of it’s delicious confectionary. “Making my mouth water, it is.”

“Well, as long as the air smells like Dairy fucking Milk, all’s right as rain, ain’t it, Pol?” John muttered, watching the little black and white houses dotted along the main road pass them by. It was such a different landscape than the one he was used to, the village of Bournville so very picturesque and quaint.

Polly tutted. “Oi, less of your fucking lip, our John. Don’t make today any harder than it has to be by being a surly shit about it.”

“Yeah, but...”

She cut his protests dead with her usual blunt retort. “We know, for the love of god! You’ve vented your spleen so hard at this, I’m surprised you have one left! This isn’t ideal, but it’ll bring us peace and let me rest my fucking head easy at night, not worrying when the next of my fucking nephew’s is going to end up riddled with bullet holes. Now, put your fucking face straight. We’re nearly there.”

He could have begun his protests once more, vented at how it wasn’t right that he was being thrown into wedlock again just four months after his second wife had died, how at thirty years old, he shouldn’t have already had to attend the funerals of two Mrs. Shelby’s, but he knew it would serve him little good.

Arriving at the church, they made their way inside, John surprised to be greeted kindly by Audrey Changretta, who was standing talking to the verger.

“A lot of water has gone under the bridge, John. All I want going forward is for you to be a good man to my Cosima. Can you do that for me, love?”

His heartstrings were yanked upon hard, knowing how much his actions had devastated her. She looked weary from it all, the sparkle in her eyes non-existent. He’d never wanted her to be hurt in all of this, the teacher he held so many fond memories of, the woman he had steadfastly refused to murder in cold blood. “I can. I promise I will.”

She patted his cheek, smiling thinly. That smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and for that he couldn’t blame her. “Thank you.” She exchanged nods with Polly and Tommy, the Shelby’s moving into the church, smiling to their family and friends as they passed the pews, the Changretta presence outnumbering them by about two to one.

He and Tommy stood to the side of the altar, Polly taking a seat at the first pew between Finn and Ada, the latter giving the groom-to-be a bolstering smile. It had little of its desired effect, John feeling a cold swirl of discomfort growing chillier by the moment. “Forgive me, Esme. I fucking wish this weren’t happening just as much as I wish you were still here, love.”

His deeply lamenting thoughts were banished by the sound of the organ keys pressed upon, the church filling with music as the congregation stood, Father David quickly shaking both his and Tommy’s hands before his focus shifted towards the doors, beaming as he watched Cosima escorted in by her brother. The bride looked exquisite in her white lace gown, her cascading veil shrouding her face, the dress very quintessentially Italian in fashion.

John didn’t dare turn around and watch her walk to him, only aware of her arrival at his side from the strong plume of Chanel perfume entering his nose, finally turning to see Luca gently lift her veil, kissing her cheek and whispering a few words in Italian to her. He then moved to John, surprising him by offering his hand.

“To famiglia, eh?”

“Yeah,” he coughed, shaking it. The Italian’s grip was like Iron, his face unflinching. There was no true warmth there. “To family.”

Luca moved to sit at his mother’s side, John finally letting his eyes fall to his left, taking her in for the first time. His throat tightened in an instant. He’d thought Esme to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, the guilt of the fact that Cosima Changretta was the biggest knockout he’d ever witnessed hitting him hard.

As for his soon to be wife, when her piercing blue eyes found his, the sensation of her heart skipping on three consecutive beats made her feel a little nauseous for a moment.

He was gorgeous.

Why did he have to be gorgeous? It would have made hating him so much easier if he’d been ugly.

“At least I will have something nice to look at, while I’m throwing plates at his head.” She thought, turning to the priest and smiling as best she could, given the circumstances.

The ceremony was a long, tedious affair, the bride wishing for a traditional mass that bored the balls off John. He did well to hide it, though. What he failed miserably at was looking in any way, shape or form happy when they were pronounced man and wife, offering her a chaste kiss to the cheek, a speedy peck of non-affection. Cosima was relieved he hadn’t leaned to her mouth. She wasn’t ready for that yet.

Taking his arm, she walked back down the aisle as the newest member of the Shelby family, her eyes sad as she looked at her mother and brother. They smiled at her with loving pride, Cosima dropping her chin, lest they see the tears in her eyes as she walked alongside her new husband, a man she couldn’t stand. True, she knew nothing of John Shelby, other than what he’d had a hand in taking from her.

With every step, she had to physically prevent herself from gathering the bridal lace swathing her slender curves and running, back to Acacia Road, back to the family home. This was where she desired to be, out in the flower filled back garden tending to her roses, taking cuttings of herbs ready to be brought into the kitchen and tutored by her darling mother in everything from Carbonara to baked Ziti.

She longed for the scents of her mother’s pasta, to hear her father’s key in the door, his whistled tunes filling the homestead as she’d wipe her hands upon her apron and run to greet him. Her papa, the man she loved and respected the very most. Gone.

“You erm, you look beautiful, Cosima.”

His face did not match his compliment, Cosima looking up at her new husband, her face stony. “I know. Shame my dream wedding didn’t come with the dream groom, though.”

John sniffed, his eyebrow tilting a fraction. “Ahh, you might still get it yet. We can get divorced and give it another go with other people. Who knows? I could nail it lucky the fourth time around.”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve been married twice before?”

“Ar.”

“And what the blinking hell happened to them?” she demanded, wondering just what her brother had gotten her into, marrying her off to a man who was on his third wife.

“They died, if you must know,” he frowned, reaching the end of the aisle, the door opening, a cascade of confetti hurled at them from the throng of guests exiting behind them.

“Lucky them.” Her mutter was drowned out by the sound of happy cheers, or at least she thought it had been. Her new husband had heard it, though, wanting nothing more than to slap her in her rude mouth for her coldly delivered statement.

“Great, got myself hitched to a stunner and she’s a right nasty little mare.” he spoke, certainly loud enough for her to hear, releasing the hold upon her arm and moving to receive congratulations from his family. Cosima narrowed her eyes at him in his wake, turning to smile brightly at her friends, her hands taken in theirs, cheeks kissed, her heart thrumming with waves of sadness. A right nasty little mare. That’s what he thought of her, Cosima’s indignance burning brightly for a while, not able to reflect upon the fact that what she’d said had indeed been very spiteful.

At twenty-three, she truly should have known better. With two dead wives behind him and a bitterness that still lingered beneath the surface between the two families, she guessed he was likely as thrilled to be married to her as she was to him. An apology perhaps wouldn’t go amiss.

Once they’d posed for a few photographs, the bride and groom were shown to the waiting Rolls Royce Silver Cloud, John holding the door open for her, following her in and staring stonily out of the window as they pulled away from the church.

She felt awkward and ashamed of her words, moving her thumb back and forth over one of the large thorns the florist had neglected to remove from the bouquet of red roses. “John, I apologise for what I said, about your late wives being lucky. I only meant that... I don’t know what I meant, actually.”

She was met by a cold, two worded statement. “Fuck off.”

Deserved, to be fair. Predictably, Cosima let it spark at her kindling rather than rushing for water, though. “That’s impossible, now I’m your wife. Don’t bloody pout at me. I said something regrettable, but because of your family I don’t have Angel or my father any longer. You yourself are directly responsible for the former. If you hadn’t beaten him within an inch of his life, he wouldn’t have lay vulnerable in hospital, ripe for the plucking. And let’s not forget that scumbag of a brother of yours, who killed my papa.”

He tutted, chewing his toothpick with hostility. “Don’t act like you’re the only one who lost somebody you loved. Fucking gone right over your head, ain’t it? Because of your family, I lost me wife, brother and sister-in-law. We’re in the same boat, Cosima.”

“You started all of this. You could have just let Lizzie be happy with Angel, but no! You had to burn his restaurant to the fucking ground. What is it you dumb Shelby fucks say, hmm? By order of the Peaky Blinders, that’s it! Your way or the highway!”

Bile began licking at his insides. “Your brother weren’t good enough for Lizzie. She’s a good woman, and he was a fucking duplicitous shit. Didn’t even have the balls to use his real name for half his dealings. At least we stand by who we fucking are.”

Her rage escalated by the second, staring at him incredulously. “My brother had the sense to be clandestine, and you will not speak of him like you knew him! So, he partnered with your enemies, so fucking what? The way you Shelby’s conduct yourself, you make enemies left and fucking right! You took my family away from me for nothing. Nothing!”

John eyed her viciously, his eyes losing any trace of warmth. “They fucking deserved it, and you, you spoiled little wop bitch? You deserve nothing less than every fucking ounce of my contempt. We’re married in name only, believe me. Ain’t no way I’m gonna be a good husband to you, no matter what I promised your mom.”

“Fine by me!”

The air virtually crackled with their mutual distain, Cosima shuffling as far as she could get away from him, muttering cusses in Italian.

“I know what testa di cazzo means,” he spat.

“Good!” she fumed, “I want you to know I think you’re a dickhead!”

The reception was being held at a small hotel local to the church, Cosima storming out of the car and not looking back, fixing a huge, fake smile to her face as she was welcomed by the staff. Immediately, her eyes locked onto a waiter carrying a tray of champagne filled flutes, taking one and knocking it back. A second was reached for, John arriving at her side.

“Whiskey please, mate. Fucking large one.”

The waiter nodded. “At once, sir.”

They stood together to welcome their guests, both repelled by one another’s presence, going through the motions of everything. Cake cutting, first dance, spending as much time as they could away from one another. It was while John was seeking the solace of quiet and fresh night air much later that evening, standing on the rear patio of the hotel smoking a cigar, that he found himself joined by the last person he expected.

“Can I give you some advice, John?”

Turning to Luca, he raised an eyebrow, the tall Italian continuing. “If you want a quiet life with my sister, you need to keep her in the lifestyle she’s become accustomed to. I love that girl to her bones, but she’s a fucking spoiled princess.”

His eyes widened. “You can say that again.”

Luca’s mouth twitched, removing the toothpick he’d been idly chewing on. “My father bent to her every whim, being his only daughter. She was daddy’s little girl. Roses, diamonds, furs, French perfume, she loves all of that. You treat her good and she’ll be sweet with you. And make sure she has a garden. That kid lives for horticulture.”

Luckily, he was wealthy enough to provide such luxuries for his new bride, not that he wanted to. Not that she deserved even one of them. “Noted.”

He nodded, turning to leave his new brother-in-law to it, pausing suddenly as he pointed the toothpick in his grasp at him. “Oh, and John? She’s got a thing for hurling plates. Learn to duck.” Laughing to himself, he carried on back into the hotel, while John felt a prickle of annoyance at his statement, or rather how much pleasure he’d derived from delivering the news that Cosima was nothing short of a bad-tempered handful.

Standing out there alone, he did hope that one day he might see her as something different. Whether that day would come swiftly or not was anybody’s guess, though.

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby x ofc #peaky blinders fanfiction #luca changretta fanfiction #john shelby smut #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #john shelby x oc #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic

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kanzakurawrites · 4 months

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Random Thoughts I Had While Rewatching Descendants 1

So I'm guessing Auradon is the size of Eurasia? Cause Europe seems too small, and most of the stories take place in Europe.

Are there Isle guards? I'm guessing because how else do the posters of Beast get put on the Isle?

Beast's crown looks so fake

So is that Ben's dorm room? Or is that his castle room? Is he a day student? (Which, considering he's becoming High King would be smart) I'm curious now

How many outdoor string lights do people in Auradon throw out?

HOW DOES THE ISLE HAVE ELECTRICITY? Are there villains dedicated to keeping it running? Actually, that would be hilarious, especially if that means people don't mess with them. OR they do mess with them and there are just frequent power outages. More likely, now that I think about it.

CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT MALEFICENT'S LETTER MAGNETS! Ha, what if Hades left them there and she just never threw them out? He seems more like the one to have letter magnets.

I don't care about the book timeline, the villains and core four all seem a lot more familiar with each other than just a few weeks or days or whatever. I'm saying its been months at least since the core four became a gang. If not a year.

I know its a Dcom, but I kinda wish that the villains weren't treated as comedy relief. Like, its implied that the kids aren't loved, that they are scared of their parents, but the way the parents are written... excluding the end with Maleficent, they don't seem that scary and all.

Seriously, there must be royal guards, right?

Really wish we had gotten to see the limo driver again.

Have to admit, I really like Ben's darker suit jacket. But why, why the yellow pants.

Ugh, I love Mal's D1 hair.

So... where are the magical people. "Most of us are ordinary royals." Yes, but, but, there is a lot of magic is Disney movies. Where have the magical people GONE. This is concerning.

Auradon Prep is FILLED with royal children, including the soon-to-be High King. The museum is filled with priceless magical artifacts. WHERE IS THE SECURITY. WHERE ARE THE GUARDS.

The beginning of Evil Like Me makes me want to hug Mal.

Are there NO SECURITY CAMERAS?? No other alarms??

WHY ARE THEY HAVING REMEDIAL GOODNESS OUT IN THE OPEN. That should be a PRIVATE class.

Ben, how did you not notice Carlos screaming?

How I wish they would have kept Evie's wavy/curly hair

I really wish there had been more Mal-Jay moments

They were in a public area. How did no one notice what was going on with Ben? DOUG WAS RIGHT BEHIND THEM

You know, none of Ben's classmates seem surprised by his love declaration. Or surprised by the "break up" with Audrey. Hmmm.

You cannot convince me that Ben didn't purposefully tell his parents about Mal right then JUST so he could have a picture of their reaction.

Baby Bal is so cute DX

Honestly, the Family Day fiasco was Audrey and Chad's fault KING BEAST

"No son, its yours." EXCUSE ME SIR

I wonder how much magical strength one must have in order to wield Fairy Godmother's wand. And I feel bad that Jane couldn't.

"I want to go to school. And be with Ben. Because Ben makes me really happy." Don't mind me just crying.

This whole scene makes me cry DX

"Gaston should be jealous." Ew. No. Stop. Creepy.

So whatever happened with the Jay/Audrey thing? I CANNOT be the only one who remembers the shipping days for them.

Other thoughts:

Nostalgia hits hard every time

I miss the D1 clothes! D2 and D3 felt more "costumey" if that makes sense. D1 feels more like... teenagers. And, at least for the Isle outfits, more thrown together. Not as polished, in a way.

I have to admit, kinda wish there was more Aladdin related stuff in the movie. You have Audrey and Mal, Evie and Doug, and Carlos and Dude, but no Aladdin-related characters for Jay? Sure, Aziz is mentioned in the books, and Jordan is in Wicked World, but still. Oh well.

#descendants #disney descendants #I was hoping this would help me for the next Fate's Gift chapter #kinda did

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comradekatara · 4 months

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hi!! i'm sorry i don't go on tumblr a lot anymore but i was trying to look up sokka/yue playlists and i found a post of urs that said u might make one/have made one!! i was just wondering if u have it still since i'm not sure when that post was made? thank u so much for ur time!!

i definitely have one...... in my head......... but because spotify hates me, i lost access to my account shortly after i made my (extremely slept-on) katara playlist, so i never got around to making any more character playlists officially. but i can definitely make one for sokka and yue now! in no particular order...

my love, mine all mine – mitski (song, lyrics)*

fast car – tracy chapman (song, lyrics)*

57821 – janelle monáe (song, lyrics)

earth angel – the penguins (song, lyrics)

don't let me sleep – shana cleveland (song, lyrics)

cosmia – joanna newsom (song, lyrics)

watching you without me – kate bush (song, lyrics)

goodbye ghost – la luz (song, lyrics)

they can't take that away from me – ella fitzgerald & louis armstrong (song, lyrics)

happy – mitski (song, lyrics)

kokomo, indiana – japanese breakfast (song, lyrics)

fernando – abba (song, lyrics)*

northern lights – st. vincent (song, lyrics)

day dreaming – aretha franklin (song, lyrics)

don't judge me – janelle monáe (song, lyrics)

i want you – mitski (song, lyrics)*

i'll be seeing you – billie holiday (song, lyrics)

black roses – escondido (song, lyrics)*

starchild – ghost quarter (song, lyrics)*

slow like honey – fiona apple (song, lyrics)

dissolve me – alt-j (song, lyrics)

stars – grace potter & the nocturnals (song, lyrics)

timefighter – lucy dacus (song, lyrics)

tides – the xx (song, lyrics)

moon river – audrey hepburn (song, lyrics)

doused – diiv (song, lyrics)*

isle unto thyself – miracle musical (song, lyrics)

i bet on losing dogs – mitski (song, lyrics)

ready, able – grizzly bear (song, lyrics)*

have to go – esther rada (song)

responsible – sara bareilles (song, lyrics)

picture me better – weyes blood (song, lyrics)

also, some bonus sokka songs, just for fun

the motherlode – the staves (song, lyrics)*

only kid on the block – cherry glazerr (song, lyrics)

hater's anthem – infinity song (song, lyrics)*

my way – frank sinatra (song, lyrics)

heat lightning – mitski (song, lyrics)*

mouth log – sidney gish (song, lyrics)

creep – radiohead (yes) (song, lyrics)

under ice – kate bush (song, lyrics)

funeral – phoebe bridgers (song, lyrics)*

window – fiona apple (song, lyrics)

how could i – thao & the get down stay down (song, lyrics)

blue spotted tail – fleet foxes (song, lyrics)

P.S. asterisks (*) indicate that the link to the song provided is a music video or live performance and not just an official recording

#i couldve made this entire playlist with mitski songs EXCLUSIVELY. know that i bravely refrained #sokka #yue #sokkaxyue #asks #atlamusic #ihauntmyselfdaily #oh. of course someone w this url would ask me this kind of question. of course #why was this soooooo time consuming #(i already had a list written out on my phone. believe or not. but finding all the links was so tedious)#of course it's worth it tho. as a testament to my insanity #also if anyone DOES have spotify and wants to make this playlist for me (excluding some artists who arent on there like joanna newsom sadly #and then link it to me. that would make me very happy. btw <3 #my music taste must seem so sappy assuming this is as a standard sample........ it's noooottttttt #(but also. isn't it a little?)

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ampreh · 5 months

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[TRF] Norma II

• Related to this : The Rust Factory - Norma (<- comics)

• Related to this : The Rust Factory - Norma (<- comics) I had SO much fun doing the vintage style of flash backs and imagination: I would have kicked myself for ignoring this very impactful style for its time.

Audrey pic: Context - Extract from the 2022 RP "It was the story of a corporate that had made a great scientific revolutionary invention! It was called D-Sire, a simple, medicated, fabulous everyday object that people couldn't live without. But during the process of improving the product, which was intended to target wider markets to make more profit, the D-Sire had unfortunately gone awry, causing a great catastrophe unparalleled among mankind. All cities had been wiped off the map, leaving only willless mutant humans and animals. The heroine had to flee her city, survive and fight her way back to the creator of the D-sire, who had abandoned his company and changed his identity. Coal was terrified of this cheap soap opera with its terrible special effects made of modelling clay and the saturated offbeat sound of the black-and-white picture on the small TV screen." A more than obvious reference to the AU Truffula Flu. And a huge reference to @audtreegrace, @miru667 's character. So of course, I don't have all the context since it's a vast AU with lots and lots of details, but I've got enough of a basis for my friends to recognize and that's good enough for me :> Nathan has already confused Audrey Grace with Audrey, the actress from their series HAHA. Alas, the Audrey and Ted of his world won't be born for several years. He didn't find the actress, but he did find a good friend with whom to talk for hours about anything and everything ♥

Norma Bellini pic: Well, Norma pin-up, because why not! In vintage calendar mode, because I love vintage aesthetics. And yes, those are the right dates I went to check on good old calendars haha. At first I wanted to do it in a swimsuit, but then I preferred the picnic. I love picnics.

Too big to fail pic: I had to do it! Of course I had to! The only time I've redone such an iconic portrait was for the first version of Cashtea-ler in the Let It Flow fanzine, in 2022 (I should do a new one with his new head). Nathan Cole (@1940s-onceler | @nalak-bel 's), in black and white in his best soot-colored suit!

Compilation : Just Normaler, to appreciate Normaler. On a more serious note, I like the idea that Nathan was guided throughout his first times by ladies, and not the reverse. I love this not-so-little whining man.

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taschamonnii · 1 year

Text

More Than A Woman

Read Part 2 & Part 3 & Part 4 & Part 5

You x Shirley Carter (70s-80s Southern Housewife Original Character - Elizabeth Olsen)

*Disclaimer/Summary: This completely Fictional Character is based on the way Lizzie plays old-fashioned Housewives. (Some inspo is taken from WandaVision, I Saw The Light, and Love & Death) This character is in no way a portrayal of any real-life people. Audrey Williams and Candy Montgomery were real people that Lizzie has portrayed for entertainment purposes in tv & film. This story is not about them. I just want to see Lizzie play a 70s-80s housewife that is secretly Gay and stuck in a religious small-town in the South. Since she has never done that but has played the part of perfect housewife I decided to make my own character.* I will be using edited pictures from the characters she has played and unaltered gifs since it's way too hard to edit those.*

Character Description since this is a made up character: mid length-wavy-dark brown hair (think more the length in I saw the Light like it falls to her collar bones but the dee dark brown from goth Wanda era, Emerald Green eyes, Wears form fitting dresses and hig waisted pants and skirts.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Angst/Smut

TW: SMUT, 18+, Cheating on husbands to be GAY together,

I am so obsessed with Lizzie playing housewife that I made a playlist! More Than A Woman

AN: I’m not going to lie, this is purely a selfish work of writing. I NEEDED it!

Word Count: 4,343

Imagine This:

“I’m very attracted to you. Would you be interested in having an affair?”

The intensity of deep emerald green eyes was almost too much for you. The air in the truck was thick as you swallowed hard. Her gaze moved from your eyes to your lips and in a flash right back up to your eyes. Heat pooled low in your abdomen and you couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip.

Shirley licked her lips and your gaze was instantly drawn to the movement. Your body gravitated toward her.

“You already know the answer to that question, Shirley.”

Your tone was playful. This moment had been a long time coming. The two of you had far too many shared glances and lingering touches. You felt the attraction instantly when your gaze first landed on her in the church choir. She was the only reason you joined when you moved to this tiny town for your husband's job. She was quick to notice you as well, she convinced you to join the church tennis team. She was the epitome of a perfect church-going housewife when she introduced herself to you. Shirley Carter was perfect, too perfect. She knew she had a role to play in life and she perfected it to hide her secret. She was desperately waiting for a woman just like you to share her secret with. You hadn’t needed to perfect your role the way she did. You were originally from California. Yes, you married a man, but there were book clubs specifically for women just like you in your old city. Your husband attended a club of his own so intimacy and kids have never been a requirement. A mutual agreement was made between you and your childhood best friend long ago. You didn’t need to really hide it. So, it was oh so easy for her to notice your constant staring. She let you know it was more than okay when she caught you staring. She'd always manage to drift more into your personal space and she’d act super friendly. It was honestly mesmerizing to watch her play this part so perfectly.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.” she smirked.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want to have an affair with you, Shirley. You are all I ever want, all I think about.”

“What are you waiting for? Kiss me.”

A shiver ran down your spine at her words. You closed the gap between you in an instant. Her lips were impossibly perfect. Softer, sweeter than you ever imagined and you had imagined this moment since you first gazed upon her plump lips. She didn’t waste any time her body shifted into your space and forced you to sit upright on the bench seat of your truck. She was in your lap before you could even decide where you really wanted your hands. The second she settled into straddling you she kissed you harder biting at your bottom lip. You moved your hands around her body and down her back. The curve of her hips was irresistible, causing you to pull her into you. Her gasp allowed your tongue to slip inside her sweet mouth. You moaned at her taste and moved your hands to grip her ass hard and pull her into you again.

This time she pulled away quickly and bit her own bottom lip as she pushed your shoulders back. Her hands gilded softly down your arms and grabbed your hands. You watched and let her take your hands where she wanted them. She cast a spell on you the second she whispered that she was attracted to you and now you were hers. She knew this, she knew she could do anything she wanted with you, that you'd do anything. She took your hands and laid them softly on her full breasts then made them glide down her front to her sides to the hem of her blouse. You moved your thumb along the material and grazed her skin softly making her shiver.

"Touch me."

She let your hands go and grabbed your shoulders. You didn't waste time moving your hands under the fabric. You squeezed her hips pulling her closer. She hummed and pressed in closer, instantly capturing your lips. Your hands moved around her and up her smooth back. Nothing compared to how she felt under your fingers. You couldn't wait to have them buried deep inside her.

You moved one skilled hand to her bra and unsnapped it as the other hand moved to start pulling her blouse off. The sudden cool air on her heated skin made her shiver and gasp. She may be bold but you had the experience.

You wasted no time at all after throwing her top aside. Your blunt nails scratched down her back. She leaned into you with a loud sigh.

"Fuck"

"You like that?"

"God yes!"

"Just wait, I'm only getting started."

You moved your hands up her sides and filled your hands with her full breasts. Her nipples were already so hard it made your mouth water. She sighed as you massaged them in both hands her hips began to grind against you begging for friction. You pinched her nipples without warning hard and she let out a whimper.

"Does he touch you like this?"

"N-No. Fuck it feels so good. Please don't stop."

"Only I can touch you like this."

She nodded.

"I need to hear it."

You let go of her breasts completely and she groaned.

"Please Y/N! Only you can touch me like this, only you make me feel this good. Please!"

You smirked, she was always so in control and now she was putty in your hands.

You cupped her breasts lightly as light as you could stand it. Making her whimper again. You could cum just at the sound of her breathy moans but you wanted to make her cum first as many times as you could get from her. You were so curious how many ways you could get her to cum in your truck.

You changed the angle you were sitting, bringing her closer. You leaned forward into her and ghosted your lips over her left nipple.

"Fuck!"

You flicked your tongue over the stiff bud before she could ask for more. You sucked it hard into your mouth, biting it lightly. Her gasp and jerk of her hips told you she liked it. You pinched her other nipple harder and began to suck and bite and flick her left nipple relentlessly. Her hips were pressing against you wildly. Your free hand steadied her motions helping her get friction by gripping her firm ass and pushing her into you. Her breathing was becoming more labored but her hips kept the motion as you switched hands. You pinched the overstimulated bud hard as your mouth moved to her right nipple. You followed the same relentless pattern. Sucking biting, flicking licking. Pinching and brushing the other. Your free hand moved to her ass only this time you kept her body pressed closer to you not letting her get any friction.

Her green eyes shot down to lock with yours and her pupils were blown. You released her nipple from your mouth.

"I want you to cum just from this." You pinched both her nipples then brushed your hands over them and squeezed.

"I know you are close. Let it go for me and I will make you cum again and again."

She threw her head back as you squeezed her breasts and grazed your palms over her sensitive nipples.

"Fuck I can't"

"You can"

You scratched down her sides and back up then pinched her nipples toying with them between your fingers. Her head shot back up and she pressed closer to you. You kissed down her necks and began to leave the lightest marks, careful not to leave any that will last, over her collarbones and breasts. Your fingers consistently follow a pattern of playing with her hard nipples. Gently then harder. Her hips bucked into you hard and her body trembled then her legs squeezed you hard.

"Oh OH! Fu-FUCK!"

You hummed feeling your own clit throb at the sight. "Fuck you are breathtaking when you cum."

"I. You. Fuck! I didn't think I could cum like that."

"It takes more time that way but I could spend days worshiping your breasts. But also now you are soaked and ready for me."

You moved your hands finally letting her boobs have a break. Her nipples stood stiff and bright pink, almost tempting you to try and make her cum the same way for you once again. But you couldn't wait to feel how wet she was.

You moved your hands down to her skirt which was already hiked up around her hips and pushed it out of your way more. You took both your hands to her inner thighs massaging them. You started softly making her whimper and used more pressure as you got closer to wear she needed you most. You could feel the heat radiating off of her center. Your fingers brushed against her silk panties and she gasped for air. She was soaked.

"Can I rip these off of you?"

She shuddered at your words and nodded as she talked.

"You've already ruined them."

You moved to the hem of the fabric and yanked it apart. A moan left her lips at the friction against her clit, the soaked material ripped with ease revealing her soft wet skin and soft trimmed hair.

You moved two fingers along her soaked lips and lightly brushed her clit.

"Stop fucking teasing Y/N"

You moved your fingers up and down spreading her slick heat she instantly bucked her hips into you. Her hands grabbed at the hair on the back of your neck.

"Fuck me!"

You moved your fingers to her entrance teasing just the tips in.

"Kiss me and I'll think about it."

Her lips instantly captured yours hard and needy. You pulled your fingers back up to her clit only adding light pressure. She moved like she was going to part the kiss to complain but you instantly captured her lower lip sucking hard as you moved your fingers. Both your fingers slid into her with ease. Her walls tightly surrounded you. Her body relaxed into you finally getting some satisfaction. She moved her hips as you slid as far as your long slender fingers could go.

You moved your fingers slowly back out and in, a few times until her hips started rocking in time with you. You curved your fingers making sure to press against her most sensitive spots.

"Ride my fingers."

Her breathing became heavier and breathier as she moved on top of you, her perky breasts bouncing in front of you. She began to move more and more and so you picked up speed and made sure your palm rubbed against her clit. She was already so close you could feel her walls flutter around you. You moved your free hand from her ass to scratch up and down her back.

"Fuck! AH! Ah fuck please don't stop! Oh my fucking God! Fucking how? Fuck! Fuck Fuck!"

"I love how you ride my fingers! You are so fucking beautiful!"

Her legs squeeze around you tight and tremble as she throws her head back. Her neck strains and you want to bite it so desperately but know better. You guide her through her orgasm, easing the pressure letting her soak up the high and enjoy a slow come down. Her walls release their tight grip on your fingers and you slowly pull them from her. You are desperate to taste her but you want her to watch so you wait a second. As her body stops shaking she locks her gaze on you and the green rings around her blown pupils cause you to smirk. You feel like the best kind of evil as you bring your fingers to your lips and suck them slowly into your mouth moaning as you get lost in her taste. Her lips part as she watches you. You make sure to make an audible pop sound as you clean them and release them from your mouth. A whimper leaves her parted lips.

“You are so fucking sexy Y/N!”

“You taste so sweet, Shirley. I want to eat you up, no I need to. Please?”

You love the way her cheeks become red so you continue. “I need to bury my tongue as deep as I can into your sweetness. I need to feel your tight walls flutter around it as I drink you in and get lost in how incredible you taste. Do you want to feel my tongue inside you, Shirley?”

Her body shudders and it is breathtaking to watch your words affect her so deeply. You move closer and brush your lips against hers softly. “Do you want to know how good you taste?”

She doesn’t answer with words, her lips meet yours urgently. She is swiftly slipping her tongue in your mouth and pressing her body against you with need. She moans into the kiss and manages to suck lightly on your tongue. Your clit throbs and you can’t stop the shudder that runs down your body. She pulls away with a smirk knowing the effect she had on you filled her with confidence. Her hands ran down over your chest and her slender long fingers quickly unbuttoned your top. She makes even quicker work of your bra, tossing it aside. She licks her lips as your breasts and abs are unveiled to her.

Her fingertips brush up and down your chest and abs. Your nipples harden as her palms brush over them. She pinches them between her fingers softly.

"Can I make you cum like this?"

You bite your bottom lip and nod. It's so sexy how she wants to copy what you did and learn from you.

Her commanding, dominating, and controlling personality pushed her to be a fast learner and damn she really paid attention.

Her fingers are so long and her grip is strong she holds your breasts in both her hands firmly feeling squeezing, testing the weight in her hands. She loves how soft your skin is. She loves how you fit perfectly in her hand and it is better than her wildest daydreams.

You moan at her explorations. Her palms graze your hard nipples as she releases your breasts. She then swiftly pinches both nipples between her fingers softly.

"Harder." You sigh

She bites her bottom lip and she pinches harder. Causing you to sigh with relief. You can feel your walls contracting around nothing and buck your hips up into her to no avail.

She smirks. She moves off your lap slightly bunching up your skirt as she adjusts herself to put one knee between your legs and to allow her to straddle your bare leg.

Her bare wet core now rests hot against the smooth skin of your thigh. And fuck her knee is pressed right against the wet fabric covering your clit. Her intuition is beautiful but you expect she's read about this sort of thing. She's a curious and intelligent woman.

She settles for a moment in the new position still pinching your nipples, eyes glued to your every reaction. Then she slowly slides her wet heat along your thigh as she presses her knee into your clit. You throw your head back straining your neck.

The display of your exposed neck collar bones and chest make her mouth water. She licks her lips before she leans in and presses an open mouthed kiss to your neck. She kisses and tests the waters sucking lightly. You can tell she wants to mark your skin by the way her lips tremble against you.

Her lips feel devine. Your mind wanders to how good they will feel on the rest of your body and how badly you want her to bite you but you more so just want to see and feel what she does next. You melt as her kisses lower to your chest and she kisses all around your nipple. She takes the other in her hand and finally envelopes the stuff bud in her warm mouth. She is light, careful, and calculated as she flicks her tongue and it drives your hips to grind against her. She pinches your other nipple as she lightly bites the one in her mouth and you can't help yourself.

"Fuck that feels so good!" You grab her ass in both your hands and squeeze, pressing her wet heat harder against your leg. Bringing her closer and also giving your clit much needed pressure.

She takes this as a sign that she's doing the right things and begins a pattern similar to what you did licking biting sucking while grazing and squeezing and pinching. She switches between breasts and your back arches. You are so close and right when you are about to say harder her long fingers tangle into and pull your hair. She bites harder on your nipple and pinches the other with determination. You feel your walls contract and moan out.

"Fuck I'm cuming! Yes Shirley!"

Your body trembles once twice as she releases your breasts and kisses your lips. Your hands travel up her back and into her hair as you deepen the kiss. She pulls back first.

"I want to feel you cuming."

Her fingers travel down your torso and pull on the hem of your soaked panties. Her gaze falls to your lap and she grabs at the fabric the same way you did hers. You nod approval to rip them. Her fingers move with haste and her gaze is locked on the skin and neatly trimmed hair. She watches as the fabric falls with a clear sticky wetness. She licks her lips as she glances back up at you.

"I don't know how to do this."

She moves off your lap and sits looking away from you. Twisting in her direction you softly graze her chin and pull her attention back.

"You have been doing amazing and you have made me feel absolutely incredible already. You don't have to do anything else if you don't want to."

"No! I want to! I just want to be great or nothing."

You smirk. "You and those long fingers are going to be the best. You are going to ruin me for everyone else, no one will ever compare to you."

She rolls her eyes.

"I know this because you want to be great so you will let me help you and you will listen and feel and know what to do by paying attention."

She bit her bottom lip thinking "can you straddle me so I can do it like you did?"

You lightly bite your bottom lip and raise your eyebrow. "Oh Mrs. Carter, you want me to ride your fingers and fuck me senseless?"

"Yes, Mrs. Y/L/N."

You move and help her adjust into more of the middle of the seat. The bench seat is such a blessing and you are so thankful for your truck right now. Your knees hug her outter thighs and you hold your skirt keeping it bunched up as you settle on her lap. Her gaze travels up and down your body with determination like she's memorizing you. It makes you shiver and you can't stop yourself as you capture her lips in a heated kiss.

Her hands grip your hips fiercely and you think you may have bruises from it which makes heat rush to your already dripping core. You steady yourself with one hand on her shoulder and take the other down to grab her dominant hand. You hold her wrist as you guide her hand down. You guide her to just lay her hand over your core and you release a hot breath against her necks. She takes that as a good sign and presses her middle finger against you more. She bends it running from the source of the slick heat to your clit and you let go of her wrist to grab her other shoulder as your body shudders.

She repeats this a few times each time teasing your entrance a little. Your hips are begging for more when she decides to slide her middle finger into you slowly letting your walls pull her in and fuck it feels so fucking good! She curls her finger as she slowly removes it and you can't help but squirm on top of her.

"More. I need another."

Her gaze falls to your lap as you lift up off her slightly and she presses two fingers at your entrance. She slowly pushes in and you let your hips fall, enveloping her fingers with a sigh of relief. Your walls flutter around her and it encourages her to begin exploring different things. Your hips match her movements and your breath quickens. Your hands tangle into the hair on the back of her neck.

You can't stop yourself from leaning into her as you feel the pressure build. Her fingers are perfect. You try to kiss her shoulder and neck but your moans make you falter and scrape your teeth against her skin. It makes her shudder and dig her other hand harder into the skin of your waist as she helps you stay steady. Your breath is more of a frantic panting against her skin and it just seems to urge her on. She quickens her pace more confident in her motions.

And fuck it feels so good to let her take the lead to give into her. She seems to be enjoying herself and it just makes you clench around her. She can't stop watching her fingers disappear into you. She's mesmerized.

You are so close your hips can't keep up with her motions but it's more than okay because she is fucking you right where you need her.

"Fuck Shirley! Ah! Feels so good! Oh fuck right there! Keep- Oh fuck! I'm gonna AH!"

Your hips falter completely as your legs squeeze around her and your legs tremble. Your walls squeeze her fingers contracting hard around her. She slows her pace and stays inside you until you loosen your hold on her. You lean back blissed out and ready to kiss her but she's slowly sucking her fingers and your jaw literally drops at the sight. She moans at the taste of you and keeps her gaze locked on yours. When she makes a wet pop sound finishing the show you instantly capture her lips in a hungry kiss absolutely melting into the taste of you and her.

You both break from the kiss in need of air and rest your foreheads together.

The windows of your truck are fogged up and reality hits you. You just fucked and got fucked by Shirley in the church parking lot! You can’t stop the laughter that falls from your lips.

Shirley tilts her head to the side with a crooked smile. “What’s so funny?”

You gesture all around you “We just fucked in the church parking lot. I just fucked and got fucked by Mrs. Perfect Southern Church going HouseWife, Shirley Carter.”

You throw your head back with laughter and soon she joins you but not before she lightly slapped your shoulder. She glanced around and you were parked far in the back corner but still it was so risky! Sure that was part of the thrill but Shirley was not an idiot. She nudged you to get you to be serious for a second.

“We should probably be smarter about this. We need to make a plan.”

You nod in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

You move to get off her lap and she stops you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You smile down at her. “It’s getting late. I was going to find my blouse.”

She bit her bottom lip “oh alright, but I really like having you like this.”

You gave her a lopsided smile and leaned in to kiss her lips once again but this time savoring it. You parted your lips but only barely. “I like it too.”

You pecked her lips once more before moving off her lap and grabbing her top and tossing it at her. You found your bra and quickly pulled it on. You find her bra and dangle it from your finger. “Mrs. Carter, this little lacy red thing is so very inappropriate for choir practice.”

She rolls her eyes and snatches it from you. “Oh yes because that black number you have on is so appropriate.”

She smirks and grabs your shirt from under her and throws it at you.

You gasp and throw your hand over your chest “whatever do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Now button your damn blouse so I can concentrate.”

You do as you are told and watch as she fixes her blouse, hair, and makeup in the mirror. Just like that she looks the part. Perfectly put together. You leave your hair tousled and a few buttons undone, your husband is used to this and most likely is asleep in his room by this hour.

When she turns to look at you her gaze falls and she physically shakes her head.

“You can’t go home looking like that!”

“Like what?” You smirk, “relax, my husband, is asleep in HIS room and used to me coming home like this. We have an arrangement, made a pact as kids, so our lives could be easier. Theo likes men and I well, obviously, I LOVE women.”

You eye her up and down with a smug expression and top it off with a wink. Another roll of her eyes. “You are something else. This is all new to me and we need to be careful. I have kids to think about.”

“Oh don’t you worry, I know how to be discreet and flexible. Whatever you need, you are worth it.”

AN: This is an original series

#Elizabeth Olsen #Female Reader X Shirley Carter #70s-80s Southern HouseWife #cheating on husbands to be gay but the husbands are also Gay lol #original series #made up original character based on the way Elizabeth Olsen plays old fashioned Housewives #smut #angst #wlw #lesbian #playlist for elizabeth olsen living her best disco life and that are vibes for the show and for dancing #inspo taken from WandaVision and I Saw The Light and Love & Death

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thehotelpod · 8 months

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It's October and that's all the reason I need to celebrate Izzy lets go!!!

I could talk for an hour about how Izzy's art and playlists spoke to me and why I just HAD to have him do our art, but that's another post for another day. For now lets talk about a few of the early pieces.

THE MALL

his first official piece for us. The bonus episodes and the corresponding postcards was a it of an experiment (it's experiments all the way down) and we were all so impressed with this that we just had to figure out a way to hire him. I was on the phone with Pacific when he saw it and I could practically feel the shock when the colors hit him.

More under the cut, don't forget to follow @filthyguts!

4.10 Audrey Burns

(I AM WORKING ON THE LETTERING) the fisrt normal episode piece. I had no idea what was coming my way, Izzy's style is strong at its core, but the fringes and fiddly bits have such nuance and flavor. Popping colors, photobashing, giant expressions and poses, and a rare smile from our boy. He's dressed in the Hilton uniform because that's what this Hotel was based on. This one has a real Stinky Cheese Man vibe.

4.11 The Owner - V

a rare sequel episode that ties in directly with S1. Izzy really got to play with the composition, breaking it apart with the characters themselves (notice the V shape!) and infusing it with the chaos of the episode, but unified by color scheme. More photobashing (is that what its called?) and a rare view of his Hotel herself design. I love the his Owner so much. Them little grabbers!

4.12 X - X

Originally titled "? - ?" but changed because that's unpronounceable, this one is very popular on our store. Lobby Boy clutching the title and the Owner made of Hotel photos (ELEVATOR BUTTON ARM!) reinforcing the helpless power the characters have over their environment. That smiling crazed face is exactly what I pictured in season 1, and something about the colors and texture reads as fish scales to me it's like the Manager is here too (fish!Manager enjoyers unite)

4.12 Judy Blashy

One of my very very very favorites. The whole cast together, and though they all wear masks of fear you can still get their character dynamic in an instant (i like how the LB is in front of the Manager--Izzy has always understood that he is not fragile fine china that could shatter at any moment, but a mongoose under the house who doesn't like loud noises). Madam Hotel's mad, gap toothed grin, her room number earrings, her NECK LOOK AT HER NECK!!! and of course a great big splash of blood where the Owner smooshed her (mirroring the Managers head getting bonked in S3, and don't get me started on people losing eyes) I love that when we added the Goosebumps frame he drew some more blood flying out over it, always reinforcing that breaking of what seems like real boundaries effortlessly.

That's it for now, go follow Izzy anywhere you can, he posts art all the time and it's always incredible (I don't even know who Kira is but I sure like the way Izzy draws him)

Thank you Izzy, you are a rock star and I cannot and will not imagine what the Hotel looks like without you!

#The Hotel podcast #filthyguts #he also has great taste in movies #fashion icon #animator #a professional and delightful guy

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blessedwithabadomen · 4 months

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in love with the mess - day zero

content : fluff

length : 3.2k

tags : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81

a/n : hi everyone!! I hope you'll enjoy this, comments and reblogs and asks are always more than appreciated!!

•••

day zero

Time moved differently on tour. It always had, as long as I’d worked on them. Go away for a week and it’ll simultaneously feel like you only left home yesterday and as if you’ve been on the road for a month straight. 15 days didn’t seem too bad this time around. I’d done double that, triple that, easily. I basked in the feeling of how it fucked with time perception. Days flying by so fast I couldn’t quite grasp it, memories so fleeting and yet so fully anchored to my being. At the same time, in between, I already knew that I’d have days where this tour felt like a lifetime. Too many places in too little time, so many faces, different venues, different people, fans, the same setlists every night. And afterward, life wouldn’t be quite the same. Not this time around.

•••

“There she is!”

Oli’s voice was much too loud in the hotel lobby. Several people turned around, even if I wasn’t sure if it was because they recognised him or simply because they were questioning who was being so damn loud in this rather nice place. He crossed the room in long strides as I quickly gave the receptionist a nod while she handed over my room key.

He looked different than the last time I’d seen him in person, which, admittedly, had been… a while. There had been constant texting, a familiar voice in my ear whenever I needed it, video calls at any opportunity, all based on a friendship we’d both worked hard to grow over the last decade or so, but lately both of us had been busy on such opposing schedules that any in-person meetings got delayed and delayed again.

Whenever he was on the road, I was stuck at a job far away and when I was working on a different local tour, he was busy recording in a different country. It was why he made sure that now, when he was embarking on a massive arena tour with his band and I was miraculously free for all of January, he got me a job allowing me to tag along. It was so much more than I could ask for.

Still. It had been longer than I’d like to admit since the two of us had met in person and none of the pictures I’d been looking at or the video calls we’d been chatting through had done Oli Sykes any justice. He’d been hitting the gym, I knew that much, but the way he now filled out his frame had me giving him a once over as he approached. His hair was longer now, too. He looked healthier, I thought. Healthier and happier.

At least I wasn’t crushing on him anymore. I had spent a good few years with a special place in your heart reserved just for him, well aware that it had never been reciprocated. Nothing had ever happened, save a few harmless flirtations here and there. One of us had always been in a relationship, had someone else on their mind or simply enjoying their single life. It wasn’t like he’d be interested in me either way, I told yourself. And I was over all of that, even if both of us actually were available at the same time for once. It didn’t matter.

I greeted Oli with a smile as both of us immediately went for a hug. He’d always been a very touchy person, something that had been feeding my crush in the most unhealthy ways, but as someone who was also constantly in a state of touch starvation, I appreciated it either way. His arms held me tightly. I was convinced I could feel every individual muscle under my fingers as they traced his back and I just knew he was smiling into my hair as he rested his head on mine, his perfume engulfing me, and-

Yeah, fuck. I wasn’t over him. Like, at all.

I let go of him a little too abruptly, terrified he could feel the way my heart rate was speeding up, but he didn’t mention it. The weight of my realisation was hitting me hard.

I was going to have to spend the next two and a half weeks with him, as close as ever. And I was going to be crushing on him as much as ever. Great.

“Thank you for getting me on this tour,” I said anyway because truly, having someone basically fight to create a job for me just to make sure I could tag along and get paid for it out of pure friendship wasn’t something I was taking for granted. It wasn’t Oli’s fault my feelings weren’t under control.

“I’ll have you know that I missed three meetings to convince them that I needed a personal assistant to keep me on track.”

“Damn, so I’ll actually have to interact with you and make sure you are where you need to be at all times?” I joked.

“You also get to go on burger runs after the show. You’re basically my slave now.”

I decided to ignore the way his statement makes a shiver run down my spine. He didn’t need to know how far my services would extend, if he ever asked for it.

“Everyone in the tour group chat is making fun of me by the way. They’ve all very lovingly changed my contact name to ‘Oli’s slut’, so you’re not that far off.”

“Wait, there’s a groupchat I’m not part of?” Oli was halfway to pulling out his phone, apparently shocked at the idea that other people working this tour would connect without him being the centre of attention or even included at all, but he was interrupted.

The interruption came in the form of Noah Sebastian, tall, all smiles, and, somehow, even more beautiful in person than I’d gathered he would be from pictures and videos. One of his hands came to rest on Oli’s shoulder, making him look up with a bright smile, as the other reached out to me.

“Noah Sebastian,” he introduced himself, as if there was any chance I could possibly not be aware. “I sing in Bad Omens.”

“Hi! I’m Oli’s slut.” A brief pause. Panic as I gripped his hand tighter upon realising just which words had left my mouth. “No! Wait! Personal assistant! Oh my god. Aubrey. That’s my name.”

I couldn’t tell whose laughter was louder out of the two of them, but I was mortified. This was possibly the worst first impression I had ever made. And I’d made a lot of them.

“Where did you find her?” Noah laughed. “I like her already.”

Oli slung his arm around me, pressing my blushing face to his chest. I both wanted to burrow myself into the fabric of his hoodie and withdraw immediately before the heat in my cheeks got any worse.

“Oh, years ago, mate. She’s a keeper. A little socially inept though, obviously.”

“I fucking hate you,” I mumbled as I untangled myself from Oli. “I’m gonna go to my room and hide away until I’ve learned how to behave in public again.”

Grabbing my bag from off the floor and double checking that the key card I’d been handed hadn’t, somehow, vanished into the abyss, I turned to take the handle of my suitcase only to find it was already in Noah’s hand.

“I’m going to join you,” he said. I didn’t miss the way Oli raised his eyebrows. “In going upstairs, I mean, not going to your room. I’m… very jetlagged.”

“You two are a right pair,” Oli commented with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “This is going to be a great fucking tour.”

•••

“Is this the first tour you’re working on?”

I stopped at the door leading to my hotel room, Noah coming to a halt next to me and pushing my suitcase in my general direction. I was unreasonably nervous. Somehow, even though we were in a pretty public hallway in a pretty public hotel, no one else was around. I hadn’t counted on being alone with him so quickly, even if it was possibly the least conspicuous situation imaginable. Leaning back against the door, I fumbled with the keycard to keep my hands preoccupied.

“Oh no, I’ve done my fair share, actually. It’s how I met Oli, years ago, on one of the first jobs I ever had. I’ve mainly been doing merch or helping out as someone’s assistant, usually a tour manager’s. When he found out I was going to be free for this tour, he really wanted to get me on it, but they’d filled all positions already, so he convinced management that he needed a personal assistant. And here I am!”

“What’s that entail then? Your job? I might be in the business of hiring a personal assistant for myself, some time in the future.”

The way he was towering over me as he leaned against the wall, a smirk on his lips, eyes travelling over my face… was he flirting with me? I’d always been terrible at telling. Especially when it came to attractive people. There was a constant fear my interpretations could just be down to wishful thinking.

“Knowing Oli, it’s probably going to be a lot of running around to fetch him food and the most random assortments of items that he suddenly needs for no reason whatsoever. Other than that, I’m responsible for kicking his ass and keeping him on time for everything. I’m allowed to use physical force if necessary, he gave me that in writing. I’m definitely going to enjoy that part.”

“Sounds like Oli’s your slut, to be honest.”

If there had been any liquid anywhere near my mouth, I would have done a spit take. The implications of it, as well as the tone of his low voice muttering the word slut was enough to do me in. There wasn’t, though, so I simply gaped at Noah for a moment before erupting into laughter.

“You know, it really does. I’m going to remember that. Don’t tell him though. He likes to think he’s the dominant one in this situation.”

Noah pushed himself away from the wall, giving me another smile that sent shivers down my spine, before turning to walk away. “I can’t wait to see you put him in his place. I’m going to be watching.”

•••

The room was nicer than any I had ever been put in while working on a tour and, even more importantly, I wasn’t sharing it with anyone. I didn’t know what kind of strings Oli had pulled to make this happen, but I would thank him thoroughly for it. In any way he deemed acceptable.

I shook the thought from my head.

It didn’t work.

So, I did the only thing that made sense. I called my best friend.

“Lia, I’m in fucking trouble,” was the first thing I said to her. We’d never been too fond of greetings.

“Did you get arrested before tour even started again?” Her voice came through the phone, somewhere between accusatory and amused.

“That never happened! It was a case of mistaken identity and they let me go immediately. Anyway. No. My problem is that I want to fuck my boss.”

“And that’s news to you how?” she scoffed.

“Lia!”

“What! How is it any secret, or ever has been, that you want to bone Oli Sykes?”

I fell down onto my bed in defeat. It was extremely comfortable, which did ease my pain momentarily. I would get an amazing night’s sleep here.

“I thought I was over it,” I whined. “I thought I was going to be fine but he’s fit as fuck and I’m gonna have to spend every fucking day with him. Never mind Noah.”

“Noah? Okay, now you have my attention.”

“I didn’t have it before? Rude.”

“Less complaining, more talking about Noah please.”

“He’s fucking dreamy, I’ll tell you that. And a flirt. I think? I’ve yet to determine it for sure. And I’ve only seen him and Oli interact once but Oli looks at him like the sun shines from his arse so he’ll probably be around all the time, too.”

Lia didn’t say anything for a long, long moment. Long enough that I pulled the phone from my ear briefly just to check that the connection hadn’t dropped. When she finally spoke again, she sounded much more serious than I’d heard her in a while.

“Aubrey. I know I make fun of you a lot.” True. “And I know that I don’t always give the best advice.” Also true, sometimes painfully so. “But I love you and you need to listen to me for once, yeah? Have some fucking fun.”

I had to admit, that wasn’t the advice I thought I was going to hear.

“You have this weird thing about not allowing yourself to let loose and enjoy yourself but I’m giving you explicit permission. Do whatever feels right. Flirt with anyone who’s attractive to you and wants to flirt back. Make a move on Oli. Make a move on Noah. I don’t fucking care. But stop depriving yourself of happiness because you, for some unexplainable reason, think you don’t deserve it. Please, Aubrey. Have some fun on this tour. Okay?”

I was dumbstruck. For a while, I didn’t know what to say, but Lia stayed silent, waiting it out. Waiting until her words seeped into my brain. Started to make sense. And I knew. I knew she was right. I’d been focused on chasing after job opportunities, constantly trying to prove myself, travelling from one place to another, and never had I stopped and taken a moment to allow myself to really be happy. I hadn’t had a relationship since… I didn’t want to think about it. Hell, I hadn’t even touched anyone in forever. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten drunk, stayed out until sunlight, sang my heart out, let go.

And this tour… Oli had given me the job because he wanted to hang out with me. I didn’t have anything to prove. So I took a breath. And I told Lia a single word.

“Okay.”

•••

I was almost asleep, clad in a pair of shorts and an old shirt and covered under the blanket, when my phone chimed with the tell-tale jingle I’d assigned to Oli. He was my boss, after all. I felt like I should at least make an effort to make sure I’d notice his attempts to contact me, even if it only came in the form of a personalised ringtone.

Oli u up? Aubrey Is this a booty call Oli come over

I knew I didn't have a good enough reason to refuse. Double checking that I had noted down his room number, I grabbed my key card and phone and quickly padded down the hallway, thanking the lords that no one bumped into me. Oli opened the door the second I put my knuckles against it to knock. He didn't waste any time pulling me into the room and onto his bed by my hand.

“Wow, forward much? Normally I at least get dinner before jumping into bed with someone,” I joked.

“Love, I’ve taken you out for food so many times, you should get on your knees without me having to ask.”

I landed a good slap to the back of his head for his comment. It seemed better than to acknowledge the fact that I would, definitely, without question, get on my knees for him, and now my head was once again flooded with inappropriate images. Settling on the mattress next to him, I tried not to get too close to Oli, which shouldn’t have been a difficult feat on a double bed, but as soon as he had grabbed his laptop again, he shuffled so close that his thigh was touching mine.

“Can I show you some stuff?” he asked, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in my heart, as he was rapidly opening and closing tabs on his laptop. I simply nodded, waiting for him to continue. “I know you’re going to see most of it tomorrow, I made sure the sound tech people are cool with you staying at the sound desk if you want so you can get a good look at the whole show, but look, we did a whole video montage that’s going to play before the encore, and…”

Oli talked and talked and talked, about the show, about the planning of it all, about their rehearsals, showing me pictures and videos and blueprints and all I could do was sit and listen and fall in love with the sound of his voice a little bit more. He was catching me up on everything I could have possibly missed, letting me listen to everything he was expecting to happen in the next two weeks, and how he couldn’t believe I was actually there and part of it all.

“Having you and Noah here is the fucking best,” he grinned, somehow snuggling even closer into me. I let him, against my better judgement, as always.

“Someone’s a bit in love with him,” I teased.

“Everyone is a bit in love with him. You’ve met him. Prettiest dude on tour.”

“Apart from you.” It slipped out before I realised the thought was even in my brain, but Oli seemed delighted.

“You think I’m pretty?” He fluttered his eyelashes in a way that would have been purely obnoxious, usually, but all I could focus on was how fucking pretty he did indeed look. “You think I’m cute? You wanna kiss me? You wanna hold my hand?”

“Oh my god, I take it back,” I groaned, pushing him away and attempting to crawl out of his bed, but his arms grabbed onto my middle and pulled me back before I got anywhere at all. He seemed to anticipate me trying to fight his grip, because as soon as I made any further move, his fingers found the skin under my shirt and began tickling my stomach in relentless cruelty. Within seconds, I was reduced to a shouting, giggling mess, tears threatening to spill from my eyes as I wriggled underneath him, to no avail.

“Please, please, Oli!” I gasped, breathlessly. “You’re- fuck, you’re the prettiest!”

His torment stopped immediately, but our position didn’t change. I was still trapped under his broad frame, his hands still on me, his hair almost tickling my face, he was that close. My breathing was going fast, trying to calm down after his attack, but his proximity didn’t help at all. For a moment, a long moment, we simply stared at each other, all fight leaving our bodies. Then, just as I wondered if anything was actually going to happen, he sat back up, busying himself with his laptop and fixing the blanket.

I almost missed it when he muttered, “For the record, I think you’re the prettiest, too.”

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #oli sykes fic #oli sykes x reader #noah sebastian #oli sykes #in love with the mess

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