#i see you assumed that things are working as they should without a hitch at least at the agency's most basic function? and they most likely
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everyday i see usamericans giving way too much credit to their government agencies. people don't stop being idiots because they work for a government, assume incompetence
#it's always ''oh but they MUST'' okay but they don't tho. like most likely they don't#i see you assumed that things are working as they should without a hitch at least at the agency's most basic function? and they most likely#are not#this is not about the type of government it's about people. people make mistakes all the time a lot of the time on purpose#especially in government agencies.#it's like i was saying the other day. the type of miscommunication you see in small gatherings like in a middle managers meeting#or like in a freaking book club. that shit gets replicated in bigger organizations. we don't just get good at it when there's millions of#people at stake. we actually get worse at it#you need to realize this before someone tries to recruit you for an mlm#i mean. i dont wanna be too harsh tho it's not so much that everyone's an idiot is more that the system we work within is just not setting#us up for success. quite the contrary#.
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Take a Picture
Scareactor!GhostxFem!reader
Reader is a professional photographer hired out at a haunted theme park where she catches the eye of one of our favorite masked men.
Inspired by a TikTok I saw that I can not find for the life of me! Will do a part 2 tomorrow if time allows it. Feeling festive :)
Happy Halloween!!
"$1,500."
"For the weekend??" Y/N asked eagerly. After starting her own business, money was tight. Wedding season had slowed down from the change of seasons, and senior pictures would be her next pick-up in the spring.
"For the weekend," the manager of the theme park said before continuing, "if things stay busy and the weather is good, we will ask you back for the next weekend. Does that work?"
"Absolutely!" Y/N said, without any hesitation. Fuck yeah! Was what she wanted to say.
"Great, shift brief starts at 4 PM before the park gets dark. If you want to attend to see how we operate, you are more than welcome."
"I'll be there." Pleasantries were exchanged before the phone was hung up. She felt like she was riding on cloud 9. Gathering her camera equipment, flashes, and extra batteries and a few lenses, nearly skipping out the door to her car. The money would be nice, but how many people get to take pictures at a Halloween event at a theme park for their portfolio as well?
The autumn air was crisp on her skin, the sky bright blue with Toy Story clouds in them. This felt promising for her, and she loved the feeling. She gave up her hated job and moved on to her dream career as her own boss, making her hobby into her life choice.
Pulling into the theme park, she immediately noticed the dark aesthetic, further feeding her anticipation for the next two nights. The black metal gates at the entrance decorated with twinkling purple lights. Seeing what appeared to be a group of workers, she gathered her things and followed them I'm.
"Y/N?" Someone asked as she walked through, assuming it was the person she talked to on the phone.
"Yes," she said, sticking out her hand to shake the other person's
"Thought so with that camera around your neck, come with me, have some information and papers for you to sign before you get started." The woman turned on her heel waiting for y/n to follow.
"My name's Kate. Basically, we want jump scare shots if you can get them and some candids of the actors. We will take your pictures at the end of the night and place a watermark on them. If the customers want to buy them, then they can. Sound good?"
Kate kept walking at a fast pace, heading to what looked like an office.
"Yeah, totally," she nodded.
Once inside, she sat down and signed the proper paperwork.
"Stay out of the actors' way if you can help it. They can get pretty into it and don't want you hurt. Wear this mask," she said, sliding a black and red formal mask to her. "I've already shown them this mask so they understand you're here to photograph, not to be scared. Alright?"
"Got it." She said taking the mask and looking at it. It was flat black with red sparkles outlining it. Black ribbon used to tie it back.
"They should all be in the meeting room, I'll lead you there and then you should be good to go."
Standing up once more, she followed Kate. Heart pounding in her chest, ready to get started.
It was almost like a locker room, men and women scattered through it. Most were in actual costumes that would frighten anyone, fake blood spattered across fabric or skin. Full masks of different creatures on their shoulders.
One of them caught her eye, however. He was shirtless but wearing black pants. Red over his tattooed arms and hands, making it look like he had freshly killed someone. His eyes were brown, like the leaves in the trees right now, the only feature she could see of his face from the skull mask he had on.
Instantly, her breathing hitched. It was like her heart stopped, making her stand still. Awkwardly moving in, realizing that people were watching her move now.
She tried to make herself small, standing in a corner. Listening to who was designated in what area and when everyone would rotate around, trying to pay attention to the map. Her eyes kept wandering over to the large man that was built like a Greek God, finding she wasn't able to control herself. The brown eyes glanced over to her, making her hair stand on end. He caught her staring at him.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer." The voice in his chest rumbled.
She couldn't quite place if he was making a joke about her, or if he was upset with her for staring.
"S-sorry," she stuttered out quietly, turning to face the speaker once more. Shortly after her apology, the meeting was over. He walked past her, shadow looming over, making a chill across her skin.
Kate must have seen their interaction. "Don't mind him. He comes across gruff sometimes but mostly just sticks to himself."
Y/N nodded, readying herself, doing one last check through things ready to get the night started. Tying her mask around her face, she walked out into the main courtyard.
It started off amazing. People come through the gates in waves. Laughing to herself when people were scared by the actors, but then stopping her with them when they wanted their picture taken. It was beautiful to her, even as it was creepy. People were having a good time spiking their adrenaline, and she got to capture it. It made her earlier embarrassing moment go away. She had completely forgotten about it... until it was shift change, and there he stood. Making her stomach feel like it had just rolled.
Underneath his mask, he was smiling. Seeing the fear strike her face. It was what he lived for... but she was untouchable... for now.
She told herself to move past it. Getting paid was important. It didn't stop her. She took her photos of him in awe of his ability to just intimidate his victims, bolting after them, making them run away. His chuckle in his chest made her body heat up in such a way. Heart throbbing at the sight of him.
The night is coming to its end. The clock striking midnight at the park, the bells rolling off in the distance. It was like it signified something to him. She watched his head turn around to her, his eyes wicked. Taking large steps, he approaches, rolling his shoulders in the same manner that he did when he picked his next target. Her eyes were wide, and she turned and tried to run, unable to process what he was doing. He grabbed her arm and pulled him to her, where he then backed her up into the corner of a garden and a doorway. Hands now on either side of her head, all she could do was look up at him and breathe. Even that was hard to do.
"You get your picture, finally sweet girl?" His voice rasped. "Get my good side, did ya? I get to take pictures of you next, right?" He said, taking the camera of her shoulders and lifting it over her head. He snapped a few photos of her before leaning in further, lips now brushing her ear through his mask.
"Would like to take different photos of you...if you're interested." With that, he turned on his heel, walking away now. Just leaving her alone with her thoughts... all she could think was-
And I get to do this again tomorrow.
part 2
Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist
#cod mw2#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#mw2#ghost#call of duty mw2#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#simon#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon x female reader#simon ghost riley x female reader#halloween simon riley#halloween#spooky#happy halloween#spooky season#simon ghost x you
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Fun fact: I actually rewrite and change whole scenes a lot. And last week when I lost hot water during the winter storm, in my longing to take a shower, I actually came across this old alternate version of a scene in Dreamcatcher… so as I sit here now, about to take a shower but ironically dragging my feet and dreading the work involved, I figured I’d share this fun little snip bit/blooper.
CONTEXT: Punz tending to Dream after he returns from Las Nevadas, injured and covered in slime.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Implied/Referenced Torture, Injuries, Profanity.
Punz rests Dream to sit on the bed before turning his back to grab medical tools. Thinking threw his next steps he voices clinically calm, “Dream, you should probably go wash off before we do anything about your injuries. Don’t want whatever that fucking slime is to like—fester in the wounds.”
He whips back around expecting an answer, but to his befuddlement Dream doesn’t reply, he just sits there looking at the floor. His eyes unfocused and clouded over, as if he isn’t seeing anything at all.
“Dream? Dude, you with me?”
“Oh right. Umm… I—I… Does that really seem necessary? I mean—it’s really just some scratches you know. Not really a big deal…” Dream mutters out almost desperately, not lifting his head.
Completely caught off guard, Punz sounds back stunned and confused with hints of worry, “What? What the fuck did you just say? Dream, surely you can’t be stupid enough to say that? Dude, we don’t have any idea what the hell this shit is. It could be dangerous. And letting it into your open wounds is not something I want to fucking experiment with.”
Punz, assuming he has convinced the man, turns back around and continues to organize and scrimmage for what he needs, not noticing that Dream has neither responded nor moved an inch. It’s not untill he goes for the enderchest that he catches a glimpse of Dream in the corner of his eye. He’s startled a bit at the sight of Dream completely still not fulfilling his request. Punz immediately stops noisily clamoring around with the supplies and spins around.
“Dream? Don’t be fucking stubborn with me. I’m really not in the mood, I’m already pissed that I couldn’t be there. Please just let me help.”
Dream doesn’t stir.
He just sits there facing the floor, shaking almost imperceptibly. His breath coming out in an uneven worrying manner. It’s at this point Punz finally realizes he might of fucked up.
“Dream?… buddy? You with me? You ok?… I’m here dude.”
The caring tone seems to break whatever trance Dream was in as he surprisingly admits, hushed and almost inaudible, “I—I can’t, Punz. I just can’t. You are right… but I—I can’t do it. I’m—I’m so—“
Not wanting to hear another fucking apology leave his lips, Punz cuts him off and asks softly, “What—why can’t you do it, Dream?”
Then noticing Dream’s breathing getting hitched at the question he adds, “Is it… Dream, is it like something—something Quackity did?”
Dream wavers then slowly nods still not looking up.
Right. That makes sense. Fuck. He’s an idiot. Of coarse Dream would have a hard time being under water. That’s a given. Hell, he even avoided showers for a week or two after he drowned to death in one of their tests. Oh god. How could he be so fucking stupid?
The revelation and implication crack into his rib cage and crush his heart a little bit. He didn’t know he could feel more guilty and outraged by the whole thing. But damn Dream can’t even take a shower for fucks sake. Not that he can blame the man in the slightest.
“Fuck… Right. Ok. That’s fine. We can just like clean up the best we can without it.” Punz responds encouragingly.
(for the rest of the scene and the version I actually went with check out Dreamcatcher)
#ah staged duo my beloveds#I wrote this last January that’s wild to believe…#let me know if y’all liked and want me to shared more bloopers/alternate versions :)#dreamcatcher#c!dream#dsmp#dreblr#dream smp#dsmp dream#dsmp fanfic#staged duo#c!stagedduo#c!punz#c!dream and c!punz#dreamsmp#c!dream and trauma#dang….guess that means I have to go shower now… such shift from last week XD lol#leftovers
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Enemies to Lovers part eight, I've given up on my coworker a little bit, she's stubborn and we're nearing the end, so it looks like she'll never love vil
Summary: Back at NRC, you start your new job, only to get some terrifying news
Chapters: one. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Nine. Ten. Epilogue.
"Y/N."
You were drawn from yourr thoughts by the voice of yourr soon to be employer.
"Hello, Azul," you said, looking up from your lunch.
"Good morning," he and Jade took the seats across from you, while Floyd picked Grim up from his seat next to you, and stole that spot.
"The second location will be finished on schedule, so I'd like to get your managerial training taken care of before the freshmen arrive. I assume you've been reading the papers I've been sending to you?" He raised a single eyebrow, and you nodded. "Good Y/N. Managerial training will be handled by Jade, and Floyd will train you on how waiting is handled in our establishment. That can wait until opening though, because I won't be sending any new hires to you right away."
Floyd made a humph sound as Jade covered a smile behind his hand.
"I was actually wondering why Jade or Floyd wasn't manager?" You questioned.
"Boring," Floyd rolled his eyes.
"I much prefer to work behind the scenes and observe how things run," Jade smiled.
"Agreed," came a smooth voice from behind you, and you turned to see Epel and his new Vice Housewarden, both looking ravishing.
Epel gave you a tight hug. "I missed you so much. Vil hogged all your time this summer," he pouted.
"From what I understand, you were also very busy, Mr. Housewarden," you giggled.
"True," he smiled. "Jade and Azul, I'm sure you already know a little too much, but I wanted to introduce you to my vice housewarden, Morgan. Morgan, that is Azul and Jade, housewarden and Vice Housewarden of Octavinelle, and that's Y/N, who's the prefect of Ramshackle."
"And when they die, I'm the prefect," Grim laughed gleefully, until Floyd gave him a light kick.
A Pomefiore student came running, and whispered something to the two of them, and they both nodded.
"We have to go, but since you all were here I thought I'd get introductions out of the way, see you later Y/N," and both of them walked off.
"Where were we?" Azul mused.
"Jade thinks everyone is a science experiment," you said drily, causing Floyd to giggle next to you.
"Ah, yes. You're training officially begins now," Azul said with a smirk.
….
Despite the last second training, everything went off without a hitch. As predicted, you didn't have time to learn waitstaff things until after the grand opening, but Floyd was a surprisingly patient teacher.
Your waitstaff training was nice because it took your mind off things, like the fact you still weren't going home, or how empty the school seemed without the troublesome third years you'd come to befriend….or how lonely it felt not being able to see Vil everyday.
You didn't want to think about that last one. It would be cruel of you to have dashed his romantic affections and then turn around and be like, "Hey, I'm still not into you, but I miss you, so you should make time for me."
He'd reached out to you twice in that first month, asking you how you were, how Epel was handling his new position, how your potions grades were doing, but you couldn't bring yourself to have a long conversation with him.
"Shrimpy," Floyd pouted, rousing you from your thoughts. "You gotta focus on me, or you'll never learn how to fold the napkins properly." Then he grinned mischievously.
"Although, I wouldn't mind being your teacher forever," he said slyly.
You laughed, and he brightened up again, and resumed showing you how to fold napkins, then proceeded to stand over your shoulder, and whisper encouragement while you showed what you learned.
"You're almost there, Shrimpy, you just gotta get those folds crisp," he brought his arms around you and directed your movements, leading to a perfectly folded napkin. You looked up at him, and noticed how close his face was, as he smiled softly at you.
"See?" He whispered, and he began to draw in closer, until…
"Y/N!" Someone shouted your name, running into the empty restaurant.
Startled you stood up, and missed Floyd's annoyed face, turning to see Epel running towards you, looking horrified.
"I just got a call from Rook," he said, breathing heavily. "Somethin's happened ta Vil!"
....
Tag list- @stygianoir @da-disappointment @shytastemakerthing @iruiji
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#twst vil
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could you possibly write an eddie munson x male reader fic where the reader is a goth femboy?
i rly enjoy your fics dude <3
Addition: "the reader has just moved in next door and he meets eddie and they bond over being alternative. they become close friends but after a few months eddie starts pulling away, when confronted about it he confesses his love."
Happy to give this a try! I'm sorry if it's not great, tried to get such a big topic without being overbearing on the length.
Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).
The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: “What about some fluff for Eddie after he’s had a long day?”
Feel free to look through my masterlist here!
_________________________________
It's not early when Eddie wakes up, but it's shockingly not as late as Eddie would normally sleep in on a summer day. There's no school to have to be up early for. His shift--shockingly grabbing a job for the summer stocking shelves at the local grocery store--isn't until tomorrow so Eddie's normal plans should be sleeping in, waking up when the sun literally could not be brighter and then slugging himself throughout the rest of the day.
But Wayne had insisted that Eddie greet the new neighbors. How Wayne knew someone was moving in before it actually happened doesn't shock Eddie. He assumes his uncle, like much of this town, is no stranger to work gossip. Someone knows someone who knows someone who blabs and before anyone can blink twice, the rest of the town knows.
So Eddie wakes to the midmorning sun and fumbles himself into fresh clothes. He doesn't care what he's got on as long as it's clean before he's sliding into the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some water on his. Content with the slight haggardness that ghosts his face, Wayne picks up the dish Wayne marked with aluminum foil as do not eat and heads the down to the end of the road.
The new neighbors are easy to spot with the pickup truck and a U-Haul trailer hitched to it. So Eddie takes the moment to look around to see if anyone is outside but no one comes out to the truth or leave, so he's careful as he heads up the steps and knocks on the door.
"Comin'!"
Eddie takes a step back at the sound of the voice to give some clearance as the door opens. Eddie's not sure what he was expecting when the door opens. Maybe he was waiting for someone to yell at him, ask him why he's disturbing them on their first day in the neighborhood.
But the black crop top and skirt are absolutely not the thing Eddie was expecting. The smile seems genuine that greets Eddie but he's still too stunned.
"Is everything alright?"
Eddie finally blinks at the question and shakes his head. "No, no, uh, I wanted to greet you to the neighborhood. Hand off this," Eddie states. "I know it's not a lot, but welcome."
Your fingers brush as you take the dish and Eddie swears something like electricity runs up his spine. "Thanks."
"Do-do you need help with any other stuff? Getting things inside or anything?" Eddie's not trying to be pushy but he'd like to spend more than just a minute at your door if he's honest. He'll take the no, it wouldn't make him angry. Though, it would make him sad.
You shrug. "Sure, I guess. It would make a big difference."
Eddie nods, his grin growing. "Put me to work."
And Eddie wonders, as he leaves your place later that evening after helping get the sofa and mattress in for you, if the universe has gifted him an angel or just another unfilled fantasy. That is, until, you come into the grocery store a few days later grabbing additional essentials and Eddie spots you--the platform boots giving you away before anything else amongst the short shorts.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Eddie teases, lifting the box back onto the pallet now that he's done stocking the lower shelf.
You laugh taking in the chains and Dio t-shirt peaking out beneath the red vest. "Looking pretty out there too," you laugh, grabbing a few cans of the soup.
"Those expire at the end of this year by the way. If you want some that'll last longer, go back a row," Eddie tells you, almost like he's on autopilot.
You nod. "Noted, thanks."
"Anytime."
The trips to the grocery store turn into nights spent at Eddie's place or at the arcade. By the time the school year starts, you're happy to have at least one friendly face that can greet you in the otherwise unfamiliar hallways. However, when you get there the first day, though Eddie does greet you, you notice it's with considerably less pep than normal.
Maybe he's nervous--especially since his friends are around, and you're willing to him the benefit of the doubt. The morning incident seemingly fades as Eddie shows you around the school, and even offers you a ride home.
But a day turns into a week, and a week turns into three. You sit at his table with his friends, who easily accept you into the fold, but the more you look over to Eddie the more you think he's a shell of someone you once knew.
"What the hell is going on?" you ask, grabbing onto Eddie's elbow and pausing him as the lunch bell rings.
"What-uh, lunch is over? Is it not obvious?" he gives a chuckle, but then he tugs back his arm and you let him have it back.
"No, I mean with you. We were just, this summer, hanging out and having a grand time, now you barely speak to me."
"I don't exactly have the greatest reputation," Eddie returns. "Not here at least."
You scoff. "And you think that I'm exactly looking to fit in," you laugh, gesturing over your outfit.
"You look great, shut up," Eddie huffs.
"Yeah, but I don't look like this to fit in. You don't have to spare me." Eddie's gaze still doesn't linger on yours longer than a second. He fidgets, like he's trying to find his opening to get out of the situation. "You're not telling me everything."
How could Eddie tell you everything? You were undeniably cooler than he was and feelings really only serve to get someone hurt. Eddie's not trying to get hurt again. He shakes his head. "Are-are we good here?"
"No, no we're far from good actually, Eddie. What are you scared of?"
A dry laugh leaves his throat. "It's pretty scary to know you have feelings for someone and not knowing if it's going to blow up in your face or not."
"Who? Who do you have feelings for? Why are you worried about it blowing up?"
Eddie's thankful for the moment the cafeteria is empty. His eyes settle back onto yours and it's with a deep exhale that Eddie surges forward, lips finding yourself. You freeze with surprise. How long had Eddie liked you? Had he always guessed the same for you about him?
Before you can think to reciprocate, Eddie is pulling away, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. "See. That's what--"
The sentence never gets fully uttered before you're surging in, hands on his face as you kiss Eddie. It's his turn to freeze in shock and then as your hands tug at the lapel of his jacket, Eddie melts into you, hands finding your waist and pulling you closer until the two of you are chest to chest.
The sounds of your kisses--lips parting only to find themselves slotted perfectly against each others again--echo around you in the empty room. Eddie swears his head it going to roll off his neck if he takes longer than a moment away from your mouth. But you laugh, bumping your nose over his as you maintain just a few inch distance from his lips.
"You're an idiot," you tease.
"If I had've know being such much of an idiot would reward this handsomely, I would've been an idiot a lot sooner," Eddie laughs.
You press another kiss to his lips. "Next time, talk to me, okay? Whatever's going on in that pretty little head of yours, I want to know okay?"
It's a simple sentence but it falls from Eddie's chest with so much sincrerity you feel it in your own chest. "Okay."
#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x male reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb#h writes#stranger things
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Kinktober Day 21: Training
Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist
Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader
Words: 845
Warnings: sex toy (dildo), references to anal and oral (m receiving) training as well as PIV sex, and double and triple penetration. Kind of dom!reader, kind of sub!ben
A/N: This follows on from one of last years kinktober posts - double penetration (1 hole).
The clone-a-willy kit ended up being one of the best things Ben had ever spent money on. You’d assumed that after Ben got back home the clone dildo would see little use until the next time he had to travel overseas for work, after all, you’d have the real thing instead. But you turned out to be wrong about that. You’d ended up preferring it to other dildos because it felt familiar and filled you as perfectly as Ben did. And, while Ben had first been drawn to it out of curiosity – getting a close up view of exactly what it looked like when he fucked you – he quickly came to realise its potential. The way he could use it to stretch you out and get you adjusted to his size, giving you an orgasm in the process, without risking cumming too quickly at the way you clenched on him. Which meant that you were reliably getting off from penetration twice as much as you did before the clone. So both of you agreed it had been worth the effort of making it. Ben seemed content to keep using it to fuck your pussy, but you had other ideas of how it could be used too, and you decided that you’d have to share them if you ever wanted to try them out. Either other ideas hadn’t occurred to him, or he didn’t want to come off as pushy or demanding, so it was up to you to make the first move.
You approached the subject gently after dinner one night, casually bringing up the clone as you put the leftovers into the fridge and Ben made tea.
Ben, assuming you were hinting that you wanted to have sex right then, turned and winked, “You like having two cocks to fuck you, don’t you.”
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes you closed the fridge and replied, “It is very fun, but don’t you think we could be doing more?”
“More how?”
“Well, I was thinking the clone would be perfect for some training.”
“Honey, you’re going to need to explain.”
You laughed, “Alright, well, you know my oral game isn’t necessarily all that strong.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed a little and he hummed, “This feels like a trap.”
“It’s not,” you assured him, “I know I can improve, and maybe practicing with the clone would help. I know dildos in general are a good for practicing on, but I think the clone would be even better. It’d be exactly like blowing you but without at much pressure. I could probably even learn how to deep throat.
Ben’s eyes widened this time, “You’d want that?”
You nodded, “Of course I would. I like sucking your dick and I’d love to learn how to do it better. The clone would be the perfect way to train me to take you. Specifically you.”
You heard Ben’s breath hitch and he ran his hand over the front of his pyjamas briefly. It made you want to push him further, see how turned on you could get him.
“And then there’s anal too.”
The teaspoon Ben had still been holding clattered to the floor suddenly, but Ben made no move to pick it up, too busy staring at you. His cock was much more visible through his pants.
“You okay baby?”
Ben blinked, “Anal?”
“Mmhmm. I thought maybe we could experiment with it, use the clone to help me adjust and learn. Train me to take cock in every hole. Your cock. Only yours.”
He made a little whimpering sound and for a moment you worried he was going to pass out from shock. Instead he reached for you, his hands settling on your hips as he tugged you in close. You could feel his hardon now, but decided he needed a little more teasing. With a light touch and as innocent an expression as you could manage you traced his length through his pyjamas.
“We should probably buy another clone kit too and make a second one. That way one can be to train my arse and one can be for my pussy and throat. And when I’m all trained up, I could try to take all three of them at once. Have you in every hole.”
Ben groaned, his cock twitching under your fingers, and you felt the fabric grow damp.
You giggled and pressed a kiss to Ben’s lips, “Good to know you’re so excited by the idea.”
“Fuck you,” he laughed before returning the kiss.
“I’ll help you clean up, shall I?”
“No, I can manage. You can go wait naked in bed for me so we can start your training. I’ll hold the clone while you go down on it until I'm hard again, which believe me will not take long, and then we'll see how well you can handle two cocks.”
“You sure you’ll be able to get through that without making another mess?”
“This is bullying,” Ben pouted, “You’re bullying me.”
You laughed, “Don’t worry baby, I like when you make a mess.”
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Chapter 2- Forgotten
Everyone stares at the tophat. The hat Caine never took off. Jax breaks the silence first.
"He's...really gone then, huh?" Jax says, almost sounding in...awe. My eyes snap to him. "Why are you happy?" I ask, voice shaking slightly. "He's the one who runs everything, who keeps this place together! Without him...this whole place could fall apart. W-what if someone abstracts? We'll be dead!" I rant, pacing in agitation. "Calm done, Breakdown." Jax drawls, his yellow teeth turning from a smirk to a frown. "DON'T TELL ME To CALM DOWN!" I snap, glaring at him, feeling a stabbing pain in my glitching hand. I hiss, dropping the tophat and lift my hand to my face. A strangled sound comes from the back of my throat as a familiar blackness starts to form on my hand. I watch as it slowly spreads, creeping up my arm like a swarm of spiders. my heart pounding in my throat. I can vaguely hear people talking, but can't focus on them.
"Help her.... abstracting!"
"Why... "
"Just do it...need..."
I hear vague grumbling, followed by a sharp pain on my cheek. I gasp, flinching and jolting back to reality- or, well, non-reality.
"Jax!" Gangle gasps.
"What? She's n0t abstracting anymo!e, is she?" Jax says smoothly.
"Well, yeah b-but...you didn't need to slap her! Y-you could have done something else!"
I scowl at the purple rabbit and rub my cheek. "We need to figure out whats going on. It seems like things are already starting to fall apart." I say, waving my glitched hand as proof, frowning as a thought hits me. "Huh. I'm surprised Ragatha isn't glitching too, since we both started bugging out that d-" I pause, looking around at the avatars surrounding me. A chesspiece. A tragedy mask. A rabbit. A jumble of random parts. But no ragdoll. "...Wheres Ragatha?" I whisper softly, my dread a rock sinking into the pit of my stomach. I'm met with silence. My breath hitches as I spin around and run back to the hall with all our rooms, heart pound@ng.
God, I was so stupid. I should have realized Ragatha would start glitching too, should have realized she was missing, should have gone to check on her- what if it was too late? Jax had been able to keep me from abstracting, but Ragatha had no one. She was alone, in her room, with her entire body glitching out when I could barely stand just having my hand be glitched. And that was assuming she was even still in her room. What if she had managed to crawl out to try and find us? What if I opened the door, and she was still there, but abstracted? I reach her room and just...stand there, staring up at the icon of her on the door. I knew I should try to open the door, but my one working hand felt like someone had poured cement over it and let it dry. I slowly raise it and a#d twist the doorknob-
It was locked. I twist it again, and again, but it wouldn't open. I keep twisting it frantically, even though I knew it wouldn't work.
"Don't worry Jester. I've got a key to her room." An arrogant voice says behind me. Jax smirks at me and kneels down, putting a small key into the doors keyhole. "The last time you said that, the person on the other side of the door was abstracted." I whisper, my voice cutting out. Jax's smirk fades just the tiniest bit. "Well, if it bothers you that much, then forget I said anything." He grumbles as a soft click emanates from the now unlocked door. He stand up, $rabbing the doorknob, though I notice her hand tremble lightly, his hand lingering on the knob for a beat too long before he pushed it open.
My eyes lock onto the first, most important thing they see: Ragatha. She was lying on her bed, body contorting and glitching, but she's still...her. Still a doll, not a monster. I rush over to her side, my hand going to tug the cuff of my glove, only to be met with a sharp pain. I wince, glaring at my bugged hand, before glancing back at the doll. "Ragatha, thank God your ok! Everythings all-" I gesture vaguely, unable to portray the situation.
"Everything's great." Jax drawls from behind me, smirking at Ragatha. "Caines gone." Ragatha stares at us, head twitching in a spastic manner. "C-cai-nes g-g-gone?" She manages to say, voice distorted. I launch into the story of what had happened after we all woke up. Ragatha seems more and more shocked as I talk, while Jax's grin grows wider and wider. "We don't know what happened to Caine, it's like he's just completely gone. And since he's gone, I-I'm not really sure how we're going to fix you, or my hand." I finish, tugging on the ends of my jester hat anxiously. "Honestly, I'm not sure how we're going to do anything anymore. I mean, Caine controls everything, right? So without him, everything will start falling apart- as if this place wasn't enough of a hellhole to begin with-" I ramble, laughing nervously.
"P-Pom-m-ni-i." Ragatha intersects, giving me a worried look. "Y-y-your ha-a-nd." I glance down, just now registering the tiny shooting pains that engulf my hand as it starts abstracting. Again. I feel my breathing quicken as panic floods my %ind, watching the abstraction slowly creep up my arm. Jax stalks over to my side with a small smirk. "Guess I'll get to smack you again!" He said cheerfully, raising his hand.
"J-Jax." Ragatha says quietly, in what I was starting to think of as the Mom Voice. Jax shoots a glance at the glitching ragdoll. "What? It worked before." He protests. Ragatha ignores him, her eyes focusing on me. "P-pomni, j-just ta-a-ake deep breat-t-ths and t-ry to c-c-alm down-n." She says slowly. I try to follow her advice, my breath catching and shuddering the first few times before settling into a normal, slow rhythm. "Thanks..." I murmur softly. The ragdoll offers me a weak smile in return. "W-we'll try to figure whats happening...and how to fix you." I promise, not quite able to meet her eyes. Ragatha had almost immediately forgiven me after abandoning her my first day here, but... there was still a bit of tension between us. I just...couldn't help being a bit suspicious. Part of me knew that the reason she was being nice was because she's a genuinely good person, but... it just seemed to0 good to be true in this hell. I couldn't help but keep my distance from the one person who might actually help me hold on to my sanity. "Nothing like this has happened before, right?" I ask, even though I alre^dy knew the answer, but I feel my heart sink a little anyways when Ragatha and Jax both shake their heads. I sigh, slumping a little before turning toward the door. "Well.... we should go check if Gangle or Zooble found anything." I say. "Just...um...yell if you need anything?" Ragatha manages a smile at me. "I'll be f-f-fine." The broken ragdoll reassures. I return a ha1f-hearted one in return, before walking out, Jax sauntering out after me.
"Have fun being on the edge of abstraction Dollface!" He says cheerfully, slamming the door behind him before Ragatha could answer. I glare at him. "Your not very helpful." I deadpan, stalking off. I hear his soft footsteps trail after me. "I'm very helpful!" He argues.
"Name one time you helped anyone."
"Well, I tried helping Ragatha get over her fear of centipedes..."
"Putting a centipede in her room does not count as 'helping' her."
"I tried to teach Gangle how to fly!"
"You pu&hed her off the stage."
"I helped Zooble rediscover themself."
"By taking them apart and hiding their parts around the circus?"
Jax stops and sc0wls mockingly at me. "Pomni, you wound me! Everything I do is with the purest intention!" I feel my lips twitch into a smirk against my will. I open my mouth to retort, but pause, feeling something was...off. I scan the hallway, trying to place the feeling. It wasn't a bad feeling... my eyes snag on one of the paintings hung on the walls, and I step forward, trying to find what had caught my attention. It wasn't anything in the painting that had made me feel off, but what wasn't there. "Theres no eyes." I say aloud, taking a quick look around at the various other paintings. Sure enough, there were no eyes in any of them. This who1e time in the circus, I always felt like I was being watched, but now...it was like one weight had been lifted off my shoulder, only to be replaced by another. Even when Caine wpuld sometimes vanish for a few hours, there was always something watching, always a pair of eyes tracking us from the dozens of fever dream paintings that infested the circus.
"Huh." Jax says behind me. I frown at the very un-Jax-like response, finding staring at a door with a mannequin on it. "Wasn't this Kaufmo's room?" He asks slowly. I b1ink, stepping next to him. "I...think so." I say, glancing at the other nearby doors. "I...yeah, this was his." Jax's eyes widen slightly, before taking off down the hallway at a brisk pace. "Nonononono..." He hissed, as we pass door after door. Each one had either a picture of a current member of the circus, or a mannequin on the door. There were no more crossed-out images of the people who came before us. Jax comes to a dead stop at one of the doors, staring at it. "No...no." He whispers.
"...Jax?" I ask uncertainly. "No...No, not her room." He hisses, wide eyes slowly narrowing. "God damn i*!" He snarls, kicking the door. I freeze, watching in confusion and a trickle of fear as he rams his foot into the door again and again, each thud echoing in the narrow hall. THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDthudthudthudthudthud-thud-thud...thud...thud...thud... his kicks slow to a stop, and I hear him take a deep breath. "Well, Hoo-ha's not gonna like this." He says in an unnervingly calm voice. "Who's room was that?" I ask quietly after a beat of silence. Jax turns to me, his smirk having a unstable edge to it. "Queenie's." He says simply, striding past me. "I kept some of my pranking supplies in there, so Caine wouldn't find it." He pauses for a moment before looking back at me. "Oh, and the others turned it into some sort of shrine thing? Asked Caine to spawn flowers and stuff to put in there. Kinger goes in there pretty often. Seeing how her icons no longer on the door, I'm assuming the room's empty." He adds nonchalantly, before resuming his pace. I stare after him for a moment, for hurrying to keep up with him. Before I can ask him anything else, he strides out onto the stage, smirking and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Hey misfits!" He yells. Zooble, Gangle, and Kinger all walk over. "We were only like 7 feet away. You didn't have to scream." Zooble grumb1es. Jax just gives them a cocky smirk.
"Pomni's got something she'd like to share." He says sweetly, pushing me forward. I stumble, shooting a glare over my shoulder. "Oh, but Jax, your the one who put two and two together!" I say with an equal amount of venomous sweetness, gesturing for him to step forward.
"But Pompoms, without you rea1izing something was wrong with the paintings, I wou1d have never figured it out!"
I grit my teeth, before forcing a grin. "Fine." I hiss, turning back to ev(ryone. "Well, first of all, Ragatha's...not abstracted. Which is good. BUT she's glitching, the same way she was after Kaufmo abstracted." I begin. Gangle makes a soft squeaking noise. "0h no! It must hurt her so much!" I give her a half-assed attempt at a reassuring smi;e. "She seemed...ok." I say haltingly, before hesitant1y continuing. "After we made sure she was ok, I noticed all the paintings in the hallway don't have those creepy eyes in them anym0re." I glance around at the scarce amount of paintings in the circus. From what I could see, there wasn't a single eyeball to be seen. "And it looks like theres none in these paintings either." Gangle's and Zooble's eyes follow mine, widening when they realize I'm right.
"So...he's not watching." Zooble muses quietly. I shake my head. "We have to assume so." I glance back at Jax. "I think Jax should take it from here-" I say, only to have him cut me off. "No no Pompoms, they all like you better than me. I'm sure they'd rather have you continue telling the story." He purrs. I hesitate, glancing at Kinger. Honestly I wasn't even sure he was listening. He'd barely reacted the entire time I was talking. But...Jax was right, I guess. I mean, nobody really seemed that fond of Jax, but Kinger did seem to 1ike me, constantly rambling about insects or physics or something else that was utterly useless but a bit interesting when nobody else took the time to listen to him. Hell, Zooble, Gangle and Jax flat-out ignored him 95% of the time. I take a deep breath. "And...Jax noticed that all the rooms that belonged to people who abstracted? All those rooms are...gone. Instead of having their icons on them, it's just an icon of a mannequin. Including...Queenie's." The last word comes out as a whisper.
Everyone reacts immediately. Gangle gasps and starts sobbing more than usual, leaning on Zooble, who's eyes widen in shock. I wasn't all that surprised. I didn't know much about Queenie, but Zooble had once mentioned her, calling her 'the most aggressive yet kind person' they'd ever known. She had been some sort of...mother figure to everyone here. Except to Kinger, to which she was something more. Kinger...I hold my breath as his unfocused eyes sharpen and snap to me. "W-what?" He asks, his trembley voice breaking off. "Uh...I-it's...not...Queenies room anymore." I say slowly, unable to meet that searing blue-eyed gaze. I can feel him staring at me, and feel a sharp pang in my glitched hand as panic and anxiety rise in my chest. "...Is the insect collection gone?" He asks suddenly, catching me off gua)d. I glance at Zooble and Gangle, who both seemed as surprised as me at Kingers strange calm. I pause, not sure exactly what he was talking about.
"Oh yeahhh, everything in Queenie's room is loooonggg gone." Jax drawls, striding past me to stand in front of Kinger. "That insect collection she had, the drawings Gangle made for her, Ragatha's and Zooble's poems...don't exist anymore." He smirks at Kinger. I lunge forward and grab his arm. Hard.
"What the hell are you doing?" I hiss. He brushes my hand off like I'm just some annoying insect that landed on him. "Just having a little bit of fun, Poms. As a jester, I thought you'd understand." Before I can do anything, he just turns and walks away. Which was probably a good thing, seeing how I was on the verge of punching him in the face. Kinger stares at nothing for a long beat, before starting to vibrate. I reach out to touch him, but pull away. I just...didn't know what to do. Just like my first day here, abandoning Ragatha. I just never knew what to do.
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Umineko EP3. Replay Part 5
Well yeah Battler, you got it! How did the other Golden Witch get her powers then?
lmfao owned.
Man Virgilia and Ronove really spoil Battler with all the hints.
Rosa and Eva speaking in code is pretty good, neither wants to leave the room without the other....
The fact Rosa shakes a bottle in frustration in trying to find something that isn't there while being angry at Maria for being mad that something isn't where it should be is pretty ironic.
Obviously this scene didn't literally happen and something closer to what actually happens is something like Eva telling Hideyoshi about the gold and her plans and etc while being disgusted by her own greed, while at the same time going deeper into it....
Maria's random insistence at this to me seems like a sign that this is something Yasu and Maria had pre-planned. If there was a deadlock taking place, she would cry about her rose, similar to how she used the cards to break deadlocks in episode 1 and 2. Though I don't think it would work like they intended this time if Eva didn't like, fuck things up her own way.... I don't think Yasu would murder Rosa in front of Maria and I don't think she would like, shoot Maria either....
Well.... obviously the truth is something in between here. Eva may not be enjoying tutoring Rosa at this moment, but she is surely having a fight with her about keeping the secret with her, and pushing her into the fence in frustration.... and then murdering her daughter to leave no witness. Granted, I don't think Eva would just go on a murder spree normally.... I think of it as something kind of like Meakashi Shion. The murders wouldn't have happened if the first accident didn't.
I.... forgot Battler just tells her to kill herself omg.... this scene is kind of interesting. i am kind of interpreting it as what Yasu was scared Battler would think of her when she found out about her murder mystery plans... we know from episode 8 manga that he is all things considered pretty forgiving of it, in actuality. But I could see Yasu thinking this is how it would go down or even what went through his head at first before stopping himself and thinking of what led to it. Also Beato will get to get her wish of seeing what Battler cooks in episode 8!
Of course she is exaggerating for her trick strategy, but I don't think this is too far from what she thought about herself, either, and it's not like she wasn't cruel with her pranks and stuff so it isn't entirely unwarranted, but...
I imagine she probably did apologize to Maria something like here when she found her corpse and had to fix it up, too....
Obviously, though, you are supposed to be very sus of Beato here lol. I mean she turotred Kanon like, a couple hours ago lol.
It's really funny how it seems this specific act didn't really trick anyone lol - sorry Yasu I guess you kind of failed.
There is a clear difference in my view in how the family acts towards the murder in this episode and the last one. In this one they more or less figured out both this and the first murder - compared to how in the first 2 episodes everyone was clueless. I think in universe you can justify this with there being more servant deaths and therefore less culprits to worry about and also you can theorize that Yasu assumed her plan would go without a hitch - something Tohya knew wasn't true.
Eva's desperate to throw suspicion elsewhere lmfao.
tldr people don't believe in magic anymore so to make them believe it you have to make very obtuse murders.
It is kind of funny Hideyoshi doesn't realize what is going on even though it is decently obvious, lol. Also, Natsuhi is freaking out because their reasoning is stupid - and I mean it is if you take it at face value, maybe you should have thought about it Hideyoshi!
"Until that question could be dealt with, the only answer was[...] magic" Is an interesting line. The answer to this sequence of events is obvious, Kyrie and Rudolf are luring out Hideyoshi.... so if this is framed as magic, it tells you how magic is used in other situations, and to go back to other magical scenes and see what you can take from them.
I kind of wonder how Hideyoshi was able to kill both Rudolf and Kyrie, especially at such a disadvantage. I guess he didn't come unscathed, though, considering he died. So it could be as simple as a bullet missing. him or him attacking before Rudolf and Kyrie were ready.
Uh huh, Kyrie... you can tell both this was written by someone with love for Kyrie and Rudolf and that they are someone who knows Kyrie might uh, have some issues.
To be honest, I originally took this to mean Eva literally did show herself and caused the shootout where she was the one survivor when I first read it... I guess I was being too literal when I read this for the first time. It's more of a general representation on Eva's complicated feelings towards her family, the gold, etc coupled with her fucking up the board.
Kyrie is more or less wrong about everything she says here, Rudolf was not in any remote way cornered, in fact if anything he was cornered *towards* dating Kyrie and he still picked Asumu. Kyrie was never anything more than Rudolf's side and they only ever got together officially because Asumu happened to die. To be honest I can't exactly blame rudolf for thinking Kyrie would kill him for revealing the truth.... he would in fact kind of deserve it.
I kind of want to use this scene to springboard to talk about misogyny in Umineko in general - specifically the ones experienced by the mothers. This entire chapter is basically an essay on how Eva faces misogyny, Natsuhi was basically sold and used as a womb, Rosa was left by her husband and forced to deal with how society treats single mothers, Kyrie has shit with her family as well as Rudolf both depending on her while using her as a side piece and feeling emasculated by her, etc. really all the women in Umineko are greatly affected by misogyny. And since Umineko deals a lot with generational trauma and cycle of abuse that is also how misogyny is passed down in Umineko
Eva yells at Natsuhi about how she is just a womb, tries to use the fact George is male and Jessica female to steal the headship from Jessica, and that's even before the awful way they treat Shannon.
Natsuhi refuses to engage with her daughter as a full person with a variety of interesting and own personality and instead tries to mold her into a "proper" and "modest" woman.
Rosa tells her own daughter she is the reason her father left and blames her for the people she is dating not wanting to deal with her.
And finally, Kyrie throws endless shit to Asumu and basically has a headcanon about how Rudolf is blameless and Asumu was just a homewrecking whore who got in the way of her and Rudolf, when Rudolf is obviously the one at fault.
I don't want to make it look like I am saying these are basically the same characters or anything like that, there is a lot of difference in motivations behind why they do this, in how they cope with it, etc, but I mostly discuss that in other posts so I don't want to go into that much details.
I think Umineko overall deals with misogyny in a good way- it understands that misogyny isn't just a Big Bad Old Fashioned Man you have to defeat, and afterward misogyny is solved, it isn't something you can just defeat by just changing the way you think or whatever but a system built in favor of men that gets internalized by everyone, including women, and that those attitudes are internalized and passed to the next generation before they can so much as even talked.
This is a little bit of a tangent but related to how all of the characters previously talked about are both victims and afterward abusers or otherwise people that harm others, I am happy that WTC works in general aren't shy of showing how abuse can be internalized in bad ways that cause harm to others while still holding sympathy and space for the victims. A lot of works are scared of this because if done wrong it can look like victim blaming or ignoring victims in favor of abusers, but I think works like this are really important for victims to understand that some imperfect behavior after being abused is normal and that they aren't irredeemable and can grow themselves if they ever fail and do bad things.
holy shit I went on a huge tangent. I haven't played in like 2 days because I got the idea to write this 2 days ago and have been workshopping on my brain how to word it.
Anyways back on regularly scheduled Umineko, it is kind of funny how the first time humans really 'win' against magic it's not really presented in a positive light. They won because their vices were even worse than the vices of the stakes representing sloth and envy.
Beatrice struggles about dancing around the fact she just wants Battler to acknowledge her for her own sake, lol.
they have hinted like 10 times that the chiester sisters = gun in the last like 20 lines lmfao.
They are dropping a bunch of hints towards what Beatrice actually wants here. The awkward conversation with EVA meant the same thing more or less too.
This scene's interesting - I am sure Hideyoshi in actuality DID feel Eva was being changed by the gold into a crueler person but everything points towards him being pretty enabling overall. Also Hideyoshi hints towards magic and witchdom being about being unable to deal with the past.
Also there is a line that says "The gun near rudolf killed Hideyoshi (paraphrasing) which is kind of interesting considering the manga says it was Kyrie instead.
The fact Eva is freaking out this much about Hideyoshi going outside - even before she knew that Rudolf and Kyrie followed him is a hint that she was recruited, I think. After all, when talking with Rosa she said she thought the original murders were a prank, and she was the one that killed Rosa and Maria so.... why is she freaking out now?
Ok yeah - she's using Yasu keywords like 'Golden witch" and witch in general on a nonfantasy scene. Definitely some hints towards that I think. i didn't catch that Eva was an accomplice in this episode until I read the manga, to be honest. Thought she'd just murdered people on her own. Definitely didn't trust Yasu at all though, didn't even tell her she found the gold.
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Being Bold : Wanda Maximoff
Summary: Wanda decides to be bold and wear her new ball gag in public… hidden behind her mask… during a pandemic.
Like almost everyone nowadays, Wanda had to get used to the new normal of wearing a mask whenever she was outside. She had them in various colours and styles, also one to pair with each of her most worn outfits. However, one accessory that had recently become a part of her outdoor outfits, was her neon pink ball bag.
Since coming to the US, Wanda had slowly but surely fallen for all things bondage. She loved the way it looked, her lips framing the shiny gag in her mouth. It made her feel vulnerable and even submissive, a feeling she never thought she would experience. Walking around in public, gaged behind her mask, was something Wanda enjoyed immensely. Going for longer walks each time she tried it, just to push herself, though only when she went out alone. Despite the growing confidence that Wanda had found within herself, she was still petrified of being found out, whether that was by an Avenger or a member of the public. Wanda didn't know what would be worse, but regardless being too bold with it wasn't worse than the risk.
The actual purchase of the gag had occurred just a few weeks or so prior, Wanda had been aimless scrolling through her phone, courtesy of SHIELD when Tony Stark had ‘requested her presence’ as FRIDAY had put it. Assuming she was about to be reprimanded for something, a slip in her training performance perhaps, thankfully he had handed her a credit card. A card allowing Wanda spending freedom, again funded through SHIELD and government grants to the Avengers programme.
“We've all been given one, don't go too crazy.” He had joked.
“Says the billionaire.” She retorted back, in good faith.
“Do as I say, not as I do.”
After that, as she took the elevator back up to her room, Wanda wondered what she should treat herself to. HYDRA had never given her any freedoms, never mind with money, they were loyal soldiers not paid ones. It was as she unlocked her room, that her mind arrived at something. Her own gag, like the one she’d seen in videos, pictures and the online forums she had joined. It was a small enough item that Wanda could easily hide, but also fairly cheap enough that Wanda wouldn't feel bad buying it with SHIELD’s money.
On the fifth week of owning and wearing the gag in public, Wanda had started her day off with some breakfast in the common room, dressed in a pair of pale blue, ripped jeans and a grey V-neck tee, when Natasha confidently walked into the room.
“Oh Wanda, perfect, would you mind picking up my new Widow Bites. They're just at the SHIELD HQ, I’d prefer to go myself but I'm swamped with paperwork and I want them for training tomorrow. Can I trust you?”
“Of course, Natasha. I was meaning to go for a walk anyway today.”
“Great, thanks, Wanda. I’ll let them know to expect you.”
“Well, at least this will be a good way of proving myself to Nat, maybe even go some way to winning back her trust.” Wanda thought as she made her back to her room.
Opening her nightstand drawer for her pass and dark grey mask, Wanda touched her gag pushed right at the back.
“I could wear… No, I can’t I'd be going inside a SHIELD building if someone were to see it would… But then how would anyone know. Ah fuck it, I’ll wear it.
Pulling it out, Wanda unbuckled the strap and positioned the ball between her lips, the pleasing smell of rubber hitting her nose, and as she passed the straps behind her head and under her hair, the telekinetic revelled in the feeling of the leather straps against her skin. Covering it up with the mask, Wanda checked herself in the mirror before locking her door and taking the elevator down to reception.
She passed through reception without a hitch, simply nodding to security at the doors before stepping out onto the streets of New York. The walk to the HQ was only a block or so, and Wanda soon found herself at the doors of the building. As she walked up to the security barrier, the Scarlett Witch suddenly realised that she would have to give her name and reason for being there. That would give the game away since she obviously couldn’t speak with a gag in, it wasn't big by any means but still near-on impossible to form words behind. Thankfully, she was recognised and all the guard did was nod as he waved her through. Better still, it looked as if someone was waiting for her at reception.
“Follow me please Ms Maximoff.”
Wanda nodded and followed the women through some double doors, and into a waiting area.
“Wait here, please.” The assident said, before quickly disappearing.
Sitting down, Wanda relaxed, “That could’ve been really bad, I got very lucky.”
As Wanda sat and waited, her mind wandered further along the thought train, what if she’d been found out by the security guard. Would he take her to a back room to be questioned further, maybe he would go further, bend her over his desk and fuck her from behind. “ Oh god, that would be so fucking hot. Being punished for being a naughty girl, by a stranger.”
“Ms Maximoff?”
Wanda’s head shot up, pulling herself abruptly from her fantasies. A lab tech with an impatient look was staring at her.
“These are the Mark 7, Widow Bites.” He continued handing her a metal briefcase.
With the ball gag preventing her from speaking, Wanda simply nodded before taking the case. The technician looked strangely at Wanda, before leaving the room.
Wanda’s mind immediately jumped to the possibility that the techie knew that she was wearing a ball gag, even though there was no evidence to show that she was. It was then that Wanda’s body betrayed her, a bead of saliva dripped down her chin, just as she headed back to the lobby. Wanda decided not to wipe it off, for fear of giving herself away; however, the fact that the technician might know about it did make Wanda even hornier. Therefore, as she walked back up the security barrier, it was then that her body betrayed her again, as she felt wetness start to pool between her thighs. Squeezing them together, Wanda’s body betrayed a third and final time, as a small but audible moan drifted out of her trapped mouth.
“Are you okay?” The security guard asked.
“Mmm-hmm.” Wanda tried to reassure back, her response ending more like a moan, as she started to think back to her fantasy with this burly, muscular security guard. “For god's sake Wanda, get it together.” Wanda thought as she walked out of the building as quickly as she could.
Almost running back to the Tower, Wanda raced through reception and into the elevator, letting out a sigh as soon the doors closed. Leaning against the wall, Wanda quickly wiped away the saliva on her chin. She reached to remove the gag, but quickly stopped herself, FRIDAY monitored the elevators and she didn't want Tony Stark to see her removing her gag on CCTV.
Hurriedly unlocking her front door, she dropped Natasha’s breifcase on the kitchen counter and skidded into her small bathroom. Taking off her mask, Wanda surveyed herself; her ball gag and chin were completely soaked in her salvia and some had even dripped down onto her t-shirt. She could feel a growing wet spot forming over her panties, likely contrasting starkly with her white cotton panties. Wanda felt a mixture of shame and arousal, but in the end, decided to throw out her dignity completely by moving her hand under her jeans. As Wanda began to rub herself through the panties, she started massaging her breasts through the tee. She kneaded and groped at her boobs, letting her loud moans escape through the gag, not even trying to hide them. As she pinched at her nipples, she thought again of the security guard, and how she would’ve loved for him to have taken her home and made her his. She rubbed harder at her clothed pussy now, pushing and grinding at the inside of the panties. Feeling herself about to cum, Wanda pushed her fingers down her panties and bucked her hips against them, giving her boobs one final hard squeeze as she came. Wanda allowed her body to slip to the tiled floor, letting the orgasm flow through her body, while she kept thrusting her fingers.
After coming down from her high, Wanda looked down at the wet patch proudly displayed over the crotch of her panties, finding her fingers just as sticky when she pulled them out. Finally removing her ball gag, she sucked her fingers clean savouring the taste for a moment, before she stood on shaky legs to give Natasha her equipment.
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5 for the ficlet prompts thing? 👁️👁️
5. sickly / sweet <3 this feels a bit like cheating but i wanted to write this for you (ao3 link)
Summer is the worst season to be hopping across rooftops in a tight and sweaty suit, no contenders. And this being Gotham, the world's favorite horrid weather magnet, the humid summer storms are frequent and unpredictable. It's easier—smarter, and safer—to assume there will be one than not.
Yet for all the years of his life that he's spent here, Tim hasn't learned that lesson. Not that there's much to do when the sky breaks open mid patrol other than swear and complain while Barbara laughs at him, but it pisses him off how he still manages to get surprised each time.
It's July and the summer is in full swing, and Tim feels like a heavy, wet rag left to dry out on the sun, except there's no sun and he's climbing up a slippery wall with the heavy cape dragging behind him like a weight. He reaches for the railing of his balcony and pushes himself up and over it, and falls unceremoniously on the wet surface. He gives himself a moment or two of pitifully staring at the bottom of a clay pot (used to hold a lemon tree, a liven-this-place-up gift from Bart, but it hasn't agreed with the Gotham weather, either) before scrambling up. It's a humiliating picture he paints, but thankfully it's close to midnight and the street isn't lit and no one seems to be around and Tim doesn't remember leaving the lights inside the living room on.
He panics for a second before he recognizes her. Rather, he goes through the mental list of people who'd know how to dodge or work through his alarms without a hitch, and then sees her face illuminated by the laptop screen and thinks, Jesus fu—
“What the hell?” he yells, loud enough for it to be heard through the glass. She doesn't even twitch. Tim swears again and starts taking off his drenched suit. One of his boots ends up thrown next to the balcony door and he's dragging his leg out of the sweaty leggings and it's a pain in the ass and she's just sprawled across his couch like she owns the place—and technically, he guesses, she does.
“What the hell?” he asks, again, as he limps in. Might be a rude way to greet a person he hasn't seen in a year, but it's the nicest thing he could think of beside You're the last person I wanted to see here tonight. Should I order Chinese?
Though it seems she's taken care of that already; there's a bag of takeout on the coffee table and there's… a cheap looking store-bought cocktail right next to it. She pays no attention to him, apparently busy with Tim's work laptop that she must've gone downstairs in the cave for, bypassing all alarms—that at least is evidence enough that it really is her.
She shrugs. It's nonchalant with the ease of the movement, but he can see the barest hints of tension in her shoulders, in the permanent crease between her brows. When she speaks, her voice is deeper than he remembers it. He can't tell why that catches his attention. “Thought I'd stop by. A no-occasion visit?”
Right. Right. Dammit.
Tim puts one foot atop his other and drags his leg out of the second boot, wincing as he shimmies his bad ankle through it, and she picks that moment to look at him for the first time since he walked through the balcony door. One quick up-and-down that leaves him feeling naked and open like a cracked egg.
Something must show on his face because she adds, quickly, “We figured out a way to pull this smoothly since the last time. Don't stress about it.”
That's extremely not what he is stressed about. Mostly. It's good to know, still, and he can read between the lines and recognizes this as a thinly veiled promise that she'll be getting out of his hair by tomorrow morning. He would prefer it right now, actually, so he can shower and bury himself in a pile of pillows and blankets and sleep through the whole night like a baby as was his plan. It could have been wonderful. It could have been majestic. He's been daydreaming about passing out throughout the entirety of tonight's patrol—Bruce even let him off thirty minutes early, something Tim would usually scoff at, but tonight he took it for the gift that it was.
“You smell like a wet rat,” she says, like Tim needs more reasons to not want her here. “Look like one, too.”
Tim flips her off. She laughs, which is a whole and solid reaction if nothing else. The sound fills the room and the dumb, childish part of him preens with pride at the knowledge that he got that.
She turns back to her—Tim's laptop, and takes a sip of her drink. “You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.”
“You're not welcome.”
She might be, on some other, sunnier day. Not tonight though, because Tim knows exactly what her presence tonight means and what she's trying to pull. And it won't work. You can't magic everything that's been said and done by doing one single thing right. Tim would know; this is precisely the sort of thing he'd try to pull too.
He does desperately need a shower. A guy got in a good kick to his jaw, dragged his brass knuckles hard against his skin, and the blood from it has been slowly drying and sticking to the edges of the cowl, and he's two seconds away from tearing the suit in pieces to get it off himself from how overheated it's getting beneath it.
And he really, really doesn't want to fucking deal with this.
He kicks himself into motion; routine movements, one leg, the other, cowl off—hurts, stupid—drops the whole thing on the bathroom floor to be dealt with later, walks around the flat half naked for a minute or two to breathe and not steal glances at the person on his sofa in his stolen clothes that actually fit her, which bothers Tim in that way an irrational annoyance in the back of your head does.
She pays him no mind, one hand on the touchpad and the other drumming fingers against a plastic bottle in her hand. There's fruit drawn on it. It doesn't look familiar, not something Tim would have seen around Gotham grocery stores.
“I'm gonna shower. Don't touch my stuff,” he says, mostly out of habit. It's what he'd say while pointing a finger at Damian or Cass at times when they crash at his place, and would get an unimpressed look or a vaguely mocking yeah, yeah in return. A scoff from the living room doesn't reassure him any more—it's actually worse. He'd give everything for a Damian in his kitchen right now instead.
It's a longer shower than he usually takes. The steam fogs up the bathroom, and he gets a blurry view of his face as he wipes the mirror with his hand; a bit too sunken, angular, and yet exactly the same as before. He doesn't feel a day older and he feels a hundred years old and he supposes he should be glad he's lost any soft edges, as it makes him look more like an adult—finally growing into yourself, is what he's heard people say—but mostly he just feels like it's betraying him.
There's a spattering of dried blood at his temple that he missed, somehow, and he scrubs at it slowly, not in a hurry to deal with not having his apartment to himself even more than usual. There's something especially terrifying about knowing he has nothing to hide and still feeling cracked open by the middle with all his messy insides on the display for her to inspect and prod at. She's the last person who has the right to judge him—she's also the person who can do it the best.
Tim doesn't like admitting when certain circumstances or people get to him, but he can't lie to himself; her presence rattles him thoroughly like he's nothing but a bag of bones. He just folds.
She must have showered here too, before he arrived, because his towel is damp when he reaches for it. He stomps down the spike of anger that rises at that thought and pulls out a fresh, dry towel. It's not like she did it to annoy him. She totally did it to annoy him. He can't tell exactly how self-absorbed that makes him.
It's still pouring outside when he emerges from the bathroom, rain kicking against the windows loudly She pulls her feet to herself as Tim sits down on the other side of the sofa, hair still wet and dripping down his shirt. The sense of déjà vu is so strong it's ridiculous. He doesn't point it out because he knows they're both thinking it.
Like she read his mind, she says, “We gotta stop meeting like this,” between two sips of what Tim can now see is a smoothie. The click-clacks of the keyboard don't stop or slow, her eyes don't move an inch from the screen that illuminates her face in a way that makes her presence seem… bigger, genuinely imposing. But it makes her look more tired, too. It accents the dark bags underneath her eyes and the slight creases by the edge of them that Tim doesn't have yet. There's a tiny pale scar across her upper lip that wasn't there the last time they bumped into each other.
Which, Tim is pretty sure they gotta stop meeting at all, full stop. They're definitely breaking like a minimum of ten protocols by simply being in the same room together. And usually Tim cares fuck all about protocols but this—this scares him, still. There's a thin line between a presence soothing and nauseating, and twenty-nine year old Tim Drake is standing directly on it.
He always has this nagging feeling that she's laughing at him, even at times when she's clearly not. She's half-lying next to him with his laptop on her lap and not even paying attention to him—has barely moved since he came in, and has even given him the bare minimum of dignity and not gone through more of his stuff, which is miles better from how their first meeting had gone.
He doesn't say anything, exhausted and still reeling a bit that he has this to deal with on top of a bad night, though she doesn't seem to expect him to. Deal or reply. A good thing about this is, he can at least trust that she has a pretty solid rundown of what's going on in his head. That had been a difficult truth to come to terms with.
She offers him the bottle of her blueberry and banana smoothie. It feels like a sort of placating gesture he's only getting because she can feel his discomfort no matter how hard he tries to keep his face blank; he gives himself away just by being and well, Tim has always sort of wanted to be anyone else.
The drink is a gross purple-ish color when he squints inside. He's never seen this brand before, so he figures she must have been holding it when whatever threw her here from the future struck. The label on the bottle insists that it's fresh fruit but the taste of artificial sugar leaves Tim sure that it hasn't been fresh for a day of its sad sugary life.
If ten years from now he turns into a person who willingly drinks teeth-rotting sweet smoothies, maybe he's fine here as he is, actually. He downs the rest of the drink.
There's a brief moment where Tim thinks that maybe he's managed to get under her skin, but the hint of annoyance that crossed her eyes is gone as quickly as it appeared. This, among many others, is one of the reasons Tim can't stand her: she's near impossible to shake up and it's almost as infuriating as the knowledge that he'll never grow past 5'6.
The aftertaste is pretty bad, makes his mouth feel like it got an instant coating of sugar all over, but it's certified future-beverage and he can appreciate the novelty. The bits of fruit are scarce and tiny enough to swallow and ignore which he does appreciate. Another thing he's not growing out of anytime soon, it seems.
“God, I forgot how shitty laptops were at this stage,” she's muttering as she works and it hits him then why her voice struck him as weird at first: it's closer to his own than he remembers. He wants to ask about it—knows that it's invasive as hell but what stops him in the end aren't his good graces but the knowledge that she wouldn't tell him anything about the future, even such inconsequential detail that concerns them and only them.
(For what's not quite the first time, but a rare occasion certainly, he finds himself wanting to know this person. Wondering who she is on a daily basis and if she still prefers scrambled eggs to omelette. Their hair is pretty much the same length but she wears it better—carries herself better, even dressed in his own clothes in a place out of her time, there is a base firmness to her every move that Tim feels he lacks. When he'd borrowed her staff to parry a blow mid fight, it weighed the same.)
He taps the top of the laptop and asks, “Which one should I get?” and watches her almost answer before she catches herself and kicks him in the thigh instead.
A loud alarm blares from underneath a pillow where she tucked her phone away. She swipes it away and gives him a look. Tim, determined to pretend there's nothing worth paying attention to, stares at his own phone and ignores her as she fills them two cups of the cocktail she brought. A text from Dick, two from both Cassie's, Bruce—he puts his phone down just in time to be handed a drink.
He wraps his palm around the cool, almost too full glass, debating just throwing it all back and going to sleep when he catches her looking at him expectantly, holding her own glass to him. Tim stares at her for a moment before clinking his glass against her and taking a sip, too thrown off to remember his initial plan. He grimaces; she grins, eyes crinkling with what Tim can't deny is joy. “Cheers.”
It's worse than the smoothie, somehow it tastes sticky and he can't sort out the ingredients except something citrusy, but he drinks it out of some sense of dignity or whatever. The realization of why she's here has sunk in and he's… feeling sort of detached. He's been pointedly not thinking about it. Now, it's impossible. There's cheap alcohol in his hand and she's pulled out a bowl sized cake from behind one of the takeout bags and put it between them, two forks stabbed in the top of it.
“How's it feel?” she prods. Tim rolls his eyes. It's a stupid question that she knows the answer to. “Being twenty?”
“How's it feel being thirty?”
She stuffs a big piece of cake in her mouth. “Pretty alright, honestly.”
God, Tim hopes he gets there. He bites his cheek at the thought alone, feeling uniquely ridiculed and ashamed, even though he knows that's not the point of this visit. It's just—it's hard not to feel inadequate next to her. Even though he's seen her get beat and yelled at and watched her yell herself hoarse in a voice that sounded a bit too close to someone else, but through it all she carries herself with an air of a person who's got it. Has cracked it.
Tim—present time, newly twenty years-old, a tangled up mess of too sharp corners—hasn't cracked shit and he doesn't know shit. If anything, he feels like he knows less with each passing day.
The cake at least is pretty good, if a bit unbaked in the middle. It's more of a bigger brownie in a bowl than it is a cake, which makes sense, as he's never been much of a birthday cake person. “What's with all the sweet stuff?”
“I know you like it,” she says, and when Tim doesn't reply, adds, “You'll learn to appreciate it.” Shrugs. “Or not, I don't give a damn.”
Except she clearly does, at least enough to come all the way here.
“You jumped through time and space,” he sighs, stabbing at the crumbling remains in the bowl, “To give me a cake.”
“A reminder.”
He scoffs. “Of what?”
She only looks at him, but Tim can tell what she's thinking. You are here, you are alive, breath after breath, and you will be so for many years to come.
She says, “I couldn't remember shit from my twentieth birthday. Wondered why.” She tilts her head. The hair tucked behind her ear curls as she does so, a bit frizzy from how it's been left to dry on its own. “I think I got it now.”
There's a smugness in her voice that doesn't come through the expression on her face. Quieter, she adds, “And… I guess I wanted you to remember it.” Tim gets that; it felt like an opportunity to mend something. Who wouldn't jump at the chance of making amends with the past? “You'll appreciate it one day.”
“You know, each time I think you've said something nice to me, the condescension bleeds through and kind of ruins the effect.”
“You're too easily condescended to.” She knows him too well.
Tim falls asleep with the sickly sweet taste of the shitty cocktail in his mouth, and by the time the sun comes out he has his apartment to himself again, and there's a message left in his laptop's notes app that he won't read until curiosity eats him away.
#today i offer you words that cater to me and britta only. tomorrow who knows#i know the prompt was like for a micro-fic but i wanted to write this it was fun#ty britta i hope u enjoy#ask#my writing
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Jackson
*you were still so confusing to Jackson, not sure how you went from being so flirty and persuasive one moment to so shy and demure the next, wondering if it had something to do with him and his presence, not sure if he should take it as a compliment or not, but he surely couldn’t deny that seeing you looking up at him like that drove him fucking crazy, his eyes darkening just a bit as he towers over you, you seeming smaller in this moment and he wasn’t quite sure why, but he knew he loved it* Apparently you do. Good to know for the future, I suppose. You will be invited again if this is how you perform here. *he gives you the smallest hint of a smile before he follows your gaze, narrowing his eyes and smirking a bit to himself as the other man immediately turns, Jackson’s eyes locking on yours again* I don’t think he will be a problem… and if he is bothering you, let me know. *his gaze got a bit more intense as he said those words, this sense of needing to protect you washing over him as he looks at you, wising you knew exactly what he’d do to that man if he came near you again, especially without your consent* *he nods as you say you were going to use the restroom, taking in your scent as you moved by him and his hand was suddenly moving on it’s own accord, reaching out and gripping your wrist gently, the daintiness of it sending him reeling but he tried to keep composed* Thank you, Hannah… for the check. *the moment felt like it went on forever but in reality it was probably only a few seconds before he was coming back to reality and dropping your wrist, not sure how you were going to react*
------------------------------------------
*the air felt thick and buzzing just looking up at you, it being harder and harder for me to deny my attraction to you now and that just made a wave of guilt wash over me when i think of Matt waiting for me back home* *smiles a little as you say i’d be invited again taking that as a good thing and figuring that would be as far as your gratitude went* *sees Flint turn away when you caught eyes with him, wondering what that meant and looking back at you with a confused but curious raise of my brow at your words, wondering if you’d said something to him or even how you could be so confident he wouldn’t approach me* Okay. *murmurs softly, looking back up at you and seeing that your eyes had clouded a little, stomach twisting as they almost pulled me in, finding myself drawn to you the more we spent time together* I’ll see you later. *murmurs, assuming we’d part ways again to continue networking, offering you a small smile before I go to move past you towards the toilets, suddenly stopping and breath hitching as you grab my wrist, my skin immediately raising in goosebumps and my eyes flicking to yours in surprise, something about the behaviour seeming so impulsive and sensing you were even surprised by your action* *breath hitches a little as you look at me like that and thank me, heart pounding in my chest as I glance down at your hand wrapped around my wrist before looking up at you again, biting my lip softly as I wanted to reply that I didn’t get the money for your benefit but I knew that would be a lie, all I wanted was to impress you tonight* You don’t need to thank me, just doing my job. *whispers breathlessly, this moment feeling anything but work and I wasn’t sure I wanted it to end* *feels a loss when you drop my wrist, heart still pounding as I look at you once more, my gaze open and vulnerable before I turn and head towards the bathrooms, needing a moment to breathe again*
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5 Secrets of a Happy Marriage
Addressing how solid your relationship is?
Some time back I was perusing one of those articles about entertaining things kids say, and one of the children posed the inquiry, "How could a more peculiar let know if two individuals are hitched?" and he replied, "You could need to figure, in light of whether they're shouting at similar children."
Indeed.
That about summarizes it
Since however much we ponder the stroll down that long focus walkway wearing a lovely white outfit our own rendition of Wedding Day Barbie, with overwhelming joy in our heart the truth before long sinks in that occasionally marriage is hard. Furthermore, those gleaming 8 x 10 photographs from the big day that sit outlined on our shelves are the main thing that remaining parts of everything we could ever want of being the best hitched couple of all time. You realize that couple that sits clasping hands across the table at an
eatery while they toss their heads back in chuckling?
Now and again I can't stand that couple. In any case, here's 5 key things you can do to make a cheerful marriage and satisfying relationship for yourself as well as your accomplice.
This is a peculiarity known as genuine marriage.
It's not as beautiful and doesn't necessarily in every case fit extraordinary photograph operations, however assuming that you figure out how to embrace it you might view that as it's stunningly better than whatever you envisioned.
Indeed, it's more chaotic and loaded up with more disaster, chuckling, trouble, and bliss than you envisioned, however it additionally brings the solace of realizing you have somebody close to you to impart life to; every one of its victories and battles included.
5 Insider facts of a Cheerful Marriage
My better half and I have been hitched for sixteen years at this point. It hasn't forever been simple and I'm certain there have been days or even years when we doesn't know how we will come to the opposite side, yet we've shrouded it in a ton of supplications, requesting that God give us the strength and shrewdness and tenderness we want to endure one more day. And afterward one more year. What's more, until the end of our lives.
The following are a couple of things I've advanced en route:
Try not to Surrender to Correlation
This was a major one for me. At the point when we initially got hitched we were companions with one more hitched couple that did everything together; like even went shopping for food as a unit.
What's more, it concerned me that we weren't that way.
To exacerbate it, I didn't believe that Perry should go out to shop with me yet I saw this couple and thought they had something we didn't.
Also, they did.
In all actuality they delighted in working that way. It worked for themselves and they flourished in a relationship where they did everything together.
Be that as it may, Perry and I are both autonomous and like getting things done without help from anyone else at times.
We enjoy separate leisure activities and interests and that is not a problem.
Try not to see another person's marriage and allow it to characterize yours.
The grass isn't generally greener on the opposite side and your marriage is pretty much as interesting as your DNA.
What you accomplish may not work for others, but rather you're not hitched to others.
Settle on the decisions and carry on with the existence that is appropriate for you two and relinquished your assumptions of what marriage should resemble.
Trust me, you'll be such a great deal more joyful that way.
Safeguard Your Time Together
This one is so natural before you have children.
At the point when it's simply you two and you're allowed to head out to the motion pictures or eat calm meals that don't include chicken strips at whatever point you need, it's not difficult to remain associated.
Be that as it may, after you have messes with it requires somewhat more exertion.
Remember to cut out opportunity to spend all together.
Those children that can require up each moment of your time will be gone one day and you would rather not look across the table at a more odd mate's while you were caught up with driving carpool.
Carve out opportunity to sit on the love seat by the day's end and talk.
Exchange keeping an eye on with another couple or smooth talk the grandparents and have an evening out on the town.
Simply ensure you don't disregard the relationship that acquired you the children the primary spot. Eventually, a sound marriage is the best gift you can give your kids.
It's an inheritance that they won't actually be aware to appreciate until they're developed, yet it shapes all aspects of their lives.
Make sure to Snicker
There are bills to pay and issues to settle and children to potty train. Be that as it may, remember to giggle since, can we just be look at things objectively for a minute, in some cases life is ludicrous and I figure we improve when we find opportunity to recognize it.
I've generally said my better half's redeeming quality is that I actually believe he's amusing.
Only one out of every odd day, fundamentally, however frequently enough that I'm as yet happy he's the one that gets back home to me consistently.
Make each other snicker. Furthermore, extra focuses on the off chance that you can make it happen and stop a moronic battle you were having a moment before.
Pardon and Continue On
Probably the greatest battles we've had all through our marriage are the ones that come after one of us (normally me, truth be told) has allowed hatred to develop over a ton of seemingly insignificant details that then turned into something major. The before you know it, we're hollering at one another over the water bill and that isn't even the genuine issue on the grounds that the genuine issue started a month prior when I thought he wasn't helping me enough around the house and being by and large childish.
Speculatively talking
Also, in some cases we want to heed the guidance we give our children and "utilize our words".
Tell them when something is irritating you or has harmed you when it works out, and not a month some other time when you've stewed over it until you're prepared to detonate.
And afterward - this is a major one - pardon them.
Perhaps of the greatest acknowledgment I've come to throughout the years is that my better half is never purposefully attempting to hurt me.
He might say or accomplish something coldhearted, yet never intentionally needing to outrage me.
Pardoning is a colossal key to a fruitful marriage. At the point when we clutch hatred and outrage, then, at that point, any seemingly insignificant detail can resemble a match tossed on a gas can.
When you've really pardoned them, you want to let it go.
we maintain that they should do likewise for us?
It's Generally a Work Underway
At times I find out about couples who are getting separated from following 35 years of marriage and consistently sort of feel like, "Why?" since it appears as in the event that you've made it that long, you can stay with it for the span.
Yet, it's an update that marriage is a steady work underway. We never show up at an end goal and proclaim that we have shown up and are successful.
It's a day to day vow to think twice about pass on to our own childish cravings and recall that we live with another human who might make us insane in light of the fact that they just utilize a portion of a paper towel and leave the other half on the counter, yet that we promised to cherish them for better or for more regrettable until the end of time.
At times the way in to an effective marriage is working at it in any event, when you don't feel like it.
It's caring our mate when they appear to be loathsome and recollecting that we probably won't be a cookout to live with either a few days.
At last, God gave us this individual since he knows our assets and shortcomings, and where we are needing an individual who will refine, hone, and improve us than we would be whenever passed on to our own particular manners. It's not generally simple, yet eventually, it's dependably worth the effort.
Hoping to assemble a few decent new propensities? Positive or negative, propensities require reiteration.
When they become constant, they become programmed! They never again require additional idea — we just do them. Embrace these 10 propensities to change your life, as a matter of fact!
To recap, the following are 5 Privileged insights of a Cheerful Marriage
Try not to Yield to Correlation
Safeguard Your Time Together
Make sure to Giggle
Pardon and Continue On
It's Generally a Work Underway
In the event that you love this asset, make certain to look at our advanced library of supportive apparatuses and assets for cleaning quicker, assuming command over your spending plan, arranging your timetable, and getting food on the table simpler than at any o
My folks are two months from celebrating 67 years of great times, incredible times, miserable seasons of marriage.
I had 22 years, complete, yet 16+ long periods of marriage before Dave's demise. Kinship was the establishment for our marriage; we pursued 6 years before wedding and first became incredible companions.
Figuring out how to say, "please accept my apologies" is far superior to saying, "I love you" particularly when the virus winds blow.
Dave and I decided to wed, decided to remain wedded, decided to place every one of our eggs in the other's container.
Somebody once told us, "I've become hopelessly enamored with _." Later, I took a gander at Dave and inquired, "Have you at any point fallen head over heels?" He gawked and answered, "No, yet I think I've stepped in it a few times." Champagne and roses are great; being treasured is better for every one of you and for the long stretch.
(Sorry for the covers… I'm NO tech and no piece of information what I've done.) marriage registration in delh
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Ten Signs You Need a Sex Makeover
Too many wedded ladies live video sex lose interest in sex since they continue to have single-lady sex. It seems OK then that wedded ladies should figure out how to have hitched lady sex.
Well obviously the consuming inquiry at the forefront of everyone's thoughts is, "What on earth is hitched lady sex and how would I have it?"
Tragically, a central issue generally gets missed. Ladies should initially manage any gloomy sentiments she has towards sex before she can push ahead with wedded lady sex. The usable word here is "work", not push down, overlook or deny.
At the point when the handy solution truck is put before the charisma horse, a lady will intensify her low sex drive disappointment. A typical model is when individuals request that I show them new "sex stunts", figuring it will mean really fascinating sex and a higher sex drive. Wrong response. Long periods of unsettled, unacknowledged room disappointment will smother any happiness gathered from provocative new moves.
A low sex drive isn't similar to having an influenza something you can "move past" rapidly or with a pill. Sexual craving isn't something you feel simply before sex. Every one of the things circumvent the sexual experience: your desire, your inspiration, and your actual desire to associate in sex.
Add to this the way that sexual longing and sexual excitement are not indeed the very same. Sexual excitement alludes to the physical and mental vibes that outcome from sexual feeling. Sexual craving is in the mind, while sexual excitement is the body-state-both need to work as one for a lady to need to have intercourse. If one or both are even somewhat off kilter, no sex.
Everything comes down to you loving the individual and maintaining that sex all together should have intercourse. Sound too oversimplified to possibly be valid? Not actually. For the typical couple (i.e., couples who aren't encountering uncommon difficulties), a major indicator for any relationship is the closeness and sex that couple is having. Assuming something is messed up actually, expertly or in the relationship, the sex will show it.
Having single-lady sex: grip and snatch the problem areas, center around climax and let the man's necessities start things out (in spite of the fact that men are not to blame for our sexual socialization), will do scarcely anything for a lady's slacking sexual craving or excitement. Single-lady sex depends on an affection medicated, fired up drive. Following two years, the affection drugs wear off and the lady is stuck having the normal, worn out sex, which turns out to be increasingly uninspiring.
So the following are ten signs that your sexual coexistence could require a makeover-there could be 1,000 signs on this rundown.
(1) You see a youthful couple kissing and canoodling and you recall affectionately, "I recollect when…"
(2) Your person gives you a little sleep time nooky elbow-bump and you Clint Eastwood-like frown at him and snarl back, "Go for it. Fill my heart with joy."
(3) Sex? What Sex?
(4) You count the days between sex to figure when now is the right time to have responsibility sex.
(5) You freeze up when your accomplice energetically contacts you since you don't need him getting "some unacceptable thought".
(6) You begin purchasing the ten-pack of grandmother style cotton undies from Costco.
(7) You just at any point do it preacher style since it streamlines the kinks and fat during sex.
(8) On a without-kids end of the week escape, engaging in sexual relations once a day is way too insane.
(9) Tucking into a decent romance book is far superior than the genuine article.
(10) Hot and irritated possibly happens to you now when the indoor regulator is broken.
How could you do? Sex makeover required?
At last, we can address the consuming inquiry, "What is hitched lady sex?" first of all, she feels like she is an equivalent in the room. Neither her sexual craving nor her excitement is gotten from moxie. She feels sufficient sexual self-assurance to step it up and step up in the room. Sex effectively squeezes into the setting of her bustling life, where the ideal measure of sex works for her as of now in her life.
Indeed I know. Nothing concrete, just hypothesis and what benefit is hypothesis when there is no beginning spot? Well here are a few inquiries to bite on:
How long have you been with your accomplice?
What number of additional years do you expect to remain with him?
What is what is happening?
What might you like your sex to be?
In particular, what is the hole between the two sexual circumstances?
It is this hole you really want to truly live video sex investigate and deal with together before you can have an existence of fantastic wedded lady sex.
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WIP snippet from untitled steddy hands piece below the cut (though this section is gen)
Descending onto the deck the next morning, Izzy leans on his cane and tries to stifle the worst of his limp. His foot is healed now, at least for the most part, but the injury flares up from time to time, more often than not after raids. Ignoring it is his preferred solution, but when the pain shot up his calf and left him stumbling to catch himself on the cabin door, he conceded that a bit of support may be necessary.
Really, he should have fought harder to keep aboard the crew from Ed's kraken stint. Sure, they were rough and brutal and perhaps a bit less professional than Izzy would have liked. But they also could have started the morning shift without Izzy breathing down their necks from the first light of dawn.
"Mr. Spriggs," Izzy sighs, spotting the man leaning on the mainmast and smiling to himself as he doodles something in his ever-present journal. "I assume you have a good reason why you aren't repairing the sails." He raises an eyebrow as he looks to where an errant cannonball had put a hole in their top foresail.
Lucius huffs, shrugging his shoulders as he snaps shut the log. "Yes, Izzy, I'm actually very busy..." As he looks up, his gaze settles on the cane in Izzy's hand. His lips press into a thin line, jaw clenched. Then, he shifts his weight to the side and crosses his arms. "But it can wait. I guess. While I, um, fix the sail."
"Glad to hear it." Izzy walks over and sits on the steps to the quarterdeck. "Now, get to it."
"Right." Lucius stands with his hands on his hips, head tilted upward toward the sail. At least he appears to be looking at the right one, which Izzy takes as some minor improvement. "I definitely know how to get it down, but, if I didn't, just hypothetically speaking, how would you do that?"
Izzy rolls his eyes and puts his palms on his knees, bracing himself to stand up again. Not a fucking moment of peace on this ship. "Ivan can show you."
Lucius waves him off. "I can go find him."
"If this is some kind of ploy to get out of work..." Izzy starts.
But Edward takes this moment to appear from wherever the fuck he's been. He puts a hand on Izzy's shoulder and shoves him back down. "He said he would do it, mate. Let him handle it."
Izzy grumbles, but lets Lucius go as Edward settles down beside him. Ed flinches a bit as he does, taking a hand to his knee and massaging it around the brace. The weather is fickle this time of year, all too often leaving Ed with aching joints and Izzy with a pounding in his skull he can't ever shake.
"Getting old, Iz," he says as he leans back on the step behind him, spreading his arms wide across it. "See what this shit does to us?"
"Not the years that did this one, Edward." Izzy shuffles his foot as he says it, not wanting to be mistaken but unable to fully bear the burden of the truth spoken aloud. That Edward did this, left another mark on Izzy that he will carry forever. That sometimes he thinks he might be nothing more than a collection of Edward's marks, arranged in the shape of a man.
"Yeah." Edward's breath hitches as he carries on. "Suppose that one was me." He taps Izzy on the shoulder, waiting for him to make eye contact before he continues. "I'm sorry. I don't know if I've said it before, but I am. I was fucked up. About Stede and all that. But you're my best mate. I, uh, I shouldn't have done what I did."
Izzy shudders the impulse to just walk away from this conversation. They don't talk about this sort of thing, as a rule. He runs a hand across the handle of his cane as he taps it on the deck. "'S what it is," he bites out. "I shouldn't've said what I did. Done what I did. Could have expected worse, on other ships."
"This isn't other ships. You didn't deserve it."
He didn't. Izzy fucking knows that. But... "Since when do we get what we deserve?"
Lucius, somehow sensing the worst moment to appear, takes Ed's brief silence as his cue to stroll back across the deck with Ivan in tow. He stops by Izzy to hold out a dented mug. "Here. Thought you might like some morning coffee."
Izzy takes it hesitantly, venturing a sniff and then the smallest of sips, as he tries to judge what might have been done to it.
"It was just a nice thought, you suspicious bastard." Izzy just glares at him and so Lucius sighs, melodramatically shrugging his entire body as he does. "This is the part where you say, 'Thank you, Lucius.'"
"Get back to work."
"I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee," Ed cuts in. "If you're offering."
Lucius curls his lip. "I wasn't." He spins on his heel and marches away without another word. Ivan shoots Ed a sympathetic look, but follows Lucius all the same, gesturing to the rigging as they cross the ship and presumably explaining how the running lines all work.
"Just there," Ed chuckles. "That's an example of getting what I deserve."
Izzy furrows his brow. "It's insubordination is what it is."
Ed just grins, that kind of amused look that Izzy hasn't seen in far too long, that lights up his eyes, that sparks with genius. With his beard still short, he looks like he did when they were both young and foolish and far too bold.
He looks like the kind of man Izzy could fall straight to hell for.
Edward sits forward to take Izzy's coffee out of his hand, ignoring any protest and scrunching his nose as he takes a sip. Unlike some people on this vessel, Izzy is a grown man and he takes his coffee black. Not whatever concoction of sugar and cream Ed tries to claim is preferable.
They pass the mug between them as the rest of the crew files on deck and reluctantly resumes their posts. Izzy barks a few orders, which are actually heeded for once, with Edward at his side. Finally, the world in order, if only for a moment.
That is, until the mug runs empty and Ed taps Izzy on the shoulder as he stands up.
"Right, then. I think you should take the day off, Iz."
Izzy's cane clatters to the floor. Ed scoops down to pick it up and then lends Izzy a hand, pulling him up to standing. "I don't think that would be appropri-"
"Captain's orders! And we wouldn't want any more insubordination, would we?" He winks before he turns to cross the deck, nearly skipping if not for his knee.
And Izzy is left to figure out what the fuck a day off means.
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Wedding Date- Sherlock Holmes x F!reader
Pairings: Sherlock Holmes x Fem!reader
genre: fluff
warnings: guns, mentions of murder, blood? stabbing, bad writing
A/n: idek what this is but seemed more fun in my head, also we should all worship Sherlock in A Scandal in Belgravia
Dead silence. Sherlock didn’t move an inch when John asked him to be his best man. Sherlock was surprised and horrified at the same time. John may have thought for a split second that Sherlock might be having a heart attack.
“Oh and you need a date, I can set you up with Mary’s-”
“No!” Watson almost fell of the chair at the detective’s loud disagreement. Sherlock was already in deep shit when john asked him to be his best man and the last thing he needed was to throw himself off the building because of some random girl John fixed him up with.
“Well you have to go with someone.”
“Not really”
“You’re the best man Sherlock, you need a date.”
“Fine!” the brunet surrendered. “I’ll bring a date”
“You’ll bring a-” John’s mouth was gaping open. Who could he, Sherlock Holmes possibly bring? “Alright then” John walked out of 221b leaving Sherlock to his thoughts and his tea with…an eyeball.
Sherlock paced around the small flat with his phone in his hand, one specific contact pulled out, he knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of it, but it was a better plan than going to the wedding with a stranger who he’s sure he was going to deduce in 2 seconds, and drive them away “hey Y/n/n” he pulled out with a fake smile plastered on his face.
“What did you do now William?” the voice of a young women played as music to his ears, you probably won’t hear it from him but he thought her voice was better than the music he played.
“Why’d you assume I did something?”
“You pulled your greetings like you always do when you do something stupid”
“okay yes, but I didn’t do anything but…” he paused for a second before speaking up “will you be my date for john’s wedding?” he spoke every word together, which couldn’t be deciphered but the woman he spoke to was used to this.
“I don’t know what if-”
“Your team can go a week without you, please Y/n please love, please, please” he pleaded profusely making the woman on the other end laugh and he knew he had her.
“Of course I’ll be there”
“Thank you so much darling.” He hung up with a smile on his face. It was official Sherlock Holmes was going to take Y/n L/n as his date.
All the way across the Atlantic when the minute the phone was hung up Y/n L/n smiled giddily as she spun around in her office chair. It was official Y/n L/n was Sherlock Holmes’ date. Well most of the giddiness she had was over the fact that Sherlock called her “love” and “darling” it wasn’t unusual, she was used to him calling her that but that doesn’t make her any less flustered or giddy when he does.
“Where’s your date Sherlock?” John asked as he, Mary, and Sherlock stood at the entrance of the reception venue.
“Oh relax John, she’ll be here, probably got delayed with her work, she’s slightly bit more of a workaholic than I am.” he commented casually making the newly married couple wonder who she was.
“oh I heard that you little shit” a accusing voice was heard from beside them, the first thing John and Mary noticed before they could even see the girl was that Sherlock Holmes was grinning like an idiot. Sherlock turned around to see the woman and god his breath hitched very visibly.
There she stood: a beautiful blue dress hugging her more beautiful curves, smiling widely at the detective. Sherlock swore time stopped, it was just him and her, it was quite inevitable Sherlock fell in love with his best friend, of course he didn’t know that when he was just 17, after time when she had left for America it was Mrs. Hudson who pointed out that the rare feelings that Sherlock felt was Love after all. And being Sherlock, he didn’t believe it. “Did you take a leave or did your boss beg you to leave?” he teased her as she walked towards him.
“of course I took a leave” she scoffed standing before the couple, wishing them a happy married life and introducing herself to them knowing Sherlock never mentioned her to anyone in his life after she left for what they called “safety reasons” when she finally turned to look at the man with an amused smile on his lips she sighed “I took a leave after my boss ordered me to” she admitted defeated but a small smile still gracing her face
“Ha! There it is!” the woman turned to John with a grateful smile on her face, wrapping the doctor in a small hug.
“Thank you for taking care of him. It’s a surprised he’s not murked yet” before Sherlock could interject she pointed a finger at him “no I meant killed killed William” she laughed, making the couple laugh too before John stopped abruptly.
“Wait William?”
“Oh y/n dear! You’re here! I knew Sherlock would call you!” y/n turned around to see a familiar older woman, before she could even greet her Mrs. Hudson had wrapped her up in a big hug.
“I’ll kill you” she mouthed to Sherlock who snickered at her as Mrs. Hudson pulled her away.
John and Mary watched in astonishment at the bond the two had. John had just met her and saw her and Sherlock together he knew the two definitely fancied each other…a lot.
Mary on the other hand saw Sherlock when no one else did: the way his eyes lit up when he heard her voice, the way he acted as he teased her and how his eyes were still on her long after she left with a fond smile on his face and most of all she was the one who noticed Sherlock’s bracelet, the one he wore every day and told everyone it was a nice piece of jewelry matched the one the woman wore to a minute level, she was no master of deduction, although it doesn’t really take a master of deduction to see that Sherlock was in love with that woman. “What?” Sherlock looked at the couple who smirked at him.
“Who’s she to you again?” john asked with a teasing smile.
“My best friend, we grew up together” the detective muttered, the tips of his ears rosy. “She moved to the US when we were 20…Oh come on John!” he flailed his arms comically once he realized what John was trying to say. “You too?” He looked at Mary who shrugged, stifling her laughter, the detective sighed “it’s that obvious?”
“Profoundly”
“Oh thank you that’s comforting” he shot back at the couple who just laughed at him, Sherlock looked down at his phone when it pinged, alerting him of a message
“Save me, molly is talking about her sex life. Jesus” Sherlock smiled at the text before he realized his involuntarily response to everything Y/n l/n did
“Please go, no one’s stopping you” the couple laughed again as they watched a very flustered Sherlock Holmes make his way to the woman he love.
“She’s got him wrapped around her finger” John commented as he smiled at his wife “just as you have me wrapped around yours”
Y/n watched as Sherlock looked rather annoyed at frustrated at the caller on the other side. She sighed: Mycroft. “Hey” she approached him, he looked at her with a sad smile.
“It was-”
“I know” she whispered, kissing his cheek as she hugged him.
“Everything changes Y/n” he muttered, she knew what he meant, it was same thing he felt when she moved across the ocean for her dream.
“I know” she pulled away “but isn’t it changing for the better?” Sherlock plainly nodded at her words “it’s going to be okay William” she smiled, her palms pressed to his face, bringing his head down, she kissed his head while stroking his cheek. Sherlock felt like he was going to explode, his heart fluttering at her attempts at comforting him. “It’s time” she informed with a smirk
“It’ll take me two minutes to dash out” he spoke nervously.
“No you won’t, now off you go” she shooed him and leaned on the door frame as Sherlock awkwardly made his way to the table. It was going to be amusing.
“Pray silence for the best man.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends ... and ... erm ... others.Er ... w... A-a-also ...” Sherlock locked eyes with Y/n who looked at him with a comforting smile
“It’s okay” she mouthed nodding, Mary was the one who noticed the small interaction between the two as Sherlock nodded back at her.
“Right, um ... First things first. Telegrams. Well, they’re not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don’t know why. Wedding tradition. ... Because we don’t have enough of that already, apparently…right” he quickly stopped himself when he saw the woman by the door narrow her eyes at him. It wasn’t long before he got bored reading the telegrams, Y/n covering her mouth trying not to let her controlled laughter out. And when Sherlock started telling absolute bull to the guest about his reaction when john asked him to be his best man
“Lies” she loudly coughed, the guest laughing as Sherlock glared at her, his smile showing he felt otherwise.
Time had passed with Sherlock’s speech now turning into stories, y/n intently listening as did the others “you! The beautiful woman in blue! Any ideas?” Y/n and Sherlock smiled at each other as Sherlock asked how the private was stabbed. John was shocked at how similar the two were when it came to thinking.
“the killer never had to escape, find a way in or out. What if the killer stabbed the vic, but was never there when the private died?” she spoke after a moment of silence, Sherlock looked at her impressed and proud
“That’s…possible”
“That’s not a yes”
“That’s because frankly I don’t know the answer” Y/n gasped pulling out her phone and pointed it at the lanky man.
“Can you say that again? I need to get this.”
“Oh shove off.”
“Enough you two! Always bickering.” the two fell silent at Mrs. Hudson’s scolding. Nothing new.
“Sorry Mrs. Hudson!” the two sang in unison making the other guests in the room laugh.
“There was one feature, and only one feature, of interest in the whole of this baffling case, and quite frankly it was the usual. John Watson – who, while I was trying to solve the murder, instead saved a life.”
“On second thoughts I probably should have told you about the Elephant in the Room. However, it does help to further illustrate how invaluable John is to me. I can read a crime scene the way he can understand a human being. I used to think that’s what made me special – quite frankly, I still do. But a word to the wise: should any of you require the services of either of us, I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life. Trust me on that – I should know. He’s saved mine so many times, and in so many ways.” Y/n smiled at the duo sitting in front of her widely “This blog is the story of two men and their frankly ridiculous adventures ... ... of murder, mystery and mayhem. But from now on, there’s a new story – a bigger adventure. Ladies and gentlemen, pray charge your glasses and be upstanding. Today begin the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson. The two reasons why every single one of us is ...”
Y/n noticed the man freeze in place and she knew, something was wrong. Something wrong and Sherlock figured it out. And if he did? She did too. She flinched when she heard the glass smash to the floor and looked at him and nodded, telling him silently she understood.
Leaning up from the wooden frame her hand brushed the holster on her thigh, aware of the gun strapped to it. The Mayfly man was in this reception and someone was going to die. Sherlock jumped over the table as y/n walked forwards, analyzing each and every guest in the room.
The second John and Lestrade were made aware of the situation it took barely a second for Y/n to change her complete persona, her work persona.
It was the Major, Sherlock looked at her as he raised the glass for the toast, and used the noise to cover the truth the major was going to be killed. Sherlock made his way to her “the photographer.” he spoke into her ears, she nodded firmly when she noticed the said photographer leaving the room quietly.
“Excuse me.” she pushed through the guests the other way as Sherlock John and Mary went the other to make sure the major didn’t die. The photographer realized she was behind him and moved faster, once they were away from the guest and in a secluded Y/n took her gun out cocking it making the man freeze “hello there” she grinned when he sighed in defeat his hands on his head.
“Sherlock where’s Y/n?” John asked him once the crisis was over, Sherlock looked at him and shrugged
“I sent her after the killer.” Sherlock looked at his friend casually
“You what?!” he stressed “why would you do that, just send her after him?”
“It’s nothing john she’s-” a loud thud stopped their conversation. There stood Y/n with the man, his locked hands being held by her as she pushed him to the ground “told you” Sherlock smirked at the man “great work agent”
“Thanks” she blew her hair off her face as she put the safety on the gun and holstered it back again
“Wait agent?”
“I’m CIA, John” Y/n laughed revealing her occupation, Sherlock letting out a chuckle looking at the shocked expression the doctor held.
“Just when I thought Sherlock had normal friends.”
“You know better than to put Sherlock and normal in the same sentence.” she snickered, Lestrade and Mary coming in to see the scene before them.
“She’s CIA!” john informed the new comers excitedly
“That makes so sense.” Mary commented, the two women laughing
“Jonathan Small-” everyone listened as Sherlock showed off…sorry explained.
Couple’s first dance: watched by all, except Y/n her eyes were clearly fixed on Sherlock who played the violin gracefully, their eyes never once broke contact, the others were too focused on the dance to notice the look exchanged between the detective and the agent.
Conversing with Molly and her boyfriend Y/n noticed a familiar tall man trying to get out of the venue without anyone noticing, Y/n politely excused herself going after the brunet “did you really think you can slip out without me noticing?” she smiled at him sitting in the passenger seat of the car without any warning. Sherlock just shook his head, extending his hand for her to take, and she did, she laced her fingers with his nimble ones as they drove in silence back to 221b Baker Street.
"Sorry for pulling you away from the wedding" he apologized earnestly, Y/n and Sherlock stopped by the staircase of his flat.
"I enjoyed it, besides I wouldn't stay there knowing you need me, so here I am" she shrugged.
"you enjoyed it because there was a murderer on the loose?"
"what? no it's a wedding William, don't be ridiculous!" she grinned knowing he saw right through her. "more or less"
“I believe I owe you something” he spoke once they entered the flat
“What?”
“a dance” she looked at him funny, seeing that he pulled a funny face “Is it wrong to have a dance with the woman I-” the air was knocked out of Y/n’s lungs, she moved closer to him, hoping she was right, they were barely inches apart.
“You what?” she pressed
“The woman I love” he admitted, he could’ve easily deduced that she was in love with him too, but he promised he wouldn’t, so it scared him, not being able to read her.
“I believe a dance with the man I love is overdue William” she whispered so softly it was a surprised he heard, he acted quickly by holding her face, pulling her in for a kiss.
Their first kiss.
It was as magical as she thought it was, finally being able to tell him that she loves him. His lips perfectly made for her, it was heaven. It was the angels singing in the background. It was the slow music in the background as she swayed in his arms, their body fitting like puzzle pieces.
Y/n L/n and Sherlock Holmes.
#john watson#sherlock x reader#sherlock bbc#sherlock fanfiction#sherlock holmes imagine#benedict cumberbatch#benedict timothy carlton cumberbatch#dr. john watson#john wheeler#mrs. hudson#mary elizabeth watson#mycroft holmes#imagine#x reader#sherlock x you#the mayfly man#the sign of three#london#cia
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Peanut Butter and Extra Jelly [T.H]
Summary: Tom’s long time crush on you becomes painful when you and Harrison are cast as love interests in a movie.
Paring: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Warning: Suggestive themes, fake smut (very light), jealousy, probably some typos, swearing
a/n: i have no idea how filming a movie, or auditioning for one actually goes so don’t crucify me for this. i’m pretty happy with how this turned out, especially considering that this is the most i’ve ever written for a fic. also, Burt Kreisher is one of my fav comedians in real life, he has 3 shows on neflix and a mini series.
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Tom was not a jealous person. At least, that's what he always told himself. He prided himself in thinking he was a very level headed individual who didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. That worked best for his job anyways; always being able to control his emotions and not get in his own head. That simple, pacifistic mindset seemed to change when it came to you.
You were one of the many actors Tom got the pleasure to help hone their technique and work closely with. You were new to the lifestyle of Hollywood and the only roles you had before were in small indie films that never garnered too much attention. The first major role that you landed, which also happened to help kickstart your career, was in the MCU. You played the secondary villain in the third Spider-man movie.
Meeting the cast was a dream come true; they were all extremely helpful and they provided tons of tips and tricks in navigating the hectic schedule required for such a huge production. By the time filming wrapped up, you were considered part of their little Spider-man family.
Tom was easily the most helpful. Whenever he saw you struggling with anything, he offered to help. You two spent hours upon hours together in his trailer, ordering take out and practicing lines. Some nights you two planned to work through your script, but inevitably ended up falling asleep binge watching The Office, and laughing about crazy shit that happened on set that day.
When the movie wrapped up and you went home for a month before the press tour, you were completely unsure and nervous about what direction your career was going in. You auditioned for a few new movies, but had yet to hear from any of the directors about casting decisions. You kept in touch Tom during the month you were apart and expressed your concerns.
“I don’t know, Tom. I’m just so sick of waiting around and hoping that some director out there throws me a bone, ya know’?” You said on facetime, while making cookies.
“Yeah, I totally understand that, (Y/N/N). I had that issue a couple years ago before the Marvel movies. Trust me, you did outstanding in that role and once it gets noticed I’m positive you’ll have directors calling you, begging for you to audition.” Tom smiled warmly into the camera as he walked around his apartment in London.
“Yeah, easy for you to say, movie-star.” You giggled, turning your face away from the camera in hopes that Tom wouldn’t notice the blush his compliments painted onto your cheeks
“I’m serious! You were outstanding! Like in that one scene where you—”
“Tom! Tessa chewed a hole in my trousers again!” A voice came from outside of the frame, “Mate, you gotta get her to stop doing that somehow.”
Tom sighed, and waved his hand dismissively at the figure, “Okay, sure. I’m busy right now.” Tom looked back to the camera, “anyways, as I was saying, don’t stress about not having a new project yet, (Y/N)—”
“(Y/N)?” The other voice whisper-yelled. “Let me say hi!”, suddenly the phone was yanked out of Tom's hands and the video shook around a bit as Tom wrestled to get it back. Finally, the camera stilled and Harrison was on the other end smiling. “Hi, (Y/N)!”
“Oh, hi Harrison!” You smiled back, laughing. You'd met Harrison a few times when he visited Tom on set. “How are you?”
The camera started moving around more as the background behind Harrsion whizzed past. You assumed Tom must’ve been chasing him to get the phone back.
“I’m good! I just auditioned for a new movie. You should audition too! The main female lead’s description looks just like you.” He exclaimed, running past the kitchen to his room.
“Oi! Give me my phone back you div!” You heard Tom yelling in the background, no doubt in hot pursuit of Harrison.
“I don’t know, I'm not sure I’m prepared for a lead role.” You sighed, “What’s the movie called? I’ll look into it.”
“It’s called ‘Collateral Damage’, it’s a spy movie.” Harrison said, shutting the door to his room, while Tom pounded on it from the other side. “Yeah, it’d be really fun working with you. Tom constantly talks about how much fun you are on set.” Harrison wheezed out, trying to catch his breath.
“Aw, that’s sweet of him.” You laughed. “Well I’ve got to go. Just tell Tom he can call me tomorrow or something.” You waved at the camera. “Bye!”
“Yup, bye.” Harrison said right before the video cut out.
Harrison finally opened the door to a seething Tom. Tom grabbed the phone back from Harrison and noticed that the call had ended.
“Dude! Why would you do that?” Tom whined.
Harrison just patted Tom’s back, “Sorry, mate. She said she had to go, though. I was about to give the phone back.”
Tom huffed and sulked for a moment. “Whatever, I’ll just call her later, I guess.”
Harrison nodded and smirked at how whipped Tom was. “You should just ask her out if you’re so desperate for her attention.” Harrison teased.
“Shut up. I’m not desperate for her attention, I just like her voice and her personality, and the way she talks, and her funny sayings, and how her hair looks when she just woke up.”
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It was only a few days later when you received an email from the director of the movie Harrison told you about, asking for you to audition. You were ecstatic, Harrison must’ve already sent in some things about you since the director seemed adamant that you were of high interest for the role.
You called Tom immediately to share the good news.
He picked up after the third ring, “Hello, darling! How are you?” he beamed when he answered your call. He usually was the one to call you so he felt a sense of pride knowing that you were calling him for once.
“Tom! The director of the movie Harrison auditioned for just emailed me asking for me to audition!” You squealed excitedly.
“Really? That’s wonderful, love! Harrison just got the part of the lead too, so you’d be filming with him if you got it.”
“That’s so exciting, I’m flying to London for the audition in two days. Are you still there?” You pulled the phone away from your ear and switched it to speaker. “I’m booking the flight right now.”
“Yeah, I’ll be in London for another week and a half. Then we have the press tour starting in Japan.” Tom said, also switching to speaker phone to look at his calendar. “You can stay with Harrison and I while you’re here. Since we have to go to Japan together anyways.” Tom offered nervously. He really wanted you to stay in his flat with him. It’d be all cute and domestic, and maybe, just maybe, he’d spend enough time with you to not feel nervous about asking you on a date. If he was lucky, that is, but awaiting your reply he was a jittery ball of nerves.
“Yeah, that sounds wonderful. I won't be intruding though, right?” You said, smiling from ear to ear. Thank god you weren’t on facetime and Tom couldn’t see the stupid smile adoring your features.
“No, of course not. Harry will be so excited to see you. And Tessa too, she really misses you.” Tom shuffled around with his phone, shooting a quick text to Harrison letting him know you were coming to stay for a week.
“Ok, thanks so much, this is really thoughtful of you. I absolutely can’t wait to see you!” You gushed, finalizing your purchase of a one-way ticket to London. “K, the flight is at 2:30 pm here, it’s about 9 and a half hours, but you’re also ahead of me, so I’ll be in around..5?”
“Yeah, that sounds right to me,” Tom chuckled, “I’ll come pick you up. I’ll wear my incognito disguise.”
“If you mean that stupid t-shirt you got that says ‘I’M NOT A CELEBRITY’, then maybe I’ll ask Harrison to come pick me up…”
“That’s cold (Y/L/N).”
You giggled softly, “I’m sorry, Tommy. If it makes you feel better, that shirt isn’t as bad as that stupid blue beanie that you never wear correctly.”
“How the fuck would that make me feel better? You’re killing me, (Y/N/N).”
You laughed at his over dramatic reaction, “Sorry that you’re a sensitive babe. I gotta go now, see you soon!” You hung up before Tom could respond with a sassy quip. Then immediately after you received a text:
Tommy: The second you get here I’m bout to 👊
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Tom called Harrison up after you got off the phone, he needed to make sure his best friend wouldn’t say or do anything to embarrass him in front of you.
“Tom, don’t you think this is a bit obsessive? I mean, she’s only staying with us for a week and you already know her so well from spending all that time filming with her.” Harrison sighed, sick of listening to Tom ramble about every possible embarrassing situation he could be put in, in the coming week.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It's no big deal. But don’t mention that time I accidentally shit my pants at the club, or that time I got hit in the head with a golf ball ‘cus I got distracted by a flock of geese, or that time a got chased by a flock of geese, or—”
“Geez, mate. At this point we might as well not even talk to her.” Harrison chuckled, thinking of all the stories he could bring up about Tom around the dinner table with you. Tom really was just a walking ball of embarrassing moments.
“Stoppp ittt,” Tom whined, “when we were on set it was usually just the cast and Harry around, but you? You could do some real fucking damage to my love life, Haz.”
“What love life?” Harrison barked out, laughing.
Tom then hung up and began praying to whatever god was out there that this week could go by without a hitch, and then you and him would be on your way, together, to Japan.
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The whole week spent in London actually went really well, especially the audition. Tom and Harrison both accompanied you for moral support, well Harrison actually had to be there to be your scene partner, but it was still nice knowing he supported you.
The director shook your hand and you went through the normal formalities before beginning your scene with Harrison. It was a quick scene with a monologue in it. The main premise of the movie was all about choosing love over work, especially in dangerous, life-threatening scenarios. The scene you used to audition with Harrison was the scene where the main character, Lincoln, and his lover interest, Mallory, were arguing, trying to push each other away to keep each other safe. The scene had a lot of raw emotion that you were able to tap into, and the directors gave your performance a standing ovation once the scene concluded.
They said that they’d get back to you within the next few days, but they also mentioned how the chemistry between you and Harrison was off the charts, leaving you hopeful. Tom and Harrison both gave you hugs and pats on the back. Tom had watched the whole scene unfold and he was in complete and utter awe of your talent. Part of him was annoyed that he didn’t audition for the movie and a chance as your love interest. But Harrison deserved this big break and so did you, so he was hopeful of the outcome being something that benefitted both of his best friends.
After the audition the rest of the week went by nearly perfectly. The real kicker was when Tom’s family invited you and Harrison to join them for dinner. Tom had not anticipated his mom asking you to come to family dinner, so he wasn’t able to stop the embarrassing anecdotes his mom told on his behalf.
“Tom had the cutest little tush,” Nikki exclaimed, placing the old homemade scrapbook in your lap and flipping through a couple of pages. “See look,” she happily pointed to a picture of Tom as a toddler in a bath, surrounded by bubbles, his little bum poking through them.
Tom sat uncomfortably on the sofa next to you, cringing at the now 21 year old photo of him. He expected you to also cringe along, or worse case scenario, get up and make a flimsy excuse to leave his crazy family, but you just chuckled along with Nikki and continued making your way through the scrapbook, making little comments here and there.
“Oh, and this one,” Nikki said, pointing to a photo of Tom crying and Sam holding up a superhero action figure triumphantly, “that was Tom’s favorite toy, but when Sam saw how much Tom liked it, he made an effort to always be playing with it when Tom came into the room and he wouldn’t share.”
You giggled at the little whiny face Tom made in the picture, and turned to him, replicating it on your face, making fun of him. Tom laughed along and playfully shoved you. He adored how well you seemed to fit in with his family and his feelings for you only multiplied.
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The week in London was one of the best in your life. You didn’t realize how much you missed Tom until you got to the airport and he was there waiting for you, unfortunately in his stupid blue beanie, and no, it wasn’t on right, his big ears poked out of it horrendously.
The last day you had in London before you and Tom went to Japan, you finally received a call about the audition. The director called you to congratulate you on getting the part, and he sent you numerous emails about scheduling, where to be, and when. Harrison was elated to have a familiar face playing his love interest on screen, and Tom was over the moon excited for you, this on top of the Spider-man movie coming out, you were certainly becoming a force to be reckoned with.
You spent the night celebrating at a club, Harry and Sam also showed up to party with you. The night was still young and the club was already packed and in full swing. Tom ordered two shots for each of you to start off the night before he was whisked away by a few fans to sign autographs. When he didn’t return you took it upon yourself to have his shots, giving you an extra edge to help spice up your night.
Harrison found Tom in the corner of the club talking to some fans. But throughout his whole time taking pictures with them, he couldn’t help but glance at you every once and a while. You looked so carefree and beautiful, dancing around in your shiny silver top and leather leggings.
“Tom.” Harrison interrupted Tom’s gawking and directed his attention to the small group of fans Tom was with.
Tom nodded and finished up his pictures and autographs before wishing them all a good and safe night. Once he reached you, you engulfed him in a bone crushing hug.
“Thank you for such a great time in London, Tommy.” you slurred, already feeling the impact of the four shots you took. “I had the best time of my whole life.” You pecked his cheek and pulled him close to dance with you.
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The following month or so on the press tour was a once in a lifetime experience. You travelled to more cities than you even knew the name of and you had all of your friends by your side. More so, you had motivation to remain approachable and well liked by fans considering that you were moving up in the industry. Some interviews were mostly for Tom, Zendaya, and Jacob. Your role in the movie was big enough for you to be needed for some interviews, and most people were genuinely interested in getting to know you, but there were also a handful of press activities that you weren’t included in, which you didn’t mind.
When you didn’t have anything to do for an hour or so, you would text Harrison and send him funny memes. He was quickly becoming one of your closest friends; you had already created a surplus of inside jokes with him just over the phone.
Tom noticed how you were always laughing at your phone or rapid fire texting. Even when you were being interviewed, Tom could faintly hear the buzz of your text message notifications going off.
“Tom,” you snapped in front of his eyes, “did you need something?”
“Huh?” Tom blinked a few times, “Uh—no, sorry.” Tom’s cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed for having been caught staring at you. He couldn’t help it though, you were dressed so pretty that day. You had your hair done up in two bubble braids and you wore his pink sweatshirt over your yellow sundress.
“Okay then.” You smiled at him. You went back to your phone, reading what Harrison had just texted you. “What was the name of that comedian we watched the other night?”
“The one on Netflix?”
You hummed out a yes, tapping away at your phone.
“Burt Kreisher, why?” Tom asked, leaning over to your chair to try and catch a glimpse of who you were texting. When he saw the contact name “Hazzy”, he couldn't stop the little angry pit of jealousy that started in his stomach. Sure, you were here with him now, not with Harrison, but when you two were apart you also texted him nonstop, and the texts seemed to all be inside jokes, which was something you also shared with him that he held near and dear.
“I made a joke referencing him to Harrison and he didn’t get it. Fucking nerd.” You chuckled, texting Harrison a link to the skit you were referring to.
Tom chuckled along, but he couldn’t help but frown slightly at how bright your smile was when Harrison replied.
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The press tour and premiere of the movie seemed to go by lighting fast. You’d never been to a premiere for a production this big, and your nerves for the red carpet were starting to get to you.
You and Zendaya were stuffed into a hotel room with both of your respective teams, both trying to rapidly get both of you ready for the event.
“So when do you start filming for your next project?” Zendaya asked, she sat in front of a broadway-equse mirror, bright bulbs of light giving a luminescent glow to her already near flawless complexion. She hadn’t even finished her makeup yet and she was so pretty.
“In a month, I have to go back to London next week.” You said, sifting through the opinions you brought for dresses. You brought three options, just in case you changed your mind after seeing yourself in the dress. “Harrison and I are going to go over the scripts together and we were also told to go out in public a few times; for press and whatnot.”
“That’s exciting!” Zendaya mused, she glanced at the clock and gave her hairdresser some instructions about how much time she had to do hair. “It’s a good thing you guys are already friends. I remember when I filmed ‘The Greatest Showman’ I didn’t know many of the actors personally, so we had to go out together and do press all while being almost strangers. It was a bit nerve wracking.” Zendaya smiled at you fondly, she was like an older sister to you during this whole movie-making process, she constantly had your back.
“Yeah, I mean I’ll probably be in a situation like that at some point, but for my first lead role it’s nice to be working opposite a friend.” You smiled back, finally deciding on the red, sequined dress.
You both sat and worked through the makeup process in comfortable silence.
“So you and Tom…” Zendaya broke the silence and looked at you with a smirk on her face.
“What?” You looked at her with a dumbfounded look, before nervously laughing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb, (Y/N/N).” She poked your arm and laughed, “He’s literally obsessed with you.”
You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. A movie star, and very famous movie star at that, obsessed with you? You? Impossible.
“Yeah no, sorry but you got the wrong girl, babe.” You sighed, pulling out your phone to snap and selfie with her for your instagram story. You quickly snapped a pic of the two of you, her kissing your cheek, leaving a small, faint lipstick mark. “I mean it’d be nice,” you back tracked, “but I’m sure that’s just my wishful thinking.”
“What wishful thinking? I thought you were a pessimist?” Zendaya chuckled, taking her own photo with you to post later.
“I am, but I can’t help but indulge a bit.”
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Before you knew it, you were back in London, staying in a rented out flat for the next three to four months. Harrison was kind enough to come over to help you set up a work space, but he also offered you to spend most of your time at his place. Since Tom was in New York, doing interviews about the new Spider-man movie and having meetings with the Marvel Cinematic Universe team to try and gauge his future in the MCU, he wouldn’t be around for almost a month, so Harrison offered up Tom’s office when you needed to go over a scene by yourself and wanted a place that was already set up.
The days of filming seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Most of your scenes were with Harrison, and he was the perfect scene partner. He rarely messed up, but if he did then he was quick to use it as an opportunity to improvise. His skills weren’t as well honed in like Tom’s, but it was obvious that their style ranged from a similar source.
The main thing about this movie that you were excited, but extremely nervous for, were the two sex scenes. The first one is at the beginning, where the two leads give in to each other for a night, then there's some implied stuff in between, and the last one is when the two leads part ways for the final time at the end of the movie. The first one had to be rough, fast, and needy, whereas the second one was direct to be more slow, thought out, and sensual.
Both were extremely stress-inducing to film. Harrison had also never done any scenes like this before, so he was on the same boat as you. Thankfully you had an amazing director and stunt coordinator to work with and with the help of other crew members, the scenes were mapped out so that it wasn’t too much improv or guessing on your part.
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The first intimate scene you shot actually happened to be the one at the end of the movie. That scene was more tame and dealt with more emotional subtexts than physical. Since you filmed that one first, you went into filming the next one with more confidence. It only took a few days to get the first scene down to perfection, so with this newfound confidence, it shouldn’t take too long to get the next one done.
On the days you shot intimate scenes, you only needed to wear the costume you wore before the scene and then you changed into a robe with nude underwear underneath. The bits with the outfit on before were already shot, so the director called a 30 minute break until you could begin shooting the actual sex part.
You were standing by the snack table, eyes scanning the table for any more muffins leftover from breakfast. The robe you wore made your skin prickle whenever a draft came onto set.
Just as you had found the muffin you were looking for, a pair of warm hands covered your eyes.
“Guess who!” An all too familiar warm, British accentuated, voice called.
You turned around in his arms, effectively nudging his hands from your face, and soon you were met with the warmest hazel eyes. Eyes that you missed so much this past month.
“Tommy!” You squealed and thrusted yourself into him in a hug. He immediately reciprocated it and wrapped your body in warmth. “What’re you doing here?” You asked once you let go of him.
“Harrison gave me the location so I could come watch you film. I just got home, like, two days ago.” Tom eyed you up and down, not realizing what little you had on. “Um—are you wearing anything under that?” He pointed up and down your figure.
“Nope, today and tomorrow we’re scheduled to film the sex scene.” You said casually, doing a silly twirl. Tom gulped.
“A s-sex scene?” He choked, “I didn’t know you guys had one.”
“Yup,” you smirked, “two actually, this is my first one ever, Haz’s too, I think. Well actually, we filmed the sex scene at the end of the movie last week.”
“Yeah… t-that’s cool.” Tom smiled weakly.
Right as you were about to continue your conversation with Tom, an arm swung over your shoulder and pulled you close. Harrison smiled at the both of you. He wore a similar robe to yours, except he left the front open. His plaid boxers on full display.
“Don’t listen to her, Tom. She’s a natural.” Harrison pinched your cheeks. Tom clenched his jaw at the comment. He knew Harrison hadn't meant to imply anything with it, but he couldn't help but hear the hidden meaning behind the otherwise innocent compliment.
You giggled and pushed his hand away, “Only ‘cus my scene partner is so darn cute.” You retaliated, poking and tickling his pecs.
This kind of goofy banter was normal between you and Harrison, but Tom hadn’t seen either of you in so long. He also had never seen you two interact so fluently with each other. He watched the interaction with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along and shrugging every once in a while to seem like he was paying attention. In reality though, he couldn’t pry his thoughts away from how close you were to Harrison.
“Ok everyone! Places! Let’s wrap this scene up and put it to rest today!” Your director called. You and Harrison smiled and waved goodbye to Tom. Harrison pointed to a chair in the room that had a nice view of the set where Tom could watch. Tom nodded and walked over to the chair, enthusiasm for watching you work completely dissipating.
The scene started off rough right off the bat. The second the director said ‘Action!’ you and Harrison were practically pouncing on each other. Harrison had you pressed up against the wall and you were both breathing heavily. He was leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collar bones. Your moans, which Tom always imagined to sound like music to his ears, sounded too real for his liking. But no matter how much he tried to look away, his eyes were glued to the two bodies moving fluidly with one another.
“Cut! Cut!” The director yelled, effectively ending the scene. You and Harrison pulled apart and he gave you a peck on the cheek, as in saying ‘good job’. “That was good, but Harrison,” The blonde nodded, awaiting further instruction. “You gotta be a little rougher, hm?”
Harrison nodded along with the critique. “(Y/N)?” the director moved his attention to you, “would it be okay if Harrison marked you up? Just a few hickeys to really sell the illusion. We can do without, though, if you feel uncomfortable.”
Tom overheard the interaction and internally hoped that you were too uncomfortable for that, but deep down he knew you would do it. You were never the type to stray away from a challenge.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded, chest still heaving from the scene. You looked at Harrison. “Is that okay with you?”
Harrison nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. Yeah, you guys have been working at this scene for days now, but he’d never been rough enough to leave marks. He’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t invigorate him.
So the scene started from the top, you pressed up against the wall, all your weight shoved between the flimsy wall of the set and Harrison’s strong arms. Harrison did exactly as the director required, leaving noticeable dark spots across the top of your chest. Unlike your previous moans, which had just been for show, this new roughness in his actions tore real moans from your lips.
Tom sat uncomfortably in his chair, wishing he picked a different day to visit you on set. He shifted around, watching twin moans pull from both you and Harrison’s throat. He watched as you nipped at Harrison's ear as he faux thrusted into you. The jealousy that had pitted itself in his stomach soon turned to self-loathing. You looked really into the scene, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. He knew you were a great actress, but he couldn’t believe that this was all acting. In his eyes, he believed that some part of you must wish that this was real. And part of you did like this scenario, but you wouldn’t have picked Harrison to be opposite you in this little fantasy.
Your moans and Harrisons both grew louder, leading up to the climax as scripted. Tom, not wanting to watch anymore exited the set quickly before he could watch the scene end.
You and Harrison finished up, gaining applause and praise afterwards from the director and crew members on set.
“Where’s Tom?” You asked, scrambling back into your robe and smoothing out your now roughed up hair.
Harrison, now noticing the absence of his best friend, began to feel a bit guilty. He knew Tom had a thing for you, maybe he should’ve told Tom not to visit set today.
“Um, (Y/N)?” He mumbled, pulling you aside slightly.
“Yeah?” You still looked around for Tom a bit, heart sinking when you realized that he must've left without saying goodbye.
“I shouldn’t be the one telling you this,” Harrison began, drawing your full attention, “but Tom really likes you. He always downplayed it, so I didn’t realize how much, but I think watching this scene might’ve upset him a bit.” Harrison looked towards the exit, no doubtedly where Tom left through, out into the parking lot.
“Oh—oh!” You gasped, feeling terribly for having put Tom in such an awkward position. “I didn’t know he felt the same.” You whispered, smiling softly to yourself. Guess Z was right after all. You pulled away from Harrison, “I’ll go talk to him.”
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Tom didn’t go far. He still wanted to be there to support you; he didn’t want to come off as a jealous prick, but he couldn’t keep watching that intimacy between you and his best friend. He sat on the curb outside of the building the set was built in. A few people passed him going to their designated buildings on the lot, but he didn’t pay any mind to them, too lost in his thoughts. He needed to tell you sooner rather than later how he felt. No time to be a pussy anymore.
“Tom?” You walked up next to his sitting figure, still only in a robe, tightly wrapped around you. He looked up to acknowledge you, mumbling a soft ‘Hey.’ before looking back down, trying to collect his thoughts and courage. It’s now or never.
You sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder. “Harrison told me something interesting in there,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “about you.”
Tom’s head shot up, and he looked at you with frantic eyes, only imagining the worse. There were too many things Harrison could’ve told you about Tom to sully your image of him.
“Whatever it was, he's a lying prick!” Tom rushed out.
You giggled, lifting your head up to look him in the eyes, his dark hazel eyes boring into yours.
“That’s a shame then,” You shrugged, “considering I like you too.”
Tom breathed out a sigh of relief, before looking back at you, doing a double take.
“Wait, what?”
“Mhm, yeah.” You said casually, standing up. “But since Harrison’s a liar then I suppose he was wrong.” You teased.
“No!” Tom grabbed your wrist and pulled you back next to him, but his aim was a bit off and you ended up in his lap. “He lies about a lot, but not about this.”
You smiled at him, “I should hope not, considering I’m crazy about you.”
Tom couldn’t help the smile that beamed across his face, but then he noticed the marks left on you by Harrison. Remembering why he was insecure in the first place, he looked away.
“What about Harrison?” He asked. You looked at him utterly confused. Tom caught on and explained further. “You looked like you were really into that scene with him.”
You giggled and pinched Tom’s cheek, turning it red. “I’m an actress, you idiot.”
Tom scoffed, “I know that. It’s just— I didn’t realize you could fake that kind of love.”
You looked at Tom’s downcast face. You leaned in and kissed his neck, just under his jaw. You nipped and sucked softly, leaving a nice, dark pink blotch that would go away in a few days under his jaw and he whimpered softly.
“I’d never fake that kind of love with you.” You grabbed his face, holding it gently in your hands. “I’d never have to.” You whispered, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet.
Tom pulled you closer, resting a hand on the small of your back, kissing back fervently.
The short make-out session being cut short by the door to the set bursting opened. Harrison rushing out, now dressed in slacks and a white button up for the next scene you needed to shoot that day.
“(Y/N)! Hair and makeup need you.” You lugged yourself off of Tom’s lap, promising to talk to him after you finished for the day. You went back inside, jokingly blowing a kiss to Harrison on your way.
Harrison stayed outside and sat next to Tom.
“Did she confess first?” He asked after a moment of silence.
“Yup.” Tom smiled happily, licking his lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick he saw you put on earlier.
“You owe me 10 pounds then, you wimp.”
“Oh, fuck off.” Tom groaned, promptly pulling ten pounds out of his wallet and handing it to Haz.
#tom holland x reader#tom holland x actress!reader#tom holland angst#tom holland fluff#tom holland x y/n#tom holland oneshot#tom holland fanfic#tom holland smut#harrison osterfeild fluff#harrison osterfield#platonic!harrison osterfield
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