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mariasont · 9 months ago

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Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H

a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it

warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you

wc: 0.9k

You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.

You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare.

"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"

You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.

You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.

So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.

Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.

Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.

"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."

You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."

The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color.

You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.

The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.

"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."

He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek.

"You—, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."

"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."

"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.

"I made you cry."

When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.

"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."

This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration.

Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.

"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.

"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.

You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult.

He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.

Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.

He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.

"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.

"I know."

"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."

You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."

As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.

That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #Spotify

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kentoxo · 4 months ago

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friction | you x crush!nanami pt. 1

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: first!! ever!! story-driven smut!!! im so excited! literally love this man sm and have yet to make any sort of fic on him. ahhh!! let me know if yall like this idea! i'll be releasing mini parts sporadically as my free time allows me to :)

December | Tokyo, Japan

Nanami relied on you, simply because you made it a point to become ever so reliable to him.

Monday through Friday, you would always arrive just a few minutes before him, feigning an earlier arrival with your coat stowed away, and your computer on with work tabs open on the monitor. This morning, like every morning, went exactly within your expectations. You’d know he arrived by the sea of ‘goodmorning, Mr. Nanami’ flooding the office. The firm steps of his Italian oxfords would always remind you to straighten your back and await him with his cup of coffee in hand.

“Goodmorning, Nanami,” you hum, your words sliding off your tongue like butter. You don’t look at him, as you were busy basking in the privilege of long-dropped formalities. Although Nanami was very strict with work and coworker relationships, he only accepted you speaking to him informally. At least, in regards to his honorifics.

“‘Mornin’,” Nanami huffs. He takes a seat beside you, stripping away his black peacoat. It was a heavy winter in Japan, so in the ocean of snow and winds were city workers and dwellers, draped in coats or inappropriate attire. You knew it was rude to stare, but you were always entranced from seeing his body in his usual beige suit. A veiny hand presents itself before you.

You carefully fill his hand with his hot-brewed coffee, “just the way you like it. Your favorite barista was in today, finally. He was out with a cold, and took a few days off sick.”

Nanami’s free hand frantically moves his mouse, impatiently waiting for his computer to illuminate on. “It’s unfortunate his counterparts cannot mimic his talent. We may have to poach him into our corporate cafe.”

You begin to draft an email, the lingering warmth from his coffee resting in your hands. “I can draft an email for you if you’d like. You have a meeting with Mr. Takada at 2, so it could be opportune to mention it.”

His eyes casually flicker over to the calendar pinned on the dividing cubicle wall, between both of your computers. It was organized in neat font thanks to you and your handwriting. Hazel eyes begin to scan the calendar, with Nanami lightly cupping his mouth. “And were you able to postpone the team meeting for today?”

You nod, never missing a beat, “I’ve long sent the email, and made my rounds earlier today to remind them that we will not be gathering today. I’ve set up an alternative forum that works for everyone's schedule, including ours.” You reach over for a folder you had neatly sitting in your ‘complete’ basket. “I’ve already printed copies for the documents we’ll be going over, and booked conference room 3.”

“My favorite,” Nanami breathed out between swigs of his bitter coffee. “Did you double check everything?”

“All documents were revised 3 times for mathematical errors, grammar, and consumability. I’ve also prepared catering to be brought tomorrow, as the meeting would take place at the beginning of everybody's shift.”

The blonde man stripped off his blazer, revealing his alluring, navy blue shirt. He neatly drapes it over the back of his seat and leans back once again. He crosses his arms over his chest, the bulge of his bicep evident under the fabric of his dress shirt. “Any new updates from Mr. Takada or the team?” You could hear the office quiet down, the sudden silence of keyboard tapping and casual conversation.

“Mr. Takada has yet to send anything, so that is still pending. The team, however, has made quite the advance in their work. They’ve already predicted our numbers for the end of the year, with our solidified, confirmed numbers already calculated and organized in a shared Excel.”

Nanami smirks mischievously, “I don’t believe it. How’d you manage to get that out of these loafers?” A few of the staff playfully complain, receiving a small chuckle from Nanami. You felt your cheeks warm up from his hidden dimple coming to the spotlight of his lips.

They all go back to their work after exchanging light words and laughter. You lean over slightly towards Nanami, not giving him any sort of eye contact. “I let them choose the breakfast we will be catering for the meeting,” you whispered playfully.

He leans as well, “you truly are a woman of trade, Y/N.” He quickly opens up a few documents on the screen while finishing the final drop of his coffee. His bottom lip glistened with coffee, having him casually drag his tongue to wipe it off. “How about our lunch for today? You and I, that is,” he made sure to clarify.

You opened your drawer and fished out a menu. It was a menu from a seafood restaurant that opened close to the office. You slid it to him, opening it up to reveal his annotations when he initially looked through it. “I scheduled an order for both of the dishes that you had circled. Both options look delicious, so I figured we could sample from one another's plate.”

Nanami turns to you, his lips hinting at a smile. He lightly tugs the bottom of his lip with his teeth, sending shots directly at your heart. “What are we drinking?”

“I couldn’t find your favorite iced tea, but they have this pomegranate drink that I think you’d enjoy greatly,” you hum confidently, “it has yuzu in it.”

Nanami’s lips finally curve into that saccharine sweet smile. “Why do I even clock in anymore?” Nanami jokes, “I can be on autopilot so long as I have you Y/N. Thank you for being so diligent.” He begins to rise from his chair, causing a few of your fellow coworkers to look over. “I’m off to the kitchen to grab some snacks. Would you like anything from the cafe?”

You nod, “tell any of the baristas my name, they’ll know. They also have those apple pies you like today, so definitely grab one while they’re still available.”

With an excited hum, Nanami walks away from you, your eyes glued to how good that blue skirt hugged his torso. Broad shoulders, sharper blades, and muscular. His scent wafted you when he left his seat, the notes of sandalwood and frankincense taking you over. But your thirsting thoughts simply had to be bursted by Yū Haibara. He temporarily took a seat in Nanami’s seat, and turned your chair over to face him.

“Keep staring and maybe you might actually start drooling,” Haibara humors. Before you, Haibara was Nanami’s only right hand man. He is not as diligent as you are, but he keeps up with Nanami the way others can’t. “I thought you wanted to keep your crush a secret?”

Before you could respond, your hand immediately cups around Haibara’s mouth. “I’ll punch the drool out of your mouth so we can twin– can you please not say that out loud, in the office?” You grit your teeth after your words, letting your hand fall to reveal a cheeky smile from the obsidian-haired man.

“That is the most aggressive thing you’ve ever whispered to me,” Haibara whispered back, finally using his head voice. He was lucky his voice wasn’t too loud or else you would’ve mauled him. “That’s no way to speak to your manager.”

“If you were my manager, nothing would get done,” you teased, looking back at your computer to analyze some of the numbers Nanami sent you. “Did you need something, or are you just here to mess with me?”

“Both!” Haibara hums. “I’m not messin with ya, rather I just want to keep my eye out for you. I’ve already told you about how Kento feels about dating. I would hate to see you–”

“I know, I know,” you quickly shut down, waving your hand in his face. “I’m not trying to act delusional or anything. I already like him, so there’s nothing I can do.” Haibara stays quiet, not wanting to bother you.

Haibara knows when to draw the line when he teases you. He reveals a paper from who knows where and offers it to you. It was a thank you letter from the Sales Department. “I visited them as soon as I came in today. They thanked you for helping them with a small project and asked to transfer you back.”

You picked up the letter, your cheeks going warm again. You pucker out your bottom lip and hold the letter to your chest. “I miss my team so much! Ah, it felt so good to work with them again!” Your eyes then flicker at Nanami’s small name tag beside your desk.

It wasn’t that Nanami was this amazing man, but he was wonderful. When you were transferred from the Sales Department to the Finance Department, you weren’t sure you were going to do well. Especially considering you were transferred specifically to be Nanami’s assistant. But on your first day, you noticed that Nanami joined you in the empty desk beside your own. His office was not big enough to host you and your needs, so he has refused to use his office since then. He told you it was necessary to work with one another, and that sacrifices on his end must be seen in order for work to get done.

Since then, you have never let him down.

“But I’d never leave this,” you say, the sentiment in your words striking Haibara. “Their words are kind, but Nanami’s words are heavy. I feel… appreciated by him.”

Haibara scoffs enviously, crossing his arms over his chest, “wish that was me. Nanami never made me feel appreciated. He didn’t even congratulate me when I was promoted to Head Manager!”

“And I still won’t,” a deep voice sounded from behind you. Turning around, a smile tickled your lips as Nanami came back. One hand occupied your drink, while the other held a steaming hot apple pie. He delicately places your drink on the corner of your desk before going to Haibara, lightly spinning the chair with a push from his knee. “Off.”

“Am I nothing to you?” Haibara moans theatrically. “You’re commanding me like a dog on your couch.”

Nanami assumes his seat after ripping Haibara off of it, “I’d still let a dog sit on my couch. Anyways, what did you need Ms. Y/L/N for?”

Haibara quickly rushes to your side while playfully sticking his tongue out towards Nanami. “I was passing her a letter from the Sales team. They want to steal her back from us.”

You quickly elbow his stomach from him not saying the whole truth.

But it was too late. “Is that right?” Nanami murmurs. He moves his mouse to wake up the computer, immediately getting back to his workflow. “They can try, but it’ll never happen,” Nanami said simply, “I’d never approve it.”

It was… a compliment? Well, that’s how it felt like to you. It felt like Nanami wanted you all to himself, but only in a work capacity. Despite this being platonic and strictly work related, it still sent waves of emotion to your heart.

Haibara chuckles, “who knows? Maybe Y/N will go on her own accord.” You look back at Haibara, practically seething at his unthinkable words. Haibara quickly puts his arms over his stomach, protecting himself from another potential blow.

Nanami quickly removes his hands from his keyboard and looks over at Haibara. His face was distasteful. “Move away from my assistant before you rub your stupid on her. While you’re at it…” Nanami reaches over to his rack of documents and pulls out a very thick folder with a label that reads ‘To Do.’ He eagerly holds it out to Haibara, who reluctantly takes it from him. “These are all the clients we need to look through. Pick out at least 20 that you think would be an asset to the company if we worked with them.”

Haibara, without another word, drags his feet back to his office. You try to hide your smile as you excitedly pick up your iced drink. Taking a sip, you let out a satisfied sigh. “Thank you for getting me this, Nanami. I hope there wasn’t a line or anything.”

“None at all,” Nanami hums. “I didn’t realize that you liked your drinks so sweet, Y/N. I could swear you usually get a different drink.”

Your shoulders hang a bit from his words, but you were still quite upbeat, “it’s been the same since I was transferred to your department.” You made sure not to imbue your words with disappointment as you would hate to make him feel guilty. “It’ll be a year soon since I’ve joined the Finance Department.” You pointed to the day on the calendar, which was marked clearly with an X.

Nanami looks over at you with a warm smile, “you have been a wonderful addition to the team. I’m glad that Mr. Takada knew what I needed, and recommended you.”

Unable to contain your happiness from his flattery, you quickly glue yourself to your monitor. You tap away at your keyboard like a maniac, attempting to calm the quick beating of your heart. Your drink, in a way, was tasting a little sweeter than usual after his words.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #nanami kento #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami #jjk kento #kento nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #jjk fic

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gia-d · 5 months ago

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Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

#linked universe #bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #this is an adjuration #my binds #ivyring bookbinding #hi freyja!

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inky-duchess · 2 days ago

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Fantasy Guide to the Fashion of 1940s

The 1940s was a time for great change in the world and in fashion. Marked by rationing and shortage of fabrics, the silhouette and availability of different cuts was limited so the women of the era turned to more fitted, shorter cuts.

Undergarments

The undergarments of the era were not as restrictive or complicated in WW2 as they were pre-WW1, but there were a lot of moving parts to the set-up.

Bra/Brassiere: Bras got shorter in the 1940s due to the rationing of fabric. They look much like they do today, made of light coloured fabrics and hooked with metal eyelets.

Panties/Knickers: The underwear. Elasticated underwear was around and actually exempt from rationing.

Girdle: The girdle rests on the lower torso, past the hips and were used for shaping as well as support.

Garters: Were worn at the top of the stocking just above the knee to hold the stocking in place.

Garter Belt: Was a belt worn around the waist and used to hold up the stockings and garters thanks to fastenings.

Slip: A slip is a light loose dress that is worn under another dress. It is long or short depending on the size of the dress you're wearing over it. The slip has slim straps and was usually plain though lace and embroidery were no uncommon. Most younger women favoured the half slip which was like another skirt.

Stockings: Stockings were worn over the lower legs, clipped and held in place by the garters. If your lady is lucky enough to have a friend on the black market, she might be lucky enough to have proper nylon tights. But if not, some ladies in this period dyed their legs with tea bags and drew the seam up the back of their legs to give the effect.

Outfits

Most women still wore skirts and dresses in the 1940s though some women switched to pants. Most of the outfits of the time followed a similar silhouette due to rationing: it was simple, unsophosticated, fitted, belted and hems remained just below the knee. A suit jacket and skirt combo was popular. Blouses and jumpers were also worn. Dresses were worn as well. Women would pair their outfit with accessories. They would always wear a hat outside and gloves.

Shoes

Shoes were effected by the war, with leather and rubber being limited. Most were brown, black or two two-tone shoes were popular. Oxford shoes, saddle shoes, loafers, court shoes, slingback were popular. These could be lace ups or have fastenings. Heels were usual, but rather short and stocky if worn in the day time. Most would be plain but some would have embellishments.

The Reality of the 1940s

With war on and rationing well underway, the question of clothes was always on the mind. Most women did not have a large wardrobe and with clothing coupons little help, most women made and made due. Hems would be let down, larger sizes cut down and a lot of clothing reused. Fabric choice was limited, silk and nylon were used for parachutes and military applications. Clothing rations were the only way to get new clothes in the war. The average person was entitled at first to 66 clothing coupons per year. But that only would buy an outfit of clothes not including the necessaries. And the number of ration coupons went down as the war went on, down to 36 coupons in 1945. It was illegal to transfer coupons but even despite this, in 1947 hundreds of women offered the future Queen Elizabeth II their rations for her wedding dress. The offer was declined but the government had to approve the release of extra coupons to the Princess. Women also turned to alternatives to create clothes especially wedding gowns even made them out of parachutes!

Make up and Hair

Make up and perfume was one of the many things that was rationed due to their chemical components such as glycerine. Women could access make up but due to rationing and many make up companies not having the ingredients or changing to more profitable and patriotic output, supplies were low. Women often turned to DIY, burnt cork for mascara and eyeliner, natural stains such as beetroot or cochineal for lipstick, crushed rose petals for blush, soot/charcoal for eyeliner, facemasks of egg white or oatmeal, beeswax for moisturiser and cold cream. As for hair women often turned to DIY to care and wash for their hair. Homemade shampoos were made from soap, vinegar and baking soda. Egg yolks were used for conditioner. Lemon juice was used to lighten hair. Olive oil was used to make hair shiny. Some popular hairstyles of the era:

Victory Rolls: This is the hairstyle you're probably thinking ofwhen you think of the 40s. It involves rolling the hair away from the face and rolling them at the top of the head.

Pin Curls: This is a hairstyle involving the curling and pinning of hair overnight got tight curls for the next day.

Pageboy: This is a shoulder-length style, curled at the ends

Waves: This style involves soft waves

Pompadours: The hairstyle involves the sweeping up of hair back from the face and sculpting it to be more voluminous.

Snoods: This is a sort of net worn over the hair, usually with a rat (a sort of device used to increase volume at the front of the hair)

Scarves: Were popular replacement for hats, used to cover their hair when going out.

#Fantasy Guide to 1940s fashion #1940s fashion #1940s clothes #1940s #Ww2 #Ww2 fashion #writing #writeblr #writing resources #writing reference #writing advice #writer #spilled words #writer's problems #writer's life #wtwcommunity

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poetticoo · 1 month ago

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Happy New Years .ᐟ ♡ ❪ Sylus × Reader ❫

ⓘ Warnings ⓘ : None — General Audience.

Synopsis: Sylus was never one to socialise outside of work or tactic matters, but under the inspection of Y/N's best friends, the Almighty Tara and the Great Caleb, he somehow feels like he just met the parent-in-laws.

Genre: 「 #Romance 」「 #Fluff 」「 #Found Family」

Notes: Female reader · she/her pronouns. Tara has been changed to y/n's, Caleb's, and Zayne's childhood + (best) friend, and they call each other siblings. Please note this is not true information in the canon events, as none of them are related to each other.

Tags: @eiuuui so far, thank you very much for showing interest!

"SYLUS, hurry up! We are going to be late!"

"I'll have to remind you that I am never late."

"Shut it! It's your fault, look at this mess!"

"Personally, I think I look quite dashing, regardless."

Y/N scowled up at his smug little smirk, swatting his chest rather harshly in reprimand. She tried to save his suit by gliding her fingers over the absurd amount of fabric wrinkles, straightening his coat as carefully as she could.

"I can't believe this, it's like I'm dating a three years old," she muttered under her breath, making Sylus swallow down a laugh at her adorable grumbling.

His girlfriend wasn't usually a overly fussy person, but tonight was a exception. Not only was it New Years, but it was also Tara's birthday. She wanted to be there early and leave as late as possible. Problem was, the leader of Onychinus got into some trouble himself with some petty burglars, and her so carefully put-together outfit she made him wear was not in the best conditions.

"If anyone asks me at this point, I don't know you."

This time, Sylus really did laugh, wrapping a arm around her waist, his touch warm and tender against her backside. She narrowed her eyes up at him, knowing exactly what he is trying to do the moment he brought her closer and into his embrace.

"Your dear Tara would be disappointed, she was excited to see your plus one, no?... We don't want to upset her on her birthday," he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, before his thumb and index finger trailed down to cup her chin, tilting her head up.

Wow, now that was unfair.

"Um... first of, let me go," Y/N poked his nose, "second, we are going to upset her by being late. Clean up your shoes and let's go!" she gave him a wet towel, turning around to finish some last minute preparations.

Sylus sighed, very reluctant to release her but nevertheless heed her order. He glanced down at his shoes, crouching down to wipe off some bloody remnants. Thankfully, his formal oxford shoes came in black.

"I'm nervous," Y/N suddenly spoke, waiting for him to finish. She, of course, was dolled up with a black terra woolen vintage dress that he bought only for her, and dark winter pantyhose paired with black heels. His eyes softened as he watched her playing with the material, a pleasant little smile on her lips.

He knew she didn't get many chances to dress up, often having insecurities about not being and not feeling pretty. So the silver-haired man took quiet pleasure at seeing her so content.

He'll share all his treasure gold with her, if he gets to see her insecurities crumbling away.

"Why is that, sweetie?"

She shrugged, glossed lips tilting up to a sheepish smile. "Tara, Caleb, Zayne... you know they're like my family, right?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, feeling his eyes narrowing at the memory of a tall dark haired doctor and the way he was looking at her. "I'm aware."

"So... you're meeting them for the first time... as my boyfriend," she shrugged. "You don't think it's a bit... soon?"

He paused, looking at her blankly.

She glanced at him, apprehensive.

He looked at her.

And she looked at him back.

Oh.

Sylus came to an abrupt realisation, feeling his face paling.

I'm meeting my in-laws.

"So you are the infamous Sylus, huh?" Tara looked up at him, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on one leg. She was a tiny thing to Sylus perspective, looking like a irritated hamster more than anything else.

"Coming so late to dinner, aren't you ashamed?" Caleb mimicked her actions, though his glare was much more prominent, and though he was around the same height and build as Sylus, it didn't erase his youthful features the least.

"Caleb." Y/N warned him, shoulders squaring up.

"My apologies," Sylus apologised smoothly, wrapping a arm around Y/N's back, making sure it was in a appropriate distance from her behind. The effect was instantaneous, for his little kitten immediately relaxed at his touch. "I'm afraid we got stuck in a traffic because of me."

"Oh?" Tara raised an eyebrow. "Because of you?"

"I forgot to change the car tires for the current snowy weather," he patted Y/N's head, making her purse her lips at his lies. Not because she didn't approve, everything to get out of her best friends' scrutiny really, but because she didn't want to laugh. There was a elephant in the room that was waiting to be addressed. "Thankfully, Y/N reminded me the moment she noticed it."

"You're rather reckless," Caleb huffed.

Sylus smiled, this time in both amusement and sincerity. "Your friend hasn't let me forget that, either."

Tara and Caleb glanced at Y/N, and the three of them had a strange stare off that Sylus wasn't privy to.

Honestly, he was almost offended.

Finally, Tara turned away from them both and rolled her eyes, grinning up at him energetically. "Well, it seems like we are going to spend New Years together! Welcome to my home!"

"A pleasure to be here," he nodded, and when a sharp jolt tugged his wrist, he glanced at his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N looked beyond irritated, something that activated alarms on his head. His eyes narrowed, looking at Caleb with a red flash of warning.

The boy had the decency to look regretful, at least.

"Excuse us for a bit, we'll be at the veranda."

Y/N exhaled a sigh of relief as he tagged her closer, escorting them out from the tense atmosphere.

"What is wrong with you?!" They heard Tara hissing, before a clap sounded from their direction, most likely from her hand hitting the back of Caleb's head.

Y/N sighed, but chuckled softly, her heart warming knowing her true friend was on her side at least. She knew Caleb was rather cautious as a fighter pilot, at the Deepspace Aviation Administration in Skyhaven at that, but the fact that he couldn't even be at least polite to her boyfriend was a dealbreaker.

"I haven't ruined your new years, have I?" Sylus broke the companiable silence, looking down at her with a soft red gaze.

"Of course not," Y/N reassured him, leaning her head on his bicep, their eyes tracking the slow fall of the snowflakes to the white ground. "Caleb and Zayne are being difficult, that's all."

He hummed. "I understand why Zayne didn't come, it's honestly for the best and if anything, I do not hold it against him."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

He smirked down at her. "Men talk too, sweetie."

She pouted, wrapping her arms around him, her chin resting comfortably on his chest. "I didn't know you and him were buddy-buddies."

"We are not," he was quick to refuse, as if the mere thought of it was repulsive. "We have just come to an understanding."

"An understanding?"

"As men." he nodded.

"As men," she mocked, jabbing her index finger at his side, making him gasp. "Does he have a new years date?!" Y/N became excited, she always wanted to see Zayne in a relationship, but the man was always so busy with his hospital work.

Sylus glared at her, clasping her hand on his firmly, his smirk widening on his lips. "I find it funny, how excited you seem to see if another man brought some-"

"Shh!" she shushed him, having the audacity to look annoyed as she placed her finger on his lips, silencing him. "Don't even start with the whole jealousy thing. He's one of my best friends, I just want him to be happy."

Sylus couldn't help it, he kissed her finger gently, before nibbling on the skin with a content sigh, his hands traveling down her arms to tag her closer, relishing the gasp that escaped from her pretty mouth.

"Does he know that. hm?" His fingers danced over her shoulders, touch featherlike, testing her own resolve.

"Yes," Y/N said firmly. "Don't enunciate otherwise. We are good friends to each other. You should try being one too."

Sylus chuckled, his entire being dripping with amusement. "Oh, I'm an excellent friend," he leaned in, lips brushing her temple. "Especially for you, kitten."

Y/N closed her eyes, eyebrows furrowing in slight contempt. "I don't like it when you get like this."

His head dipped even closer than before, their nose almost brushing against each other. "What? Jealous?" He chuckled. "You are mine, after all, and I become nothing but just a man when it comes to you." He tilted his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the soft skin of her cheek. "Besides... I know you like me like this."

She felt her face warming up, a shaky laugh escaping her lips. "You're incorrigible, and insane, and you have absolutely nothing to be jealous of," she reached out to cup his face lovingly, brushing her thumb over the flushed apple of his cheek. "The one I adore is you."

And that was all he needed to hear for his being to relax. His crimson eyes softened, glistening softly under the christimas lights. His breath hitched on his throat, lips darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. He chuckled lowly, leaning to her touch, nuzzling to her warm hand. He could feel his heart beating wildly against his chest, tightening almost painfully.

So that's what it feels like, loving someone unconditionally.

"Bad kitten," he breathed out, closing his eyes as he inhaled that sweet scent of yours from inside your wrist. "You always know how to push my buttons."

Y/N felt her own heart skip a beat, and she couldn't help herself when she stepped even closer to him, tilting his head towards her. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his chin, reveling the sound of his small and almost quiet surprised gasp. She wrapped her arms around him and jumped up, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

She almost giggled at how lovestruck he looked, but she knows she mustn't look much different either.

Sylus sighed, a loving smile appearing on his face as he leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips with his own. He stayed right then and there, relishing the feeling of the soft plump skin, of the way her sighs spurred him on even more, and the way she cradled his head in her hands, as if he was her most precious treasure.

Sylus never felt more loved before.

It was a foreign feeling, before she came waltzing into his life like a thunderstorm.

"Alright guys, only one minute left!" Tara banged on the door, knowing very well to not go into places where couples reside. She learned her lesson back in the hospital, when she visited Dr. Greyson. Zayne walking in on them should be a picture posted in history books.

Y/N sighed, parting away from him slowly, almost reluctantly. Sylus wasn't done with her though, for his head dipped down to leave a trail of fire down her neck, making her hum in pleasure.

"Come on, my big bad wolf, we're going to miss the fireworks," she huffed out a laugh, taking a step back and grasping his hand, tugging him towards the other side of the house.

"10!"

If someone told her she would be dating the leader of a criminal organisation a year ago, she would have laughed right in their face.

"9!"

If someone told him he would fall in love with a hunter, the very people who chase after him to put him behind bars, he would have called you delusional.

"8!"

Yet they were here.

"7!"

Bound by duty, like a contract at first, trying to outplan one another. Hating each other guts.

"6!"

Yet they still fell in love, somewhere in the way.

"5!"

They don't know when it happened, maybe it was that cold november night, not even a month after they met.

"4!"

Maybe it was when they first kissed. Or was it when they almost lost each other at the hands of death?

"3!"

"Sylus?"

"2!"

"Hm?"

"1!"

"I love you, darling."

"Happy New Year!"

She saw the way his lips parted, before a brilliant smile graced his features. He was gentle, and tender, and warm and loving. It made fall in love with him all over again. It made her mad, almost obsessed.

"I love you too, my love," he whispered in her ear, placing a loving kiss on the side of her forehead, eyebrows furrowing in subtle longing.

Y/N sighed, and fell into his warm embrace.

A/N: I hope you guys like this new years special! I loved tapping into Sylus jealousy, because I don't find him as someone who will easily get jealous like Xavier, but he can definitely feel it as subtle as it was. Plus, I think out of all the LI's, he would probably be more alert about Zayne, especially considering his history with us.

Happy new years, Sylus girlies!

── ❀˖°🫐₊ ⊹ blueberry ᡣ𐭩

#❀˖°🫐₊ ⊹ blueberry ᡣ𐭩 #love and deepspace #lads #love & deepspace #sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus lads #sylus x y/n #she/her #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #tara love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #mentioned zayne love and deepspace #fluff #romance #divider by cafekitsune #dividers by adornedwithlight

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johnbrand · 3 months ago

Text

Updated Employee Handbook

Ding! Ding!

Clark groaned. “Did you just get this email from Corporate?”

“I think so,” Weston frowned. “‘Updated Employee Handbook’?”

“That’s the one,” Clark confirmed, the pair opening their respective emails. “Ever since this new CEO was confirmed, I feel like he’s been restarting and refreshing everything we do here.”

Weston scoffed, “We can’t even enjoy our 30 minute break outside the office without somehow getting looped back in.

Click. Click.

“Are we sure we want to read this now?” Clark flicked a blond curl out of his face. “We could just enjoy the remaining minutes of our ignorant freedom.”

Weston chuckled, “I don’t know if we can, man. It’s flagged for mandatory reading, immediately.”

“I just hope they’re not revoking the jeans policy,” Clark commented. “I didn’t bring an extra set of clothes.”

Weston scratched at his man bun with an exaggerated sigh. “I did, but that’s because I knew I’d already be sweating through this shirt by now.”

Fwoosh. Fwoosh.

“Step by step confirmations?” Clark remarked. “This’ll be fun.”

“You know it,” Weston added.

Confirm. Confirm.

“‘The foundations of a man’s future are found in his wardrobe',” Clark began. “‘Traditional, full cut briefs are the center. Their stiff, starchy materials, blindingly white to showcase utter perfection, solidify the role of an employee. Their cotton fabric may appear inconsequential, yet they affirm that the employee is at the very core follwing instruction’.”

Confirm. Confirm.

Weston shifted his bottom uncomfortably. “‘A pristine button-down should expertly cover the upper body. Depending on the weather, and the corporate setting, the following should either be a suitable pair of trousers or shorts. Trousers shall remain woolen and perched millimeters below the briefs and only be supported by braces. Shorts can be designed of lighter material, but must be of adequate length’.”

Confirm. Confirm.

“At least he’s letting our legs breathe,” Clark commented, itching at his own exposed limbs absentmindedly. “‘While the stiff shirt and particular cut of the trousers will keep the employee upright and tall, the jacket is designed for decorative purposes. The shape will reform the man as thick, strong, and uniform. Depending on the season, colors will remain modest. Blacks, grays, and blues for winter, with simple patterns and refined hues allowed for summer’.”

Confirm. Confirm.

Weston pulled at his striped lapel, thankful that his choice of attire today was not too exciting. “‘Accessories shall follow a similar suit. Silky black socks, generic yet tasteful tie, a handkerchief and or watch reflective of wealth, not personality. A highly polished pair of oxfords should represent every employee’s wardrobe; the gel holding his hair should represent how the employee is held to standards’.”

Confirm. Confirm.

“This better be the last page,” Clark moaned. “This is giving me more of a headache than refluffing my quiff.”

“It’s almost as agonizing as visiting an inexperienced tailor,” Weston quipped, to which both men laughed.

“Alright alright, I got this,” Clark finally said. “‘The foundations of a man are found in his wardrobe. Therefore, what is built upon that foundation should match. After all, the clothes do make the man’. There, that’s it.”

“Thank god that’s the last one,” Weston agreed.

Confirm. Confirm.

“Quite the peculiar update to our terms of service, wouldn’t you agree?” Clarence remarked.

“Well how so?” Wesley questioned. “I maintain that the boss’s wishes perfectly align with the standard workplace etiquette."

“My point exactly,” Clarence confirmed. “What is unordinary is how these quotations were not enforced before. The sense here is that I have already adorned this Cascade green jacket numerous times throughout these last two quarters alone.”

“And I with my own blazer showcasing these off-golden buttons,” Wesley added. “Perhaps our boss is tastefully solidifying our strong, traditional, classic values, even if we were already abiding.”

Meeting Invite for CLARENCE JOHNSTONBOROUGH, WESLEY LAUDER II

“Bizarre how we appear to consistently be transported back to our duties, even while on intermission, is it not?” Clarence inquired.

“Indeed, it is bizarre,” Wesley replied.

#male tf #male transformation #preppification #unintended results

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on-a-lucky-tide · 3 months ago

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Nik admires John.

cw: possessive Nikolai; sexual content at the end.

Nik didn't much like festive parties. He wasn't a fan of Christmas anyway; a wanton celebration of capitalist greed, he had mumbled at John as they had shaved shoulder to shoulder in the hotel bathroom. John had chuckled in that low, gravelly way he did, blue eyes crinkling, and Nik had decided he would make love to him when they got back. Dressed like penguins - John's words - they had headed out into the cold night, hailing a black cab to take them to the more auspicious centre of London to an entirely different hotel. Nik had offered to purchase a suite there for the night but John had balked at the cost.

The dinner had been uneventful, with small talk and a few side glances in Nik's direction, and now they mingled around a marquee erected on the back of the hotel's gardens. A small oasis in the center of a city once choked with black smoke and industry. Nik might have admired the beautiful orangery or spent some time looking at the various art pieces in the reception hall, but he simply couldn't tear his eyes away from John.

He was, truly, magnificent.

His tailored suit fit him perfectly despite his earlier derision, from the flare of his broad shoulders to his narrow waist, the fall of his trousers hanging in well-cut, straight lines to a pair of Oxfords, buffed and polished to within an inch of their lives. Nik would expect nothing less.

John wore his dinner suit with an understated class. Not like the vacuum tight monstrosities some of the other officers were walking around in; pinched jackets around athletic waists, slim fit shirts, trousers like drainpipes, stretched so tightly that the crease down the front was invisible. They showed off a distasteful amount around the crotch, calf and thigh, in Nik's opinion; the material snagging and pulling in all the wrong places.

Why spend thousands on a suit just to look cheap? Coiffed hair, too-white teeth, synthetic, clingy fabrics; the earmarks of superficiality. Perhaps he was biased, but not a single one of those bleach-toothed smiles held a candle to the crinkled blue eyes and charmingly crooked grin of his captain.

Nik stayed at the edges of the party, propping up the bar for the most part. He watched John drift from group to group, ticking off the list of people he wanted to talk to as well as the list of people he knew he should talk to. John hated politics, but he was good at it when he had to be; attentive, diplomatic, guarded and dangerous. Nik could see it in the way he moved across the room, his shoulders squared, his head up, his chest out; a predator plucked from the wild and placed among domesticated dogs.

John's hand nursed his whiskey glass, his little finger tucked beneath it, forefinger tap-tapping in the lull of conversation like it did against the side of his M4 when he was thinking. The same John, different hostile environment.

Because they were in an outside marquee, John could smoke to keep his hands occupied, and he placed his glass aside to light up the cigar he plucked from his dinner jacket. One of the Cohibas Nik had gifted him with as an early present. He was flexing. A subtle flex, but a flex none of the less. Nik shifted his thighs apart and sat his elbows back against the bar, quietly preening. He provided for what was his. John never went without.

He watched John's lips against the cap, the soft pink slightly chapped, and tried not to get lost in the memory of what they felt like against his. The anticipation of what they would taste like as they surrendered to him later. John exhaled grey smoke to the side, a few stray whisps curling from his mouth, like a dragon with embers in its chest. He settled it through the slant of his fingers beside his whiskey glass and took another sip, those kissable lips glistening, tongue gliding over the lower in search of the last drops and Nik had to adjust in his stool.

Nik couldn't help but love it when that mouth smiled, talked, laughed, and think about kissing it, sliding his fingers behind John's neck and cupping his strong jaw in the cradle of his palm. The way John would melt against him, so pliant when touched by a man who knows how to handle him, how to pluck his strings and tease out the sweetest notes.

Because John needed a firm hand, didn't he? No matter how cleverly he disguised his rough edges with smart suits and a comb. Tonight, John was perfectly groomed, so tidy. His beard trimmed, his hair cut and brushed into place, but there was one thing John couldn't buff, polish, trim or press out of himself.

The eyes.

Nik could see their light, their fire; he watched them darken with concentration, brighten with laughter, the lines at the corners distinct, distinguished. They glittered with that same intelligence that let him slip behind his current facade, but also with cunning, and a barely suppressed wildness simmering below the surface; fierce, uncontrollable. While John might think his judgments were discreet from others, Nik could see him weighing some of the men before him and finding them wanting. It was clear in the tilt of his shoulders, the press of his lips.

They were wanting. Both in what they lacked compared to their better standing before them, and in their desire to have him. Nik wasn't the only man in the room whose gaze had lingered, admired. Coveted. Nik wanted to gouge their eyes out every time he spotted one. How arrogant they were to think they were even worthy. Their hunger was palpable. There was one watching John now. Blond hair slicked back, his hand buried deep in his pocket as his hips tilted in John's direction.

As the lounge singer they had hired for the evening picked up his microphone for his first song, Nik watched the Blond try his hand. John greeted him affably, bouncing on his toes and toasting his drink. Nik watched as the Blond introduced himself and was pleased to see no recognition on John's face. They began to discuss a recent operation; the Blond started boasting. John was unimpressed, one eyebrow cocked, and Nik smirked.

They talked for a little longer, the singer lapsing from one song into another, and the Blond touched John's elbow. Nik watched a subtle tension roll across John's shoulders, his core tightening, his fingers turning whiter around his glass, and then, with practised self control, John forced himself to back down from high alert. For the first time, those blue eyes slid across to Nik, tracing down his body to the spread of his legs, heels of his shoes hooked on the bar stool. They lingered, clearly admiring, and Nik spread himself for appraisal.

Nik saw the moment John decided to play with him. A twitch at the corner of his lips, a flash of those cunning blue eyes before they turned back to the Blond. A dangerous game. The Blond that had now become John's prey. His body language changed subtly, shoulders and chest opening up from where they had been guarded, and then John returned the touch; a brush of the fingers across the elbow. Luring him in for the kill. The Blond leaned close to talk a little quieter and John tilted his head, watching through his eyebrows, listening with a faint smile.

The lounge singer changed songs; a slow, sultry version of 'You Put A Spell On Me'. Perfect, Nik thought wryly. Because John had cast a spell on every man in the room that was inclined towards another man in their bed. Nik watched The Blond touch John again, on the hip this time, and vaguely considered how easy it would be to bundle the arrogant shit into the back of a van and cut that hand off with a machete.

Nik finished his drink and slid from the bar stool. He made his way over slowly, adjusting his cufflinks as he approached his target from behind, looming large at his back. "Ah, Nik, this is Major Dustin Houghton, Royal Anglian," John said, and Houghton startled as he looked around to see Nik standing over him, six inches taller and several miles broader. "Major, this is Nikolai, my husband."

"Your...?" Houghton started, eyes dropping to Nik's left hand, where his silver wedding ring wrapped his finger.

"Da," Nik said flatly, watching as Houghton's offending hand retreated into his pocket. "And I have come to collect my husband for a dance."

"Urf, Nik, really? The Major and I were just discussin'--actually, what were yer proposin', Major? Somethin' ya wanted to show me in yer room..."

"Oh, uh, nothing. Absolutely nothing of import. You two, uhm, ahh, I think that's... Yes, that's Frank from the Mercian, you two have a lovely evening."

"Yeah, 'course." John watched him leave over the rim of his whiskey glass, content in his victory. Or so he believed.

Nik took John by the elbow to steer him towards the small floor before the singer. A few other couples were swaying together amongst the jumble of bodies, and Nik took John's glass and placed it on a nearby table, setting his cigar over the top before encircling him, hands finding his narrow hips and drawing them close.

John placed a hand on Nik's chest and the other on his arm, smirking, ready to gloat. "Did I make ya jealous?"

Nik cocked a brow and leaned in to John's neck. The kisses he placed beneath John's ear, slow, lingering, teased a soft noise from John's chest, his hips bumping forward to Nik's. "Nyet, John. Jealousy is for boys and weak men who do not know their own worth. He could not take you from me. He is not worthy of you."

Nik felt John coil with pleasure against him. He could imagine how his toes were curling in his shoes, the hairs on his arms standing on end, as Nik's voice passed over his skin like a caress.

"Naw, ya don't think so?"

"I do not need to think. I know."

"Olrigh', not jealousy, then what? Why the Russian 'itman act?"

"I am possessive," Nik murmured. "But you know this, which is why you sought to... antagonise me by misbehaving."

"Yeah?"

Nik felt John's smile against the side of his face and nuzzled a kiss into his neatly trimmed beard.

"I am tempted to reclaim you in front of them all."

"Right here, eh? Give 'em all somethin' to gossip about."

"Da. I would spread your legs right here, and make you scream my name, leave you fucked full of me, so they all know to who the great Captain John Price belongs to."

"Fuckin' filthy," John purred, his voice thick, fingers kneading in Nik's shirt as their bodies swayed together, the deep, sultry voice of the lounge singer a pleasant hum in the background. Nik's thumbs circled on John's hips, his nose tracing over the frantic, desperate pulse in the side of John's neck. Their touches were discreet, Nik's voice low, but the illicit nature only made their blood run hotter.

"You would like them to watch you take my cock, see how beautiful you are, knowing that they can never have you as I do."

"Bloody 'ell," John rasped, and Nik knew he had won their game. He simply needed to deliver the final blow and claim his prize.

"They would see how easily you surrender yourself to me," Nik whispered, running his open mouth over the line of John's beard to hover over his lips. "Just as you are now."

"Nik..." John whispered before Nik took his chin and kissed him, sweeping his other hand to the small of his back. Nik held John close as his tongue swept between his lips and claimed what was rightfully his. Tasted the cheeky tongue, the soft lips soaked in whiskey, taking possession of everything he had admired from afar.

Nik drank down the soft moan of pleasure, his own body warming as John gripped at him, trying to pull as close as possible. They moved together, so deeply tuned in to each shift of muscle, the slide of expensive wool and cotton beneath their hands, the heat of their bodies burning through as their hearts fluttered.

John liked being hunted, but he liked being possessed even more. To know that Nik would pursue him through whatever storm or trial until he was back where he belonged: in Nik's arms. And once there, to have Nik demonstrate exactly to whom he belonged. Nik needed it as much as he did it. The thrill of possessing the one thing in the world that no one else could ever. That no amount of money could ever buy; the most beautiful man to walk it.

Nik could feel the hum of want thrumming through the strong body in his arms, primed and eager, and he knew he would be purchasing that expensive hotel room after all. He drew back, sucking gently on John's lower lip, and admired those hazy blue eyes. The song has drawn to an end and faded into another. John was thoroughly at his mercy.

"Come, I am bored of this party."

John swallowed and managed a nod, his lips were red, kiss swollen and glistening and Nik needed them stretched around his prick.

Nik took his hand and pulled him from the hall to reception, where a quick flash of plastic bought them the expensive studio room with a sprawling king-sized bed and champagne in the fridge. Nik kissed John in the lift, sliding a hand beneath his shirt to feel the heat of his skin and made him stutter out tight gasps with sucking kisses on his neck, beneath his ear. The door to the room had barely clicked shut before their clothes were thrown off, and they tumbled into the bedroom.

John swallowed Nik down greedily once it had sprung free from his boxers, lips stretched impossibly wide around its girth, and Nik mussed that too neat hair until he found the untamed man that stalked battlegrounds at his side, thrusting slowly into John's spasming throat as he squirmed on the mattress.

When Nik turned him onto his back and spread his thighs, John arched, offering himself desperately, pleading in a low, husky rasp, cock drunk and needy. He fisted the sheets as Nik claimed him, Nik's name punching out of his chest in a low, gravelly moan that curled like molten heat in Nik's gut. Those same eyes that he had watched hunt the party now misty and soft, tamed a little by pleasure, but no less bright.

"Who do you belong to, John?" Nik whispered, dragging his thick cock in and out in slow, deep thrusts.

"You, Nik, fuck... you, please."

"Da... Me." Nik thrust in hard and licked the cry of ecstasy from John's mouth.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #prikolai #dunno why this one fought me #i like hiw nik sees john #scruffy and beautiful #also listen you put a spell on me by austin giorgio

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frederickkittens · 6 months ago

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Sweet Lolita through the years

Part 1: Late 90s-2005 (ish) “Oldschool”

Oldschool sweet is the first truly recognizable form of sweet Lolita

Though during the Oldschool era the substyles had far more crossover and less individual traits I think there’s just enough that you still label coords from the time. When most people think of Oldschool they think of a solid color main piece with lace topped otks and a rectangle headdress… but Oldschool is so much more than that.

Oldschool in general was simpler, though some brands like Metamorphose Temps De Fille , Emily Temple Cute, and baby the stars shine bright were already making prints

Printed fabrics of fruits or florals were very common, but you did see a good amount of screen printed and appliquéd pieces coming out at the time too. Some very common sweet motifs in the oldschool era were:

•cats

•fruit

•alice in wonderland

•bunnies / rabbits

•bears

•alphabet / letter prints

•music notes

•hearts

The closer to the end of the identifiable oldschool era the more prints became popular! Though through most of the 2000’s prints would remain more minimal with the focus being on more structural elements like lace, bows, construction, and interesting fabric choices.

Due to the image limit on tumblr here’s a link to the correct sorting to see examples on lolibrary with examples of some early sweet prints and patterns. If you click the link on any of these items you’ll be able to view their lolibrary entries as well if available

Color balance wasn’t considered as highly as it is today, the overall vibe of Coords was more chaotic and experimental. A very make do attitude can be seen in many street snaps.

Patterned main pieces were another popular alternative to prints, things like gingham, stripes, tartan/plaid.

Bag choices were pretty varied, honestly in a lot of oldschool sweet coords people would use unique bags as the visual interest / focal point. You can already see that in someone of the coords above. Faux leather shaped bags like btssb’s heart bags weren’t very popular yet. A few brands had put out heart bags, such as milk, but they were much simpler and often real leather in limited colors. You also didn’t see usakumyas in their modern iteration until well into the 2000’s towards the 2010’s. Plush bags of the era did not have the same clean marketable look. Some common / popular bags were:

-basket / wicker purses

-plush animal bags

-tote bags

-matching fabric bags

-leather handbags

-designer handbags

Shoes at the time were much chunkier and much less cutesy even in sweet styles. Tea parties didn’t exist until a good deal past this time period- honestly most popular modern Lolita shoe styles weren’t really seen. Real leather was far more common, in a much more limited pallet. When you did see colored shoes they typically weren’t used to color balance a coord like we do now a days. A lot of different styles were worn though, including:

-Mary Jane’s

-Platforms

-Rocking horse shoes

-Boots

-Oxfords

-sandals

Socks are often overlooked in oldschool. I’ve seen so many people say printed socks weren’t worn even though they absolutely were and many brands made them. Sure, lace topped otks were the trend and the most popular option but simple motif printed socks absolutely existed and were worn!

Headpieces were one of the most varied category. So many different styles and kinds were worn.

-mini crowns

-hair ribbons

-hats

-bows

-canotiers

-mini hats

-lace headdresses

Jewelry / Accessories were one area that Oldschool definitely was simpler. However brands were absolutely making both jewelry and other accessories. Plain metal necklaces with various motifs were common, lace chokers, faux collars, capes, ties, and though extremely uncommon you do sometimes run across wrist cuffs. Hopefully there’s more of an effort to start documenting jewelry and accessories from this time since it’s quite lacking

Makeup and hair were something that like all eras of Lolita followed the over all cultural trends of the time. More minimal make or simple 90’s - early 2000’s makeup is seen often. As for hair there’s so many different styles that really it would be impossible to list them all. In older magazines there’s often sections with hair tutorials and makeup tutorials!

Common lace styles included Torchon, Cotton, Eyelet, and Raschel. Many different trims and such were used in addition to these.

Part 2 and part 3

Scan credits @obscuredesireofbourgeoisie

If you want to see more old magazine scans

Lolita history

Internet archive

#sweet lolita through the years #oldschool lolita #old school lolita #sweet lolita #lolita fashion #egl history

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texhongyuan · 7 months ago

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Oxford Cloth Waterproof Fabric

#Oxford Cloth Waterproof Fabric

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incorporealbombchelle · 2 months ago

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Friend of the Family

Mr. Reed × Fem! (Mid-20s) Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Part 3 - (y/n)'s Christmas wishes are finally fulfilled...

⚠️TW: Age Gap, Oral Sex (Female Recipient), Raw P in V Penetration, Minimal Dirty Talk, Light Slutshaming, General Smut. 🎄

He removes the oven mitts and his attention is back on me, where it belongs.

Mr. Reed perches his glasses on top of his head and strokes my cheek, sympathetic to my plight.

I narrow my eyes at him "You don't even mean it. You're a total tease."

He grins.

"And you, sweet (y/n), are a brat." He takes on a more serious tone, "All those eyerolls, all that huffing and puffing when you dont get exactly what you want, right when you want it. You've abdolutely no restraint. You're entitled, and especially to what's not yours." A self-satisfied smirk "You're clever, beautiful, naughty, and you think those traits are enough to get by on. The quintessential Oxford scholar by day, party princess by night. I knew a great many girls like you when I was an Oxonian. Which is why that behaviour," he points a finger at me "must end immediately, if you're to be respected."

I scoff at his indictment.

"You're wrong-"

"You've spent the entirety of the morning trying to get me to bend you over the kitchen counter. Even before your father had left the house, why is that?" His brows raise momentarily and he knows he's got me pegged.

I feel myself go red.

"Because..." I trail off, unable to find the words or meet his gaze. I don't like him calling me out like this, it makes me feel dirty, but I listen when he speaks.

"Because, (y/n), you want it so desperately that you can't even wait for me to take you to bed." He leans down, lips just centimeters from my ear and whispers. "You need it right here. Right now. And you think you'll get it too, if you're persistent enough. " he chuckles.

I shiver at the sensation of his breath on my neck and he's not wrong, but I can't let him be right.

"No-"

"You've been so completely transparent from the moment you crossed my threshold, it's a marvel Jonathan hasn't noticed by now. I almost want to tell him, if just to point out the true depths of his incomptence, the poor bastard."

My eyes go wide and my mouth is dry and- "Please don't. Don't tell him. I'll behave, keep my hands to myself, I promise. I swear, Mr. Reed, I'll-"

His hands are on either side of me, trapping my body in its place against the counter.

"Well. Let's not be hasty, mm? I was only making a point. I didn't say I was going to tell him. Despite your best efforts and worst behaviours, I find you to be quite...captivating."

"Oh?"

He's so close I can feel his body heat, it would be so easy to kiss him, to touch him, but I don't. Restraint. His eyes hold mine and Mr. Reed looks down on me like he has what I want, knows something I don't.

"There it is."

"What?"

"That look. The look you gave me last night. That look, says everything without a word. It says 'touch me. Use me, harshly. Make me Whole.' And is that what you want, (y/n)? Ultimately, I mean. To be with someone through which you see yourself made complete?"

Yes. Yes.

"No." I state, defiant.

The air between us is charged as he leans down to press a few small, soft kisses into the side of my throat. "You, " He murmurs into the skin of my neck, continuing his trail of light pecks down onto my collarbones, "are a terrible liar," his fingers rake up under the fabric of my sweater, pulling it over my head and throwing it aside. He takes a moment to appreciate my breasts before resuming his succesion down my body, sinking to his knees before me. "but I shall grant you your wish," Mr. Reed's eyes meet mine and his fingers hook into the sides of my pajama shorts and the dampened panties beneath, dragging them swiftly down my legs, "because really, who am I to deny the need of a gorgeous, entirely desperate young woman, hm?" A close-lipped smile.

I'm completely exposed before him and I step out of the shorts. He discards them over his shoulder, looking up at me, eye-level with my sex. Taking a deep breath, I part my legs for him.

Mr. Reed holds my calves steady as he licks a long stripe up my left inner thigh from knee to labia, then does the same to the opposite side. "(y/n), rest your elbows back on the counter for me."

I do, and he sweeps the backs of my thighs up, letting one rest on either of his shoulders. He's surprisingly strong for his age and I watch his eyes close as he inhales my scent before dragging his tongue up my vulva eagerly, methodically. His mouth is hot and his eyes are somehow bluer than they were, I watch them roll back, closing as he carries on.

His grip is firm on my thighs and I gasp at the way he moans into me, a heavenly vibration as he slips a finger inside, pumping few times in a slow and steady rhythm before adding a second. Plucking the glasses from his head, I set them on the counter, and weave a hand into his hair.

I'm tense with need and feel myself starting to tighten up around his fingers. "Mr. Reed," I pant, "Please-" crossing my ankles over his back as he continues.

The tip of his tongue works agonizingly slow circles over my clit and I clench a couple times. "Mister R-Reeed, I'm- mmh," I moan, hips bucking involuntarily, as he gradually speeds up the pace of his fingers.

It's a dizzying feeling in tandem with the slow friction of his tongue and I'm almost there. "Mister Reed, I- ohh my God!" It comes out as a helpless whimper and my head falls back as orgasm drives through my body in a series of demanding pulsations. My eyes close and I feel weak, hot and filthy as I attempt to catch my breath.

Mr. Reed stills his movements as I start to come down somewhat, flustered and trembling. He withdraws his fingers and gives them a quick taste before rising from his kneeling position and grabbing a tea towel from the counter to freshen up with. He gives my forehead a peck. "Thank Y-you," I breathe, blinking up at him

"You're very welcome..." he murmurs. I take a second to let my gaze drag over him. He's so pretty. Hair disheveled, panting, cardigan askew. His cock is hard, throbbing, ready. I reach for it but he seizes my wrist, eyes wide in warning.

"Ah-ah. No dessert without dinner," I flush at this and he smirks. "Tonight, you learn temperance. And if you're good, you might earn yourself a nice shag. In a bed, this time." He teases.

Mr. Reed gives me a wink, dropping my arm, and snatches his glasses off the counter, removing a phone from his cardigan pocket and leaning back against the kitchen island. I watch him adjust himself and his brow furrows as he reads a text.

"(y/n), purple or green?" He asks, not looking up.

"Why?" I collect my clothes from the floor, pulling them on hastily.

"Why do you think? It obviously has to do with your gift, now choose."

"Green."

He taps at his phone some then places it back in his pocket, flashing me a contented grin.

"Perfect. Now, I believe you were headed upstairs to change, yes?"

"No, I-"

"So you'd like to be sat here in the same pajamas, smelling like sex and shame when he gets back then? Bold of you."

"Okay fine, I'm going."

"Good choice."

I simper at him, exhaling through my nose, and wait til my back is turned to roll my eyes this time, making my way down the hallway and up the stairs.

After a long shower, I treat myself to a quick hour nap, only to be awoken by my phone buzzing violently under the pillow. It's a text from an unsaved number.

303-555-4844: Don't wear that slutty red top to dinner tonight. x

It has to be him and I tap back : how did u get this number?? have u been going thru my suitcase????

303-555-4844: Your dad's phone doesn't have a passcode and I wanted to get to know you better. He's back, by the way. Chewing my ear about gifting, the election, Zillow listings. Considering a shot of bleach. x

I stifle a laugh and save him to my contacts before figuring out a response.

Me: don't u have cookies to decorate?

Reed: They're done & drying. Are you?

I sit up and write him back, resituating the towel I'd fallen asleep wrapped up in.

Me: yep & avoiding the 2 of u

Reed: You wound me. Come down. x

Me: 🙄 do I have to?

Reed: Your insufferability reads well over text, I like it better in person. Come down. x

Me: fine gimme a sec

He likes me and I get ready, I get all dressed up, in black jeans and what I can only assume he meant by 'that slutty red top'.

In actuality, it's a somewhat thin, incredibly soft long-sleeved red henley shirt with snaps down the front. I undo a couple for effect, sort out my hair, slip my phone into my pocket and walk downstairs.

The kitchen smells fantastic and Mr. Reed and Dad chatter on either side of the island, sipping red wine and laughing loudly. Mr. Reed wears a maroon button down shirt, the top button undone and sleeves rolled. He's devastating. I take a breath and collect my thoughts, greeting the room with a sheepish smile.

"So he lives," I joke, giving Dad a quick side hug before taking the seat next to him at the counter.

"Hey Bug, yeah I barely made it out of there alive. I was just telling Mr. Reed that apparently the other shoppers were just as desperate. One lady even shoved me in the checkout line! But I guess that's what I get for waiting to shop til 2 days out, it's war out there!" He giggles.

"Get me something nice?" I question.

"No comment." Dad grins excitedly and gives Mr. Reed a look.

"Mr. Reed, did he?"

He smiles, looking up from his wine glass. "Not at liberty to say, I'm afraid." He winks at me as he sips, eyes flitting to my chest momentarily.

"Fine then," I cross my arms, looking between them "keep your secrets. I would like to know what's for dinner, though."

"Coq Au Vin," Mr. Reed states proudly, his French accent immaculate. "And Pinot Noir to compliment, obviously. Would you like some, (y/n)?"

"Love some. Small pours this time though." I laugh.

"Small pours and small sips, eh?" He quips back, pouring a half glass and pushing it across the counter to me.

We eat and laugh, drink and talk and 9:30 comes fast.

Dad's eyes are half-lidded and he yawns, rising from his stool.

"Well, it's been fun kids, but this old man must rest, lest my legs seize up from all that walking."

"Night, Dad."

"Sleep well, J."

Dad pads down the hallway and I watch Mr. Reed clear plates and pans, rinsing them in the sink, his back turned to me.

"So...Coq Au Vin, huh?" I sip my wine.

"I thought I told you not to wear that."

"I don't take fashion advice from old men."

He dries his hands, stepping around the counter to stand in front of me. I'm tipsy, not drunk, but my whole body goes warm as he looks me over, eyes lingering on my chest.

"To every action, (y/n), an equal or opposite reaction. What do you believe the equal or opposite reaction to this saucy little garment will be?"

"I dunno, Mister Reed..." I look but don't touch and my teeth sink into my lower lip as his eyes catch mine. He studies my face for a second and smirks.

"Upstairs. Now. Last door on your left."

I scoot off the stool and our bodies brush past eachother momentarily as I wander towards the hallway.

"Will you be joining me?" I ask over my shoulder.

"I'll be along in a minute. Get yourself comfortable in bed, text if you need anything."

I give him a quick nod and make my way upstairs to the last door on the left side of the hallway, pushing it open slowly.

Mr. Reed's bedroom, not unlike his kitchen, is obscenely large and incredibly well designed.

A four-poster bed, overlapping Persian rugs, and what appear to be stained glass windows. The walls are coated in the same bright green wallpaper as the living room and he's got cases upon cases of books and records lining them. I note a vinyl player on one end of the room, and a scented candle on one of the nightstands.

I close the door behind me gently and pad over to the nightstand with the candle on it. Yanking off my shirt, bralette and jeans, I carefully climb into his bed.

The sheets are silk and the room is warm and maybe I'm a little past tipsy, because laying in his bed feels like a divine experience. I'd be content just to be held here for hours on end. I stretch and relax my body, letting out a deep breath.

The door's handle turns and Mr. Reed steps inside, closing and locking it with caution. He stands at the end of the bed, taking in the sight of my body, warm, languid, vulnerable. All for him.

"Ohhh, you are Glorious. But are you comfortable?"

"Verrry," I purr, smiling as I sprawl out. "Your bed is so cozy..."

"If you're impressed with the bed alone, just wait till you find out what I plan to do to you in it." he smirks.

I prop myself up on my elbows to look at him properly. "And what is it you plan to do to me, Mr. Reed?"

"Turn over and I'll show you."

I follow his instruction, laying on my stomach, and look over my shoulder at him as he untucks and unbuttons his shirt. His arms are uncharacteristically muscular for a man his age, his chest is toned, his torso slender, and I have to swallow to keep myself from salivating.

I watch as he undoes his belt and unzips his pants. His boxers are navy blue paisley and his cock strains against them urgently as he climbs onto the bed behind me. He grinds its length against my ass, letting out a low groan into the crook of my neck as I arch back into him instinctively. I can't help the moan that leaves me as one of his hands wraps around my throat, squeezing lightly while the other snakes around my hip and under the hem of my panties, exploring the slickness of my folds.

"Not so contrarian now, are we, (y/n)?" He chuckles under his breath, slowly rubbing himself against me and my mind goes hazy when I feel his clothed cock twitch against the gusset of my panties.

"Mmmh, Mister Reed," I whimper "I need it..."

"And you'll have it, impatient little thing you are..." His fingers circle over my clit and I gasp.

Both of his hands leave me at once and I groan at the loss of sensation. He hooks his fingers under my hips, arching them higher to meet his own. Mr. Reed pulls my drenched panties aside to line himself up with me and without warning or hesitation, he slips inside with a singular harsh thrust.

I bite hard onto a pillow to keep from crying out. I'm not used to his length or his girth yet and it's shocking to feel this completely filled out all at once. His fingers return to my clit and I suck in a sharp breath, my whole body on edge as he starts to gently buck into my core, picking up pace quickly and I feel myself tighten around him.

"M-mister Reed.. ahh-hmmm, ke-eeep doing that, fuck!"

"I intend to, darling. You're so cute when you take it like this. Tell me something, (y/n), are you my good girl?"

"Y-yesss," manage, breathless.

"Mm? Sorry, didn't hear you there. I said: Are. You. My. Good. Fucking. Girl?" He rumbles. Every word is punctuated by a thrust and my mind goes blank as he continues ramming into me mercilessly.

"Yes! Oh my god, yes Mr. Reed! Yes!" I mewl, needy.

"There you are, and so pretty too. My sweet, pretty, dirty girl..." he pulls out and turns me over in one fluid motion, his mouth claiming mine in a hungry kiss.

He licks and nibbles his way down my neck to my chest, leaving tiny love bites on my breasts as he trails further along my torso and then finally he hovers over my center, drawing closer.

Mr. Reed flattens his tongue and laps from entrance to clit a few times before focusing the warmth of his tongue solely on my clit and inserting two curled fingers into me, working my G-spot thoroughly and I whine. "Oh my god-" my hands find his hair as he continues. "Mis-Mister Reeeed, if you keep doing that I'm gonna come..." I breathe. He groans into me and firmly grips my thigh with the hand that isn't working me to ecstasy.

I feel myself starting to tighten and clench and I try to hold on but it's useless. I fall apart around his fingers, whimpering and shaking as I do, and Mr. Reed gives me no time to recover.

He's instantly fucking me, pushing my knees up to my chest and dipping the fingers he just had inside me into my mouth. I take them in, sucking enthusiastically as I blink up at him.

"Ohh, you are just the most unbelievable sight, and making all these indecent little noises just for me.... tell me, (y/n)" he leans in to whisper in my ear, "where do you want it?"

I heave "anywhere, everywhere, please, I-"

He gives a few more jarring, final thrusts before pulling out, eyes fixed to mine as he slowly strokes himself, groaning, teeth sunk into his lower lip, eyes closing as his release beats out in thick spurts down my neck, chest and stomach.

His breath comes in ragged huffs as he takes a moment to collect himself before looking over my degraded, flushed and depleted figure.

"Stay right there, don't move an inch," He breathes unsteadily, making his way across the room to the dresser and tugging on a pair of dark grey sweatpants and a t-shirt. Mr. Reed exits the bedroom and returns a couple seconds later with a fresh towel for me. I take it and wipe myself off to the best of my ability, discarding it over the side of the bed.

He crawls back into bed and pulls me into his arms, pressing a kiss into the top of my head. "That," he pants " was brilliant. You're a vixen, (y/n), you know that?"

I sigh, trembling "Thank you."

"Oh you are more than welcome, thank You, (y/n)."

I plant a gentle peck on the center of his chest.

"One question. Small question."

"Anything."

"(y/n), do you believe in a God of some variant?"

"No, never, why?"

"You do a lot of 'oh my God '-ing when we...I thought I'd ask. I don't believe in that ridiculous nonsense either. It's all a system of control to keep people like you and I subdued, unambitious..."

"Oh." I feel myself blush "I didn't even realize.... yeah, no. I'd have to agree, I'm not a fan of organized religion."

I nuzzle my forehead into his chest and he rests his chin on my head.

"Mr. Reed?" I ask, somehwat muffled.

"(y/n)?" He chortles.

"I don't want to go back to my room..."

"Oh? I suppose you don't have to, necessarily... it is nearly christmas..." he strokes my hair, comforting. "but be there before he wakes up, mm?"

"Mhm." I confirm, eyes closing.

🎁Epilogue🎄

#em.fic6 #mr reed #mr. reed #heretic #mr reed x reader #fanfiction #mr. reed x reader #mr reed smut #smut #mr. reed fanfiction #hugh grant

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yanmuffins · 1 month ago

Note

Glad you getting better muffin! I just wanted to ask if you could show the style of clothes that teen!vampire!reader wore and when she become adult after and before the biting thing please?

context &. context.

anon i love you. i hope your crops are watered and your harvest is bountiful. i'm really excited that i get to talk about this!! disclaimer: i know a lot of people aren't too keen on inserts being too characterized or specific, but i hope everyone will enjoy her fashion style! i promise it's relevant and i had a lot of fun with it.

so. where do i even begin with this post?

it all begins, of course, with vampire! reader's coming to the wayne manor as a child and the circumnsances behind it. that was a huge shift in her life. she was very little when it happened, long before damian could even dream of being concieved. media was going insane over this bastard wayne child that appeared out of nowhere, hoping to catch a glimpse of her to stamp on next day's newspaper and magazines. and as guarded as she was from the public eye, public appearances were inevitable, even if they were minimal at the time. so it was very important for her to dress and behave very proper and put-together.

but damage control wasn't the only, or even the biggest reason she was dressed like that. we have already established vampire! reader's fashion sense was greatly influenced by alfred, yes (and it still kind of is) — but also the new (fancy, upper-class) environment she found herself in. alfred mostly dressed her in whatever he thought was fitting for a wayne child, and although his choices might have been a bit outdated, no words of complaint were uttered. little vampire! reader's outfits were the least of bruce's problems at the time.

but all in all, it was alfred wanting to welcome her into the family and make her legitimate, providing the best of the best, donning her in the best fabrics from the best seamstresses and the best boutiques. he would show her old pictures of her grandmother, martha wayne, how she dressed, would show her the jewelry that were her heirlooms, and let her take a look at martha's old clothes that she could use once she was old enough, if she so desired.

now reader's fashion choices walk hand in hand with her upbringing, with the education she recieved. she takes being a "proper wayne lady" very seriously. it was a choice of mine to only have vampire! reader wear darker, more somber colors. it overall fits thr wayne/gotham aesthetic as well as emphasizes her upbriging, her blending in to the point of not being noticed. darker colors are also heavily associated with vampires, so there's that too!

onto the outfits. now, teen! vampire! reader is a bit more laid-back and experimental than her child self. but... not really. she begins to coordinate her own outfits without alfred's help, but his influence is far too ingrained in her brain for her to truly distance herself from it. she has certain luxury brands she will and will not buy from, seamstresses she contacts when she wants a piece custom-made.

the excessive formality of her childhood outfits dwindles, but doesn't completely disappear. it gives place to looser silhouettes, a pop of a brighter, non-muted color here and there, a shorter (gasp!) skirt if she's feeling daring, cashmere cardigans and (gasp!) a pair of sneakers here and there. she will go for more formal outfits here and there, but they have a certain joviality to them. the mary-jane shoes are still there, and so are the ballet flats, but now they're joined by loafers and oxfords. of course we have the fancier, tailored fits, with the tweed jackets and such, but they're mostly reserved for fitting occasions. heavy on the usage of long black/grey skirts, usage of pants or shorter bottoms pretty much non-existent.

this is somehwere around the time she convinces bruce to ditch the homeschooling and let her attend high school.

now, as vampire! reader reaches adulthood, the laid-backness of her outfits take a backseat. she leans onto more mature options, martha wayne and alfred's influence back with more force as she adds plenty of her grandmother's belongings into her own wardrobe. with some adjustments, that iconic black dress martha wayne wore to that charity ball fits bruce wayne's daughter like a glove at yet another charity event at the manor. and so many 50's-inspired outfits. her skirts are long, pleated or circle/swing for a more voluminous look with the help of some peticoats. full of neat gathers. usually plain dark or grey in color, but sometimes there's a plaid or a pied-de-poule to add a bit of fun to the outfit.

and that's when she starts wearing martha wayne's jewelry, too, so vampire! reader is getting fancy old money points not just for wearing expensive designer items like they cost $99 cents, but also because a lot of her wardrobe has extremely valuable, genuine vintage pieces that she inherited from a family member.

(can you tell i'm having fun leaning into the nepo-baby aspect of this? because i am. this reader is emotionally neglected but broke she is not.)

here you don't really have the loose sillhouette anymore. there's a lot of things reminiscent of her teenage phase, but now we have puffy skirts with a snatched waist — but nothing too form-fitting, either! no such thing as pencil skirts in her wardrobe, elegant as they may be. sometimes you might get an off-shoulder moment, but that's about it. we have a lot of fur (from martha's wardrobe), wool, velvet, etc.

(most of these are for fancier occasions!!)

but although she wears a lot of vintage or vintage-inspired outfits, there are fits that very much modern. get this: vampire! reader wears pants. jeans, mostly, and not very often, now that she's gone to college, but still. ironically, the sneakers are pretty much out, with designer slingback heels taking their place. designer heels, in general. lots of bags.

vampire! reader also... kinda flirts with the color red here and there, before being turned into a vampire. just a little pop of red here and there, maybe it's a more daring choice of dress she wore. just eyeing the color red sheepishly one time or another. hehe.

and, of course, her style of dressing is very much related to her upbringing. shaped by it, actually. she does enjoy the way she dresses, but i do think it portrays well the overly-posh, demure and modest image she maintains even uncounciously. always safe and never daring (as in she will stick with the outfits she deems proper/appropriate and will not deviate from them, at least not too much), always aiming to honor the family name.

but! onto the more modern outfits that i put together myself:

these are outfits vampire! reader wears on a daily basis! at this point she goes out a bit more often, to go to class, go shopping, a stop by a nice restaurant for lunch…

now here's some more references that i found on pinterest:

now you must be asking yourself: what about haute couture? does vampire! reader purchase those gorgeous, straight-out-of-a-dream dresses? and the answer is no. not often, at least. again, she keeps a very muted, elegant, somber style with no room for sequins, rhinestones, intricate or unconventional designs, anything too flashy in general. in those occasions she’s invited to fashion weeks she might stare at some of them longingly, desperate to find a plain enough dress she can wear to one of those few public appearances in she’s allowed to make. this is all before vampire! reader... well, being turned into a vampire. but i will say that the changes start some time before her transformation. her gradual changes and ultimate style as a vampire are still a work in progress, i'll admit. but.

dresses get more fitted, at first. the necklines get lower. skirts get a tiny bit shorter. the outfits more playful, more risqué, more assymetrical. there are corsets, deep red and green velvet, delicate laces, sleeveless tops with no white blouse underneath. it's cunty, that's all. and honestly? this is once again vampire! reader being influenced, this time by her sire, as she goes out with them into the night. the confidence isn't really there, lots of outfits she hasn't really picked and isn’t comfortable wearing.

(jason, duke and damian are first to notice it, and it makes a few alarms go off in their heads.)

i have some references and inspo, lots of them from 90's and early 2000's fits. she’ll lean more into haute couture then.

but i’m still deciding on vampire! reader’s style once she gets turned. this is the overall gist of it, though. a femme fatale kinda vibe — sexier, cuntier and absolutely powerful once that confidence kicks in and she starts wearing what she wants.

so that’s it for now I guess?? thank you for the ask anon, this was super fun!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡と

#asks.#anonymous.#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #vampire! batsis.#long post.

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago

Text

Secret

Media The Artful Dodger (Pre Show Release)

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Cute

Warnings - Sexual Trauma / Rape/ 1800's Abortion

I was beyond fearful.

A thousand thoughts flew through my mind.

I worried about what my fate would be.

What would happen to me?

What little I could even do?

All with the knowledge, that this was a ticking time bomb. And the longer I lingered, the less time I would have.

This secret would not stay a secret forever, and every moment I waited jeopardised the potential of my secret being revealed. And if it were, there would be problems, to say the least.

So I had no alternative, I had to do something about it.

I dressed for the day in my boots, hosiery, bloomers, petticoats, frock, jacket, hat and parasol and headed down the stairwell to the front door.

"Where do you think you're off to?" My father spoke up as he arrived from his study, a glass of whiskey in hand.

His brother, my uncle beside him with his own and a cigar between his lips.

"Just off to the market," I lied as I tried to stare at the door and not glimpse at them both.

"I'll Accompany you," My uncle proposed with a smirk.

"No." I snapped, "No thank you, I think I would like the walk alone,"

"Alright, Be back before dark." My father demanded before he headed back to his study, I grabbed my gloves from beside the door and slipped them on in a rush to get out when my uncle came close, he rested his brown oxford shoe between my legs, pressed himself tightly to my body and came so close I could smell his whiskey, his cigar and the horrid scent of sour apples.

"Don't be late darling," He whispered in my ear

I didn't answer him so he just skulked off back to the study with my father, I squandered no time and scurried from the house I made sure to be seen at the market but I didn't make a single purchase I just wilted around and spoke to a few to make sure I would have been seen if anyone asked about me.

Once that was done, I made my way to the familiar house often frequented by those like me in circumstances with little hope, often as a last resort. The house was stunning; it couldn't be disavowed, the house itself was small, only really existing on the upper floors, with the bottom the office, storerooms, prep spaces and all other things required for the profession of he who lived in the house.

I made sure to journey there discreetly not wanting my presence to be witnessed as I rang the bell and lingered, each second felt like hours until ultimately the door was yanked open.

There he stood in black shoes sludgy from their wear, a pair of black trousers well pressed and fitted to his thin body, a faint thin white shirt with his sleeves wadded up to his elbows, a green fabric tie loosely knotted around his neck, a pair of cream and black suspenders over his shoulders, a blue well-worn waistcoat, his hair in its typical fluffy way mostly thrown to one side, His brown eyes looked wide as he opened the door unsure who to be expecting behind it but his lip upturned into a small smile.

"Ohh, Hello Miss Y/l/n this is a nice surprise," He smiled.

"Hello Doctor, Could I come in?"

"Yes of course" he smiled happily let me in and closed the door behind me "To what do I owe the pleasure then?" he asked.

"May we speak... privately?"

"Ohh course, come into the office nice and private in there," he ushered me through to his small office just off the operating room and down from a small store room. He got a cushy chair for me and moved it by the fire with another "There we are, Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No thank you, Doctor," I answered as I took a seat nervously and uncontrollably picked at my nail beds,

"Just Jack you've known me long enough," he chuckled, as he took his chair across from me "Are you alright?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're picking at your cuticles, you haven't made eye contact with me since I opened the door and you look... like you're about to either smack me or start crying." He said, "So? What's going on?"

"Well" I began, as I battled back my tears. "I'm sorry this isn't easy..."

"What's wrong y/n?" He asked, as he tilted forward to gently take my hand in his own.

"I had to come to visit you today, I wish it was under more pleasing circumstances," I explained, tears uncontrollably flooding down my face. "I'm so sorry Jack but I must ask you to keep a secret,"

"Of course,"

"No, I mean it. I'm serious. This must be a secret," I explained.

"Y/n, I promise no matter what you tell me it's a secret, just between us," he said, as he lifted from his chair and fetched me some tissues from his desk before he returned to his seat.

"You promise?"

"I promise. Not a Word of it will pass my lips, not a sound of it will leave this room, I swear I won't tell a soul,"

"I need your help, Jack."

"With what?"

"... I know you, haven't always walked on the Side of lawfulness,"

"hey!" He pouted "My thievery has been very occasional," he corrects playfully.

"I hate to ask, I know it would be a risk for you to do such a thing for me,"

"Well... what is it?"

"I- I'm sorry." I began as I choked up with tears again.

"It's alright, whatever assistance you need I'll be here for you. you just have to tell me what it is,"

My blood ran cold, my words stunted but I knew the time was ticking and I couldn't let these words linger behind my teeth.

"Jack, I'm pregnant."

He froze up, his hand on mine went clammy, and the colour drained from his face for a moment. He moved back to press himself into his chair, he ran a hand through his hair and down his face rubbing on his jaw before he spoke.

"...Okay." He nodded, as he brought his hands together and broke the silence that lingered between us and the fire. "Why would you need my help if you're pregnant?" He asked.

"Why else?" I told him.

"It's not my area of expertise. You should see the midwife-",

"No!" I snapped, "She's a chatterbox you know that. That girl couldn't keep a secret If I stitched her mouth shut,"

"Good point," he chuckled.

"Even so, she wouldn't endorse what I'm doing,"

"Understandable,"

"I don't trust anyone sufficiently with this. Anyone but you Jack,"

"Thanks, I guess," He smiled, "What do you intend to do?"

"I don't have a choice. no one can know, my father will find out and he'll send me away, if not worse. He'll call me a whore and ship me off or worse," I explained, "If anyone in town found out they'd lock me away," I explained "Jack... I can't be pregnant. I need to not be pregnant."

"Okay," he nodded, "This is illegal you know that right?"

"I do. But I don't have a choice."

"if anyone ever found out, we'd both be in a lot of trouble."

"I know," I nodded. "I understand if you can't Jack. I understand if you can't stake your-",

"I'll do it."

"You will?"

"If it's what you want." He nods.

"You don't have to do this for me."

"I want to." he reassured, "I can't endure to see you like this, Can I ask something?"

"Alright,"

"Who's the father?"

That question froze me to my core. "Why do you ask?"

"Don't you think you should tell him?"

"No. No, I can't."

"Does he know you're pregnant?"

"No."

"Do you think it's possible... Just hear me out! maybe if you told him? you think he'd marry you?"

"He might. but I don't want that."

"Why not? you liked him enough to let him-" He began, but all I could do was look at him. "You did let him, didn't you?" he asked and I shook my head as I fought back my tears, he ran his hand over his face "I'm sorry I shouldn't-",

"It's okay," I nodded.

"Come here y/n," He offered.

I got up from the chair and stepped over to his own, he happily took my hand removed my gloves gave my skin a soft kiss and tugged me gently into his lap so I could sit over him my head against his chest as he ran his fingers gently across my frock, his other hand ran his fingers over me removed my hat and gently ran through my hair, every so often he kissed the top of my head.

"I'm so sorry y/n." He whispered, "You don't need to worry, I promise not a soul will know, we'll sort this out as soon as possible," he explained.

"Thank you, Jack."

"It's okay" he cooed, "How long has this been happening?"

"A while now,"

"Okay," he nodded. "Before you go through with this, will you listen to what I have to say?"

"Of course Jack,"

"I know it must all seem frightening now, and like you need to hurry knowing every day this is developing inside you, and I'm sure it must hurt you to even think about this child given its conception and the peril it now poses to you," he explained, "But... we would have to keep this secret until the end of our days, not a soul could ever know if anyone did find out we'd be fortunate to be locked up. Even so, this... procedure isn't straightforward, it carries a grave risk not only of failure, of pain, but of threat to you. If something goes awry, it could kill you," he explained.

"I know that."

"You can't expect me to be alright with conceivably killing you,"

"Isn't that the risk every one of your patients accepts when they decide to lay on the operating table?"

"Well yes but-",

"But what Jack?"

"But... that's not a fate I want for you." he said, "Is there... anyway I can talk you out of this?"

"No,"

"There's no way that deep down he might be an agreeable gentleman?"

"Unquestionably not,"

"Okay, is there any way you could go someplace?"

"I can't,"

"Any suitor boys you could sharply marry before you show?"

"None to mention no,"

"Is there any chance you're going to regret this? And want to keep your baby? Because once I do this that's it. Babies gone forever."

"I'm certain Jack."

"What if..." he began "I married you?"

My heart stopped beating a moment as a panic rushed over me unsure I heard him correctly.

"If you what?"

"What if, I married you?" He asked, "I'm a surgeon so your father would be happy to wed me his daughter, I have a house with plenty of space and not a soul to share it with, I have a decent income so you'd only need to be a housewife, you wouldn't even have to clean the theatre if you didn't want to." He explained, "I feel you and I get along better than I do with most other ladies, in fact, I feel I get along best with you above everyone else in the world. I am happy to keep your secret, you and I can go to your father in a few days. I can ask for your hand and by the end of the month we can be married. Long before you start to show, you can grow the baby to term and I'll be there to hold your hand when the baby comes, and I'll welcome our little one as if they were my own. The world outside these walls and the baby needs never to know any different."

"Jack, you'd truly do that for me?'

"Of course I would,"

"You don't have to do that,"

"I know. I want to" he smiled, kissing my head. "I'd adore to have you as my wife,"

"That's so lovely Jack," I smiled, sitting up a little. "But I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's not fair for you to squander your life marrying me just because of this,"

"Y/n, I wouldn't ask if it was just because of this. Honestly... I've been considering it for some time now just never really got the opportunity to ask you."

"You mean it?"

"I do,"

"I... I can't - I'm sorry Jack." I said, "I'd love to marry you, I really would but I want this procedure, it has to be done,"

"Okay," he nodded "If that's what you want," he said, "After the procedure would you still want to marry me?"

"I would," I blushed "If that is you'd be happy to marry a-"

"Don't you even say that," he warns, "Don't you dare. You're not broken. You're not damaged. You're not some glass bottle y/n you're a woman. I don't care what's happened to you. If you're happy to marry me then I'd be happy to marry you too."

"Really?"

"Really." He nods, "So how about tomorrow morning I come over and speak to your father, ask him for your hand, we can be married by the end of the week and we can go through the procedure then, and I'll take my new wife up to bed once it's over and take care of you until your all better."

"That sounds perfect,"

"And maybe once you're all better we could... start on a little one of our own? Once you're comfortable of course,"

"I'd like that very much, Jack." I smiled and I nuzzled into his chest.

"Perfect. Then it's decided." he smiled and wrapped his arms around me tightly to pull me close into a cuddle "I'll see him first thing tomorrow morning, and as soon as he'll let me I'll make you Mrs y/n Dawkins,"

"Sounds pretty,"

"It suits you" he cooed, kissing my forehead. "So? Will you marry me, sweetheart?"

"I will Jack," I blushed.

"May I kiss my bride-to-be?" he whispered against my hair intertwining his fingers with my own.

"You normally have to wait for the wedding day for that,"

"I'm impatient," he shrugs playfully.

"Well... I suppose," I smiled, sitting up a little and resting my chin on his shirt.

He smiled squeezing my hand so I squeezed back his other hand came and stroked the back of the knuckle of his index finger across the length of my cheekbone ending with a playful bop on my nose before he smiled and leant in capturing my lips in a gentle kiss, he smelt like oak wood, old iron and petrichor, I could taste his earlier tea still lingering in his lips, his skin soft but his lips scarcely cracked from the heat and the sun, I enjoyed our kisses as I'd never enjoyed anything before, his kisses reminded me of sweet summer toffees, of birds cooing in the morning sun, of the sweet embrace of a warm soft bed. I felt comforted, sweetened and protected in a way I haven't felt since I was small.

When we pulled away I couldn't stop my smile as I snuggled back into his chest.

"humm now I have to marry you," he cooed.

"Do you?"

"I think if just a little kiss makes me feel like this, then I must be kissing the girl I should marry," he cooed.

We lay snuggly for a good while until finally, he broke the silence between us.

"Will you tell me? Why do you want to get rid of it so badly?"

"Because of its conception,"

"Understandable. Who's the father?"

"Jack-",

"Please, I promise I won't tell anyone and I'll all be over soon anyway. I just want to know,"

"My Uncle Warren," I answered, nuzzling as deep into his waistcoat as I could.

I felt his skin go cold, his heart slow, and his hands freeze up.

"Warren?" He asked and I nodded, "Your UNCLE!" he yelled and I nodded.

"Please don't be angry with me Jack," I whispered.

"No no no! Y/n sweetheart no I'm not angry at you I promise," he reassured, "I'm sorry but I have to make sure I heard you right," he said picking my face up in his hands and holding us so my nose was against his "Your uncle, Did this to you? Your father's brother, who lives with you, who has lived with you since you were six, did this to you?"

"Yes Jack," I nodded.

"How often does he do this to you?"

"At least twice a week. He'll come up to my room after dark and-" I began to cry.

"sh sh sh it's okay." He reassured, "You know what. I changed my mind. Let's go see your father now," he said as he got up.

"Are you sure Jack?"

"Ohh I'm positive sweetheart," he said as we gathered our things and headed to the door "ohh before I forget," he said as he rushed to the prep room a moment, "Perfect, that'll do," he smirked, as he returned with an impressive knife often used in his surgeries to cut through skin and muscle tissue.

"Jack?" I asked curiously.

"Come on then," he smiled, as he put the knife in his jacket and came to the door.

"Jack, what are you doing?"

"Going to talk to your father, come on," he smiled, as he took my hand as we headed out into the sunset of the evening.

"Jack why are you taking the -"

"We're just going to have a nice little chat." He said, "A nice little chat."

"You're not going to -"

"I just wanna talk to him,"

Finally, we arrived at my door and he knocked and held me close even if I was beyond frightened.

The door opened to my father who instantly saw me.

"There you are, girl! we've been worried sick about you -" he began, "ohh Dr Dawkins? This is a surprise what are you doing here?" he asked as he saw Jack with me perplexed as to why the two of us were together.

"Just popping by, may I come in?" Jack smiled,

"Of course come in, we're in the study," he said, as he ushered us both inside and into the study. I quickly sat on the short sofa by the fire and picked up my embroidery to try and preoccupy myself and keep myself silent as they often requested.

My father went to his small bar tray fixing himself a drink and one for Jack, both of which he set on the table between us all, before he sat on the sofa beside Warren. Jack found his seat on the chair in the centre, he gave me a small smile even if his eyes lingered on my uncle.

"What do we owe the pleasure doctor?" My uncle asked, but he looked at me as he asked,

"Well, I won't bother with pleasantries. Y/n. I want to marry her,"

My uncle spat his drink.

"You what?!" my father asked in shock.

"I wish to marry y/n,"

"Uhh, right? Are you sure?" My father asked, "A handsome, trained, gentleman such as yourself surely you'd be more interested elsewhere?"

"I am interested in her,"

"Well, the surgeon is certainly better than I'd thought she'd do. I was assuming she'd be a spinster or sell her off to the milk boy's son" He explained, "Well you'll be living in your house I presume?"

"Of course,"

"You'll take care of her? Treat her well?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Well, Alright." he shrugged, "So long as you're sure? That's my only rule you can't bring her back," He joked.

"That will not be a concern, sir."

"Alright, well I am pleased to allow this engagement," He smiled, "Congratulations you two,"

"You're alright with the wedding being soon? We don't really want to wait."

"The sooner the better!" My father smiled, "We must celebrate, I'll fetch us some champagne," He smiled and got up from his seat and gave my head a little kiss as he passed and headed out of the study.

"This is good news indeed," My uncle smirked. "Very sudden," he smirked, as he got up and came to loom over me "You really believe you're going to get away from me that easily?"

"I'd step back if I were you," Jack warned him and pressed his knife against Warren's chest and he forced him to move back,

"Why should I? She's my niece,"

"Yeah, and I know what you've been doing to her."

Immediately he looked furious "Whatever she told you, It's a lie."

"Forgive me if I make my own assumptions."

"Fine, I'll back up," he said, as he moved back a little.

"Good. Now I hear that you're anywhere near my fiancé, or that you've done anything to her I'll cut your cock off,"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would." he warned, "And I'm a surgeon. I know how to do it and make sure you survive to suffer,"

"Fine," He said as he returned to his sofa.

Jack smiled and sat beside me as he hid his knife away and gave my cheek a little kiss as my father returned with some champagne.

I was skittish but I knew this had to happen. The last few days have been so busy. Our wedding was so precious even if it was small and brief, I had moved into the house and it very quickly felt like home, Jack had made sure of that. He had made the place cosy for me, often checking in on me to see if I was alright and so far he had been the best husband I could have ever wished for. I strolled through the locked-up house by the glow of my candle, only my cotton nightgown against my skin I had accepted this would be the last time I would likely wear it. I reached the theatre, the stalls were dark and empty, the windows blacked out, and even the door to the prep room bolted and curtained with only the door I walked through left open for me. The chandelier hung above the bed lighting this room enough to see, the table prepared freshly cleaned with a cover over it, and sawdust under the table to aid in cleaning.

The room was utterly silent.

Jack stood in front of his small table, lining items across the table from a Water Basin. The tools all lingered there in the boiling water already freshly cleaned, he took them from the water and dried them with a new cloth before setting them in their place on a covered table. All this was far more covered and more cleanliness than was typical of Jack and his work but I suppose in his mind, It's not every day he operates on his own wife. I stepped In and closed the door behind me, I bolted the lock and turned to give him a grim smile. He smiled back a little more optimistic than my own smile silence still between us in the hope that everything we were to do tonight would be a secret between only us and the ghosts.

He offered his hand so I set my candle down and went over, I took his hand and he softly pressed a kiss there, he stroked my cheekbone and playfully smiled as he gave my nose a little bop and then a kiss before he helped me up onto the table.

"Just relax sweetheart," he reassured, as he adjusted me slightly, "Any discomfort?" he asked,

"I'm very hungry and thirsty," I admit,

"I know sweetheart," he smiled and kissed my forehead, "I'll make you some soup and a nice big glass of juice as soon as we're done I promise," he said as he used the buckle belts on the table to restain my legs and arms even my stomach and for a moment I giggled.

"Ohh Jack, if you were into that sort of thing you should really have told me before we got married,"

"Don't be cheeky Mrs Dawkins Or I'll give you such a spanking," He warned

"You'll be gentle? Won't you?"

"Of course I will," he reassured, "As gentle as I can be." He smiled, "I mean it's in my best interest too, you're my wife."

"I suppose you would be very interested in maintaining that part of me," I blushed.

"Well yes. But I was more thinking, you're my wife. I'm the one that's going to have to deal with you. I cause you too much pain I'll never hear the end of it,"

"No, you won't," I told him.

"Okay, you ready?" he asked.

"I'm ready," I nodded.

"I'll take care of you, I promise," He reassured me as he offered me the little cup that contained the anaesthesia. I happily swallowed it even if it tasted terrible, "There we go, you get some rest sweetheart, I'll take care of you,"

"Thank you, Jack," I smiled. We shared a sweet kiss before I began to drift away falling into a deep sleep.

I woke up and I felt sore, my whole body ached, my body lay in my bed with blankets and pillows, and everything hurt but it was a pain I knew well as it reminded me so much of my monthly pains.

"Sweetheart, Hey? Are you feeling okay?" Jack asked as he came through into the bedroom with some soup and juice that he sat by the table

"Everything hurts," I answered.

"It will do," He smiled, sitting beside me and giving my forehead a little kiss, "but it's all done. Nothing to worry about any more,"

"It's gone?"

"Gone. Now I'm going to be taking care of you until you're all better," he smiled, "You need to rest, take it easy, be gentle with yourself, No baths you're going to have to shower I'm more than happy to help with that," he winked, "And two, maybe three weeks you'll be good as new,"

"thank you, Jack,"

"You're welcome, Go on have your soup you need anything at all just call alright I'll be in the office" He explained, he gave me a sweet kiss before he went to head out of the bedroom.

"Jack?"

"Yeah y/n?"

"I love you," I giggled.

"Love you too sweetheart" He cooed as he blew me a kiss and headed down to his office.

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