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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months ago

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It's not like I'm falling in love, I just want ya to do me no good (and you look like you could) (18+)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

Ewan Mitchell isn't one for parties, but for you? He'd make an exception. Surrounded by stars at the GQ party, his revered muse on the big screen becomes a twisted angel in his arms��leaving him seeing stars again as he finds bliss within your warmth.

word count: 6.7k

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Ewan thought he could keep up the celebrity facade, just for the night at least, but the ceaseless barrage of mingling is starting to get to him.

The boo hurled at him right outside the establishment still echoes in his ears. Maybe it wasn't even about him, but his annoyance had been triggered. He decides that it all has gotten to him. What a load of bull.

He had been on the fence about being tapped as an honouree of a lifestyle magazine. Like it means anything. What does this have to do with being an actor? How is this supposed to help his craft? He might as well have been tapped to do one of those videos where he shows everyone what's in his bag.

"It's exposure," his team had chirped in unison, practically reading from a PR handbook.

This wasn't the industry he'd envisioned when he first fell in love with the craft. But none of this is about craft. It's all publicity fodder, all noise.

What he really wants—what his entire being craves—is a BAFTA, a Golden Globe, a SAG award. Hell, he would trade every glitzy dinner party invite for the faintest whiff of Oscar buzz. That was the dream.

Instead, here he is, tethered to a seat at one of four long tables, littered with stars of every calibre—from industry titans to the disposable nobodies who would be forgotten by this time next month.

He had been encouraged to make connections. Socialize. He translated this as a polite way of being told to suck up to people. Maybe a casting director would remember him. Maybe some producer would pass his name along. Easy.

Flattery will get you everywhere in this business.

But at any given time, he would much rather suck on a bloody spliff.

Leaning over to Davey, he says, "I might sneak out for a smoke or something. That's fine, right?"

Davey snickers, sensing Ewan's agitation. "Oh, if you're asking me, I say do whatever you want, mate."

But then someone from his team, straight-laced, precious Lindsay, lets him know otherwise. "Ewan, I'd advise you to sit still for now. What if they call you up some time during dinner?"

Ewan doubles down, his leg anxiously shaking under the table. "Are they going to call on me?"

Lindsay balks. She hasn't heard Ewan sound this pressed before. "Well, we weren't told but—"

"Then I can go. They wouldn't care."

"Ewan, just—"

"Sorry, Lind, but I gotta take a breather. This is all just—"

Lindsay waves him off, resigned. Ewan has always been an easy client to manage, so she can't bring herself to begrudge him this. "Fine, whatever. Just make sure to hide the cigarette if the photographer shows up."

"Sure," he mutters, not meaning it in the slightest. Nobody would care if he is spotted smoking. They should be grateful he is not among the deviants doing lines in the bathroom.

He abruptly gets up from his seat, and backs right into... you.

Of all people. Ewan feels the blood drain from his face, his breath hitching as disbelief engulfs him. His hand instinctively rises, brushing against the silken warmth of flawless skin exposed by your backless dress. The contact sends a jolt through him, and for a moment, he's certain he might pass out. You—right here, in the flesh.

You flash him a dazzling, effortless smile and murmur, "Oops, excuse me," your voice a melodic tease that leaves him utterly undone.

"Oh, no... no problem." He stammers, fully aware that he should be the one begging pardon.

You hold his gaze, ensnaring him so effortlessly. He realises how stupid he must look, with his mouth parted and his eyes wide. He should say his name. He should introduce himself, goddamnit.

But the moment shatters when someone calls your name. You step away without hesitation, and Ewan feels the loss acutely, like an unhooked fish left gasping on dry land.

Then it comes. That fucking sound.

The high-pitched squeal you let out is sharp, almost grating, but somehow it still strikes him as endearing. He'd probably hate it if it didn't come from you.

"Hi! Oh my god, how are you? I haven't seen you since our ski trip in Courmayeur!" Your voice carries, your excitement encroaching his space like an air of warmth.

Ewan follows your trajectory, his eyes trailing as you glide over to Eve Hewson. The two of you embrace like old friends, giggling like co-conspirators, your champagne glasses clinking softly.

He nearly rolls his eyes but catches himself. He knows he's being ridiculous, standing there like a sulking idiot, but the irritation bites anyway. He wants to blame the squeal, or the scene you're making, or the way you seem so goddamn comfortable in this world of chatter and pomp.

But that's not quite it.

He knows the truth, and it gnaws at him like a persistent itch he can't scratch. He's annoyed because he wanted you—your dazzling smile, your undivided attention—to be aimed at him.

He forces his feet to move, making his way down the side hall, where the din of the party fades into muffled chaos. He needs a breather, a moment to reset, but even here, your presence clings to him like static.

It's maddening.

Ewan has spent years watching you. On screens, in interviews, on magazine covers. You're like an open book he's memorised, every detail imprinted on his mind.

That birthmark beneath your right shoulder blade, briefly exposed in that love scene with Glen Powell. He remembers it, even though the camera barely lingered. The way your laugh bursts out unguarded, lighting up every corner of a room.

In one interview, you mentioned Meisner as your go-to technique, and it stuck with him. Of course you'd say Meisner, he thought at the time, like you were someone close to him, because you're all about connection, about living truthfully in the moment.

And here you are, in the same place as him, vibrant and ever so magnetic. Princess of every party, muse of the silver screen.

But you don't know him.

You didn't think you would be attending the British GQ party, but one of your Londoner friends happened to be throwing their birthday bash the night before, so you thought—why the hell not?

You were, of course, invited. Originally, the invite had been for the American GQ Men of the Year party the week prior, but filming schedules had other ideas. For the past two months, you'd been stranded in the icy landscapes of Winnipeg, immersed in the demanding shoot of David Lowery's latest thriller.

Grueling days and endless takes had left you with little energy for glamour. But now, with a few weeks off and the American crew taking a well-earned Thanksgiving break, you finally have some breathing room.

The London event seems like a perfect way to ease back into the whirlwind. And it doesn't disappoint.

The Roof Gardens is buzzing, the atmosphere heavy with the scent of expensive perfume and free-flowing champagne. You glide through it like you belong—because you do. Years of this kind of schmoozing have taught you how to navigate these waters. A charming smile here, a fleeting hug there, a bit of banter with a photographer who asks for the best angle.

You find yourself talking to your old castmate Eve Hewson near the bar, the two of you imbibing something bubbly and dry. She looks luminous as always, her dark hair framing her sharp, mischievous grin.

"Winnipeg, though?" Eve says, her tone incredulous as she leans in. "What the hell is Lowery making you do out there? Freeze to death for art?"

"Pretty much," you laugh, savouring the chill of your drink. "But it's worth it, trust me. The script is absolutely incredible. I just wish the weather wasn't trying to kill me."

"Classic Lowery. He probably thinks the suffering adds authenticity or some shit."

"Probably," you agree, rolling your eyes. For some reason, you find yourself circling back to an earlier incident.

"By the way," you say, leaning a little closer to Eve, "do you know who that guy was? The one I bumped into earlier?"

"Which guy?"

"Clip-on earring. Tall, kind of broody-looking in an overcoat? Wasn't talking much, just sort of... cruising awkwardly."

Eve shrugs, clearly drawing a blank. "I have no idea. Was he hot?"

It only takes you a second to consider this. "I mean, sure. In a tortured artist kind of way. Poor schmuck looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here."

"Oh!" Eve says, snapping her fingers. "Wait, he might be one of the honourees."

You arch a brow. "Not a goddamn influencer, right?"

Eve shakes her head. "No, don't worry. I think he's in that Game of Thrones spinoff. What's it called? House of Dragons?"

"Never saw it." You didn't have the time, truth be told. Also, the last seasons of its predecessor had been enough to edge it off your watchlist.

She taps her chin, thinking. "Wait... oh! Wasn't he that nerd in the movie with Jacob and Barry? Saltburn!"

"Oh my god. That's him? He did great in that role."

"Right? I could not have pointed him out. Kind of a chameleon, I guess."

"Guess so," you agree, the curiosity lingering.

The night unfolds exactly as expected. You exchange quips with Harris Dickinson, who flirts with you just enough to keep things interesting. You catch up with Nicole Kidman, who had been somewhat of a mentor to you when you acted alongside her in your third film at just 16. Jude Law joins your circle at one point, his charm as effortless as ever, and for a while, it feels like just another night on the circuit.

By the time you step outside into the crisp evening air, you're craving a bit of quiet. The gardens around the pavilion are softly lit, the gentle glow of fairy light casting long shadows over the manicured hedges. You pull your vape from your Loewe clutch, taking a long drag as you lean against a cold marble railing.

That's when you notice him again.

He's standing a few feet away, partially obscured by a stone pillar, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The faint smell of tobacco taints the pristine air, and you catch the same restless energy he had earlier.

You wander closer, the soft click of your heels against the stone catching his attention. He glances up, startled, as if he hadn't expected anyone else to venture out here.

"Hey," you say casually, holding your vape up as you stop beside him. "Can you hold this for a sec?"

Before he can respond, you hand him your purse, crouching slightly to tighten the strap on your heel.

He freezes, staring at the outstretched object. "Uh... sure," he relents, albeit hesitantly.

You straighten after a minute, taking the purse back with a quick "Thanks," and give him a once-over. Up close, he's sharper, more distinct. There's something remarkably intense about him that wasn't obvious before.

"I'm Ewan... Mitchell," he blurts, his words a little rushed.

You smile, tilting your head. "Nice to meet you, Ewan."

He fumbles for a response, his cigarette dangling precariously from his fingers. "I, uh, think we bumped into each other earlier. Inside."

"Yeah," you say lightly, your lips curving into a faint smirk. "I like your outfit, by the way. Very vampiric. Dior, right?"

He blinks, then chuckles softly, almost self-deprecatingly. "Yeah. Thanks. I like you too... I mean, I like... I like your dress, too."

You laugh at the accidental remark. There's something undeniably charming about him, despite his nervousness. "Why, thank you, Ewan."

The blush that creeps on his cheeks shows through the powder. He must have felt it, because he immediately trained his gaze down to his polished shoes.

Cute. So you make it your mission to break through his shell. These events tend to get repetitive after a while, but maybe tonight will be a lovely exception.

And so the game begins.

The two of you peacefully take hits of your respective choices of poison, your bubblegum-flavoured vapour melding in the air with his Marlboro red.

"You're quiet," you point out the obvious eventually, a teasing grin playing at your lips.

He almost laughs at the understatement but only shrugs. "Not much to say, I suppose."

"Oh, I doubt that." You lean against the balustrade, studying him. Ewan feels his pulse quicken under the weight of it.

You're so at ease. It's infuriatingly attractive. Your disarming allure, your grace in this world of make-believe, only deepens his self-consciousness. He knows what he must look like: an odd man out, fumbling at the edges of fame while you shine at the centre of it all.

He exhales shakily and finally replies, "Don't let me bore you."

"You're not boring me," you reassure him, before playfully adding, "Not yet at least."

There's a flicker of something unclear behind your eyes when you move closer and ask, "So what are you thinking?"

What he's thinking is that he's out of his depth, that he hasn't felt this kind of raw attraction in years—if ever. He's thinking you're the kind of woman who doesn't even have to command attention, and he's already hopelessly drawn in. But what he says is, "Just... wondering how I got here."

Your laugh is soft, rich with amusement. "To this party?"

"Or this moment."

His words surprise him, his ears burning as they register. You don't say anything, causing Ewan's nerves to spike. Did he sound too eager? Too pathetic?

But then, you smile. That damned megawatt smile that looks even better in person than on screen. "Well, it's a good place to be, isn't it?"

You lean a fraction closer, and could swear his heart is about to burst out of his chest.

"Do you always look so serious?" you ask, your gaze flicking to his lips, admiring the way they seem to be in a state of being perpetually curled. "Or is it just the brooding artist thing?"

"I'll take it if it works," he manages, his voice uneven.

"Oh, it's working," you say softly.

Ewan shifts his weight, tapping the cigarette against the edge of the balustrade. "Sorry, I just... I don't get it. These things. Everyone pretending they know everyone, like it's all some bloody performance."

You exhale a stream of vapour, watching it swirl into the night. He's finally opening up, and there is no way you're letting this slide. "It is a performance," you reply. "That's the point."

He shakes his head, gazing at you with a genuine softness you haven't been at the receiving end of in far too long. "But why? Why not just let the work speak for itself?"

There's something innocent in the way he says it, and it's endearing and definitely rare among your crowd. Ewan Mitchell isn't like the men you usually find at these industry events. He's no preening peacock, no walking cologne ad praying to be noticed.

There's something boyish in the way he fidgets, and yet also something undeniably grown in the way his eyes linger on you when he thinks you're not looking.

You reply, "It's so people know who you are. Why would anyone want to go see your movie if they don't give a shit about you?"

"You see, darling, that's where talent comes into play."

"Hmm, okay. But do you not know how many thousands upon thousands of aspiring actors come to LA every year just to witness the death of their dreams, because nobody gave a shit about who they are? And I'm certain that a lot of them can outact us under the table."

Ewan takes a slow drag from his cigarette, buying himself time. The way you said "us" sends a thrill through him he's desperately trying to smother. "Well," he begins, "if you're talented enough, you'll eventually catch a break. People notice, don't they?"

"Talent isn't everything," you point out. "You need to have drive."

"That I have," he counters quickly, his voice laced with quiet conviction. He wouldn't have been able to climb out of a life of near-guaranteed anonymity in Derbyshire if he didn't possess drive. There's a confidence in him now, a spark you seem to notice, judging by the faint curve of your lips.

"And charisma," you add, your smile widening, "which, clearly, you also have."

"Thank you," he says on instinct. There's a pause, just long enough for him to wonder if he's again blushing under your watchful gaze.

"And," you continue, dragging the word out with deliberate weight, "in this day and age, you need to get people talking."

Ewan exhales, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "How do I do that, superstar?"

"A big, fat scandal usually does the trick." Your voice is casual, but your eyes gleam with mischief.

"Oh, brilliant," he deadpans. His sarcasm earns him another laugh, and he feels it in his chest like a warm shockwave.

"Or... you could date someone famous. Get on the PR train."

Ewan shakes his head, his brow furrowing. "Not for me, I think."

You drift closer, eyes narrowing slightly as if you're sizing him up. "Oh really? You wouldn't get with me if you had the chance?"

The question lands like a lit match in the conversation. He swallows nervously, "Of... of course I would. But I don't want it to be manufactured."

"How would it go then?" There's no mocking in your question, no cruelty in your smile—just curiosity, maybe a touch of challenge.

He falters, betraying the battle waging between his nerves and his growing comfort in your company. "How would what go?"

"How would you, Ewan Mitchell, get me?"

His throat goes dry. He considers dodging it, turning the conversation back to you with one of the rehearsed quips he uses for interviews. But that feels cheap in the face of your boldness, so unabashed and expectant. "Well, I'd ask you on a date."

"And I'd say yes... go on."

"And we'll go to... the cinema," he says simply, and for the first time tonight, he doesn't feel like treading water.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, you're such a purist."

"What's wrong with that?" he asks, a touch defensive but also playful, emboldened by your attention.

"Nothing, you tortured artist, you," you tease, your tone lilting. "And then what?"

"Then... we could grab dinner or—"

"Would you kiss me?" you interrupt, your voice low and threaded with something heavier. Most would hesitate, worrying they'd gone too far, but you're not like most people. You never have been.

"If you... if you wanted me to," he replies, his own voice rough with honesty.

"But would you want to?"

His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest of moments before snapping back to your eyes. The words spill out of him. "I'd be a fucking idiot not to want to kiss you, darling."

Back in the pavilion, music from the DJ booth intensifies, signalling the post-dinner stage of the festivities. But the booming bass that reverberates is nothing compared to the beating of your hearts.

"On this hypothetical date... do we take it a step further?"

Ewan's thoughts run wild, and they are betrayed by the way his pupils dilate. "What do you mean?"

"I am talking about hooking up." Your words are relaxed, but the way you say them is anything but. They drip with intention, with heat, as if you're privy to the fact that he has pictured that scenario a hundred times over.

"What do you take me for?"

"A warm-blooded man who's clearly attracted to me... and who I'm also attracted to."

"You like me?" he whispers hoarsely.

Instead of answering, you close the distance, your lips brushing featherlight against his. The tentative touch sets him ablaze. When you press harder, surer, he melts into you. His hands tremble as they come up to your waist, anchoring himself in the reality of you.

"Fuck me," he breathes when you pull back, leaving him dazed. "I can't—"

"Do this?" you ask, your lips hovering over his, pulling at the fringes of his restraint.

"No... I mean, I can't believe I'm kissing you." He stumbles over his words, clearly in awe. "I love you."

It's your turn to be taken aback. "Woah, what?"

"I mean, I've loved your work," he stammers. "You inspire me as an actor, you know. I've watched you since your early days. You're fucking amazing."

"Mmm." When he allows his hand to drift along your spine, you ask, "Have you ever... fantasized about... sleeping with me?"

"I... I don't—"

"I'm used to it. Being looked at. Thought of, in that way." There's a tinge of raw sensitivity in your admission, letting him see the real you.

Ewan wants more of it. After just a taste of who you are underneath the surface, he is left craving the rest. "Then I think you know my answer," he says.

You let out a low hum. "I know."

"You're such a goddamn liability," he murmurs, managing to sound equal parts affectionate and exasperated.

"I know that too. Come with me," you say, your tone suddenly commanding. You grab his hand, lacing your fingers through his, and tug him towards the pavilion. He follows without a shred of hesitation, his heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of his chest.

The two of you weave through the edges of the party, slipping past clusters of inebriated guests until you find yourself in the dimly lit, unattended coatroom. The small space is as luxurious as the rest of the venue, the perfect backdrop for the tension threatening to explode.

The moment the lock on the door clicks shut, Ewan's restraint snaps like a taut wire. His hands cradle your face as he initiates the kiss this time, his hunger for you bleeding through every press of his lips.

The rest of the party fades away, and there is only you. He didn't care about any of it anyway.

"You are so fucking hot," he groans into the kiss. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Believe it, handsome," you purr, sliding your hands down the material of his coat.

"Are you sure about this?" His question comes out as a whisper, his forehead resting against yours, his cigarette-scented breath fanning your face.

"Ewan," you say, "get on with it before they all notice we've been gone too long."

He huffs out a nervous laugh. "The way you talk makes me think you wouldn't give a shit."

"No, I wouldn't," you confirm, your grin wicked. "They should fucking wait for us."

"You have an attitude, princess," he mutters, his fingers digging into your exposed back.

"Been told I have a big head," you joke.

He hums, before dropping a line that floors you. "Bet you have a sweet pussy, too."

Your eyes flash with amusement, drawing closer until your lips graze his Dior earring. "Wanna find out?"

"Fuckin' hell," his breath shudders out of him, "yes... yes... yes." He knew it might make him come across as desperate, as a damn simp, but he could not bring himself to give a single flying fuck. Not when you perch atop the gleaming marble edge of the table, and spread each leg out to the side, tantalisingly slow. A precious flower to be plucked, right there for the taking.

For him. He feels unworthy. He has half a mind to check the room for cameras—maybe this is all a prank. But what a lascivious, cruel prank that would be.

Is this some twisted initiation ritual into the Hollywood elite?

You trail a smooth, manicured finger along his jawline, igniting a shiver that ripples down his spine. His nerves come alive under your touch, each one crackling with electric anticipation, flipping a switch deep within him directly connected to his cock.

As he has revered you as a goddess on the silver screen all these years, he now reveres you in reality, sinking to his knees.

"Don't keep me waiting," you whisper silkily.

Ewan takes a steadying breath, before diving in. His hands lift the smooth material of your dress, revealing the sacred area between your legs, barely covered in a white sliver of a thong. You might as well have come with no underwear.

The coat suddenly feels too constricting, so he unbuttons it with a sharp motion, letting the heavy garment slide to the floor. But almost immediately, a flicker of concern crosses his face. The Dior number is a rental, and if it gets damaged, it won't be his head on the block—it'll be Davey's. With a hint of sheepishness, he retrieves it, carefully draping it over the back of an upholstered chair.

You notice the gesture, subtle but telling. He doesn’t quite belong to your world—or perhaps he does, but he moves through it without succumbing to its superficial trappings. Your friend Timothée wouldn’t have spared the coat a second glance, long since desensitized to the weight of designer labels.

But Ewan? He handles it all with a kind of quiet reverence, as if even in a borrowed piece of luxury, he remains grounded in something real.

And it only intensifies your desire for him.

There's a wanton intrigue in your eyes as you take in the bareness of his torso. His muscles are defined, but not in the off-putting gym rat kind of way. Instead, there's a natural leanness to his form—a testament to a body honed not for vanity, but for purpose.

Kneeling before you, eyes bright with awe, he gets right down to work. He pushes the fabric of your dress higher, out of his way, and you help him along, your fist bunching the skirt to one side.

"God, you're... perfect," he whispers. His palms rest on your thighs, and when his lips press to the sensitive skin just above your knee, you let out an involuntary sound that draws a low groan from his throat.

"Ewan," you breathe impatiently, unable to conceal your need for him. But he doesn't rush, dragging his mouth higher, trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he savours the sensation.

He pauses just before pulling down the waistband of your thong, glancing up at you with wide, darkened eyes. "Tell me if I'm... if I'm doing too much," he says, almost shyly.

"You're not doing enough," you reply. "Keep going."

So he does. He slides the white lace down your ankles, then presses his mouth to your core, his tongue pushing between your folds with a fervour that makes your head fall back. His guttural moan is muffled as he goes down on you, the vibration of it causing heat to pool in your lower belly. You press the flat stem of your heel to the back of his head, drawing him closer.

"Fuck, Ewan," you gasp aloud, your hips rolling instinctively against his mouth as he works you over. He licks you, sloppy and desperate, his inexperience showing but somehow making it even better. He's so determined to give you pleasure, so eager to make you come undone, that he doesn't care about anything else.

He doesn't care about acting like a starved animal as he sucks on your pussy. All Ewan wishes for, in that very moment, is that you cum all over him—the sweet substance flooding his tongue, dripping down his chin, far more sumptuous than everything they have on offer in the party's banquet.

He's seen you fake an orgasm for a scene before, but this is real.

His tongue flicks over your bud, and when you cry out, he doubles his efforts. He wraps his lips around the aching nub to suck gently, then slides a finger into you, curling it just right. Adding another, he increases the pace, his fingertips pulsing into that damned spot within your walls each time.

The defined bridge of his nose is flush against your clit as he moves, augmenting your pleasure. The whole thing is messy, unrefined, and so damn good that it has you teetering on the edge in no time.

Your thighs quiver around his head, and when your orgasm crashes over you, you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. Ewan keeps going, his tongue and fingers refusing to let up, coaxing every last shudder from you until you're trembling and gasping for air.

"Holy. Shit." You lean back on your elbows to recuperate as white spots flood your vision.

"Did I... was that... was that good?" he asks with his lips shiny and swollen, practically yearning for your approval.

"Yeah," you manage, but it escapes your lips as a small, incoherent sigh.

"Hmm? What? What was that... baby?"

Baby, he says. But with the way, he's being so sweet, so dumbstruck, he's certainly the baby in this dynamic.

"More," you give him a better answer, "C'mere." You pull him up to your level, tasting yourself on his lips. Leveraging your legs around his waist, you keep him caged in. The outline of his hardened cock presses against your pelvis, and when you grind into him, his teeth clamp down on your bottom lip.

"Aghhh, hey!"

"Shit, I'm sorry—"

"It's okay," you whisper, not letting him pull away. "I liked it. And I want more."

"Anything, baby," he promises, and the raw honesty in his tone makes your chest tighten. "Anything you want. I'll—fuck—I'll give it to you. I'm all yours."

You nod once, before he claims your lips again in a bruising kiss. One of the thin straps of your dress falls from your shoulder, and he visibly shivers in excitement at the sight of your exposed breast.

"Fuck," he sighs, his hand coming up almost hesitantly to cup you. His thumb brushes over your nipple, as he takes you in with lust-clouded eyes. He leans down and captures the flesh with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your tender peak until you're left squirming.

You reach for him, fumbling with his belt and his zipper, and he helps you, his movements even more hurried and uncoordinated than yours.

When he frees himself, you can't help but stare—his cock is long and hard, already slick with precum. The sight makes your mouth water, and when you drag your gaze back up to his face, you find him watching you, his expression somewhere between bashful and utterly wrecked.

Ewan's hair, once gelled to immaculate perfection, now lies in disarray. He'll need to borrow your comb before he dares rejoin the party. The lower half of his face bears the unmistakable traces of cum and smudged rouge, a vivid testament to the chaotic indulgences of the evening. And somewhere in the frenzy of fumbling and fondling, his clip-on Dior earring has gone astray. He feels the absence keenly, like a phantom limb, yet he resigns himself to the loss—for now, it's a dilemma best left for another moment.

"You're staring," he says, an uneasy laugh escaping him, but there's heat in his gaze, a newfound confidence grounding his nerves.

"Because I like what I see," you reply.

"Tell me if this is too much," he says, his anxiety resurfacing through the haze of lust. It's endearing—so much so that you can't help but smile.

"Ewan," you say firmly. "I want everything."

He groans faintly as he lines himself up. Carefully, he pushes into you, and the stretch is exquisite, sending a shiver rippling up your spine. You both moan, the sound echoing in the quiet of the room. He buries himself to the hilt, pausing to catch his breath, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Fuck, oh fuck," he murmurs, looking down at where your bodies meet. "Your pussy feels so good."

The compliment makes you feel something you can't pinpoint, but there’s no time to dwell on it. He starts to move, his thrusts tentative at first, testing the waters. But the whorish mewls spilling from your lips spur him on, and soon, he finds a rhythm—deep, steady, and just rough enough to leave you begging for more.

"Fuck, Ewan," you gasp, your nails scraping lightly against his back. "Yeah... just like that."

Your words are the only encouragement he needs. His pace quickens, and his grip on you tightens as if he's about to confess that he wants to own you. He's already yours, so it's only fair, isn't it?

He's spent years fantasizing about how your pussy would feel, squeezing his cock like a goddamn vice, and he's happy to find out that his imagination is nothing compared to the real thing.

"So sexy, baby," he mutters, his voice muffled as he nips at your neck. "Better than I ever—" He cuts himself off with a groan, his teeth grazing your skin.

You raise your legs higher up his torso to draw him deeper. The angle sends a bolt of pleasure through you, and your moans grow louder despite your attempts to keep quiet.

Then, suddenly, the doorknob rattles.

Both of you freeze, Ewan still buried deep inside your fleshy walls, his eyes wide with panic. The sound of a familiar voice seeps through the door, followed by a frustrated sigh.

"Where the hell did I leave my phone?" It's your friend, Florence Pugh. Her voice is unmistakable, and the realisation makes your stomach drop.

Ewan’s lips form a silent oh my God. You bite back a laugh, pressing a hand over your mouth as Florence jiggles the doorknob again.

"Seriously?" she mutters. "Locked? For fuck's sake."

You hear her footsteps retreat, her voice fading as she calls out to someone else. "Have you seen my phone? I swear I left it out here."

The moment the coast is clear, you both exhale in unison, the tension breaking into a mix of laughter and relief. Ewan drops his forehead to your shoulder, shaking his head. "This is insane," he whispers, though he doesn't feel a single ounce of regret.

"You're the one who couldn't keep it in his pants," you tease, rolling your hips slightly to remind him of your still-connected bodies.

His response is a low growl, and he resumes his thrusts, harder this time, filled with unfiltered desire. The near-miss only seems to have fueled him, the snap of his hips more frantic, more intense. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room—mumbled curses, breathless moans, sticky slapping of flesh meeting flesh.

"God, you're incredible," he says, his voice strained. "I can't get enough of you."

You feel the coil in your belly tightening again, the pressure building with each thrust. Your delicate fingers dig into his shoulders, and he groans at the sensation, his cock twitching deep inside you. His rhythm falters for only a second before he recovers.

"Ewan," you gasp, your voice breaking. "I'm so close—don't stop."

"Come for me, baby," he says, his hand slipping between your bodies to find your clit. It sends you spiraling, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cry out, your body tensing and shuddering beneath him as he continues to move, chasing his own release.

He reaches up and twists your nipple, the sharp sensation making you gasp just before he comes. The sight of you—head thrown back, breast bouncing free from your designer gown, your smudged red lips parted in bliss—drives him to the brink. With a strangled growl, he slams into you one final time. His body shakes as he spills inside you, the warmth of his release flooding you completely. You both tremble in the aftermath, caught in the intensity of the moment, gasping for air, drenched in sweat and tangled in raw desire.

You blink lazily at him, a beautiful mess of tousled hair and make-up in dire need of a retouch. "Still think I'm a liability?" you ask.

"Oh, absolutely. But one worth keeping anyway."

Ewan sits in his dimly lit London apartment, the glow of his phone the only other source of light in the room. A half-empty bottle of Guinness sits forgotten on his coffee table. The screen displays your Instagram profile—your impossibly gorgeous face beaming at him from your latest post, which happens to be a professional photograph of you at the GQ party.

His finger hovers above the Follow button like it's the trigger of a detonator.

His newly-created account is laughably barren—no posts, no followers, no following. Just a desperate, last-ditch attempt to tether himself back to you, even if only digitally.

Ewan had always sworn off social media, claiming it wasn't his style, that he preferred the privacy and the mystique. Yet, here he is, spiraling, drunk on the memory of you and of that night.

The coatroom had been a blur. The attendant had returned far too soon, a flurry of apologies as Florence appeared behind her, claiming her phone from her coat pocket with a triumphant smirk.

Ewan remembers how Florence had tugged you aside, your laughter ringing out as she swiped her thumb across your lips, erasing the evidence of that kiss—or maybe just rearranging it. You had been whisked away to the ladies' room, leaving him standing there, disheveled, speechless, and utterly entranced. He hadn't even managed to get your number.

It's been days since, but he still feels the ghost of your touch, the echo of your moans, the scent of you on his skin. He's tried to focus, tried to pick up his scripts, but his mind keeps replaying the way you looked as you came.

He has even rewatched a film of yours, with special attention paid to a particular love scene. Watching it over and over, repeatedly going back to the timestamp where you're seen riding your male costar.

He felt aroused watching you. Also, incredibly fucking jealous.

"Pathetic," he mutters to himself, his finger still hovering. His thumb twitches, brushing the screen, but before he can commit to his descent into full-blown thirst, his phone buzzes violently, the vibration startling him into dropping it onto the couch.

"Shit." He snatches it back up, squinting at the screen. It's a call from his agent.

"Ewan," comes the voice on the other end, crisp and faintly incredulous. "What the hell did you do at that party?"

His heart stops for a beat. "Uh... what?"

"The party. The GQ one. The one where you disappeared for, what, an hour? Maybe more?"

Ewan's brain scrambles. "I don't—I mean, I just mingled. Like you suggested,” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly. "Why?"

"Because," the agent says, drawing out the word like it's a prize reveal, "you've been shortlisted for a chemistry test next week."

"A chemistry test?" Ewan echoes, blinking. "For what?"

"For her film," his agent says, emphasizing the pronoun like it's blasphemous not to know who you are. "It's one of those secret big-budget Hollywood projects only top actors are getting called for. We didn't submit you because—well, not to be rude, but you're not exactly on their radar for that level yet."

Ewan's heart starts pounding. He sits up straighter, gripping the phone tighter. "Wait, wait. What film? Who's—who's her?"

But he already knows the answer.

His agent drops your name, exasperated now. "Apparently she petitioned for you, Ewan. Said you'd be perfect. So what did you do?”

Ewan is stunned into silence. He leans back against the couch, a slow grin spreading across his face as the pieces click into place. You. You'd done this. You’d reached out and used your pull to bring him into your orbit again.

"What did I do?" he repeats. "Oh, nothing much. Just... made an impression."

"Well, whatever it was, it worked. Chemistry tests are next week in L.A. They'll send over the details. And Ewan," the agent pauses, lowering their voice slightly, "don't screw this up. This is huge."

"I won't," Ewan says, his tone confident now. "I promise."

When the call ends, he stares at his phone for a long moment, the grin still lingering. He glances back at your Instagram profile, his thumb poised over the Follow button again. Then he snorts, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside him.

"What's the point?” he mutters to himself, his grin turning into a full-on self-satisfied smirk. "I'll see you soon enough."

He reaches for the bottle of Guinness instead, lifting it in a silent toast to fate—or whatever it is that's tied you two together.

Something came out of all that mingling after all.

taglist: @bitchception @insideyourimagination @angels-wouldnt-help-youu @seamaiden @silverdragonfly @powpowjinxlife @starfishjellyfish5 @shellysa14 @delespresso @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @ninihrtss @believeinthefireflies95 @peachysunrize @darktrashsoulbear

#do me no good #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell smut #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd

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itsjennygirlz · 6 months ago

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Here's the second part of a Story I wrote for another caption, you can have look here:

https://www.tumblr.com/itsjennygirlz/754945217832042496/since-you-always-had-a-crush-on-lindsay-the-girl?source=share

Since you Sissy Girlz wanted to know what's next here's part 2:

Mary was standing at your door, she seemed so excited!

"Come on Sis, show me how you put on that cute bikini Lindsay and I bought you".

You were so confused, and scared, as you stayed speechless, Mary said "If you don't do what I say, I'll told Lindsay you have a crush on her, would you want that to happen Jane ?". You took a minute to get your head clear, if Lindsay knows about you, you won't have a chance...So you took the bikini from the bag and started to put it on. "Let me help you Sissy" Mary helped you to put on the top. "Now a little bit of make-up !" She grabbed her make-up kit, and started to put some mascara on your eyes "Don't worry honey it's waterproof! Now which lipstick would you like to wear ?". Before that moment, you never thought you've ever had to answer that question. As you take a look at different options, you see the bright pink one and think how ridiculous you'll look with this lipstick on. Of course that's the moment Mary chose to decide for you "Seems like you've felt in love with one didn't you ? Good choice Sis you'll look so girly". She forced the pink one on your lips, you've hated yourself for that, but you've kinda enjoyed the sensation.

And then she took a step back to take a good look at you.

"Omg Jane you look, amaaaaazing ! We could barely say you're not a girl". That last part hit you pretty hard, mainly because Mary was right. As you took a look at yourself in the mirror you were so shocked to see how Mary made you look like an hot teenage girl.

As you were looking at yourself you've heard Mary giggling. "I can't believe, my brother is a real Sissy" At that moment you've realize you're having an erection. You immediately start to blush. "Don't worry Jane, it's perfectly normal for Sissy like you to be exited for your first bikini afternoon with the Girls! I'm pretty sure Lindsay and Sarah will figure out how to make your little clitty stop bothering us. But we'll see that later...."

*Ding-dong*

"Oh that's probably Lindsay and Sarah ! Perfect timing, now let's go to the swimming pool !!! Come on in Girls, let me introduce you to my new little sister"

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kk095 · 6 months ago

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Life and Death in the ER: Dr Lindsay

*Good evening everyone, I hope all is well. I greatly appreciate all the positive feedback on my last story Alexa's Arrhythmia! I'd like to try something a little different with the story you're about to read. Although it may not be everyone's cup of tea, I think it's a great opportunity for you guys to get to know some of our go-to characters a little better. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!*

Aside from medicine, Dr Lindsay’s passion in life is running. The cute, sporty tomboy doctor we all know and love was a college track star at the D1 college she attended once upon a time ago. Believe it or not, Lindsay had legitimate Olympic aspirations, and at one point in time, she was set to qualify for the United States women’s track team. But fate had other plans, which came in the form of a sudden, severe ACL and LCL tear in her left knee. Reconstructive surgery was performed and she of course recovered, but Lindsay definitely lost her X factor. Even though Lindsay could still run circles around 99% of humanity as a 33 year old with a bum knee, she lost that slight edge all those years ago, which is all it took for her Olympic hopes and dreams to go up in smoke. Sometimes Lindsay thought “what if?” in regards to her potential professional sports career, but at the same time, being an ER physician fulfilled her in a different way.

Lindsay truly embraced her role as a doctor and caretaker in the emergency department, always going the extra mile for her patients and thinking outside the box to try to save them. Time after time, Dr Lindsay found herself in the midst of life and death struggles in the trauma bay, always seeming to have her hands inside the chest of a beautiful woman. But right now, somewhere in an alternate reality, the role was reversed, with Lindsay being the beauty fighting for her life in the all too familiar emergency department.

The room Lindsay found herself in was quite a scene. A cacophony of sound hit anyone the instant they set foot in the room. Alarms and monitors were going off. Orders were being barked. Footsteps pitter-pattered around the room. The high pitched, electrical whirring of defibrillators charging echoed around the room from yet another unsuccessful shock. The tension was palpable.

All across the floor of the room, various items were strewn about. Wrappers from bits of medical equipment were tossed to the ground. Empty, used up blood transfusion and IV bags found themselves discarded. Lindsay’s bloody, tattered clothes also wound up on the light colored tile after a brief encounter with a set of shears. Small droplets of blood made a trail leading from the room’s entrance, all the way over to where the trauma room table was.

On the table, underneath the harsh, bright, fluorescent overhead light was the center of attention for the room’s occupants. Dr Sarah, Nurse Nancy, and Nurse Heather worked as a trio, each lady knowing their role inside out, backwards and forwards, from A to Z. Everyone knew their jobs at an expert level, but it was easier said than done for the emergency department’s triumvirate to maintain composure and impartiality, considering a friend and colleague was the poor soul requiring their lifesaving services this time.

Nurse Nancy, the 20+ year veteran of the ER who’s been there, done that, and seen it all stood at the head of the bed ambu bagging, sending much needed air into Dr Lindsay’s lungs. The stress, chaos, gore, and shock that came with being an ER nurse never fazed Nancy, especially after being exposed to such things for over two decades. But in this scenario, Nancy struggled. This wasn’t a stranger on the table tonight. Nurse Nancy couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of the ER’s go-to, unanimously loved leader being the one on the table this time. Heck, Nancy couldn’t even bring herself to look down at the table, not wanting to see her friend’s face, or the overall shape she was in. There was a knot in Nancy’s stomach, and her heart was racing. She hoped and prayed Dr Lindsay would pull through, but as each minute ticked by, each one faster than the last, Nancy’s hope was soon replaced by dread.

Heather, our emergency team’s dependable, hardworking nurse who regularly showed her moxie, stood off to the side of the table, tasked with keeping an eye on the heart monitors in order to note any changes, as well as pushing meds and setting up any equipment Dr Sarah may need. Heather’s eyes were trained on the heart monitors, which displayed a squiggly, sinuous, unorganized line. That squiggly line Heather watched signified something called ventricular fibrillation- a situation where a patient’s heart is twitching instead of actually beating, typically requiring a defibrillator shock in order to restore normal cardiac activity. Ventricular fibrillation, commonly known as v-fib amongst healthcare professionals, was something Heather has seen more times than she could count during her handful of years as a nurse. However, Heather found herself stunned when eyeing the heart monitor, coming to the stark realization that a familiar face was the one being resuscitated this time.

Dr Sarah, the cute, petite, nerdy redheaded doctor who, for all intents and purposes, was Dr Lindsay’s right hand man and most important ally in the battlegrounds of the trauma bay, stood right up against the table, doing anything and everything to bring her fellow ER doc back. Sarah had her gloved hands inside Lindsay’s chest, which was splayed open earlier in the struggle via a clamshell thoracotomy. The redheaded doctor’s hands were firmly wrapped around Dr Lindsay’s boggy, fibrillating heart, vigorously massaging away. A wet, rhythmic squishing sound was produced from Sarah’s internal compressions. “come on Linds… come on….” Sarah uttered under her breath, trying to fight the overwhelming emotions that attempted to consume her. “You were just talking to us Linds… Come on…” continued Sarah, trying to will Lindsay back amongst the living.

Sarah composed herself for a moment. “Let’s shock her again. Recharge the paddles to 30, Heather.” Ordered Sarah, stepping up to the plate. Heather did what she had to do. She set the crash cart to 30 joules and hit the charge button. The high pitched, electrical whining of the internal paddles charging filled the room as Heather handed Sarah the large, spoon shaped devices. Sarah pulled her hands out of Lindsay’s chest cavity and grabbed ahold of the internal paddles. Dr Sarah lowered the internal paddles into the gaping chasm of an incision site, around Lindsay’s erratically fluttering heart.

While her friends worked urgently to save her, Lindsay laid on the table, stripped completely nude, her toned, athletic body on full display in a room full of familiar faces, the violating nature of that fact going to the wayside due to the dire essence of the situation. Lindsay’s sandy, light brown hair was tied back in a messy bun or ponytail of sorts, being held in place with a black headband. The doctor’s icy, sky blue eyes remained open, her pupils the size of dimes, staring up above with a full blown death stare etched onto her face. She was intubated, with the ET tube being secured by a blue tube holder around the area of her mouth and lips. IV lines stuck out of both her arms. Her torso was littered with EKG electrodes and wires. A chest tube stuck out the left side of Lindsay’s ribs, redirecting blood and trapped air outwards. The rest of her upper torso, and belly to a lesser degree, were soaked with a combination of both blood and betadine. However, Lindsay’s chest was the main sight of shock and awe. Her chest had a large, crude, gash just below the nipple line, extending the entirety of her chest horizontally. Not only was there a massive gash, her sternum was sawed in half, and her chest was splayed open via a clamshell thoracotomy. A metal rib retractor sat dead center in her chest, keeping everything open. A large, metal vascular clamp stuck up and out of the incision site. Sarah could also be seen holding the internal defibrillator paddles in place in anticipation of a shock.

“Paddles charged. Everyone… CLEAR!” Dr Sarah called out, everyone else stepping back from the table. THWACK. The shock was delivered. “mmmph…” Lindsay moaned softly, her torso twitching sharply in response to Sarah’s shock. The trio paused after the shock. The monitors beeped fast and loud, everyone’s eyes looking over to see if there was a change. “Come on… she’s still in v-fib. I’m going again at 30. Everyone…. CLEAR!” shouted Dr Sarah, immediately shocking Lindsay again. Lindsay’s shoulders shrugged forward and her arms shivered, a wet thump being heard. Like before, Dr Lindsay’s heartbeat was unable to be restored. Sarah decided to up the ante, shocking her friend and coworker at 40 joules during the next go around. “MMMM!” Lindsay moaned louder, as if she could feel the stronger intensity of the shock. Again, v-fib persisted. “I’m going again at 40! Everyone…CLEAR!” Barked Sarah, determined to keep going. The next shock caused Lindsay’s toes to scrunch up hard at the far end of the table, showing off the bright white nail polish on her toes, along with the wavy, thin, but prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of the big, size 11 feet she was always so self conscious of.

Sarah wasn’t giving up, and neither was v-fib, so the fight was on. “Going again at 40! Everyone… CLEAR!!!” Sarah passionately yelled out, shocking Lindsay once more. Lindsay’s torso shot up and plopped back down hard all within the span of a second. The monitors kept alarming, but by that point, the trio tuned out the noise of the monitors, considering they were well aware there was a major problem. In the seconds after that shock, Lindsay’s heart fluttered and danced weakly for a moment, before coming to a sudden, complete stop. The heart monitors flatlined, and Lindsay’s heart sat completely motionless inside her cracked open chest. Lindsay’s beautiful blue eyes stayed wide open, staring up above, almost as if she was watching her friends determine their next move.

The flatline on the monitors was an absolute gut punch for everyone. Sarah stood there holding the internal paddles, deep in rumination about her next move. At the head of the bed, Nurse Nancy shined a pen light into Lindsay’s eyes. Lindsay’s pupils were the size of dimes, completely blown, not reacting to the pen light in the slightest. “oh… poor baby…” Nancy uttered, placing the pen light back in her breast pocket. “Pupils fixed and dilated.” Nancy continued, informing everyone, shaking her head. Heather looked over at the heart monitor. “Asystole on the monitors, down 37 minutes.” Added Heather. There was a collective pause after Heather’s words. Nancy didn’t say anything, but she went ahead and detached the ambu bag from the ET tube, a small amount of air quietly hissing out. The two nurses looked over at Sarah, knowing they’ve done all they could for their friend, but needed Sarah to make the final call.

Dr Sarah stood there shell shocked. Sure, Sarah has lost patients before- any ER doctor has. But this was different. This was a coworker. A colleague. A leader. Someone she looked up to. But most importantly, this was a friend. Sarah felt morally and emotionally obligated to continue resuscitation efforts. How could she just give up on Lindsay? At the same time, Dr Sarah viewed the situation clinically and logically. She knew that all possible options were exhausted. An asystolic patient with a downtime of 37 minutes and blown pupils was too far gone for additional interventions. With all this in mind, Sarah snapped back to reality, eyeing each member of the trauma team. Dr Sarah didn’t say a word to any of them. Finally, her eyes looked over at the clock that sat on the back left wall of the room. Sarah gently placed the internal paddles back down on the crash cart, then peeled her blood soaked, latex gloves off, her heart racing, eventually making the dreaded announcement. “Time of death, 8:08pm…” Sarah’s voice wobbling, on the verge of tears.

Nobody said a word, but everyone knew exactly what to do next. Nurse Nancy switched off the flatlined monitors, silencing the once noisy, hectic room. Heather disconnected the EKG electrodes and removed the IVs from each of Dr Lindsay’s arms. A blue surgical drape was hastily tossed on top of the open thoracotomy site, obscuring Lindsay’s inert, motionless heart from view. A toe tag was then filled out and placed on the big toe of Lindsay’s left foot. The tag dangled against the fine, thin, but prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of Lindsay’s feet. Lastly, a cover was placed over Lindsay, concealing the hauntingly beautiful gaze forever etched onto her face. Unfortunately for Lindsay, a cruel twist of fate- and perhaps irony resulted in her dying in the very place she spent so much of her time. In this alternate reality, Dr Lindsay was now the hottie who laid toe tagged and under a sheet in the emergency department.

#resus writing #resus community #resus #cpr resus #cpr female #cpr #medfet #dark cardiophilia

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dramaticallytotal · 8 days ago

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TDWT Headcanons Pt. 8

Idea Post Part One Last Part

• Chris did provide jackets for everyone in the Yukon. Just because he didn't want to be sued again and he knew Courtney was itching to do so. Definitely not for his anemic kid- anemic assistant.

• Chris and Chef also provided board and card games for the kids for downtime or in between shoots as they know bored kids and dangerous kids. Plus, Izzy makes up most of that danger if bored, which means they have to include Monopoly since that is her favorite game.

• Noah's not allowed to play blackjack since he can count cards.

• Clue is a popular game to play amongst the kids, and because there are so many of them, they tend to team up. Noah and Izzy aren't allowed to team up anymore. Neither are Heather and Leshawna.

• Alejandro doesn't want to admit that he loves game days because it was something he never got to do in his family, but he really loves it. He's was only allowed to play chess, checkers, go, and the like. (He gets really excited to know Noah, Heather, and Cody play go they also play chess along with Courtney).

• Hide and Seek is another popular game they all play, and though Courtney and Heather like to pretend they're too mature for it, they end up the most competitive on finding people and hiding. Izzy, Noah, Leshawna, and Cody are almost always the last ones to be found. Alejandro loves the game but also has a hard time with it because José used to pretend they were playing hide and seek and then just leave Alejandro hiding for hours.

• Harold has hosted DnD campaigns for some of the cast between Action and World Tour. The common players are Noah, Cody, Owen, Leshawna, Heather, Beth, Lindsay, and Trent.

• Lindsay carries emergency lip gloss and chapstick with her at all times. Not just for herself! For everyone. No one knows where she hides them all. She even assigned specific scents/flavors to people. Everyone found this out in Yukon when she screamed about chapped lips.

• Even though she is pretending to not know who Tyler is, she makes sure to give him his favorite chapstick: Cake Batter.

• The kids are constantly quoting vines, and it leaves Chris and Chef really confused and done.

• Example:

Cody, seeing a road work ahead sign when they are staying at a hotel: "Road work ahead?"

All the contestants' heads popped up from their seats of the bus they rented.

Chef driving looks at Chris who looks baffled: "Uh yeah."

Chris: "Have you guys seriously never seen those signs before? It means-"

All the contestants in perfect unison: "Uh, yeah. I sure hope it does."

Chris and Chef looking at the contestants then at each other: -_-

• The contestants are allowed to change up their outfits in episodes as long as they consist of the pieces of clothing they were wearing when they got introduced. So, for example, Noah can take off any of his shirts as long as he's wearing at least one that everyone knows is part of his signature outfit. Izzy sometimes uses her skirt wrap as a shawl. Lindsay has convertible boots where she can switch out the height of her heel/different style of heel.

• Gwen makes sure to get a postcard everywhere they stop to give to her Nana after the show is over.

• Ezekiel has a room in the crew part of the ship, but there's a camera pointed at the cargo hold door with a motion sensor alarm for him to know if someone goes in. It's so he can sneak down and make some noise to freak someone out and to sell the whole "feral" plot.

• Tyler, despite being basically supernaturally clumsy, is actually a really good cheer leader. In fact, he is on his school's cheer team.

• In the London challenge, Noah was the one to distract the corgis....well more like they distracted him and everyone watching is baffled when Noah pulls out a bag of dog treats that should not have fit in his utility belt. The corgis fell in love with him, and instead of Owen putting them in a sack, they followed Noah out like ducklings.

• Owen, being more of a little shit when Duncan starts being buddy buddy with him, convinces the punk that if they want to stay on Alejandro's good side to call him Al. Later in the confessional, Owen just smiled maniacally and cackled.

• When Noah was eliminated, he did fall into the lake like in canon kind of. Each time a contestant jumps out, there is almost always a body of water, a landing pad, or something to help break their fall with or without a parachute. They always make it seem like they fell from higher up if it's a stunt with no parachute. So, thankfully, Noah hit the mat, but he hit the side and promptly slipped off into the eel infested lake.

• Luckily, he wasn't fully submerged and quickly got but not before he was attacked by one eel. It leaped out of the water and hit his leg. It was more of a graze, really, considering he was actively getting out of the lake. It wasn't terrible, but he still had to go to the hospital

• The kids also hella quote SpongeBob.

• First class does have a TV. But there are so many parental locks on that thing.

• Heather is getting really sick and tired of Alejandro's big obvious crush on Noah. She's trying her best to keep him focused on getting...ew...aleheather to happen for the cameras. She wants her promised bonus for it. But she also wants her friend back. So she wants this whole thing to be a speed run because it's breaking her that Noah won't even look at her anymore. She knows why, god she knows, but she hates it.

• If you have a deal with Chris or the network, you are not allowed to reveal it under any circumstances during the duration of the show with the penalty of doing so being immediate disqualification and a penalty fee.

• Which is why she can't tell Noah about her deal, but the distance between them hurts. It started when he confessed to Heather that he may have had a small, very small crush on Alejandro. Then, she had been told the producers wanted the flirting between her and Alejandro more present in the next episode. She did it, but she saw how betrayed Noah looked at her.

• Next thing she knew, he was eliminated.

• Gwen started to hide her sketchbook because she started drawing Trent a lot more like when they were dating, and she's afraid someone will see it and start to think they'd start throwing challenges again for something as simple as her still liking her ex.

• The fake "pregnancy" scandal Blaineley announced about Tyler was actually him trying on the 9-month baby belly they have for health class to see if he could bend down and sit down with as much ease as his buddies thought. (His parents sued Celebrity Manhunt for spreading false and demeaning information about him).

• And someone did die after cooking a recipe from DJ and his Momma's show, "Momma's Heaping Healthy," but it wasn't because of the calories, carbs, or cholesterol, or anything like that. It was because the person who made it didn't substitute an ingredient that someone from their family was allergic to, and the person ate the food at a family reunion. The person who served it tried to blame DJ and his Momma's recipe, but that didn't hold up, so he tried to sue them for not including substitute options. It's a very messy situation since some saw what was going on and decided to sue the mother & son duo for their excessive weight gain. Then, more people jumped on the smoking train and started claiming their food was the cause of multiple problems.

• DJ and his Momma used a lot of money to pay lawyers. They're not homeless, just a little low on funds at the moment. DJ wants to win to get them back the money they spent on lawyers but to also open a restaurant with his mom instead of the show. With a restaurant, they would have more insurance with bogus claims like the ones they were dealing with.

• Owen's ad for the Bellybuster 5000 was a satire commercial he did for a comedy show.

• The only true things Blainley reported were the raccoon adoption between Courtney and Duncan, Heather's weight gain, and the subsequent back and forth she and Gwen went through, and the Total Drama Brothers' split.

• It was because of the lies and the angry parents suing her and Celebrity Manhunt about them, plus the treatment of the interns was real, and they sued too. Also it was aired on live TV... Everyone saw it, and a lot of people were appalled. This is some of the reasons she was fired from Celebrity Manhunt.

• Leshawna didn't actually knock a tooth out of Heather, but they did fight in Germany, which resulted in them getting into each other's faces and Leshawna slapping Heather hard. She hadn't meant to do it so hard, but Chris took her aside and said the majority of the viewers missed her and Heather fighting, and he would pay her a large sum to amp up any fight they had. They had had small spats here and there because of Alejandro, but the one in Germany was the worst because Heather brought up something she had told her in confidence, which resulted in the slap.

• Alejandro is so whipped. He practically melts when he's the chosen cuddle buddy for the night. He secretly wishes that he was the only cuddle buddy, I mean, it makes sense! They fit so well together, and plus he runs hot and Noah is always cold, and they help regulate each other.

• Noah gave up trying not to cuddle with anyone once Izzy let it out that he's already been filmed cuddling almost everyone. He wasn't happy at all, but he knew it would keep happening, so he made a list of those he is okay cuddling.

• Him adding Alejandro is purely strategic shut up.

Next Part

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dozing-marshmallow · 1 year ago

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BAKING WITH TOTAL DRAMA CHARACTERS SCENARIOS

(Photos aren’t mine by the way!)

BAKING WITH LINDSAY

(AS A BIRTHDAY SURPRISE)

You were surprised when she told you she didn’t have a mani-pedi appointment today. As if the day couldn’t be more convenient.

In Lindsay’s world, there was no such thing as baking unless it was done for her. And she was no expert in cooking either, which is why she was hesitant to bake.

“I don’t get it... Why am I putting four eggs in when five is my lucky number?”

Yep. As long as she was in the kitchen you could not let your guard down.

“What are you saying? What’s with all this flour? And this butter? Is that supposed to help me remember it?”

Alright, you both definitely didn’t have the same image in mind,“Remember what, Lindsay? We’re baking.”

“Ohh bake!” See? “I thought you meant pake, you know like password authenticated blah blah... Oh I’m soooo happy that wasn’t the case, you really aren’t complicated in that way, (Y/M)!”

She still messes your name up sometimes. But on the bright side, her motivation and inner child was found.

She loved pouring the sprinkles into the batter and tried her best to not break any when mixing.

You strictly put yourself in charge of dividing the batter evenly between each tin and swapping them around fifteen minutes within oven baking.

In the meantime, Lindsay managed to get started on the icing- not without constant confirmation that she was doing it right. Seems like she learnt a lot already.

All was looking well, until you noticed something out of place in the bowl. Feeling icky, you carefully extract it,”Lindsay... Is this your hair?”

“Oops...”

You fixed her hair into various styles until the timer went off.

She was gasping in amazement to how solid and fragrant they came out, asking if she could just eat them like that, and you don’t blame her.

Fast forward to icing the layer in between the combined cake and it as a whole, you were about done preparing the piping bag from a separate bowl of icing when she suddenly pleaded to do it.

Anxious, you handed it over to her. Your worry about any mistake she could make was short lived when remembering that even if it did come out slobbery, you know that her intentions were pure and it’s not like anyone else was going to eat the cake anyway. Until watching her actually pipe made you realise she was no amateur:

She was way better at it than you expected.

Seriously, her flowering and swirls were so high in symmetry, it was practically perfect!

“Duhhh! I do makeup! Hair and makeup! I’m like basically holding a curler, ooo I wonder if I could use this bag to style my hair instead? This has to be Victoria’s Secret to smelling so good!”

Logic never went well with Lindsay’s talents. And that was fine with you.

“Taa-da!” She cheers out,”Ohh it’s so pretty... I almost don’t wanna eat it!”

You congratulated Lindsay for her fruitful efforts and asked if she knew why you wanted to bake a cake with her specifically on that day.

“Because you like like me?” Her response after her time of self complimenting over the finish product was done.

“Yes, and also...” This is it.

You grabbed your 1 candle and 7 candle, placing them next to each other on top of the cake.

She watched as you lit them up in seconds, and without warning, the occasion hit her.

“Ohh right! Now I know why my Facebook’s blowing up like crazy today! It’s today!” As though the piped cursive writing of her name on top of the cake didn’t tell her too, but when she started clapping her hands together with that big smile on her shiny lips, it made up for it,”Yaaay! Seventy one today! Can’t believe how long it’s been since I first picked up a magazine. And was born, can’t forget about that, duh. Uh oh. Does that mean I’ll get frail and wrinkles now? Aww I don’t wanna give up tanning! Not yet!”

“You don’t need to worry about that for now, Lindsay, because it actually says seventeen. You’re seventeen today, and for another three hundred and sixty five days. Happy birthday, baby.” ⟡

BAKING WITH GWEN

(HELPING HER OUT)

“A pie, huh? Which flavour you thinking, apple, blueber-“

“Blackcurrant. We’ll be making a blackcurrant pie... that okay with you?”

When Gwen told you that her clique were hosting a get together party, you were almost as enthusiastic as she was.

But...

Because this was Gwen’s first time going to a party, she never thought she would have to worry about oven temperatures and accurate measurements up until now where the group agreed to whip up something individually that everyone could all share and eat.

That’s why she came to you with this dilemma! Her one and only.

Definitely not so she could simultaneously spend time with you.

You believed the thought process behind her choice of baking a blackcurrant pie was genius: the lattice crust on top could mimic a spiderweb and the colour behind itself was the real thing that appealed to the goth eye.

At the start, Gwen was nervous. She never did this kind of stuff before and didn’t want to screw it up, especially if her friends were going to eat it.

That’s why you suggested: I’ll make the crust, you can make the blackcurrant filling.

Oh how she loved crushing the blackcurrants,“Just imagining it’s Heather’s head right now.” She said with a smile.

Isn’t she so cute!

After pouring the sauce in the base, Gwen’s ambition really skyrocketed- you couldn’t deny how happy you felt when she insisted on making the perpendicular crust for the top, and that was just one example.

Even with all the red on her hands, she really was an artist.

“This is fun! It’s really like painting! Only with dough and fruit.”

Now, all the pie needed was no more than thirty minutes in the oven. To pass the time, you guys decided to do some drawing in her bedroom.

And it came out beautifully! The crust was golden brown and the blackcurrant juices were steaming with sweet flavour. Delicious... You can tell by Gwen’s eyes that she can’t wait to sink her teeth into a slice of it.

But her craving was quickly replaced by annoyance, upon realising how messy the countertop and floor was.

You cheekily remind her that she could’ve just bought something and passed it off as hers if she didn’t want to go through the trouble of cleaning everything up.

“Y-You think I would do something like that just so I wouldn’t need to clean? Jeez, I’m not that bad! I couldn’t handle the dreading guilt of doing that to them. Besides, I made it with you. That alone already tops off any other pie I could have bought instead.” <3

BAKING WITH ALEJANDRO

(IN CELEBRATION OF A SPANISH FESTIVITY)

“It would be an utmost honour, mi tesoro.”

In light of his Spanish roots, you were going to be baking “Pan de Cea” which was some kind of bread that’s traditionally made in favour of this summer festival called “festa de exaltación”.

You couldn’t wait! However, because you weren’t so familiar with bread baking, you were naturally amazed by Alejandro having known the entire recipe off by heart.

“No need to be ashamed. Unlike my love for you, this recipe will be very easy for you to understand.”

And what would be a day with Alejandro without his charming lines?

You loved and hated the warm effect they had on you, even more so when they escalated to a physical level.

He loves to stand right behind you, with his hand being on yours when you were mixing the yeast, the flour, the salt, the olive oil together...

He’d pour the water so majestically into the bowl and took over when your arm got tired of stirring.

After the dough was hard, he claimed that you’d have to leave it in the bowl under plastic wrap for a day,“I know I’d feel safe if you stayed here all day with this dough, your beauty is the perfect thing to maintain a high temperature.”

Pretending you weren’t flustered, he laughed and invited you to get churros with him to make up for the spare time- it was only fitting.

Timeskip to the next day where the dough was hard, just how it needed to be on the parchment paper. Two minutes of watching Alejandro rub the dough in olive oil felt like two hours with the frequent looks he shoots at you.

Once he’s done, he pampers you by also literally massaging you during the hour needed for the bread to rise. Guess he thought you got jealous of it.

Jealous was a stretch, but you didn’t think you’d groan when it was time to take the loaf out. At least it smelt as pleasant as it looked.

As you were about take a piece, Alejandro stopped your hand with his to take it for you instead. This was nothing out of the ordinary, Alejandro just enjoyed having the liberty to feed you like that.

“Delicious... You did so well...”

“Don’t hold yourself at such low standards, mi amor! We did very well. Words alone aren’t enough to describe how proud I am of you. Feliz festa de exaltación.”

“Happy exaltation party!”

For the first time in your relationship with him, he was the one caught off guard,”Did I say it in English before?”

¡Era canela fina! ///

BAKING WITH CHRIS

(JUST WANTING TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM)

Initially, he would accuse the activity something only for “peasants” to do so you quickly reminded him that it was an insensitive thing to say and it wasn’t always about material things; sometimes it’s just about wanting to spend time with him outside Total Drama.

Once he’s gotten over his pride, he joins you, on the condition that you made cookies- since, according to him, it requires the less mental strength.

This probably won’t be surprising, but he made you do most of the work (at first). Claimed that his hands would be “soiled” if he touched the “filthy” ingredients for too long.

In the beginning, he was mean spirited as Chris enjoys to be i.e pouring a handful of flour down your clothes, forcing your face down the sink with the tap on, general shoving.

You wouldn’t have minded if you could’ve also had a laugh whenever you tried to recite the treatment.

Yeah he would be seriously insulted if you tried even doing something as little as rubbing a chocolate chip against his cheek.

It wasn’t until you threw an egg at his head out of anger and watched the yolk oil down his hair where he took accountability that he went overboard. Sure, he was laughing while he did.

But his hair was ruined for the rest of the baking process so you were too.

Afterwards, there was less “joking” and more compassion. Somehow now that he temporarily moved past his sadist ways, Chris began to involve himself a lot more in the whisking and licking your finger and vice versa of leftover batter.

The rolling of dough into a collection of spheres was arguably the best part.

“Look Chris! I made one that looks just like you!” You held up a cookie circle, obvious that those two lines of dough were purposely added to be on top to mimic his hair.

“Oh? What a coincidence! I made one that looks just like you too!” He declared, revealing a sticky slob of dough in his hand right after he said that.

“Oi...” You smile helplessly,”That’s not a nice thing to say to your spouse.”

But hey, if he didn’t tease at all, was that really Chris?

Post setting them on the tray and into the oven, Chris immediately rushes to the shower, and by the time he’s done, you were on your fifth cookie.

He whined at you for not waiting for him, but you’re quick to hand the one you’re on to him.

He finishes it, not without reminding you that you were the only exception to treating him like a “regular” person. Which in his books, was a deadly sin.

Needless to say, he’s impressed; despite him letting on so little, you’ve been with this man long enough to know otherwise. You could only smirk when he makes dismissive claims that they would’ve came out better if it was just him making them as he took spontaneous sips of his glass of milk.

By the end, he’s really glad you had this time together. He won’t stop thinking about it for a while. Heck, he’s more excited about baking with you again than you are.

Even if he won’t admit it.

Yet. :)

#total drama #total drama island #total drama scenarios #td lindsay #td chris #tdi #td gwen #td alejandro #baking scenarios #romance #fluff #x reader #tdi x reader

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euno11a · 1 year ago

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Tattooed Hearts IV

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities, mentions of being kidnapped

Pt I • Pt II • Pt III • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

***

“Come on, slut, cum for daddy.” The rando spoke as he thrusted into you. You laid on the bed, not moving except from the occasional jump from his hard thrusts. Listen, you weren’t one for calling things stupid, lying or faking things. But the amount of times you’ve faked an orgasm tonight was hilarious. It’s been two hours of nothing but faking moans, whines, whimpers and orgasms. You couldn’t wait to leave, feeing stupid for even agreeing to have sex with this guy. Once he was finally done, you hurriedly put your clothes back on and gave him a quick smile before leaving. God, you really were a dumbass. The streets were dark, nothing but the street lights illuminating the road and sidewalk. Every sound you heard caused you to jump, it was never the safest option to walk home at 11 PM, fearing of being kidnapped or taken. You knew you weren’t gonna make it home without freaking out, so you walked into the nearest store, which just happened to be a flower shop. The scent of flowers and different herbs hit your senses like a truck. You walked around a little, curious about the beautiful blue flowers you saw.

“Blue hydrangeas, they symbolize remorse and regret.” You whipped your head around, seeing a pretty lady, thick curly hair with a green apron on, the worker. “You walked right to them, maybe it’s because something’s happened?” You paused, looking at the lady with slight shock in your eyes, “How did you…?”

“Honey, I work with flowers. Every flower in my shop has a story…just like you apparently.” You gave you a gap toothed smile, it was one of those rare smiles that filled your heart with joy. “Uhm, yeah…Sorry, I’ve had a rough night.” You smiled apologetically, turning to look at her. Eloise…what a fitting name, derived from ‘Helios’ meaning sun in Greek. “Well don’t keep me in the dark now! Tell me about it, hun.” She sat down behind a wooden table, making full bouquets, each one telling a story. You didn’t know why you felt the need to tell her what had happened, but she felt like someone to lean on. Catching her up about your night, Lindsay telling you to get dick, hooking up with some random guy, faking everything, even about Jungkook. You were now an open book to her, she chuckled, cutting off the bottom of the stems, “Sounds like your friend was just tryin’ to help, darling.” “I know, but I shouldn’t have listened. I’ve had experience like that in the past, I should’ve known.” You spoke quietly, looking down at the chrysanthemums on the table. “Listen to me, life is about experiences. Good or bad, they make you who you are. And you can’t let this man take control of your love life just because he hurt you. You gotta pull your pants up and find yourself a nice man that treats you right in life AND in bed.” She smiled up at you, giving you a knowing look. Blushing, you laughed, nodding your head. Maybe you should let Jungkook go. Yes, he’s hurt you in the past, but you can’t dwell on it. You sat with Eloise, watching her make bouquets, looking at the time you saw it was getting later than it already was. “I think I’m gonna head out…thank you, Ms Eloise.” You smiled, grabbing your bag and making your way to the door. “Honey, wait! Take this, I think it’ll help start your new story.” She smiled at you, handing you a bouquet. It was made up of hyacinths; representing young love, lilies and orchids; representing missing someone, daffodils; representing new beginnings and gardenias; representing secret love. You took the bouquet, smiling gratefully at her, waving and bidding your goodbyes, you left. *** The bouquet sat in a vase on your kitchen counter, standing full and tall, proudly almost. You stared at the luscious flowers, the bright colours illuminating your apartment. It seemed almost chaotic, the bouquet, so many colours, different flowers…it matched your life. There was so much chaos, yet it was so beautiful. You brushed it off, but the thought still in your mind as you got ready for bed. Brushing your teeth, your phone buzzed; it was Lindsay. Girl I trust🫶: Hey babes, I hope the hookup went well 😏 You: Yeah, I love faking everything for almost two hours Girl I trust🫶: OMG NOOO Girl I trust🫶: IM SO SORRY!!! You: Honestly, it’s okay, I met a nice lady that gave me flowers You: So something nice happened at least The both of you texted for a while, saying good night and heading to bed. Something about this whole night was itching away at you, almost as if you knew something was going to happen, but you didn’t know what. *** With two coffees in your hand, you walked down the street, it was a thank you gift to Ms Eloise for the flowers and listening to your currently fucked up life. You made it to the shop, it looked even brighter in the daylight, the flowers looking their absolute best just waiting to be put into someone else’s story. You tried to open the door, but it was hard when holding two coffees. “Let me get that,” You heard from behind you, someone opening the door for you. You turned to smile and say thank you, but remained stoic when you saw it was Jungkook. Don’t let him ruin your life. You gave him a tight lipped smile, “Thank you.” You walked into the shop, not saying anything else. The shop wasn’t busy, but you could see Ms Eloise behind that same wood table, making beautiful bouquets.

The little ring of the bell alerted her someone came in, she looked up and gave you her gap toothed smile. “Why, it’s lovely to see you again, darlin’!”

“Hi, Ms Eloise.” You smiled back, walking further into the shop. “I got you this coffee as a gift for the flowers last night. I hope you like it!”

She threw down her scissors, hands raising in happiness, “Ooo, honey, you don’t know how much this means to me. I absolutely love it, thank you.” She took the coffee carefully, sipping it and humming in delight. Ms Eloise looked past you, raising her brow, “Boy, I thought I told you to stop comin’ in here if you weren’t gonna get any flowers!”

The deep chuckle, the one you knew all too well sounded through the shop. “Come on, Eloise, I was just helping this lovely lady open the door! Her hands were full and you know me, I love to help damsels in distress.” Jungkook walked further into the shop, leaning on the table beside you.

“Oh honey, if you knew this one, you’d know she ain’t need any help from you.” She smirked at him, then looked to you, sipping her coffee.

“Trust me, I know she doesn’t.” He looked over to you, glancing down your body, admiring the sundress you were wearing.

You stood there stunned, “How do you know each other…?” It was almost like you’d been hit in the face with flowers.

Ms Eloise laughs, grabbing a sunflower from the table in front of her. “He likes to pop in every once in a while to bug me, he’s like a pest that won’t get off my flowers! Only thing is, he never buys any.” She raised her eyebrow looking at Jungkook.

He raised his hands up in defence, “I didn’t know there was a problem coming to say hello to friends!”

“There ain’t, honey, but you could at least fill my pockets a little bit! The amount of times you walk in and never do anything is incredible!” Ms Eloise teased him, placing the flowers on brown wrapping paper.

You couldn’t help but crack a smile at their playful banter, laughing a little as well. You talked with Ms Eloise for a little before deciding to head out, needing to get some errands done. You said goodbye and walked out of the shop, hearing your name being called. This time, you knew who it was and you turned around. “Y/N, where you going?” Jungkook asked as he walked to catch up with you.

“Just running errands.” You spoke, your tone was no longer spiteful or hurt, but calm and more confident.

He nodded, placing his hands in his pocket, staring at your eyes for a second too long. He looked to the street, seeing others walking around, shopping and talking. “Listen, I wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with anything.” His voice was sincere, different from what you’ve heard from him before.

You nodded, looking into his dark brown eyes, “Thank you, Jungkook…that’s very nice of you.” You both stood there, looking at each other, but not saying anything until you broke the silence. “I…I have some errands to get done, so I have to get going, but I’ll see you around.”

“Alright, yeah. Have fun with your errands, Y/N.” He gave you a small smile, turning around to walk away, leaving you to walk your own way.

How funny, you pictured the bouquet sitting on your counter, white tulips being the centre…forgiveness being the central part of your story.

Taglist: @talyaaas-blog @cassies-cookies

@junecat18

#bts #bts army #bangtan #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader

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witchygagirlwrites · 4 days ago

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Adam Ruzek x Reader

Adam just wants someone to love that won't break him apart

When Adam met you he wasn’t looking for a relationship. He was so far over being the fuckup, being the one who loved too much too fast. He had so many failed engagements it was embarrassing so when he met this detective from major crimes that the rest of intelligence already knew from before his time in the unit he couldn’t imagine ever wanting her to be tangled in his mess.

You however had deemed him worthy of friendship for some unknown reason. He quickly found out that you were the type of person that if you cared about someone they didn’t pull away or get in their own head, they never got a chance because you were always right there. You would be raising hell one minute and saving lives the next.

It’d taken him a few months of knowing you before you finally told him just why Voight liked you.Turned out you’d called Voight a fucking idiot on a drug raid then not twenty minutes later had caught a bullet to your vest to save Lindsay. You’d gotten a cracked rib and Voight had come to the hospital to see you. “He’s an asshole but a semi decent asshole. If you’re one of his, you’re one of his”

He sat across from you, watching as you talked about his boss and couldn’t help but smile. You were gorgeous and sweet, had a little bit of a temper but it would damper as fast as it would ignite. You always managed to have a kind smile for everyone simply because you told him your view was “Try to be nice first because if you’re a bitch first no one believes the nice but if you’re nice first then roll out the bitch it makes so much more of an impact”

He wondered at times why they hadn’t just tried to get you in the unit instead of pulling him out of the academy but at least by the cards falling the way they did he got to know you.

The more you got to know Adam, the more you wondered just why none of his engagements ever stuck? Did he just not want to get married? Did the exes just end up not being a good fit? You weren’t blaming the women by far because you knew Kim and loved her but damn the man was sixty percent golden retriever.

The day you met him he hung back when you rolled on scene and the unit had come to greet you. You noticed him hanging back until Al waved him over “Kid, come meet our major crimes detective” that was how Al always referred to you, Voight too. You weren’t just a major crimes detective, you were theirs.

When Adam had come over Al introduced you. Jay warned him “Easy Ruz, even Voight likes her” you saw the shock in his eyes at that little bit of information. “Voight? Hank Voight?” you grinned “I’ll tell ya one day”

You got close with Adam, you became friends. You hung out after work and on the weekends. You knew better than to fall for him because he wasn’t the type you could fall for. He was your friend, that was it.

That was what you told yourself until Kim called you one day to tell you Adam was having a hard time. She knew he needed someone and he wouldn’t open up to anyone in the unit so she hoped you could get through to him. You grabbed takeout and a six pack and went to his place.

________________________

Too much at one time. Adam couldn’t deal with much more but he couldn’t admit he was struggling. He couldn’t risk Voight suspending him. He was sitting on the couch with his head leaned back when he heard a knock on the door. He sighed and stood up, probably Kevin.

He opened the door and there you stood, a bag of takeout and a six pack. You didn’t wait for him to let you in, you pushed past him into his place “So I got your usual but I also got the teriyaki because last time you said it smelled good when I got it. I got beer but I got tea also so there’s options”

He watched you go into his kitchen, pulling out plates,cups and laying them across the counter. You acted as comfortable here as you did at your place. You hadn’t given him the chance to tell you he didn’t want company, you hadn’t asked him what was going on, you just pushed your way in like you always did. The way only you could. You stopped and smiled at him “Well, come eat dammit”

He smiled “Yes ma’am” and walked over to you. You handed him a plate then met his eyes “You know if you’re not ok, you can tell me” he nodded “I know sweetheart” you smiled “Good, then let's eat”

You were laying across Adam’s couch, your feet in his lap watching tv. This was a usual occurrence any time the two of you had spare time any more you were together, he always found himself or thinking about you. When he got hurt you dropped everything to get to med. When he needed someone to talk to you were there. He’d fallen for you without even realizing it.

“Would you ever date a cop?” he asked and you looked up at him “Why? Are you hooking me up with someone?” he shrugged “Just wondering” you shrugged “Depends on who it is I guess” he nodded slowly “Do you have eyes for a cop?”

You rolled your eyes back to the tv before answering “Well a detective” detective? Christ, did you have a thing for Halstead? “What unit?” he asked and you grinned “Intelligence” he nodded “Please tell me you don’t have a thing for Jay”

Your eyes flew back to him and you stared at him for a second before you cracked up laughing “Oh you beautiful idiotic man” “What?” he asked with a shrug so you threw your legs off his lap and leaned up close to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek “It’s you Ruzek,it’s been you for months now”

He smiled and turned to catch your lips with his. The kiss was gentle, featherlight but you had a smile on your face when he pulled away “Good because it’s been you too” you shook your head and got back comfortable “You can take me out on a real date tomorrow night ok?” he laughed at how you said it and the fact that you were currently curled up in his lap saying it “Ok baby” you cut your eyes up at him “Baby huh? I like that” Yeah maybe just maybe he could manage to fall in love one last time because he knew this one would stick.

#adam ruzek x you #adam ruzek x reader #adam ruzek fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic

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hoffstrap-yuri · 10 months ago

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Bad Idea, Right?

ao3 // masterlist

*Summary: Peter Strahm goes over to Det. Hoffman's house to get more information about the Jigsaw case. Should be simple enough, right?

*Rating: +18 for explicit mature content

*Content/Tags: Feeding Kink, PWP, Feedee Peter Strahm, Feeder Mark Hoffman

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

Strahm used his free hand to massage his temples. He blinked a couple of times to wet his eyes once more and got out of his car. He grabbed his bag and slung his suit jacket over his forearm before closing the door. He walked over to the door before him, hesitating to turn the knob before getting over his trepidation.

“You know.” A man said, stepping out of the kitchen and leaned against the wall frame. He crossed his arms in front of him and raised an eyebrow, “Most guests knock before entering someone’s house.”

“Sorry. Thought I could come in.” The other man, slightly taller, replied.

“Have a seat in here, Agent Strahm.” He made a gesture towards the kitchen table and Strahm walked over to the little set-up. At most the table was only ever meant to seat two people, but it was clear that the vinyl on one chair was a little more worn than the other. Strahm could see why a man who lived alone would choose to sit there. Clear sight line to the entryway. If he craned his head up just so, then he could see into the lot behind the house. The other seat didn’t offer nearly this level of security and while he was the guest in the Detective’s home, he sat at the less used seat. Something was cooking on the stove behind Strahm that reminded Strahm of home. Sitting in his nonna’s kitchen on Sunday’s after church, trying to get a sample of the spaghetti sauce before she caught him and hit the back of his hand with a wooden spoon. He smiled to himself as the other man put the lid back on whatever it was he was cooking, bolognese if Strahm remembered correctly.

“You didn’t have to cook for me.” Strahm cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.

“I know, but I wanted to. You look like you haven’t had a decent meal in months, before you even came here.” Hoffman sat down in his preferred seat

“What makes you think I haven’t had a good meal?” Strahm was borderline offended, not because he was wrong but because of how easy the other man seemed to read him.

“For a man your age you’re rather thin. Though you have some bulk in your center you’re not big by any means.” Hoffman leaned into the table, putting an elbow up as he shared a gaze with Agent Strahm. There seemed to be an implication behind his movements that Hoffman meant that Strahm wasn’t as big as he was. He seemed to answer Strahm’s puzzled look with a slight smirk that exuded confidence. Almost… flirtatious? “Probably from a couple years of fast food.”

“Truly your detective powers of perception are impeccable.” Strahm remarked, rather dryly

“Then I’m right? That’s all that matters to me.”

“That’s not…” Strahm started but shook his head, “Anyway, I came here to talk about the case.”

“Right.” Hoffman crossed his legs under the table and Strahm pulled the file from his bag. He went to pin up the details onto the wall as a force of habit, but then realized that he wasn’t in his little office with a pin board. After this gaff, he spread the files across the table hoping that Hoffman didn’t notice him. “Here’s what we know so far.”

“By we you mean…” Hoffman’s thought trailed off only for Strahm to answer

“Lindsay and I.”

“Of course.”

“And we were hoping if there was any supplemental information you could provide us about Agent Kerry or the jigsaw murders at all, now would be a good time…”

“I do actually.” Hoffman got up from the table and brought his files over, leaving them in a nice stack to the side of Strahm’s flurry of papers. “This one looks the most promising. Similar modus operandi, similar tape…”

“Awesome.” Strahm took the file from Hoffman’s hands and thumbed through the papers. “And you were sure this murder was committed by Amanda Young and not John Kramer?”

“That’s what the evidence suggests.”

“Then it’s not confirmed?”

“It’s still an open case, agent.” Hoffman replied

“Okay.” Strahm took a deep breath and looked closer over another file Hoffman brought to him

“Dinner’s ready as well.” Hoffman commented, towering over Strahm and leaning against the chair

“Okay.” Strahm replied absentmindedly as Hoffman dished himself up a plate. Hoffman looked the FBI agent up and down while the agent’s eyes remained glued to the papers before him. Hoffman had finished eating and cleaned up his plate before Strahm moved on to the next case. He walked over to the table and cleaned up Strahm’s pile, leaving out what Strahm had pointed out early as the most pertinent information.

“You know, agent. It’s really rude of you to come over and not eat anything after your host has made something for you.”

Strahm knew the second the words slipped out that that was the beginning of the end for him, “I mean I didn’t ask you to make anything for me.” He could hear his grandmother shouting at him from the beyond. Hoffman gave him a look that Strahm tried to dismiss at the time, but knew he’d more than upset the other man.

“The food’s getting cold.” Hoffman replied, pulling Strahm close by his necktie. “Now I would suggest, you start eating.”

“Or what?” Strahm scoffed

“I’ll just feed you myself.”

“I’m not a toddler, I can feed myself just fine, thank you.” Strahm cleaned up his space on the table fully and went over to the stove. He picked up the plate that Hoffman had left next to the pot of sauce then grabbed a tongs worth of noodles before carefully ladling on the sauce. The texture was thinner than the sauce his grandmother made, but it still had a familiar smell to it. He only covered maybe half the plate and brought his meal back to the table. “There, can we talk about the case now?”

“At least tell me whether it’s to your liking, Agent.” Hoffman rested his head on his knuckles and waited for Strahm to take a bite. Strahm rolled his eyes and brought a forkful up to his mouth. He paused for a second before eventually taking a bite.

“Could use a couple seconds in the microwave.” Strahm muttered under his breath. Hoffman took the plate from out under him and popped it into his microwave. Anger was rising in Strahm’s voice as he told Hoffman, “You know, I am a grown man. I could’ve done it myself, Detective.”

“And have you take 20 minutes to do that? Fat chance.” Hoffman crossed his arms as he waited for the familiar ding of the appliance. He brought the plate back over to the agent and sat across from him once more. “Is that better?”

“Yeah.” Strahm replied quickly in between a bite. He wanted to mouth off a bit more, something about Hoffman’s people-pleasing nature that drove Strahm up the wall… but the food was pretty damn good. Hoffman looked over his shoulder back at the range before getting up once more and grabbing the plate of garlic bread to ring back to the table.

“Eat.” Hoffman said. There was no intonation change that made it sound like a question, but it definitely came off as a command. Strahm scowled before taking a piece of bread off the plate and shoving it into his mouth. He chewed at it while keeping his face even-tempered but enjoyed the garlic flavor. He looked over the piece with fondness, trying to remember the last time he had good quality garlic bread and not just as a side to some crappy Italian him and Lindsey would pick-up during their investigations. Hoffman’s hand got in Strahm’s face, snapping his attention back to the meal at hand. “At this rate you’ll be finished with dinner by bedtime.”

“So?” Strahm scoffed

“Hurry it up.” Hoffman got up from his chair, shoved a piece of garlic bread into Strahm’s mouth and placed his hand underneath Strahm’s jaw to guide the other man’s pace. Strahm tried to free himself from Hoffman’s grasp but his mouth was clamped in between Hoffman’s thumb and forefinger. Hoffman’s gaze lied square on Strahm’s face. A heavy sigh left Strahm’s nostrils after he finished the bread. Without hesitation, Hoffman brought a giant forkful of the spaghetti up to Strahm’s lips and nudged it into his mouth. “That’s a good boy.” Strahm’s whole body went weak for a second at those words. Something about Hoffman’s low voice saying that to him made him want to eat. Would Hoffman’s praise continue in that sultry voice if he did eat more? Before he could finish his bite another fork was brought up to Strahm’s mouth. His lips didn’t budge for a second, but after a growl let slip from Hoffman’s throat, Strahm slurped up the noodles. “You can go faster.”

“No, I really can’t.” Strahm rolled his eyes

“You can, and you will.” Hoffman replied back before shoving more pasta into Strahm’s mouth. “See that plate’s gone. That wasn’t hard.”

“You say that like I’m going to eat more.” Strahm groaned a little bit at the thought of being stuffed to the brim. Hoffman simply took his plate and refilled it with the same pasta to sauce ratio that Strahm had previously. Strahm looked up at him with incredulous eyes, but ate as the fork came back up to his mouth.

“And you still eat anyway.” Hoffman hummed as Strahm worked himself back up into a decent pace once more and ate the second plate of pasta. He let a heavy sigh escape from his lips and leaned back in his seat before quietly muttering,

“No more…”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” Hoffman feigned ignorance. He heard the other man just fine, and Strahm knew that but he had to repeat himself.

“I’m too full.” Strahm huffed

“Fine.” Hoffman replied before snaking a hand over Strahm’s shoulder and across his chest. Strahm made a soft grunt as the hand kept moving further south, resting on Strahm’s distended stomach

“What are you…” Strahm looked at Hoffman’s hand before moaning as his finger tips sunk slowly into the his overstuffed gut. His moan was interrupted by a slight burp before his hand covered his mouth. Strahm felt himself grow red in the face as Hoffman’s other hand worked in tandem to rub the bulge that spilled over his belt.

“How’s that?” Hoffman asked, leaning against Strahm’s ear as his fingers dug deeper. Rather than answer with words, another groan escaped from his mouth. “You’re never like this at work, Peter. Maybe I could get something done if I just threw some food in front of you and fawned over how well behaved you are.”

“Fat fucking…” Strahm started to say, getting cut off by some noise his body decided to release at that moment, “Fat fucking chance.”

“What would your partner think of you? Seeing you make a pig of yourself at your desk. She’d probably notice the way I’d slip a dozen donuts in front of you and their disappearance before lunch…” Hoffman whispered the copiously sweet nothings into Strahm’s ear as a hand slipped its way between Strahm’s legs. “You’ve been fighting it up until this point. Trying to eat as little as you can while your partner’s around so you don’t have to think about your lack of shame when it comes to sucking down food. Don’t fight it when I’m around. Give into me, Agent Strahm.”

Strahm could only respond with his teeth pressing into his lips, threatening to tear the skin open from the pressure. Hoffman’s lips were dangerously close to Strahm’s cheek, he wanted that connection so badly. Hoffman knew this, and so he kept it from Strahm as his hands worked the belt off Strahm’s waist. Next came the fly of Strahm’s pants which Hoffman unzipped, carefully palming at the erection that was hiding under Strahm’s clothes. Hoffman gave the other man a couple of quick pumps with his hand before fully committing to jerking him off. Strahm’s dick sat squarely in Hoffman’s hand for a moment before he focused on giving the Agent long strokes along the length. Strahm grunted and his foot jerked up, hitting one of the legs of the table. Hoffman could only make a small ‘tisk’ noise as Strahm tried to keep himself composed while the other man got him off. Hoffman’s free hand trailed up Strahm’s shirt before resting just below Strahm’s pecs. A breath of hot air rolled along Strahm’s neck and he jolted as he came onto the underside of Hoffman’s dining room table. As he felt himself coming down from his stuffed high, he heard Hoffman whisper over his head some iteration of “Good boy” over and over. He zipped himself back up, careful not to get the bottom of his work shirt caught in the fly. However, just before he could relax, Hoffman pulled the chair out from under Strahm and sent the other man falling to the floor. He cursed loudly and looked up at Hoffman.

“You made a mess. Now clean it.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do? Lick it off like I’m some kind of dog?”

“No.” Hoffman shook his head, “Just some pathetic pig.” Hoffman looked at the semen left on his thumb, and brought it up to his lips before letting the appendage dip fully into his mouth. After that was clear, he made a show of licking the cum left on his palm off from the center up. Strahm leaned forward a bit before he felt the press of Hoffman’s foot on his back, forcing him back down onto all fours. Strahm growled in response but got up to the table and dipped his tongue into his mess. He gagged a little bit, wondering how Hoffman had managed to make the substance look so alluring as he swallowed it off his hand. He felt Hoffman’s big toe digging deeper into his back as he refused to lick the cum off, so he slowly began to lap at it. “You really don’t have any shame do you, Agent?”

“Shut up.” He turned his head back to argue, only to realize that there was no winning in this scenario. He turned back around and continued licking up his semen for Hoffman’s pleasure. When most of the white was gone, and could easily be cleaned up with a rag, Hoffman helped Strahm back onto the chair. His hands gravitated back to Strahm’s stomach and finally gave Strahm the ever elusive peck on the cheek he’d been expecting during their whole liaison. Strahm’s hands, which had been oddly still up until this point, forced Hoffman’s lips over to meet his and they kissed for a moment. Hoffman’s hands clutched at the collar of Strahm’s shirt and pulled him up onto his feet before guiding Strahm up against a wall. His shoulder blade hit the drywall, definitely leaving a mark. Hoffman growled into their kiss before pulling himself off. “Gave up already, fucker?”

“No. No. Just you’ve probably worked off all those calories I packed into you.” Hoffman laughed lowly, his lips meeting with Strahm’s neck. “Think you can fit in some dessert?” Strahm mulled the offer over for a second before shaking his head. “Shame. I make a damn good lobster tail.” He pulled Strahm by the collar of his shirt and brought him to his bedroom. Maybe one more round and Strahm would have the room for something more.

#saw #mark hoffman #saw franchise #peter strahm #coffinshipping #hoffstrahm #saw movies #feeding kink #feedee peter strahm #feeder mark hoffman #pwp #saw smut #smut #saw fanfic #saw fanfiction #again not beating the wg feeding kink allegations with this one #leaning into it in fact xD

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mfred · 5 months ago

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August Reading Wrap-up

August was a hard month. I only read 13 books. Perhaps surprisingly, when things get hard and I feel very stressed, I read less. I can't focus or concentrate enough to get into a book. Reading is a source of joy and comfort for me, so my inability to lose myself in a fictional world really makes things worse.

But on to the books:

I started the month strong with Ilona Andrew's Sanctuary (4 stars). It was a lot of fun going back to the Kate Daniels world, this time through the character of Roman, the dark god Chernobog's high priest. Then I rode that high for a little bit by re-reading a couple of Andrew's Innkeeper's Chronicles books. I only re-read a couple and not the whole series because at their worst, Andrews can get really expository and explainy, and I find them at their worst in those books.

On the romance front, I also did some re-reading of Megan O'Brien's The Ride series, which is just mid motorcycle romance. It's kinda where my brain was at-- mediocre, mindless entertainment. I also fit in S. Cole's The Fates We Tame, which should have been more emotionally impactful than it was (4 stars). And I trudged through Blaze by Lynn Raye Harris, which ended up being pretty slow and boring (3 stars).

And then I picked up the Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley and really shocked myself by not liking it that much. On the surface, it had everything I should have loved: time travel, intrigue, romance! But I found it to be more lit fic than speculative fiction, which is not my bag. The twists at the end weren't suprising and twisty, just kind of flat. I ended up giving it 4 stars for technical merit, but feelings-wise, it was more of a 3 star book.

I thought I finished off the month with a DNF, Lindsay King-Miller's The Z Word. I read the first few chapters, felt like I knew exactly how the book would end, and then decided to skip to the end to see if I was right. And I was. And I didn't like it.

But at the last moment (literally the night of August 31st) I said, fuck it, I'm reading P. Djèlí Clark's Ring Shout, which has languished on my TBR for years. Years! AND IT WAS AMAZING. 5 full stars! Horror, humor, great characterization, thrilling plot! It had everything! I laughed and cried and was grossed out in equal measure.

It's so awesome, what reading a good book can do.

#book reviews #Ilona Andrews #the ministry of time #reading wrap up #scarlett cole #p. djèlí clark #ring shout

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natalynsie · 1 year ago

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5 Times Alejandro Flustered Tyler and 1 Time Lindsay Noticed Why (Aletyler Oneshot)

“Go Tyler! Go Tyler!” Lindsay screamed across the baseball field.

Tyler smiled at Lindsay. Lindsay was known for showing her friends support all the time. Even if it was just a friendly game between two teams from the same school during summer. Lightning had bet the juniors that the sophomores could beat them at baseball, and Tyler never turned down a challenge.

So, Tyler got everyone who would come roped in for the game. They didn’t have enough people for a proper team, but a game was a game. Tyler managed to round up Geoff, Duncan, Cody, Owen, and last but not least, Alejandro. Lightning managed to get Scott, Brick, Jo, Mike, and B. At the beginning of the game, he said something about it being “guys versus guys”. Tyler was pretty sure he still didn’t know that Jo was a girl.

There was only one person watching the game, and that was Lindsay. No one else really cared enough about some bet between Tyler and Lightning of all people. Yet, for some reason, Lindsay was still out cheering out on the sidelines.

“Tyler!” Lindsay yelled. Not cheered. Yelled.

Tyler turned towards the field.

A baseball was soaring at him.

Pow!

“Ugh,” Tyler groaned, falling back on the field. His head hit the grass, just like how the ball hit his face.

“Tyler!” Lindsay shrieked, horrified. She ran from the sidelines to Tyler, crouching next to him.

“Amigo.” Alejandro got on his knees next to Tyler. “Can you hear me?”

“Huh?” Tyler asked, in a daze. He looked side to side with squinted eyes, seeing two Alejandro’s. He had double vision. Not like he was a stranger to that.

Alejandro took Tyler’s hand, gently pulling him into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”

Tyler blinked a few times, and smiled. “Yeah, I’m okay. This is all grood! Happens all the slime.”

Alejandro chuckled. “Uhh, Tyler, I think you need to sit on the side with Lindsay for a little bit.”

“What?” Tyler asked. “No! You’re really fine! Wait, I mean-”

Alejandro gave Tyler a pat on the shoulder. “You need a break. I’m sure Mike wouldn’t mind sitting out to even out the teams.

“Dang,” Tyler sighed. Lindsay helped Tyler up, and he went to sit on the ground with her.

She smiled. “You said ‘slime’ instead of ‘time’.”

“Aw man, I did?” He folded his arms. “That’s embarrassing.”

“You also said ‘grood’.”

“Ugh…”

~~~

“I didn’t even see that,” Alejandro mumbled. “Good move.”

“Hah, well, you know,” Tyler responded. “I mean, how am I supposed to win sports without a sick sense of strategy? Also, my gym teacher accidentally put me on the chess team for all of ninth grade, so I learned to crush it.”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Duncan muttered.

“I should’ve been there,” Alejandro stated. “Maybe then I could kick your butt even harder than I am right now.”

Alejandro moved his knight to Tyler’s king, knocking it over.

“Checkmate.”

“Woah! That came out of nowhere!” Tyler exclaimed. “You’re really good.”

“Thank you, amigo,” Alejandro smirked and brought a hand to Tyler’s face. “Although, you did put up quite the fight.”

Duncan gave Lindsay a look with one eyebrow raised. She returned it with a smile.

Tyler shot back from Alejandro. “You’re also really good. Obviously,” He squeaked. “You beat me.” He chuckled.

“I did.”

~~~

“Thank you again for holding all of our stuff.” Alejandro slipped his three bags of clothes from individual stores onto Tyler’s arm. “We appreciate it.”

“Yeah!” Lindsay smiled. She dropped her bags into Tyler’s arms, and he stumbled backwards. She most certainly had more bags than Alejandro had.

“Mhm,” Justin acknowledged that they were giving thanks and hung a bag on each of Tyler’s right fingers. Tyler remained upright. He just wished his upper body strength as a whole was as good as his finger strength. With that, Justin walked into the changing room.

“Well, you know,” Tyler grunted. “You’re spending the money so I gotta carry the bags.”

“It’s our money, you’re still doing us a favor.”

“You’re doing a favor by looking pretty and stuff.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty? Why thank you.”

Tyler’s face turned slightly pink. “Yeah, uh, well I kind of said that on accident but like, you are pretty I just meant that-”

“I know what you meant, amigo.” Alejandro gave Tyler a smile. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Tyler managed to vocalize.

“Well. I’m going to try this shirt on.” Alejandro walked into a nearby changing room.

“Aw, you think he’s pretty,” Lindsay grinned. “So nice of you to compliment him.”

“You look pretty too,” Tyler smiled.

“Yay! I know I do, but thanks!”

~~~

“You gonna come in, Linds?” Tyler asked.

“No, I need to work on my tan. And my hair is straightened,” Lindsay replied.

“Aw man. But it’s beach day!”

“Come on, amigo.” Alejandro placed a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler’s eyes dashed to look at it. “Let’s just go swim. Bridgette and Geoff are waiting.”

“Yeah! Let’s go. Um,” He peeled his eyes from his shoulder, and to Alejandro’s eyes. “Yeah.”

Alejandro and Tyler stood still, staring at each other.

“Uhh, are you guys okay?” Lindsay asked.

“Yes!” Alejandro tore his hand from Tyler’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Tyler nodded and turned, walking towards the beach.

“Bye guys,” Lindsay said, slightly confused.

“Bye!” Tyler waved his hand backwards.

~~~

Heather snorted. “What is with your hair?”

Alejandro looked up, as if he could actually see his own hair. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You don’t even have enough hair to do a ponytail so you only did half of it. You look ridiculous, Alejandro.”

“Hey! It’s a style,” Tyler defended. “It’s a half-up-half-down.” He turned to Lindsay. “Right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it works that well with his hair type-”

“I think he looks cute!” Tyler yelled, a little too loudly.

Alejandro stood still.

Lindsay stood still.

Heather gave Tyler an eyebrow raise. “You mean the hairstyle looks good?”

“Yeah!” He exclaimed, now a little nervous as he took in his friends’ stares.

Alejandro stood up straight. “Yeah, Heather. Tyler likes it. It’s clearly just a you problem.”

“Well, I-” Lindsay butted in.

“Come on Tyler, we have a game to play.”

The two of them walked off, leaving Heather and Lindsay alone.

“God, what an idiot,” Heather insulted.

“Don’t talk about Tyler like that!”

“Not Tyler,” Heather rolled her eyes, “Alejandro.”

“What?”

“He’s so stupid for not noticing.”

“Noticing what?”

“You are too.”

“What?”

~~~

“And guess what?” Lindsay asked, through mouthfuls of popcorn. “She said my nail polish was cheap! Cheap! I never spare a dime when it comes to accessorizing, she knows that.”

“You should cut her off,” Alejandro advised.

“I guess,” Lindsay said. “But seriously!” She shot her hands in the air, hitting Tyler straight in the nose.

Alejandro fell backwards and off of the footrest he had been sitting on. “Oughhh.”

“Tyler!” Alejandro stood up. “Are you alright?”

Alejandro held a hand out to Tyler and pulled him back onto the footrest.

“I-I like girls!”

Alejandro chuckled, and continued to hold his hand. “I know.”

Lindsay looked between the two.

Tyler looked down at Alejandro’s hand before letting go.

“By the way, what time is it?” Alejandro asked.

“Nine,” Lindsay responded.

“Oh, I have to go. See you, Tyler.”

“Bye Al!”

Alejandro grunted, walking away.

Lindsay waited until she heard a door open and shut, and then turned to Tyler.

“Do you have a thing for him?”

“What?” Tyler asked. “No, I don’t, nah, we’re just friends.” He waved his arms around in denial.

“You totally like him! Eee!”

“Do not!”

“Do too! The other day you said he was cute, and today you said you like girls when he helped you up. You totally like him!”

“Aw man,” Tyler sighed. “I do. But only a little!”

Lindsay squealed and gave Tyler a hug. “Yay! You should ask him out!”

“No way! He’s so out of my league.”

“I’m out of your league, but you dated me. Why is he any different?”

“Hey!”

#fanfiction #fanfic #total drama #td #oneshot #aletyler #td tyler #td alejandro #tyler td #alejandro td #total drama tyler #total drama alejandro #tyler total drama #alejandro total drama #natie fics #natie hometown fics

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scepterno · 1 year ago

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i love ur fic so much ive been hyperfixating on it for like two weeks 😢😢 can i have some little trivia facts about some of the characters please i need to know silly stuff u haven't told us!!

omg.. ty... this is the sort of message that gives me life I LOVE SILLY TRIVIA

gwen and trent probably hang out the most from the original cast (minus anyone living together or dating). gwen has her own room in her parent's house dedicated to painting and trent will chill there on a bean bag in the corner writing music while she paints. now that she and courtney are dating, courtney visits way more to study in that chair while gwen works (they take breaks to make out and cuddle very often) gwen's little brother thinks trent is a huge loser and wishes duncan would hang out around the house more instead (courtney bullies him on trent's behalf)

cody lives in a dorm room on campus at his college. sierra goes to the same college but still lives with her mom (she has an hour long commute) she and cody hang out on campus and hang out in a lot of the same clubs and friend groups (mostly nerdy stuff)

harold is a speedrunning streamer and video editor for popular youtube channels. they make music for fun but wants to make professional music for indie games one day.

leshawna really loves to do community service (canon in the show) but i like to think she somehow managed to drag duncan into it too (his parole officer approves) so they get really close through that. he also ends up being dragged to a bunch of family events and parties with leshawna. like an honorary brother who acts like he doesnt want to be there but is super good with all the kids and is never actually disrespectful to the adults. leshawna's parents adore him. he's never been more well fed in his life.

zoe mike and cameron are all living their best lives with the all stars money zoe/mike earned. mike and cameron live together but zoe lives in an apartment with 5 roommates near her community college. they live within 10 minutes of bus so distance isn't an issue at all. they're practically inseparable.

scott and courtney are actually pretty good friends still (they never dated in all stars in this fic) and text regularly. scott moved back home after the show so he's not really near anyone else from the casts, but that's more of a blessing than anything considering the wacky hijinks everyone gets into on the regular.

i think ezekiel lindsay beth and tyler probably hang out a lot when lindsay and tyler aren't traveling around the world to fashion shows and whatnot. zeke got super into thrifting fashion because of lindsay. he's like. bowling alley employee fashion. you know. and although he's not really good at sports, tyler still likes to have "boys nights" and take him to games. they have a tradition of buying and rating the hot dogs at every stadium they visit, and buying souvenirs for lindsay.

alejandro really wants a lizard tattoo but he's very sensitive to pain and would definitely cry, so he's avoided getting one until he can find a tattoo artist who won't judge him for sobbing in the chair. he learned his lesson the hard way when he got his nose piercing and nearly broke carlos's hand because he was so scared (it didn't really hurt that bad, but nerves make everything worse).

josé has a quarter collection (like, the united states quarters, because there's a different one for every state). it's a good excuse to travel and get out of the house (or country) for a weekend retreat.

okay that's pretty much all i have in me right now (i have a meeting to go to at work) but if you want to hear anything for a specific character or headcanon, i would LOVE to share my thoughts!!!!

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themultifandomgal · 2 years ago

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Jay- Meeting Him

"Right listen up" Voight shouts standing next to me in the ballpen "this is Detective YLN. She is joining us in intelligence" I give everyone a little wave, they acknowledge me in some way whether that is a wave or a little head nod "Halstead she's with you"

"Got it" the guy Halstead says standing up. Voight turns around to leave but then suddenly stops

"And Jay keep it in your pants" he then walks away leaving me alone with the group

"I guess your my new partner. Jay Halsead" he holds out his hand for me to shake

"YN YLN. It's good to meet you"

"I'll introduce you to everyone. This is Erin Lindsay, Adam Ruzek and Antonio Dawson"

"It's good to meet you all. Could you tell me which desk is free?" I ask looking around the room

"This one next to me is free" Jay points to a free desk

"Thank you" I walk over to the free desk. I take my coat off and put my bag down at the desk. Switching on the computer I sit down as Jay walks over to me with some files

"Could use your insight. Voight said you were one of the best in at LAPD. Said you put away the most criminals on your team"

"Let's have a look then" I nod towards the files trying to get the attention off me

"The chameleon, also known at Dexter Holmes, we know he's involved in the Chicago drug trade, problem is we have no evidence"

"So we get evidence" Jay gives me a 'well duh' look "I don't think your following me. We go get evidence" I open up the files and flick through them and notice a club that Dexter is often at "this is how we will catch him. We go to the club, do a deal then arrest him"

"He knows our faces though YN"

"Not mine"

"No. Not a chance. Your first day and you already want to get killed?" Jay shakes his head

"I've done worse undercover" I cross my arms

"Voight won't sign off on it"

Voight signed it off and now I'm stood in the club in a little back dress, heals on and an ear piece in that so happens to look like an ear cuff. I take a drink from the barman and lean against the bar waiting to be told dexter has entered

"Can't believe Voight said yes to this" I roll my eyes although he can't see me

"YN we have eyes on him. Entering now" I hear Erin say, that's when I make my move taking a drink for him with me

"Be carful YN" Voight tells me. I put on my best fake smile and walk over to Dexter

"Hello handsome, drink?" I hold out the drink to him

"I've not seen you here before. Who are you?"

"Sorry so silly of me. I'm Mia, just moved here and I was told that this club had the best drinks, men and... other things" I look him up and down

"Well your not wrong" he looks me up and down "what do you want?"

"What would you say if I said all of the above" I smile flirtatiously

"I'd say follow me"

"What the hell is she doing?" I hear Jay says in the ear piece. I follow Dexter to a back room where he pushes me against a wall and starts kissing my neck. I fake a moan as his hands go around my waist

"How about a little kick to make this better?" he say

"Of course" Dexter then pulls out a little bag of drugs "normally you pay in money. You can pay me anyway you want"

"Now" I say and Jay, Voight, Erin and Antonio burst through the back door or the door we entered

"Put your hand up Dexter, the game is over" Voight says before making the arrest.

That evening we all arrive at a bar called Mollys and I end up meeting some of the firemen and doctors in the city

"What a first day huh" Adam nudges me

"That was nothing compared to a few years ago. My partner and I were undercover. Basically someone was a double agent and was working for a human trafficking ring. Turns out it was my partner and I was shot by him"

"Holy shit" Erin breathes out

"Hey I got a sick scar from it"

"Where is it?" Jay asks

"Wouldn't you like to know" I joke

"Ooo is it on your ass?" Erin wiggles her eyebrows

"I don't know, maybe, maybe not"

"I'm gonna have fun working with you. I can already tell" Jay laughs taking a sip of his drink

"Me too" I smile feeling excited for this new start.

#jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #jay halstead x yn #one chicago #chicago pd #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead x you

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vivianbernadetteaurora · 9 months ago

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Nicole Richie pop royalty pop culture royalty

As a story goes with Nicole Ritchie, when she was very young, she was on stage with Prince well backstage, concert with her parents at the time or one of her parents I don’t know there’s not too much written about her parents, especially the father, who is supposedly part of his part of his music the dad was part of music or part of the band, and was seen by Lionel Richie and his wife, Cherie, she wasn’t being attended or looked after very well and they had an agreement where they looked after her, because the parents couldn’t or didn’t take the responsibility with her, I’ve heard some people say that Lionel Richie is her father. He just got a groupie pregnant or something to that knowledge all that degree but in pop culture to me Nicole Richie is bigger or just as big as Paris and Lindsey., not literally because look at the size of her she say little and small, this is partly because she was being compared to Paris Hilton who is literally as fit as a stick and especially was even more so back learning the 2000, they came onto our screen in around 2004 roughly, where to rich girls from Beverly Hills different tasks in small towns and lived without as much money at all and had to work for things they weren’t allowed any credit card cards or shopping spree,

Anyway She was an adopted by Lionel Richie and his wife and they took her on full-time. They had a temporary adverse, but they wanted to be a stability in her life and she enjoyed being around them too ! Nicole always says what a good dad she has and how they’ve been looked after her and her younger sister always say how good Lionel always is dad so I think that says a lot because that is a lack of good father out there .

So Nicole Ritchie wasn’t the original choice with Paris Hilton to go on the simple life. It was either going to be Kimberley Stewart, maybe Keith and Kim Kardashian., maybe even her sister Nikki, but Nikki didn’t like the same like Paris does, a so then Nicole was a choice for the show and later seasons fingers grew as tensions between the two was thicker , anyway going back to the weight because it’s important she was constantly being compared to Hilton in interviews everything and I think this really struggled even though she didn’t ever met her or show any of her weaknesses , she was very confident but she had literally come out of rehab for heroin addiction and other addictions and her , gone up and she was a normal size slim girl , for us growing up in error like even looking back now myself I was fat I wasn’t fit but I wasn’t definitely wasn’t fat , we get compared to goes and we compare ourselves to girls in pictures or don’t wanna be photographed next to someone who likes a lot skinnier than us sometimes it can be triggering ,

After this simple life or jury, but definitely after she was friendly with the designer Rachel Zo , who made the whole bohemian look a massive thing in the mid to late 2000s and early 20 tens , everyone had this look at this time Vanessa Hudgens Selena Gomez but mainly it would be Nicole Ritchie and Rachel though and someone likes Sienna Miller it was so popular everyone had something in their closet that , Even if they weren’t heavily into that look was a part of it even if it was just a bag that had that feature to it or earrings but there was so many different skirts and dresses and jewellery lots of bangles, heavy bangles, wooden bangles, clothing and fashion revival .

The younger generation the younger generation don’t remember Nicole Richie as someone is pivotal because she wasn’t in the films like Lindsay Lohan and she wasn’t as prominent and out there maybe as Paris Hilton , was part of the holy Trinity of those free. Let’s chuck Britney Spears in there even though it doesn’t up.

#nicole richie #2000s core #lionel richie #2000s aesthetic #the simple life

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tooti-fruiti · 7 months ago

Text

PLAYING WITH YOUR HEART (CHAPTER ONE)

Walk like an Egyptian

"Singing? Really?! I thought Chris was joking about that." Gwen said as you all walked inside the plane.

"Well I don't have a problem with it." Courtney said.

"Yeah, cause you LIKE singing!" Leshawna said.

"Well I don't!" Duncan said. "Girls sing, little birdies sing, Duncan's do not sing!"

"I'm with you Courtney, I don't have a problem with it either." You said.

"See?!"

"Think I'll get to beat box?" Harold asked.

"I'll beat you if you try." Duncan glared at him.

"Why are you doing this to us?!" Heather demanded.

Chris chuckled. "Singing reality shows are HUGE! AND, the worse the singing: the higher the ratings! Which is why on this show, there will be no vocal coaches, or rehearsals, or warnings!"

Almost everyone started complaining.

"Anywho, this is the dining area. Where you'll enjoy in flight meals."

"Not for long, ay? Prepare to lose to the Zeke!"

"Okay, so not trying to be mean here, but you do know you got voted out first last time, right?" Gwen asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Word. I spent every minute since making sure that don't happen again. I'm stronger, faster, smarter-"

"Chattier, blabbier, can't shut up-ier. Now zip it and let me finish the tour so we can get this bird in flight!"

"Is there a ladies room?" Leshawna asked.

"Just through there."

"Good, cause I need to make a deposit." She said as she walked towards the bathroom.

"Anyway." Chris said. "Let's carry on with the tour!"

Leshawna walked out of the bathroom annoyed and Chris smiled. "Follow me!"

He then lead all of you to a room with benches. "Here, losing teams will enjoy the luxury of the economy class between destinations."

"Okay, but where are our beds?" Lindsay asked.

"Owen? Care to demonstrate?" Chris asked as he turned to Owen, who was strapped to the wall asleep.

"That does NOT look comfortable." Heather said.

"No comfort for losers! Safety harnesses and an emergency exit, but no comfort here or here." Chris said pointing around the room.

Sierra started to laugh. "OMG Chris, I am just LOL!"

"Okay...she's a little weird." You whispered and Noah nodded.

"We should hit the winner's compartment, ay? Cause I ain't NEVER gonna sit back here!"

"Is never your policy on mouthwash too, homeschool?" Noah said.

"You wanna see the winner's compartment huh? Well right this way, ladies and gentlemen."

Chris led you all to much nicer room with yellow chairs and a rug.

"This is the first class cabin! The domain of each week's winners."

You sat down in one of the seats and sighed. "Oh wow, these are nice..." You smiled and leaned back.

"So nice..." Courtney said.

"And that's pretty much it." Chris said. "Let's go back to the dining cabin and I'll explain how this season is going to work."

Once you all made it back to the dining cabin, you all sat down.

Then the plane started moving and Bridgette fell into Alejandro's lap.

"Senorita, are you alright?" He asked.

"Is the earth moving?"

"Nope! We are!" Izzy cheered.

You smiled and clapped your hands together. "This is a little exciting, an all around the world tour! Sure, we have to do challenges and shit, but we still get to see beautiful places!"

"Well, when you look at it like that, I guess it is a little exciting." Bridgette said as she got out of Alejandro's lap.

"One more thing!" Chris said.

"I'm sure you all remember a little thing called the "elimination ceremony". Takes place just over here." Chris said as he pointed to a room.

You all went inside and Chris started explaining how the elimination ceremony would work.

"If you don't receive a barf bag full of peanuts-"

"I got a peanut allergy, yo! Er- more like a sensitivity?" Ezekiel said, cutting off Chris.

"You'll be forced to take the drop of shame."

"Okay, I just don't like-"

"Kind of like this!" Chris said, tossing Ezekiel out of the plane.

Chris chuckled and closed the door. "Glad that's over with. Now! Enjoy your flight everyone!"

Chris walked away and you all walked back into the dining cabin.

"Every second we go closer to adventure, and further...from mama..." DJ said sadly.

"Mama?" You asked.

"Oh yeah." Leshawna said. "Big ol' DJ here's a real mama's boy."

"Oh, gotcha." You said.

"Cody Emmett James Anderson. I also happen to know your birthday is on April first! You're my very own April fool." Sierra said.

"Okay, that's creepy." You said.

"Very." Courtney nodded.

Suddenly, a little bell rang and Chris showed up under a spotlight wearing a suit.

"Whenever you hear that little bell, it's musical number time! So! Let's hear it!"

You all looked around confused.

"But, what are we supposed to sing?" Courtney asked.

"You have to make it up as you go. Wouldn't be challenging otherwise, now would it?"

You all sighed and Courtney began to sing.

•

After Duncan finally decided to sing, the song ended.

Chris was reading a newspaper and the P.A. system turned on.

"Enough singing, fruitcakes! Strap yourselves in!" Chef Hatchet said. "We are now beginning our desent into Egypt!...Musical numbers, worst idea ever. Chris is such an idiot."

Chris gasped.

"Hey, why's the P.A. light still on?...oh shit..."

Then Chef turned the P.A. system off and Chris frowned. "I'll be right back."

You all started to giggle as he left.

•

You all got off the plane when it landed in Egypt and looked around.

Then Chris was carried towards you on a tombstone and he wore an Egyptian costume.

"You guys ready to have some fun? Huh?"

He took a sip of his drink and smiles. "Wow, it's a scorcher out here, huh?"

Then he tossed his drink away. "I call today's challenge: 'Pyramid Over Under'!"

"An eleven hour flight, Chef's in-flight cuisine, a forced musical number, and NOW we have a challenge?!" Leshawna yelled.

"Don't you just love this game?" Chris smiled.

After Chris showed to you the starting point for the challenge, Harold wiped his forehead and groaned.

"It's like being cooked in a giant oven..."

"It might help if you weren't dressed like a giant baked potato." Leshawna crossed her arms.

"Aluminum foil means the aliens can't read your brains, it's a real problem in this area."

Suddenly, Chris hit two symbols together and everyone flinched.

"Man! That's satisfying! Alright! Pyramid Over Under means you can choose to go over or under the pyramid to get to the finish line. Got it?"

Everyone nodded.

"Ready, set, g-"

"Wait up!" Ezekiel yelled.

You all turned around surprised.

Ezekiel was left behind in Canada.

"I told you I wasn't gonna lose this time, ay?!"

"Didn't we leave you in Halifax, or White Horse, or...whatever?" Chris groaned.

"It's called landing gear, homie! I climbed it, and hid in the cargo hold!"

"Impressive!...You're still out."

"No way! I'm in it to win it!"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Hey, it's your funeral."

"Set, Go!" Chris yelled before crashing the symbols again.

You all started running and you decided to go over the Pyramid.

As you were climbing up, Alejandro hopped up to the stone you were on and knelt down to your height.

"Need any help, Senorita?"

You pushed yourself up onto the rock and groaned. "No, I'm good, thanks."

•

Video Diary-Number 1-(Y/n)

"While having an alliance would be beneficial, I don't know anyone that well.

I mean, sure, I watched the previous seasons. But those were a year ago. People change.

And I'm not going to assume anything about anyone. Plus, with the other two new people, it's best that I play this safe for now.

So I'm going to keep to myself for a few days before I decide who to make an alliance with."

•

Alejandro shrugged and turned before hopping off the rock.

As you kept climbing you saw Gwen and Courtney fighting with Duncan in between.

He looked absolutely miserable.

Then you saw Alejandro carrying Bridgette and Lindsay on his shoulders.

"Show off..." You mumbled.

Then you saw Tyler fall all the way down the Pyramid.

You winced. "Tyler! You okay?!"

He raised his hand and gave you a thumbs up so you kept climbing.

As you reached the top, you could hear Courtney and Gwen arguing.

"Okay that's it! We need to untie!"

"No way! That's dangerous!"

"I don't care if it's dangerous! I'm sick of your shit and I need to get away from you!"

You tried to crawl around them but you lost your footing and ended up sliding down the pyramid.

You screamed as you slid down before getting a face full of sand.

"Oh, and you get her too." Chris said.

Alejandro mumbled something before helping you out of the sand.

"That was quite the fall, are you alright?" He asked.

You groaned and shook the sand out of your hair.

"Yeah...I'm fine."

Heather, Sierra, and Cody ran out from under the pyramid as Alejandro moved to you where the rest of your team was standing.

"We did it! Group hug!" Sierra cheered as she squeezed Cody. "C'mon Heath, you too!"

Heather walked over and hugged Sierra looking really uncomfortable.

"Aaand hug's over." Chris said. "Sierra, go stand with Alejandro and (Y/n). Heather and Cody, go stand behind number three."

"In Egyptian, it's-"

"No one cares Harold." Chris glared at him.

"Where's Gwen?" Cody asked. "N-Not that I care or anything, just curious."

Chris looked at the top of the pyramid and saw Courtney and Gwen still arguing at the top.

He grabbed a megaphone and played the bell sound.

"Ohhh kiiiiids!" He called out. "Recognize that sound? Time for whoever's not finished to yet to give us a musical reprise!"

"You said one song per episode!" Duncan yelled.

"Yeah! And this a reprise, not a new song! So if you don't sing, you're out! Now let's hear it!"

"You know what?! No!"

Duncan jumped down the mountain still attached to Gwen and Courtney. "No! No! No! No! No!"

"Three hours of these two bitching on the top of this goddamn pyramid, in the stupid ass heat, and you want me to fucking sing?! FORGET IT!"

"Dude, you have a contract-"

"SUCK MY DICK, MCCLAIN! If you need me, I'll be in the plane waiting for a ride home because I'm out, done. I. FUCKING. QUIT!"

Duncan then cut the rope he was attached to and stormed off.

"Well damn, okay then." You said.

Cody helped Gwen stand up as Izzy ran out of the pyramid carrying a body.

"IZZY NO!" Owen yelled.

"YOU'RE CARRYING THE UNDEAD!"

"Cool!" She said as she turned to the body. "Bite me and I'll be your undead friend like Frankenstein!"

The body jumped out of her arms and ripped off it's bandages, revealing to be Ezekiel.

"Thanks for all the help, you knobs!" He groaned.

Chris glared at Ezekiel before smiling at Izzy.

"Izzy, go stand behind-"

"talata. Or three." Harold said, which made Chris groan.

"Come on guy!" Ezekiel said as Izzy joined team three. "After all this, you gotta let me back in the game!"

Chris sighed. "Alright! Fine! Go join team one."

"Wait!" Heather said. "We're down a player!"

"You can thank Duncan Mcquitty Pants for that."

"Now! Teams, talk amongst yourselves amd come up with a team name. You have three minutes!"

"Team Victory!" Team One shouted.

"Team Amazon!" Team Three shouted.

Meanwhile, your team was still struggling to come up with a name.

"Oh! Got it!" Sierra said. "Team Chris is really really really really hot!"

"What?"

"Best team name ever! Alright, and here are your rewards!"

"Team Amazon, you get a camel! Team Chris is really really really really really hot,"

"I think there were only four reallys." Alejandro said.

"You guys get a goat! And team Victory, here ya go." Chris said as he gave everyone their rewards.

"So the guys who come in last get a camel, they get a goat, and we get a stick?!" Leshawna yelled.

"All will be explained."

Chris smiled. "If I feel like it."

[Hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned for more and have a good day]

<-Prologue

Chapter Two->

#total drama #total drama world tour #total drama alejandro #alejandro #alejandro x reader #x reader #self insert #female reader #love #fanfiction #total drama fanfiction

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