#sorry for the smudges I drew this a while back

[pasteldaifuku]

Hatsooza Miku

[lady-djarin]

independent contractor

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

fully inspired by this post

warnings/tags: no outbreak au, no sarah mentioned, but we can always pretend she’s at collage or something, infidelity by reader(reader’s hubby is an asshole), contractor!joel, age gap (late 20s/mid 50s) , masterbation (m), smelling of panties(?), sexting, oral (receiving), p in v (unprotected- don’t do that!!) general smut so children leave!! mdni 18+

word count: 6.1k

a/n: i understand not everyone is going to dig the infidelity thing so i get that, if you are not into that please just scroll on, thank you :)

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was a beautiful dress but damn if it wasn’t complicated, the back had all these complicated buttons and clasps to hold it closed. You had managed to get yourself into the thin fabric but just as you needed your husband to close the dress, he had conveniently disappeared. He had been dressed for the party for a while and had been running around the house trying to organize the vendors. It was all for some charity thing he was throwing through his company. He was the CEO of some big company that even after 5 years of marriage you still didn’t understand. Something to do with finance? Maybe.

“Hon? Are you up here?” You huffed as you realized he was not in ear shot. Your husband had a habit of doing this, leaving right when you needed him in favor of something he needed.

You can now admit to yourself that the marriage you were in was a little rushed. Ok, maybe more than rushed. You were engaged within three months of meeting and married in less than a year. The first year of marriage was amazing, he would shower you with gifts and trips and practically worshiped the ground you walk on. It now felt like he only did this to rope you in. He began to take multiple long ‘work trips’ every month and you soon found evidence of an affair (or multiple). Once, there was long hair all over his clothes that was definitely not his or yours along with red lipstick smudged on a white shirt. Was he not even trying to hide it or did he just not care?

You had always told yourself that ‘you’d never be with a cheater’ and you wouldn’t fall prey to men who used women. Well, after a quick marriage, that you begged your parents to go along with, you felt like you had nowhere else to go. Your parents would not be happy and would surely find a way to blame you, and all your friends were also his. So, you kept your head high as your husband did as he pleased. You were now a forgotten trophy on the shelf he felt didn’t need polishing anymore. So you did as you pleased, with his money. One of the things you liked spending his money on was renovations to the house that you were usually alone in.

Currently, you were renovating the other side of the house to become a library/craft area for yourself. The contractor was actually at the house doing a walk through before the party got started. He happened to hear you calling for your husband from down the hall and came to your rescue.

“Sorry to disturb you ma’am, I think he went downstairs,” he was looking down when he first walked in, probably to make sure you were decent. What a gentleman.

“Of course he did, uhg,” you fumbled with the clasps behind your back and failed to make a difference.

“I can go get ‘em for ya?”

“No that’s ok Joel, thank you,” Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction. He had been so great from the beginning, knowing exactly what you wanted for the library, seeing your vision immediately. He was very much the southern Texan gentleman, ‘yes ma’am, no ma’am’, no matter how many times you told him you hated it. “and please, Joel. I’m not a ma’am.” Your smile drew his eyes up.

”My mama would kill me if she heard me call ya’ anythin’ but, ma’am,” he stepped into the room, already coming to help even with your refusal. “I’m more delicate than ya think, im sure i can handle some buttons,” he came up behind you in the mirror and his soft touch on your shoulder blade made you inhale. You held the dress against your chest making sure he had room to fasten the small clasps. You caught his gaze in the mirror that was fixated on the dip in the front of the dress.

He matched your smile.

His surprisingly nimble fingers secure every last fastening and it feels like you can hear your own heart beating out of your chest. It had been a long time since you were looked at the way Joel was looking at you. He was a handsome man, big and rugged but soft in his features. He had these deep brown eyes that you could get lost in and lips that would make a nun blush. He was affecting you in ways your husband hadn’t done in years, he was turning you on. A complete stranger was turning you on and you didn’t really feel guilty.

Did that make you a terrible person?

You know what, fuck it. Your husband cheated and left you alone in life, you were entitled to some flirting every now and then.

“There ya are darlin’,” dear lord, his voice. The deep southern drawl made your panties wet.

“Thank you… Joel.”

”Enjoy the party,” watching him walk away was the hardest thing all night, aside from having to laugh at all your husband’s bad jokes all night. All night your mind was occupied by the sexy contractor.

~

It had been about a week since the party and the library reno was well underway. Joel and his team, including the other half of Miller Construction, his brother Tommy, were working tirelessly. In that last week your husband had been in and out of the house at weird times. On this particular day he left early in the morning without saying so much as a word to you. You used the day to mope around on your phone or read but what kept stealing your attention was the attractive contractor.

His team wasn’t around so the house was truly empty, the quiet was starting to drive you mad. As you wandered up the winding staircase, you found a sweatshirt draped over the railing. That damn husband, he leaves shit everywhere. Without thinking much of it, you threw the hoodie on as you found the library under construction.

The sweatshirt smells like sawdust and something distinctly man. That's different from what your husband normally smells like. The thought of him buying new cologne for some mistress almost made your blood boil, if you truly loved him anymore it would.

The library was really starting to come together, the plans on the table laid out the new shelves and built in table being put in and you dreamed of the days you would spend in there. The rest of your day was spent inside, no husband in sight so you did what you wanted, camped out on the couch with snacks galore and bad tv. Your husband eventually came home, after midnight, to find you passed out on the couch. You were roused by him, he woke you to send you off to bed. He used to carry you.

“Hey, get to bed, it's late… New hoodie?” Your eyebrows narrowed and you looked at him confused.

“What? It’s yours?”

”No it's not, I don't work at ‘Miller Construction’…” his tone felt like sandpaper against your skin. Also, have you been wearing Joel’s sweatshirt this whole time?

~

You wore it almost every day. Refusing to even wash it, it would get rid of the smell. The smell of him. It was like a drug, anytime your husband left you alone in that big house you wrapped yourself in Joel.

The rumble of the engine told you someone was at the house, but the deep southern drawl was what told you it was Joel. You felt giddy, like a girl with her first crush. You were already wearing the sweatshirt because you were expecting him today. He was leading his team of guys up to the library, telling them what to get started on. You made your way up there, under the guise of greeting Joel and asking if they need anything. In reality you wanted to see his reaction to you wearing his clothes.

“Morning Joel, you guys need anything?”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. He noticed right away, scanning the hoodie and his gaze set your skin on fire. You felt your cheeks heat up as he stepped closer, the air was thick with tension and you immediately felt the mood change. His lips curved up in the corner slightly as he lowered his voice.

He looked handsome as always, the salt and pepper in his beard and hair was somehow very attractive to you. He was older for sure but you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t part of the attraction.

“Nice sweatshirt you got there…,” you could practically feel his heart beating just inches from you. “Miller.”

You had to strangle down a breath hearing his voice drop an octave like that, teasing you. This was real… Joel Miller, your contractor, was flirting with you. And you liked it, a lot. Not only the blatantly wrong flirting but the fact that your husband could come home at any time. It was making your skin flush with arousal and it felt like he could sense it somehow.

“I can wash it and get it back to you,” you wanted to gauge how into this he was. He did not disappoint.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jesus christ.

“Keep it sugar, looks better on ya anyway,” he left you there, finally with enough room to breathe without inhaling his intoxicating cologne. Holy shit, holy shit!

Your mind never strayed far from the older man, you seemed to fixate on the memory of him crowding you in your own home. The rest of the day went smoothly, you went about your business as the Miller Construction crew worked on your new library. You could hear the men working upstairs and every time you heard that one specific rumbling southern drawl your heart stopped for just a beat.

You were screwed.

~

Joel’s day could not have been longer, though he was the only one that noticed. The rest of the crew worked through the day, trying to get their tasks done sooner rather than later to be able to go home on time. Meanwhile, he was thinking about the pretty wife of the man who is paying him. He knew it was wrong but damn if it didn’t feel good. He saw the way your husband acted around you the last few weeks, he was engaged in every conversation except ones with you. Joel could even tell that the man was cheating, he clearly wasn’t trying to hide it. That’s really the only reason he was letting himself indulge with you, that and you seemed to be on the same page as him.

He knew he was in trouble, he had already memorized your features, your lips haunting him most of all. Every time you spoke he was entranced, unable to look away from your mouth. This was so wrong, he was working for you and your husband. He couldn’t help it, you were perfect, everything he could ever want. He dreamed about feeling you under him and that thought kept him half hard in his jeans all day.

By the time he was set to leave he felt like if he didn’t get himself taken care of he was going to explode. All he could think about was you in that damn hoodie, and how he would bend you over with it on. He knew it would smell like you now, it would smell like both of you. As he hopped into his truck he was so distracted that he didn’t see you coming down the driveway towards his car.

“Hey Joel…” Fuck. “I just wanted to get this back to you before I forget.” The gray fabric already smelled like you from where you held it by his car window. Why were you giving it back? He told you to keep it.

”Oh thanks darlin’,” it wasn’t lost on him how your eyes sparkled at this nickname. You were in the most delicious little shorts, showing just enough of the tops of your thighs as you walked back into the house. Fuck, he felt like such a dirty old man. You were so much younger and bright and kind. He felt like he could never deserve you.

He threw the hoodie on the passenger seat as he felt another surge of guilt and arousal settle into this stomach. Just as he was about to pull onto the street, he noticed something much darker than the hoodie sticking out of the pocket. He pulled it to reveal a pair of lacy black panties.

His heart nearly stopped. He would have never expected this, a sweet girl like you leaving her panties in her contractors sweatshirt. His jeans became even tighter than before as he pulled the panties up to his face.

He really was a dirty old man.

They had clearly been worn and it made his head spin, they smelled like heaven and you, he worried he might cum at the smell alone. He needed to get home.

As he raced home with your underwear gripped in his hand, he battled his thoughts. He knew it was wrong to mess around with a married woman but he felt different with you already. You were like the light at the end of his very lonely tunnel, no one ever looked at him the way you did. He practically tore his front door off the hinges as he rushed up to his bedroom. He felt like a teenager with an uncontrollable boner trying to find release.

The black lace was tight in his grip as he shucked his jeans off, the constricting fabric making his blood boil. He pulled himself free and the first touch to his hard length caused a gravely moan to slip from his lips. Tension and heat gathered in his stomach as he stroked himself. His fingers were rough as they circled his weeping tip but he needed to feel relief. He couldn’t even get himself into the shower, he just dropped onto the edge of his bed and never stopped moving his hand.

Those dark panties were teasing him, you were teasing him. You had to be, maybe you were making fun of his obvious crush. No, there was no way you would have grinned like you did if you didn’t feel the same way. It was an offering, a way for you to make a move without being apparent.

Holy shit. You wanted him.

That made his lower muscles spasm suddenly and his orgasm started to barrel down his spine. He pictured you in your small shorts earlier that day and he lost it. A deep groan escaped his throat as he spilled all over his knuckles. He pumped until he was oversensitive, his whole body reacting until he fell back into the bed.

All night his brain juggled wanting nothing but you and telling himself it was wrong. And it was wrong, at least on paper, of course he shouldn’t be messing with a client's wife. Even if she wanted him back.

~

Last time you saw Joel outside his car was almost a week ago. It was driving you crazy. You worried that he took it the wrong way or didn’t even see them. You couldn’t decide if you should be mortified, nervous, turned on or all the above. Then your phone went off.

Usually the texts between you and Joel were regarding what materials or paint you wanted. Now it was something totally different.

5:04PM >Joel: Sorry I have not been to check on the progress of the library personally. There was an emergency at another job.

>Joel: Also, thank you for my gift.

Only someone like Joel would thank you for sneaking him a pair of your panties.

5:09PM <You: im glad you liked them

<You: i was a little worried…

Your heart was thundering in your chest. Your husband was right across the couch, engrossed in his baseball game more than you, per usual. Was it wrong to like this so much, the fact that he had no idea you were texting another man right now, in front of him.

5:12PM >Joel: Why would you be worried? It's the best gift anyone’s ever given me.

>Joel: Any man should be so lucky.

Your pulse kicked up again somehow. He was making it all sound so meaningful. Maybe it was to him. Maybe he never took it the wrong way. Maybe he took it exactly the right way.

5:14PM <You: did you use them?

There was a pause for a few minutes.

5:20PM >Joel: Jesus…

>Joel: I’m at work, darlin.

5:22PM <You: so?

5:25PM >Joel: You got a mouth on you, huh?

5:26PM <You: and i know how to use it

5:28PM >Joel: We might just have to have you prove yourself then.

5:30PM <You: just tell me when

5:31PM >Joel: You are dangerous, angel.

>Joel: I have them in my pocket right now.

>Joel: I couldn’t help myself.

Jesus, this man was going to be the death of you. He was carrying your panties around in his pocket, while he was at work. Your thighs instantly squeezed together and it was at that moment you decided.

Fuck it, he made you feel good and your husband clearly didn’t care about your needs. You needed a divorce, and not just because of Joel. It was about you finally doing what’s good for you.

Suddenly an idea came to you, admititly a very bad idea but again, fuck it.

5:36PM <You: hey, do you have any plans tonight?

5:37PM >Joel: You know darlin, I don’t.

Thank god.

5:38PM <You: what’s your address?

5:38PM >Joel: 7 Oak Village Rd. I get home at 7.

5:38PM <You: see you then

You needed a plan. Your husband wouldn’t really care if you made last minute plans, you just needed a reason. Since he barely takes the time to pay attention to you, he definitely doesn’t know your friends very well.

“Hey, I know this is super random, but my friend Ashley”(totally a fake friend) “just got dumped, Isn’t that awful? She wants me to come over so she’s not alone. Would you care if I spent the night with her?”

It wasn’t really an odd thing, you spent the night with friends before. You should feel bad for lying so easily like this but the thrill of it all was keeping you going. You knew he wouldn’t object but he barely even looked at you. A quick glance back before he focused on the tv again as he waved you off.

”Yea, I don’t care… Johnny’s coming over anyway. Have fun.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, you knew you should be upset but you were too used to it at this point. You went upstairs to pack a bag and get ready. It had been a long time since a booty call and you forgot how giddy it made you feel. Knowing you were going to a man's house who actually wanted you there and actually wanted you.

Once you showered and finished packing, you went down to head out the garage. Apparently while you were upstairs Johnny and many more came over and had taken over the couch as they all debated over some play in the game. You tried to get your husband's attention, calling his name and waving at him. Anger boiled over in your gut. Just another reason not to feel guilty about tonight.

You loaded up into the car and pulled out of the massive driveway without a regret in your heart. This was the beginning of a new chapter and it felt right in so many ways. Your skin was buzzing with arousal, you had been thinking of Joel’s thick hands that would soon be on you, throughout your whole shower.

Before you left the neighborhood you sent Joel a quick text.

7:13PM <You: on my way

7:14PM >Joel: Can’t wait.

You felt the heat creep up into your cheeks and down your neck. Your nerves did start to wear on you though, all the usual stuff; Will he like me? Do I look nice? Did I miss a spot shaving my legs? You decided to wear a thin silk slip dress/nightgown under a baggy zip up hoodie. You figured it was a good way to look ‘sloppy’ enough that your husband wouldn’t care, if he even looked your way. You made the short drive over to Joel’s neighborhood and your nerves seemed to melt away as you got closer. It was odd, normally this kind of thing would send your pulse skyrocketing but the thought of seeing Joel made you calm, almost serene. He definitely made your head swim with giddy arousal though.

You found the beautiful house marked ‘No. 7’ and knocked on the perfectly painted door. Of course his house was gorgeous, he was a contractor. Only moments went by until the door was pulled open by that very sexy looking contractor. His brown curls were slightly messy on his head and he wore some kind of faded shirt and loose sweatpants that hung way too low. You couldn’t look away.

“Hi darlin’,” he rubbed his neck and his cheeks went red. He was nervous.

“Hi,” you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your face.

“Come in, here let me.” He gently took your bag from your shoulder and guided you to the couch where he had a bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. The inside of his home was just as beautiful as the outside; the couch was large and comfortable, there was quiet music playing in the corner from an old school record player and books and plants littering the shelves. He came back and poured you both a glass and clinked the two together before you each took a long drink. He finally sat down and you turned so your feet were up against his leg, quickly feeling comfortable with him.

“I wasn’t sure if you would be ok… with me coming over.”

“Why?” God his southern accent was like honey.

“I don’t know, maybe it was…I was too forward.” You were sure why you felt the need to bring this up, maybe clear the air somehow. “I’m divorcing him, I can't do it anymore.” Saying it out loud made your heart lurch.

“I get it sweetheart, it ain’t fair that he treats ya’ that way.” You were leaning into each other at this point, unable to stop the magnetic pull between you. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his hand near your shoulder. He started to entwine his finger in your hair, his big brown eyes danced over your face and it made you almost want to shy away from his gaze.

“You don’t think I'm a terrible person?” You looked into his eyes finally, wanting to know how he felt about you, how he felt about this.

His fingers left your hair as his thumb brushed over your lips. “Y’not a terrible anythin’ darlin’,” then he moved.

He was on you before you could take another breath. He slotted his lips over yours, his tongue sliding between them. He devoured you, stole the breath from your lungs. It was all consuming the way he kissed you, it felt like he was starved and you were all he wanted to consume. He sat back and pulled you with him, your legs wrapping around his hips leaving your core right in his lap. His hand cupped both cheeks as you pressed yourself fully to him, your hips grinding down into his. Your baggy sweatshirt was obstructing your skin from touching his, you needed more and the fabric was too warm.

You leaned back and you finally got a good look at his face as you pulled the zipper down. His lips were swollen and red and his eyes were almost all pupils. After ripping the bulky fabric off he finally moved his hands to the rest of you. He traced your arms down to where your hands laid on your thighs, he then lightly ran his fingers up your back over the thin fabric of your nightgown.

“You are so… fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He sounded like he couldn’t catch his breath and yours caught in your throat. He pulled you into him again but it still wasn’t enough skin. As his soft lips worked over your pulse and his rough beard scratched at your neck you knew you needed more of him. You groaned as you pulled away again and tried to pull his shirt off yourself but he was just large enough to make it difficult. He smirked at you as he leaned forward to remove the shirt and your skin finally made contact with his.

You both groaned as you came together once again, finally able to feel his warm solid chest against yours. He explored your body again as your mouths did the same, he kissed down your neck, over your shoulders and between your breasts. The thin straps holding up the nightgown were quickly pulled down, revealing your chest to him. He lavished you and you felt the vibration of his groans as he licked the crevice between your breasts before closing his mouth around a peak and sucking. Your whole body arched into his, your fingers carding through his hair which made him groan deeper.

“Fuck— Joel,” your skin was on fire and you were lightheaded. You knew somewhere deep down you should feel bad or guilty but it was the furthest thing from your mind. He made you feel like you were floating, your soul somehow detached from your body.

He pulled back from you, just enough to catch his breath and look into your eyes. His hands however never stopped roaming your skin. His pupils were blown wide, almost none of the deep brown in his eyes were left now. He dipped his head and dove back into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck and it made you groan and your core clench.

He groaned into you and you felt it rumble through his chest. You felt like you were losing grip on reality, you couldn’t tell someone your own name if they asked. It was all worth it because you were lost in the pleasure of feeling him under you, but you needed more of him.

You dropped to the floor, the carpet soft under your knees. You tried to pull Joel’s pants down his hips, almost frantically as if you didn’t see all of him now you would die.

“Hol’on darlin’,” he kind of giggled as he slipped the fabric off his hips and he fell back onto the couch and looked down at you with his mouth hanging open in awe. You met his gaze before looking down at his hard length.

Fuck, he was big.

You lowered your mouth to him, teasing your lips over his silky skin. His breath caught in his chest. You ran your tongue up and his hand came up to hold the back of your head, not to force but support. Eventually his fingers grabbed into your hair when you wrapped your lips around him and pulled him in. You felt his rough moan reverberate into your body every time you dropped your head. It was difficult to take him all at once but you had to feel him, everywhere.

“Fuck, oh my—gooood…” he dropped his head back onto the couch but you knew he was watching you, his eyes never left you. You felt your arousal spread between your thighs knowing you were driving him mad. Before you even got a chance to really do much Joel pulled you up on your feet. He stayed seated and looked up at you through his lashes and your heart stopped for a second seeing him below you like this made your stomach dip and your panties wet.

His eyes were blazing a path over your body, nightgown bunched around your waist with your entire chest exposed. You should be cold but you felt like you were on fire. He ran his palms up the backside of your legs until he reached the lacy fabric of your underwear. His eyes never left yours as he slowly pulled the fabric off your hips and over your ass, his hands touching skin the whole way down and helped you step out of it. That swooping feeling settled into your stomach again as he slid his fingers back up the inside of your leg until he reached your hot center, eyes never leaving yours. You both moaned as he dipped into the slick that coated your skin.

“Mhmmm, this all f’me?” He looked at you with a mix of arrogance and pure desire as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion. It was made easy by just how wet you were, you didn’t know if you had ever been this wet before. That’s the effect he had on you, or maybe this is just a primal kind of desire that you never had with your soon-to-be ex-husband.

Either way you were spiraling fast. You knew once you two came together you wouldn’t last long. You needed to feel him, it was driving you mad.

Joel seemed to be taking it slow, which you can admire as this is very new and he probably wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. While you admired him taking the time to make you comfortable you couldn’t wait anymore. As he kissed your chest and his fingers kept moving in agonizing circles across your sensitive bundle while you straddled his lap. His hard length rubbed against your center and both of your bodies shook with desire.

He groaned as he wasn’t expecting you to be on him so fast. His hands ran along every inch, taking you into him and never wanting to let go. You rocked your hips and slowly dragged your core across his length causing you both to stutter and moan. You were sick of waiting for the thing you had been thinking about non stop for weeks.

“Will you… make me feel good?” Your voice was squeaky and horse from all the moans and his eyes fluttered at your request.

“Oh darlin’… that bastard ain’t taking care of you huh? When’s the last time you were properly touched?”

You turned your eyes away from him, slightly embarrassed that he was able to tell that so easily. “Uhm… a while.” He gave you a pointed look, clearly not liking your non-answer. “A… a year,” his eyes widened at your admission. “Over a year…” You cringed at your final answer. You weren’t proud of the fact that it had been so long but you haven't been attracted to your husband in a long time.

”Oh… you poor thing,” he bracketed your cheeks with his large hands. “Don’t worry darlin’.”

Joel was losing composure quickly, he was ready to give you everything you deserved. His nimble fingers reached between your bodies and slid along your center, drawing a wanton moan from your chest. You ground your hips into his hand trying to create the friction he wasn’t giving you. He slowly spread your lips and ran his fingers gingerly over your clit causing your body to shake in his grasp.

“Hmm… y’all wet f’me?” His southern drawl was making his lust-drunk words slur together deliciously. The scruff of his mustache scratched at your neck but his lips and tongue soothed over the sensitive skin.

“Mmhmm… Joel— oh god please,” you sounded just as lost. Your voice cracked and your hips never stopped moving over his hand, desperate for attention.

“Don’t worry darlin’, I gotcha,” he quickly flipped you and your back hit the plush couch. A soft ‘oomf’ escaped your lips and Joel was mesmerized as you lay beneath him. “Oh look at’cha, you’re so pretty baby.”

His words were like hot honey, warm and sweet. You shifted under him and wrapped your fingers around his hard shaft and the groan that reverberated through his chest made your breath catch in your throat. You kept stroking him as his fingers found your wet center again, spreading your release over your puffy folds. As you wrapped your legs around his hips, you guided his crown to your core and felt the sweet stretch of him entering you slowly.

He paused for a few moments and looked like he was trying to center himself again before pushing his hips fully into yours and held himself there. A deep rumbling groan broke through his lips as he began to move, the stretch was making you nervous at first but you felt more and more comfortable as he kept moving. When he started to rub your neglected clit, a bolt of pleasure shot down your spine causing your back to arch and nails to dig into his arms.

“Such a good girl, baby… ngh— you-you feel so good,” his syrupy words made your head feel fuzzy and limbs heavy. His hips started to snap into yours at a harsher pace and his fingers spent up between you in tandem. Your orgasm was quickly approaching with his movements, faster than you expected. Was this the norm for people with healthy relationships and sex lives, real attraction? You couldn’t even finish the thought before Joel sped up his fingers and started to hammer into you. He was surrounding you, hovering over with those dark eyes and large shoulders. The smell of him alone was about to send you over the edge, he smelled like soap and a little like sawdust, all over man. His voice broke you out of your hazy state.

“You’re gonna— cum for me darlin’, I—I can’t hold on…much longer baby.” His voice was rough and demanding and almost like your body listened, you fell over the edge. The lewd moans and shouts of Joel’s name coming out of our mouth surprised you both. At feeling you cum around him, Joel lost all of his remaining control. He stilled inside you and you felt his muscles contract in his release.

“Oh fu—fuck! oh my… god,” he slumped against you and you welcomed his weight. You both settled into the couch as you rubbed your arms up and down his back. “I’m— I’m sorry darlin’, it's been a while. Normally I'd have… taken my time.”

He sounded almost nervous, it made you smile.

“Joel, stop. You have nothing to apologize for.”

”I’ll redeem myself next time.”

Next time? He wants there to be a next time!

You smiled to yourself and hummed at the content feeling of being under him while he still filled you.

You drifted to a place of half consciousness and woke up in, what you were pretty sure was the morning to the smell of bacon. You turned over in a bed, Joel's bed, to find it empty. You looked around the room and found it to be just like Joel, cozy and masculine. You located a shirt of his and threw it on before heading down the stairs to find a very sexy shirtless Joel standing in his kitchen, flipping pancakes.

“Mornin’ sleepy head,” his voice was thick with sleep and you walked up to him at the stove. With one large arm he pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. A slow smile spread on your lips at the familiarity of it all, the warmness of having someone to take care of you like this, emotionally. Something you almost never had with your husband, soon to be ex.

“Joel… thank you, for this.”

“What’cha mean darlin?”

“Taking care of me. Letting me come over last night.”

“Hey, look at me,” he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. “Anytime you need me, I’m here.”

You tried to blink away the tears gathering on your lashes but one managed to slip, Joel’s thumb catching it before it reached your cheek. Time felt like it stopped as you leaned in to each other, lips pressing together as you moaned at the feeling.

The day was spent lazing in bed and talking about all the things you two would do when your divorce was finalized. The idea of divorce was the scariest thing in the world when you first thought about it, but now, knowing Joel would be with you every step of the way… you couldn’t wait.

[na0koz]

oh my gawwd that ballerina fic was tew good… could we get a pt 2 smth smutty of them after the shows please <3

yesss u can. i lowk love the ballerina reader thing jinx would be so fascinated by her.

toxic!jinx masterlist

MDNI. jinx eats u out, top jinx, semi public (?? in a dressing room). not proofread (sorry)

you had finally finished the last performance of a particularly important show with your ballet school, dancing the lead part. you danced beautifully, perfectly.

this show was especially important for you, as your girlfriend was in the audience. you had reserved the perfect seat for her with the best view of the stage. she watched intently, completely in awe of how you moved in time with the music.

jinx was so proud of you and how far you’ve come. she watched almost all of your shows, picked you up from rehearsals, helped you practice, everything. she wanted you to be the best dancer and would help you do that.

the show was over, and you stood in the middle of the stage with your fellow dancers as you accepted the applause and flowers thrown from the audience. though, you didn’t really care for that, you were only looking at jinx. grinning at each other, you tried to catch your breath as the curtains drew shut.

as the audience filed out, jinx followed for the most part until she eventually separated off, headed for the dressing rooms. she made her way to final one along the dim corridor, one with your name plastered on the door. as the lead, you got your own private dressing room.

she knocked lightly before letting herself in. you smiled at her sweetly as she came in, looking at her through the reflection of your mirror.

“did so good, baby.” jinx hummed, pulling you up by your waist to hug you.

she hugged you tightly, as she always does, swaying the two of you from side to side.

“ ‘m so proud of you,” she said into your shoulder, muffled by your flesh.

you pull back slightly, continuing to smile at your girlfriend. she leaned in to kiss you, something she always did after your shows, yet this time she seemed more needy, hungrier.

you whined into the kiss, returning it sloppily. you could practically feel your lipstick being smudged over both of your lips, but you didn’t really care and neither did jinx, it seemed.

she nipped at your bottom lip, urging you to open your mouth to let her lick around your mouth with her tongue. you oblige, whimpering again when she intertwined her tongue with your own.

wondering what caused her to be so needy, you think back to anything that could have made her jealous. often times, if someone made jinx jealous, she would make out with you as soon as she could to try and prove her ownership of you. i mean, she never said any of that out loud, but it didn’t take much to figure it out.

you realise it was likely your male counterpart in the show, who held your hand a bit too tightly at the end of the show, pulling you into an awkward looking side hug.

smiling slightly into the kiss, you’re actually kind of glad that jinx is the very extremely jealous type. you can’t say you don’t enjoy these rushed make outs, especially when the adrenaline from your show was still coursing through your veins.

finally, jinx breaks the kiss, but only for a moment as she pushes you onto the sofa in the back of your dressing room.

“let me show you how proud i am, mkay?” she almost whispered, as she laid you down gently.

her hands smoothed down your stomach while she pulled your sheer tights hastily down your thighs. she finally knelt in front of the sofa, face to face with your heat as she hooked your leg over her shoulder.

you nod frantically, murmuring a ‘please, jinx’ as if it was a curse word. you said it quietly and with a tone of desire in your voice. you wanted, no, needed the release jinx was about to bring you to so desperately.

your girlfriend grinned at your response, it never gets old to her how much you want her, need her. she flicked her braids behind her back out of her face as she pulled your panties down to meet your tights that were crumpled around your ankles, a pale pink to match the rest of your outfit.

the sight of your pussy alone is enough to make jinx drool. your previous make out turned you on a little more than you anticipated, and flushed red as you watch jinx lick her lips at the sight of your dripping hole.

“stop staring..” you mumble, attempting to close your legs. you’re obviously stopped by a firm hand, one that squeezes the flesh of your thigh and pushes it back to its original position.

“i should be able to see my meal before i eat it, right?” jinx said in a mocking tone. you know she’s just teasing, but it still only heightens the embarrassment you’re feeling.

“okay well…you’ve looked long enough,” you sheepishly reply. you just want her to indulge you.

jinx laughs again, you’re not sure if it’s at you or not, but you don’t really have the capacity to think about that when her lips wrap around your clit.

you whine, clawing at the material of the sofa supporting you. jinx is relentless, suckling on the bundle of nerves; her tongue flicking over it hungrily before she brings one slender finger to your hole.

she prods at your entrance, teasing your convulsing cunt while she looks up at you with wide eyes. your face has since warped into an expression of pure bliss as the coil in your stomach continues to tighten.

seeing you like this only spurs jinx on, causing her to lap at your slick pussy with even more enthusiasm. a moan of her name, almost with the likes of a plea, encourages her to eventually push the finger teasing your pussy into your tight walls.

bucking your hips into jinx’s mouth, you cry out at the added stimulation. you clap a hand over your mouth as a weak attempt at muffling your moans. getting caught in this state would be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you.

the sight of you trying to hide the heavenly noises makes jinx groan into your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves up your spine while you squeeze your eyes shut. she reaches up and pulls your hand away from your mouth.

“let me hear you,” she murmurs into your pussy before continuing to fuck her finger into you, sucking your clit once again.

she adds another finger, maybe to make you feel better, maybe to make you moan out loud again. the answer to that doesn’t matter right now, not when you feel as good as this.

jinx curls her fingers up to that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. she can feel your walls clenching around her fingers, and she’s getting desperate now. she just wants you to cum in her mouth, maybe a little selfish but at the same time, you get an orgasm out of it. who’s to know whether it’s selfish or not.

“ji- jinx… gonna c- um.. please..!” you can barely get your words out, mind clouded by pleasure as the lewd squelching noises of your gooey pussy fill the room.

jinx smiles and gives your clit a final suckle as you cum, hard. she laps up your release greedily as she continues to plunge her fingers in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm.

finally, she pulls her fingers out and sucks them clean while you whine at the sudden emptiness. you breath heavily, a few tears rolling down your cheeks.

giving your pussy one last lick, cleaning up the final drops of your cum, jinx crawls back up to meet your face and give you a sloppy kiss. she grins at your fucked out expression, wiping the tears from your cheek.

she relishes in the knowledge that she is the only one who makes you feel like this. she strokes your hair and praises you sweetly.

“such a good girl f’me.”

you hum and rest your head on her shoulder, still only just catching your breath. jinx lets you rest a little before helping you pack yourself up and bring you home to the dinner she tried to prepare for you.

[official-cvntified-gay]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐈 [𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

❀ summary: You’ve fallen hard for Alcina Dimitrescu, the alluring CEO of a rival company—completely unaware of her plan to use you to gather information on your father’s business. What began as manipulation slowly turned into love, but when the truth comes out, will Alcina be able to win you back, or is it already too late?

❥ here's part 2, not proofread as always and idunno about this one but enjoy darlings<3 bye<3

❥ part one

In the weeks following your discovery of Alcina's betrayal, it felt like you were drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions. Anger, heartbreak, and confusion fought for dominance, while you buried yourself in work to keep from thinking about her. Yet no matter how hard you tried, memories of her touch, her voice, and her regretful expression from that night haunted you.

You did everything to avoid her, even going so far as to skip any social functions or venues she might frequent. But that didn’t stop her from trying to contact you. At first, it was the flowers—extravagant bouquets delivered to your home. Each came with a handwritten note from Alcina, her usually elegant script slightly smudged, as if written in haste or distress.

“I’m sorry. Please let me explain.”

“You mean everything to me. Please talk to me.”

“I was wrong. Let me make it right.”

You tossed every note aside without reading more than the first few words, each one feeling like a punch to the gut. As the days went by, her attempts grew more persistent. She sent letters, each one more heartfelt than the last, pleading for a chance to talk, to make things right. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. It hurt too much.

Then came the late-night phone calls. You would let it ring, staring at her name lighting up your screen, debating whether or not to answer. But you never did. Eventually, the calls stopped, leaving only an aching silence behind.

And tonight, at your father’s charity gala, it seemed fate had a cruel sense of timing. You didn’t have a choice but to attend, despite knowing there was a high chance Alcina would be there. The grand ballroom buzzed with chatter, the clinking of glasses blending with soft music. You were surrounded by people, yet you felt utterly alone.

You’d barely stepped into the room when you felt her presence before you even saw her. Across the sea of well-dressed guests, Alcina stood out like a dark flame in her black gown. Her tall, commanding figure drew eyes, but it was her unwavering gaze locked onto you that made your stomach twist.

Despite the distance, her emotions were clear. Longing, regret, desperation. The sight of her stirred something in you, a mix of pain and desire you had tried so hard to bury. But you refused to let her get to you. Not here. Not now.

Throughout the night, you tried to lose yourself in conversations, mingling with people you barely knew or cared about. But Alcina’s gaze followed you, her presence looming even from across the room. Several times, you caught her trying to approach, weaving through the crowd toward you, only to be intercepted by someone who wanted her attention—business partners, acquaintances, socialites. You could see her growing more frustrated with each interruption.

And yet, part of you was relieved every time someone blocked her path. You weren’t ready to face her. Not yet.

But Alcina was nothing if not persistent.

The night wore on, and just as you thought you might escape without confrontation, she managed to close the distance. You were slipping away to the restroom for a moment of quiet when you felt her presence behind you. The door clicked shut softly, and you turned to see her standing there, looking as regal and vulnerable as ever.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice soft, desperate. “Just hear me out.”

Your heart raced, but you didn’t move, didn’t turn to face her. “Alcina, I don’t want to do this.”

But instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you in an instant, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind. Her touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid you’d pull away. You stiffened at first, your breath catching in your throat, but she didn’t let go.

Her head lowered until her lips were near your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve to ask for forgiveness, but I can’t let you go without trying.”

You stared at your reflection, feeling the heat of her body pressed against yours, the way her arms held you so tightly. You’d dreamed of this moment for weeks—of seeing her again, of feeling her close to you. But not like this. Not with so much pain between you.

“You used me, Alcina,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You lied to me.”

“I know,” she breathed, her voice cracking. “I know I did. But what I feel for you now... it’s real. It was never supposed to happen. I was never supposed to fall in love with you, but I did. And I hate myself for hurting you like this.”

Her arms tightened around you as if she feared you might slip away, her cheek resting against your hair. “I’ve never felt this way before, not with anyone. I’ve never let anyone in like I did with you, and I ruined it. I ruined us.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, tears burning behind your eyes. Part of you wanted to push her away, to tell her that you didn’t care anymore, that it was too late. But the way she held you, the way her voice shook with sincerity—it was hard to ignore.

“I thought I meant something to you,” you whispered, the hurt clear in your voice. “But it was all just a game.”

Alcina shook her head against you, her grip on you unwavering. “It started that way, but it changed. You changed me. Please, believe me. I never wanted to hurt you like this.”

You were silent for a moment, your mind torn between the betrayal and the love that still lingered in your heart. Her arms around you felt safe, familiar, but the weight of what she’d done was still too heavy to ignore.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

Alcina let out a shaky breath, her lips brushing the top of your head. “I understand. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to earn your trust back, if you’ll let me.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks as you leaned back into her. It was all too much—the anger, the longing, the love you still felt for her despite everything.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Alcina’s arms tightened around you, and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself sink into the feeling of being held by her. “Then just let me hold you,” she whispered back. “For now, that’s all I ask.”

You stood there in the quiet of the bathroom, wrapped in her arms, the weight of the past hanging between you. There was so much still unsaid, so many wounds left to heal. But for now, in this moment, you let her hold you, let her be close again, and for a fleeting second, it felt like maybe—just maybe—things could be okay again.

❥ definitely not obsessed with Alcina begging to take her back- oop who said that?🤨👀

[byechristopher]

pleaseee a fic where chris and reader meet for the first time (she's lowkey sad or some shit like that idk) and he's all starstruck by her 😞

lucky you.

–CHRIS STURNIOLO FLUFF.

Author's note: hey y'all. I got the idea from this lovely anon (thank you for the request!🤍) and combined it with something that actually happened to me. Fate truly works in mysterious ways – so take this long, sappy story (based on true events, pft). I hope you like it! Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long, sappy fluff. Very slight angst if you squeeze, but nothing crazy. Very long, didn't proofread!

My mom used to always say – "that's life; when one door closes, another door opens". And if I still lived in the same house with mom, she'd know; I haven't seen an opened door in a long while. It is unfair but it is what it is and I had no intention of succumbing to tears in the solitude of my nightly despair.

Seated on the chilled bench, I instinctively drew my knees towards my chest in a desperate bid for warmth. The sheer elegance of my black tights, though adorning my legs, proved futile against the biting cold. Unfazed, I refrained from complaining; after all, they were my cherished favorites. Mascara was most likely smudged from my previous ugly crying, yet I ignored it, taking solace in my sweater's embrace.

Leaning my head against my knees, my fingers absentmindedly engaged with the laces of my shoes – a subconscious act of distraction. In the midst of this self-imposed solitude, a sudden exclamation pierced the quietude.

"Shit!" I heard a voice, someone angry. The mysterious guy threw his hat on the pavement and scoffed, his hair nearly as messy as mine. His gaze shifted towards me, a thorough assessment from head to toe, "care if I sit next to you?" he asked quickly. Without much ado, I responded with a nonchalant shrug. I didn't care, I had way more things to worry about.

I could feel him rummaging through his pockets, trying to find God knows what, he seemed upset, anxious, "want a cig?" I didn't see him, but I saw his extended arm in front of me. I don't think he was looking at me either.

"Sure." I murmured under my breath, taking a cigarette from him half-empty packet.

"Why does life have to be such a fucking bitch?" I chuckled in response, treating it more as a statement than a question. Offering another shrug, I watched as he scanned the area, likely in search of his lighter.

"If I had the answer to that, I'd probably murder this bitch." I chuckled, he chuckled too.

He held the lighter in front of me and only then did I turn my head to look at him – he was definitely not what I expected to see from what I've heard. While I didn't dwell on it for long, it seemed he did, as seconds passed without his lighter igniting. His intense pale blue eyes remained fixed on mine, and I briefly removed the cigarette from my mouth.

"Hello?" was my mascara that smudged that I scared the guy? He hasn't uttered a word.

"Oh.. sorry." he shook his head, as though attempting to shake off the reverie that had consumed him in the past few moments in his own world, "I just.. didn't expect you to be here?"

"Well.. I'm pretty sure we haven't met before. So how come you didn't expect me?.." I was confused.

"No, I mean.. you are very beautiful." he almost whispered but I caught that, and if I was just a little disconnected from reality, I probably would've blushed.

"Oh. Thank you." my lips turned into a thin line – I put the cigarette back into my mouth, grabbing his lighter instead.

He chuckled, "and I thought I didn't know how to take a compliment." he took his lighter back, taking a puff of his own cigarette.

"Don't you hear like a thousand compliments on a daily basis?" with my knees still pulled up to my chest, I embraced them tightly, resting my head against the comforting curve of my legs.

"Hm. And yet this was the best compliment anyone has ever given me." he placed a leg on the bench, just so that he'd be able to have his whole body face me.

I couldn't help but laugh, "yeah, I'm good at giving things. Not receiving."

He nodded, his hat still on the ground although he didn't seem to care, "understood.." he smiled and wow, he had a nice smile, almost contagious, "a fellow people pleaser, nice to meet you. I'm Chris."

I reciprocated with a nod and a quick smile. My name slipped off my lips swiftly, echoed by him, and I couldn't help but notice how much better it sounded when it rolled off his tongue.

"Will I ever see you again?" he looked me dead in the eye.

"Probably not." I pursed my lips, looking back at him.

He nodded as if he understood and dropped his burnt cigarette to the ground. Chris grabbed his hat and got up, offering another smile, "I believe in fate."

"I don't." I teased, smiling.

"You probably should." he shouted, already far away from me to speak normally.

What an interaction.

It had been quite a while since said interaction. Not that I thought about the guy a lot, but he definitely was in the back of my mind. Even when I was outside, he'd still cross my mind every now and then, like a nice, distant memory.

I chuckled as I gulped down my whiskey – the music was too loud for my own liking but it was a Saturday night and it'd be a pity if I stayed home once again; my friends begged and I actually like hanging out with them. I watched as my friends danced with each other, not too far away from me, as I rummaged through my purse to find the money so I could pay and leave.

"Fucking.. shit.." I cursed under my breath, turning my phone's flashlight on because the lights in that bar were bright as fuck, but apparently not enough to actually help me see.

"D'you need any help?" I heard a somewhat familiar voice shouting behind me. I turned around and my eyes widened when I saw him.

"I.. you!" I was beyond surprised, to say the least, because I was truly convinced I'd never see him again. Not because I didn't want it; but because I had enough on my plate already.

"Shit.." he whispered, and if I wasn't already looking at his lips, I wouldn't be able to know what he said, "..see, I told you fate works in mysterious ways."

"This was just a coincidence." I convince myself.

Was it, though?

"This was no coincidence and you know it.." he grinned and I let my eyes travel down his body for a few seconds – he looked best in black, ".. I need to see you again.." he muttered.

"Well, it seems you will indeed see me again." I smiled.

"Does that mean you'll give me your phone number?" he grinned and I saw his eyes do the same thing mine did to him; check me out.

I hummed, "..hmm.. no. We'll see if fate actually works." I smiled.

"You can't be serious.." he tilted his head, looking at me in disbelief, "I found you again, how can I leave when I don't know if I'll ever see you again?"

"You said you believed in fate."

I found him undeniably attractive and intriguing. However, at that moment, I realized I wasn't emotionally equipped to entertain the idea of liking someone or embarking on dates. The weight of my personal struggles loomed large, and I couldn't shake the fear that if he discovered the extent of my problems, he'd likely reject me. Hence, I concluded it was better to distance myself now rather than risk inevitable disappointment later on.

It's not like I'd see him again.

Truly, it's been more than a month since I last saw him; I did think about him way more often than usual but he still remained a nice, distant memory. A memory that was in the past and would never be in the future.

"Yo, we're leaving already? It's 2AM." my friend whined, although we were already walking down the stairs, toward the exit, with our jackets on and bags in our hands.

"No, love, we're just taking our fucking bags for a little walk." another friend replied, rolling her eyes and I couldn't help but laugh at their bickering.

Immediately after departing from the bar, he made his way out of the restaurant located directly beneath it. You have to be fucking kidding me.

"You.." he whispered, his eyes widened.

My mouth hung open, my eyes as wide as his; I really couldn't believe it this time. This couldn't be a coincidence, right?

"What.. are you doing here?" there was nothing else that could leave my mouth at that time.

"I work here.. now, you can't tell me this is a coincidence." he walked closer to me, although still keeping a distance to be respectful.

It definitely wasn't but I was still in the same mood I was back then.

"I can't tell just yet." I teased him; deep down I wished I could give him way more. But I knew I couldn't.

"Don't.. tell me.. are you not gonna give me your phone number? Again?" he chuckled in disbelief once again. I nodded.

"He better be a murderer, bitch; that's the only valid reason for you not giving him your phone number yet." shit, I completely forgot that my friends were literally behind me, staring at us; they knew nothing about this.

"Stop." I whispered to my friend and I don't think she heard me but she definitely saw the expression on my face.

"Please?" he said and I almost gave in when I saw those eyes.

I have always been self-destructive but this wasn't it, this time. It was realistic, right? I really couldn't do this; I knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with my lifestyle so I was just doing me a favor by saving myself from possible heartbreak. Right?

"I promise you now; if we meet again, I'm opening up to you. Fully. My phone number, my likes, my diskikes." I gave him a teasing smile, which he seemed happy to receive.

"Pinky promise. Now. I trust fate but not you." he chuckled and so did I.

"But you trust my pinky?" I laughed but he seemed serious, despite his playful stare. I sighed, still smiling, wrapping my pinky around his, "..promise."

This would probably never happen. It's fine.

This time, I really thought about him; dreamed about him even. That was very unlike me but it happened either way. I seemed to be doing lots of things that were unlike me lately – like going to this bar again. I wasn't going to see him but I was hoping to.

The whiskey was cold against my lips, my black dress hugging my hips as I sat down on the couch.

"Third time's the charm."

No.

I turned my head and saw Chris speaking to the friend group that were sitting next to ours; I saw them getting up and leaving, Chris replacing them.

"Oh God.. what did you tell them?" my grin was wider than usual, I really wanted to see him after all.

"That.. I needed to sit next to you. And that it was a matter of life and death." he smiled, taking a sip of his own drink.

"You're crazy."

"For you." he said, searching for something.

Before realising, I saw his phone in front of me, signaling me to dial my phone number. And of course, I did.

"So. Start. Tell me everything."

"Do you have free time?" I tilted my head, still looking at him.

"For you? Always." he chuckled.

I cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer, looking into his eyes to make sure he wanted to kiss me as well. And as soon as I felt him leaning towards me, I placed the softest kiss on his own soft lips.

"Take me home?"

[readerforexiao]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄? 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒?... 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑷𝑺 | 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ

⌗ L&DS boys x Reader [separately] | fluff headcannon | tw: kissing? perrhap a little suggestive | word count: 2.3k

⌗ A/n: it's marinated in my drafts long enough.

⌗ "A real man will ruin your lipstick and not your mascara"

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ⤺ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 |

• At times, random and most unexpected, Xavier's hand would reach to grip your chin with more force than he meant to, and with the suddenness of such a gesture it made your wide and startled eyes instantaneously direct their attention to him

• His expression softened and silently conveyed his sincerest apology.

• But determined he was, if not anything else as he tilted his head in concentration. There was intent circling his mind, a purpose to his actions.

• You called his name, but with the hold he had on your chin, his fingers squeezing into your cheeks, the words could only come out muffled.

• "Sorry," He said, ever sweetly.

• The velvety brush coated in gloss was still in your hand, frozen. You couldn’t move because you were caught in the tension between his touch and the undeniable pull of his gaze.

• The room felt smaller, quieter.

• "You've got pretty lips," Xavier remarked, his words spilling out in a familiar, lazy drawl.

• Without missing a beat he used his thumb to tidy the smudges where you messed up, his touch unhurried and intimate.

• The reaction he stirred was so consuming that the flutter of your eyes came instinctively and the swarm of butterflies that unfurled their wings deep in your stomach never ceased to leave you utterly breathless.

• You thought nothing else could ever suprise you, that you had seen it all. But this was Xavier, and there was hardly any choice but to learn to accept the spontaneity of his actions, for he only ever meant them endearingly, and they definitely would not stop any time soon.

• So, as you turned to focus elsewhere, Xavier seized the chance yet again to catch you off guard.

• He stole a kiss as effortlessly as he had swept you off your feet and made you fall head over heels in love with him.

• His lips had become sticky with product, and all at once, the world around you disappeared by the heat of his touch.

• "You taste nice," he said with a slow, deliberate smile while you gasped his name.

• "Xavier" You flicked his forehead with a touch too light to ever do any harm, and he didn't mind as he swiped another coat of your gloss.

• But this kiss was different— slower and deeper as if he couldn’t quite get enough of you.

• The gloss on your lips tasted sweeter as it mingled with the heat building between you and the saliva exchanged.

• His fingers cupped your face and you gently nudged him back needing air.

• As you pulled away, you noticed your lips had lost their perfect coating and the evidence of his greed and inability to resist his desire shimmering on his own.

• "Could get used to that." He poked his tongue out, licking his lips and savoring the taste.

• "Come here," you muttered under your breath.

• With his face held in the palm of your hand, your thumb brushed away the remnants left behind.

• While you did that he kissed your thumb sweetly, his lips warm and tended against your skin and the simple gesture of affection made you melt.

• "Can't wear anything around you..." You shook your head, but the kiss you pressed to his cheek gave away just how much you adored it.

• He smiled cheekily, "That's fine. I prefer you in nothing too”

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ⤺ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 |

• Zayne was always one to seek approval and consent no matter the task.

• His stoic demeanor was tempered with unwavering patience and yet, the one time he set that discipline aside was when he drew a small vial from his pocket, removed the lid, and asked you to part your lips.

• Your confusion barely registered when his eyes were already trained firmly on your mouth.

• And almost too intently did he watch as you complied without hesitation and allowed his cold fingers to gently cradle your chin.

• The tip pressed against the curve of your chapped lower lip, lingering there without hurry.

• Zayne held his breath and paused upon the realization that he had been much too lost in the depth of your gaze.

• He snapped out of his thoughts and silently chastised himself for being so easily distracted.

• But could he blame himself for admiring you? For getting lost in your eyes and the amusement prancing around in that little head of yours.

• "Don't smile," He warned with a brow raised in challenge.

• But he knew he'd been caught and the teasing that would follow would be relentless.

• "Your breath tickles," you murmured, a strained smile tugging at your lips that he did not approve of.

• "Hold still!" His fingers tightened, shaping a small pout on your lips.

• His voice, low and authoritative yet never without a gentlemanly edge, sent a rush of giddiness spiraling through you.

• Zayne was meticulous in handling matters, no less for the wand he grasped and the manner he carefully applied the product, afraid to even stray a single swipe beyond the natural shape of your lips.

• The silence was electrifying and charged with a tension he effortlessly incited.

• You knew applying a simple coat of gloss should never have taken that long nor felt so intense, but it was Zayne and that was an explanation enough.

• He had a way about him, a unique allure that managed to turn even the most mundane actions into a captivating experience, a feeling both familiar and irresistibly attractive.

• You felt like you were being seduced and Zayne, fully aware, had intended for it to be exactly that way.

• It was frustrating; to stomach and resist the itch to grab him by the collar and kiss him fiercely until only a trace of glitter and glow remained in your wake.

• When the job was done, Zayne would gaze at your lips and then move slowly over your face before taking in your entire body from head to toe, his look a little more suggestive than innocent.

• His voice broke the silence with a hint of annoyance lacing his words as he pulled back to admire and assess (judge) his work, "Did you really have to smile so much?"

• You shrugged. If he only knew how it was impossible not to because he had that kind of effect on you even when you tried to resist it, and you hardly ever did.

• Zayne's lips curled as he took your hand and pressed a reverent kiss to its back.

• But one fluid motion, his heart took control and he drew you flush against his chest, bending you slightly backward as he leaned over and kissed you until the gloss smeared onto his lips.

• If it was going to be ruined, he figured it might as well be by him.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ⤺ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 |

• No doubt, there were benefits to having an artistic partner.

• Someone whose hands seemed sculpted for creating masterpieces.

• Rafayel was an artist through and through in both mind, hand, and heart.

• Each of his movements purposeful and precise, carrying both skill and intention.

• It made him reliable when he did your makeup (and he loved doing your makeup).

• Unlike the times when his stubborn nature left him dissatisfied with his paintings and drove him to pursue an ever-elusive sense of perfection, when it came to you that restlessness was replaced by something softer and entirely more patient.

• He watched you through the mirror as you wiped away your fifth attempt at getting the perfect winged liner, frustration etched onto your features.

• Without a word, he closed the distance and perched his chin atop your shoulder. "Let me."

• His skills far surpassed yours in both creativity and execution and it made you jealous as he worked with seemingly minimum struggle.

• "You make it look so easy,"

• You couldn't see what he was doing but you trusted him— proven by past experience that he never failed to flawlessly do your makeup to your liking.

• He smirked without looking up, "Years of practice... and raw talent, obviously."

• "Humble as ever."

• He chuckled, the sound tapering into something still as your gaze held his, open and unguarded and filled with wonder and admiration for something he thought nothing of.

• For a moment he forgot what he was doing and his fingers stilled against your skin.

• "Maybe I just like impressing you." (And expressing myself),

• He unfurrowed his tensed brows before going back to tracing strokes of pigment across your eyelids and brushing soft hues against your cheeks.

• This wasn’t just about getting every detail right. No, it was about you and you weren’t just a canvas to him but a muse and his favorite masterpiece.

• When it was time to focus on your lips, resisting the urge to steal a kiss was nearly impossible that his mouth descended quick, taking your breath for a second as invasively as he'd stolen that kiss.

• It earned him a look that, too, was worth it because Rafayel liked the way you looked at him, no matter the expression, as long as your gaze was on him.

• "What arr yyo doin?..." you muffled, unable to talk clearly when his thumb parted your lips and pressed against your tongue.

• "Keeping you still"

• And still you remained with the erratic pulse in your veins so intense that it kept you so occupied you barely noticed the time passing until he stopped.

• "Already?" You turned to the mirror, pleasantly amazed but not entirely unexpected.

• Rafayel stood with his arms crossed, his finger tapping gently as you marveled at how perfectly they'd been drawn, the subtle color blooming in a way that felt just right.

• You were completely smitten with the result.

• "Best thing about it..." He nudged your chin to the side, guiding your gaze toward him.

• Then he kissed you, his mouth tilting just right as yours met his in a perfectly slotted puzzle piece.

• "It's kiss-proof," he murmured against your mouth with a grin that made your heart skip.

• "Kiss proof, huh?"

• "Absolutely," he responded, "No smudges, no fading... just the perfect finish."

• You couldn't help but laugh, "You think of everything, don't you?"

• He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear. "Only for you."

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ⤺ 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 |

• Doing any kind of makeup had been nearly impossible when Sylus was around.

• It wasn’t just that he had an uncanny ability to sense the exact moment you planned to start but he inevitably gravitated toward you.

• He had this kind of persistent need for subtle jabs of affection, demanding your attention every minute of the day as if the world couldn’t turn without you and attention from you.

• It made trying to focus on anything else feel like a battle— one you rarely won.

• On a daily basis, you ended up keeping it simple with just lashes because it had become a sport to Sylus.

• He made it his mission to present himself in your space and always managed to ruin even the smallest effort you put into your routine.

• No attempt was safe from his need to disrupt.

• Now formal events were a frequent occurrence for both of you always tied to work, and most times you found yourselves attending them side by side.

• You sat before your vanity with your breath held in concentration as you rummaged through your little drawer to decide what color you'd settle for.

• You were rather determined to make tonight's appearance look a little more daring, aiming for something bold yet refined.

• Then, Sylus appeared, his timing perfect.

• "Really, sweetie?" he remarked, his voice tinged with disapproval as he leaned against the doorway.

• "Go away," you said without sparing a glance back at him, already anticipating his antics.

• "I don't think I will," he replied, his eyes reflecting with mischief as he sauntered into the room, stood behind you and rested his hands on the back of your chair.

• "You're not going to mess this up!" you warned.

• He feigned innocence.

• "Of course not, sweetie," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I wouldn't dare... but you know I can't help myself around you..."

• "Well you're going to tonight" you muttered, adjusting the small table mirror before tracing an outline around your lips.

• And of course a flicker of challenge passed over Sylus' features because he loved these little games, it made everything a tad more exciting.

• "We'll see..." Sylus observed you from a respectable distance then after.

• But as you immersed yourself in perfectly executing the desire look of a deep red tint across your lips you hadn’t paused for a second to wonder why Sylus refrained from interrupting.

• Despite the urge to tease you he found himself rather captivated by your elegance and focused and observed you with a quiet fascination that was uncharacteristic for him.

• You stood up after the finished product, dabbing a little matte shimmer onto your cheeks before taking a step back to admire your work.

• Sylus gaze locked onto yours in the mirror before he turned you around with a lazy smirk, eyeing you up and down.

• He let the silence stretch between you, taking in every detail.

• "You look stunning, I almost don’t want to ruin this," he added, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw, a teasing hint in his touch.

• "Don't you dare" you pointed a finger at him and he chuckled, kissing your hairline.

• For someone who usually ruined your makeup with his kisses, he was surprisingly considerate tonight.

• But little did you expect when he tugged at his tie and unbuttoned the first button and pulled it to the side, revealing a glimpse of his neck.

• "Kiss," he said, his smirk wry and confident as if you wouldn't deny him.

• Wide-eyed, you shook your head, trying to move away, but his hand was already holding you firmly in place.

• "Where do you think you're running to, kitten?" he murmured, his grip tightening just enough to keep you from escaping.

• He couldn't be the one to mess up your makeup tonight, but you hadn't said anything about yourself.

• And a few kiss marks and smeared lipstick on his collarbone would be a bonus.

All rights reserved | Copyright @readerforexiao 2024 | Do not copy, steal, or repost to any other platform 🧡

[valeisaslut]

the morning is the muse-mdni (+18)

clic to read pt.1!

⚢ pairing: Shane McCutcheon (The L Word, 2004) x Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

ෆ synopsis: after the heated events of the night before, Shane and y/n try to make it pass as a one night thing, but feelings get in the way. It's your turn to realize that Shane is someone quite difficult to avoid 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭑ word count: 2.12k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♱ content: smut (nsfw), dom! Shane, sub! reader, oral sex (r!receiving), fingering, cum eating, jealousy, cursing, Shane and y/n are smokers, pet names, etc. MDNI!! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ Hii! first of all, thank you all so so so much for all the support in my first fic! I honestly wrote it more for myself than for it to be popular and i didn't expect all those kind beautiful messages and so many people asking me to write a pt.2! So here it is, I really hope you like it as much as i did. Sorry in advance if there are some misspelling or writing mistakes, english isn't my first language and I will be happy to receive constructive criticism! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The dim and warm morning light seeped through the curtains of Shane's department, reaching your eyes and waking you from your slumber in a slow manner.

As you languidly opened your eyes, you started scanning your surroundings, not immediately comprehending your present location. However, in a matter of seconds, the flashbacks of the previous night hit you like a bus and a slight blush painted your cheeks.

The first thought of your sleepy head was to make sure of Shane's presence in the bed, so you rolled up to the other side, only to discover her absence.

You looked around the room, slightly confused but not really surprised. It was something that you could expect from a one night stand.

"Shane...?" you mumbled softly, still giving it a chance to dismiss your internal thoughts.

"maybe she just went and expects me to leave before she comes back" your inner voice echoed.

You were only in your panties, so you sat up and stretched your arms, letting out a soft sigh. You were ready to get dressed and start your walk of shame as soon as possible, but a sound coming from the kitchen stopped you in your tracks.

You felt footsteps coming towards the room, so you covered yourself with the sheets again. The door creaked open, revealing Shane's long and slim figure. She had two different colored mugs, one on each of her hands and a cigarette dangled from her lips.

She was wearing only a white tank shirt and black panties, her jet black hair all messy and her eyes were slightly black from the remnants of smudged makeup (that she didn't correctly remove after your shared shower).

Without a doubt, she was the hottest girl you had ever hooked up with.

"hey, you already up" Shane said, with an even deeper than usual morning voice, she came closer to you and offered you the cup "I was making myself coffee and I made some for you too, if you want it"

"oh, thanks" you said as you took the coffee and leaned back on the bed, sipping it and letting out a soft sigh of pleasure "I really needed that, thank you again, you really didn't have to"

Shane looked at you while taking a long drag on her cigarette, the morning light perfectly illuminating your face and your locks with a serene aura. Then her gaze went a little lower, discovering your bare body covered only by the almost sheer sheets.

"my pleasure" she responded to your gratitude with an alluring manner, giving you her very renowned Shane smirk.

You looked down at your cup, chuckling when you realized what was written in it.

"Best. lesbian. ever."

"nice mug you have here" you said, turning it around to show her the quote, making her laugh too "i'm gonna need the address of the place where you got this. immediately"

"I have no idea 'cause I actually didn't bought it" she responds to your request "it was a joke from my friend, she gave me that as a birthday gift last year"

"the quote is true tho" you remarked, still chuckling as Shane drew nearer, giving you a cute peck on the lips. "hell yeah it is" she purred, planting another kiss upon you, her passion and eagerness growing with each passing moment.

You reciprocated with the same initiative, as Shane put out her almost finished cigarette on the ashtray that laid on the nightstand. Both of you left your mugs too, quickly forgetting the coffee.

You sat up on your forearms and Shane crawled up over you, placing one of her hands on the mattress while the other one moved to your nape, deepening the kiss.

You placed your hand on Shane's waist, caressing the soft flesh as her kisses went lower, nibbling upon the sensitive skin of your neck and licking the already dark marks from last night.

Her hands traced lower, softly gripping your breasts and she separated from the kiss to attach her mouth to your nipple, sucking on it and squeezing the other.

She slowly moved towards your legs, her body getting closer until she was on her knees in front of you. As she did that, she gave you a look full of lust, her lips kissing and her hands gripping the supple flesh of your inner thighs.

With each second passing, the dampness in your panties grew more, yearning to be pleased. As a reflex, you attempted to close your legs, but her strong grip kept them firmly in place.

"be a good girl and spread your legs" she deeply whispered, and you complied without complaint. Her voice slightly muffled by her lips grazing your thighs, getting closer and closer to your sensitive spot.

You audibly moaned as her tongue touched the drenched fabric of your undergarments, licking a long stripe and sucking your wetness. Her teeth grasped the waistband of your panties, slowly drawing them down your legs with her mouth.

The sight was absolutely alluring, and turned you into a whimpering mess. Her hands squeezed your flesh once more and her mouth met your bare pussy, eliciting a resounding gasp from your lips.

She began to suck loudly on your clit as your head fell back in ecstasy, your eyes darted shut as you firmly grip her hair.

"Fuck! don't stop" you moan and as if that weren't enough, her deft fingers found their way to your sensitive nipple, teasing and twisting it.

“you like that, baby?” she whispered, her deep voice muffled by your pussy. The room was filled with the sultry wet sounds, causing you to writhe beneath her touch.

“oh god Shane” your moans only seem to heighten her desire, making her more eager, almost pussy drunk. She eats you out like she is a woman starved, and you are her last meal.

A broken "fuck" escaped from your lips the moment when her hot tongue started intercalating between fucking you and flattening against your clit, knowing that it was over for you.

Somehow, she delves her fingers into the mess and the overwhelming stimulation quickly drove you to the edge, making you cum all over her mouth with loud and broken whimpers, one of your hands gripping the sheets and the other roughly pulling Shane's hair.

A shiver courses through your spine when she used her tongue to clean up every last drop of your release, her fingers still inside of you, moving slowly to extend your high as much as possible.

After you calm down from your high, Shane hovered over you and pressed sweet kisses on your open, breathless mouth. She removed her fingers and sucked them clean before helping you pull up your panties again.

"i love the way you taste" Shane whispers in your ear, and you swore you could hear her smirk. You were just about to reply, but you both stopped your movements at the loud sound of knocking on the door.

"cominggg" Shane lazily said, putting on the first pair of pants and socks she found laying on the floor. She walked out of the room and the next thing you heard was the door creaking open.

"hey Shane, sorry to wake you up" a womanly voice says "I just dropped by to ask you if you could give me back my bra from yesterday, it's my favorite"

"oh, hey Laura.. uhh yeah, jus gimme me one second and I'll look for it" you hear Shane say as you felt her footsteps coming near the room.

You can't help being embarrassed, it makes you feel kinda ridiculous laying naked in a bed that yesterday was filled for another girl, so you start putting your clothes on and grabbing one of Shane's cigarettes, lighting it and taking a drag.

"It shouldn't bother me so much. it was just a one time thing. with a stranger. It doesn't mean anything, so why do I feel like this? god im so fucking stupid" your mind echoed while you got dressed as fast as you could.

Shane walked into the room, not even looking at you and just focusing on finding that piece. She opened a drawer and took out a pink, lacy, probably D-cup bra and just walked out. Your mind couldn't find a moment where you had felt more uncomfortable than this.

"found it, there you go" you heard her say "thanks babe, call me later" the girl replied.

"sure.... see you around" Shane responded, and you can quickly feel her closing the door and her steps coming closer again. You took a drag of your cigarette and grabbed your purse.

"hey hey, you are going already?" Shane confusedly leaned on the door frame while you were putting your clothes on, her eyes still lingering at your body.

"um, yeah" you responded while your mind struggled to make an excuse and tried to sound the most unbothered it could. "I forgot I have... a deadline today, so yeah.... i'm out, sorry"

"oh, ok" she said, kinda weirded out by your sudden attitude, but still understanding. You took another long drag, trying to figure out your next words.

"hope I see you around, some of these days" you say as you turn around to put out your cigarette in the ashtray. Your words were genuine, but at the same time you didn't know if you wanted to see her again. Your head was a complete mess.

"yeah, me too" she got closer to caress your check and give you a peck on the lips, smiling at you. You swore you saw her eyes slightly glint, but didn't give it too much importance.

You both said your goodbyes with a bittersweet taste on your mouths and as soon as you were on the elevator, you took out your phone and called your best friend Alice.

"Hey Al, wanna go to the Planet for coffee in like, 10 minutes?"

"so yeah, all that happened" you and Alice were sitting at a small table outside, both with coffees in your hands.

"well, that explains the hickeys all over your neck" she said, pointing out the dark fresh marks decorating your neck and collarbones.

"oh my god, are they THAT obvious?!" you responded covering your neck with your hands, completely embarrassed.

"I noticed them as soon as you walked in, you are gonna have to invest on some good concealer or a scarf" you laughed at her remark, but your laughter stopped the moment you saw Shane walking in.

"fuck, that is the girl I hooked up with last night!" you whispered to Alice, pointing at her under the table and trying to hide your face. Al turned to look at Shane's direction, and then turned again to look at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression.

"Shane?! You arrived from New York one fucking week ago and Shane already fucked you?? this is so fucking ridiculous, its like she has a radar for every girl she hasn't fucked yet!"

"shut up, Al! shit, she's coming, act normal" you said, freaking out.

"hey guys, didn't expect to see you here" Shane said, greeting you with a confused look on her face. Then, her eyes fell to your neck, noticing the dark hickeys and smirking.

"um, yeah... I just decided to grab a quick coffee with my friend on the way, Shane, this is Alice- " you nervously said.

"yeah, I know, we are very close" Shane says "unfortunately" Alice replies.

"well, see you both around, wish you luck with your deadline y/n" she says with a kind of sarcastic tone and turned around to go with Marina, Shane's shot of espresso already in her hand.

"what a tiny and crazy little world" you say, trying to process everything that happened in just an hour.

"crazy, yes.. but not tiny" Alice responds with a smirk on her face, already thinking of linking you to Shane and expanding her board.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

clic to read pt.1!

guysss please let me know if you want a part 3 and I will happily write it! I already have a lot of ideas. Hope you enjoyed and I'm very grateful for every repost, like or share you want to give.

(sorry again if there's any spelling or writing mistakes)

[crsssie]

couple tiktoks with the robins

Word count: ~ 700

Summary: cheesy tiktok trends with the robins :3

𓅫. "Heard you're looking for a boyfriend" - Tim Drake

"'kay, just," you show Tim the tiktok, fingers laced together, practically begging him to do the tiktok with you. Tim grimaces, but it's minimal effort, so he listens. He stands to the side as the audio plays from your shared airpods, waiting for you to move the camera to the side. He hates to admit it, but as he steps next to you to lean on the mirror, raising a brow with a mask on and your eyes light up, his breath catches in his throat. You're always so pretty— too pretty. You're always so pretty. And god, if doing couple trends meant that you'd stare at him like that, then he'd do all of them with you. (Though, he has to make sure none of his friends finds out about them. The embarrassment would eat him alive) Tim waits for you to stop recording, the noise going off in his ear as he steps next to you, staring at the tiktok. He looks just as lovesick as you. "Aww, you're supposed to look a little intimidating." You mumble quietly. "You're looking at me too cheesily" "You look too excited too." Tim sticks his tongue out at you, pointing at the way your pupils were blown wide. "Maybe we're both just lovesick fools." Tim doesn't see a problem with that.

𓅫. "she is the best thing that's ever been mine" - Jason Todd

"I know this is a trend for sapphics but please please please PLEASE—" You beg. "The only photos I'd be able to put are the ugly ones of you." Jason rolls his eyes. "No." "But you have a whole album of—" "No." You pout, jutting out your bottom lip at Jason as he wavers slightly. He doesn't even have capcut downloaded. He doesn't want to download it. It's just a silly tiktok trend, and sure you're obsessed with showing him off on your private social media, but there was no way he was posting you on his accounts. You grumble, going back to scrolling through your phone, typing on it, and Jason assumes that you're complaining to your friends about how he won't do the trend. He goes back to his own phone, putting his airpod back on, a video playing. You could complain all you want— He wasn't doing it. Yet, the recently deleted app on his phone and the newly downloaded video on his hidden album suggest anything but. Stupid. It's in his drafts. (Not that he'd tell you.)

𓅫. "Oh, I can't stop singing" - Damian Wayne

"Stay still." You set your phone on the table as you squish onto Damian's lap, and he raises a brow at you, setting his pencil down. He notices your phone recording, and you pull out your lipstick. Damian pauses. He knows this audio. He's pretty sure one of his classmates was showing him it a while ago. You draw half a heart onto your cheek, pressing your cheek to his affectionately, warmth pressed to Damian's cheeks, leaving the mark of a heart... no you drew the half the wrong way. You pause, the mistake registering in your head as the audio continues playing. "Habibbti, I don't think—" You burst into laughter at the accident, hiding your face in his collar, kicking your legs in embarrassment. Damian purses his lips in amusement with you, running his hand down your back soothingly while shaking slightly. That was funny. "Sorry for messing up and making you pause." You stop laughing after a while. Damian smiles, shaking his head, reaching for a wet wipe on his desk. "Would you like to try again?" Who are you to say no?

𓅫. "stay with me, I don't want you to leave" -Dick Grayson

"Okay, so—" "I'm in." Dick gives you two thumbs up. "I recognize this audio." "I really can't surprise you with any couple trend, huh?" You laugh. "Sweetheart, I'm on Tiktok more than you." Dick smiles, handing you your lipstick. You pout, taking it anyway, peppering Dick's face with kisses before the lipstick dries, smudging some of the kisses, letting the others look fine on their own on others. Dick presses kisses back to your skin while you reapply the lipstick, some of the red on his lips getting on yours, causing you to pout. He was getting you red too. You finish, eventually. (Dick's face is practically a red mess from both you and the lipstick) You step to the side to wipe the lipstick he got onto your face, setting up your phone and starting the tiktok. Dick stares at you the whole time, eyes gentle, sick with an affection reserved for only you, lips pulled into a foolish smile. You pout when you ruin your lipstick, only for Dick to reach for your chin, the phone panning to his face, a mess of red on his face, a stupid smile on his face, eyes crinkled, holding all of the love in the world for you and only you. (and god do you melt at the sight)

[megalony]

Where Were You

This is another Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders) imagine, requested by the lovely @neonkiwi​ I hope this is what you were looking for. Any comments and requests would be lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @anonyymoouussssss​

Masterlist

Summary: Tommy takes care of his pregnant wife when she isn’t well, but he isn’t there when something happens.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Thank you," Forcing a smile on her lips, (Y/n) nodded at the man who placed down another stack of papers beside her on the table before he wandered off towards the black board on the wall to change the tally.

Yet more ledgers and bets for (Y/n) to write down in the leather book sprawled out in front of her. The book which only (Y/n) was allowed to write in for the time being because Tommy thought she 'had the best hand-writing' and the book needed to be eligable and easy to read and follow. He had been against (Y/n) helping out in the betting shop work until she showed she was more than efficient writing neat but fast, taking notes and adding and making up the bets, winnings and losses.

There wasn't much Tommy could deny (Y/n) and when Polly and Ada were involved in the business, he could hardly begrudge giving his wife a job role too and letting her help.

But this was where he drew the line and (Y/n) knew it. He didn't want (Y/n) getting involved with the Blinders. She went to all the family meetings, he told her what deals he was planning to make and who they were dealing with, (Y/n) could know everything and anything, he just didn't want her involved. Much like Polly, she knew what they were doing but she left the men to it.

With a sigh, (Y/n) rubbed her hand across her temple and tried to ignore the building headache forming behind her eyes as she looked down at the numbers that were almost bluring before her eyes.

A gasp escaped her lips and her hands furiously grappled with the stack of papers beside her when John slammed a book down on the table, knocking a stale coffee cup flying and spilling the contents across the pages.

"John! Honestly, can't you be careful?" (Y/n) chided as she swatted the coffee from the pages and tried wafting them in the air so they didn't smudge. She couldn't afford to go and ask someone to re-write all of those pages over again for her to copy down into the book. It would set them back hours which they didn't have and bets could be lost.

"Sorry," His shoulders slumped and his lips curled down around the cigarette between them in a way of apology.

Gathering the book and the papers in her arms, (Y/n) stood up from her seat and walked round the table.

The booming voices shouting out bets, calling out names and stakes and the ultimate rush of adrenaline was too much for (Y/n). She couldn't hear her own thoughts in the back room and it was fuelling her headache to the point she was ready to leave which she didn't want to do.

She held the papers close to her chest, curving them awkwardly over her protruding stomach while she weaved around the workers and headed over to Tommy's office. The office was still adjoined to the betting room but it had a wall, window and door to block out the noise and it was significantly quieter in there. It just meant that (Y/n) wouldn't get as much work transcribed when she was in the same room as her husband.

He served as a great distraction.

"Alright, love?" Tommy's low voice curled around a cigarette chomped tightly between his teeth and a puff of smoke swirled around his hair, distorting his features for a second or two.

"Yeah, can I work in here for a bit?"

"Course," Tommy was already up and out of his desk chair which he motioned towards with a quirked lip and a raised brow. It wouldn't be fair to make (Y/n) sit on the sofa with papers scattered on the floor and the book on her lap when she could take his seat at the desk for a while.

A wave of ease rushed through (Y/n) the moment she sat down and felt Tommy's hands rubbing up and down her bare arms. He had the cigarette clasped between his fingers and the smoke drifted through her nose and sent chills down her spine. (Y/n) didn't smoke often but if she couldn't smell the tobacco she started to panic. It was a scent she associated with Tommy, even when they were in bed or in the bath, he still had that lingering smell of smoke about him.

(Y/n) spread her papers about the desk and got started writing them into the book in her neatest penmanship while Tommy sat down on the desk on her left. He was close enough that her arm brushed his thigh every time she turned a page or moved some paper around, but it was comforting.

Every now and then, (Y/n) rested her hand on his upper thigh as he read through some paperwork and after a while, she leaned her cheek on his leg when she took a short break. Her head was as cloudy as the room was with Tommy's smoke and it was making it hard to focus on what she was trying to write.

Her uneasy headache, coupled with the tension in her stomach from the baby made (Y/n) wish time would go faster so they could go home.

Wordlessly, (Y/n) reached out for Tommy's hand that was planted on the desk near her papers, and pressed his palm against her stomach when their baby started to wriggle. She could see him smiling out the corner of her eye but he didn't say anything. He just kept his hand pressed where it was, smoothing his thumb over her stomach in a calming motion that made her feel a little better.

"Bathroom break," (Y/n) mumbled quietly, throwing her pen down on the table as she took a moment to straighten up in her chair and click her spine back into place.

Tommy leaned over to kiss her temple and his hand moved to the small of her back as she walked past him before she headed out the room.

There was a small toilet at the back of the betting room and it was the most convinient when (Y/n) didn't have the time or patience to wander through the house and up the stairs to the bathroom. The toilet was poxy, the room was barely five foot wide and (Y/n) had to wiggle round the door to get into the room and be able to shut it properly behind her.

Even in the small toilet the noises in the betting room overpowered her ears. The loudness, close proximity and stressful atmosphere never used to play on (Y/n)'s nerves until she was pregnant.

A shockwave rattled through (Y/n) and all the air got caught in her lungs when she looked down.

Blood.

Why was she bleeding? There shouldn't be any blood in her underwear like this. A few drops in the beginning of her pregnancy, sure that was normal and nothing to worry about but (Y/n) didn't even get that. From the moment she found out she was pregnant, the thought and sight of blood had gone from her mind.

As if on cue, a small cramp twinged in the side of her stomach when the baby wriggled.

A tightness pulled around her lungs and squeezed her chest until she was barely breathing anymore, gasping for small streaks of air through dry lips. But (Y/n) managed a deep breath when the door suddenly screeched as it swung open and her wide, doe eyes locked with John.

"Shit! I- sorry, sorry I should have knocked!" John's hand tightened around the door handle and he snapped his eyes closed as he went to shut the door again. All of them seemed to forget that the lock on the door was broken and no one bothered to knock and check if it was in use or not.

"Can you get Tommy for me?"

"Wh- why?" The unease in John's voice was clear and he kept the door open just a crack so he could hear (Y/n) but couldn't see anything. He didn't want to go get his big brother because he would not be happy with John for this mistake.

"Please?" The pleading in her voice was evident because John shut the door and scampered off immediately.

"Learn some manners and fucking knock next time!" Tommy slapped his hand against the back of John's head, knocking his cap off into his hands before he bypassed his little brother and walked out the office.

He stormed passed the tables, nudging men out the way until he reached the back where the toilet was. A slither of worry rattled through his frame at the thought of why (Y/n) needed him. John didn't know, all he said was (Y/n) didn't seem well and wanted him to go to her but that could mean any number of things. She could have been sick, she could have slipped in that tiny fucking room, she could feel unwell, anything and everything rattled through his mind.

"Love, it's me. What's up?" Tommy carefully pushed the door open, being mindful not to bash it into (Y/n)'s legs before he knelt down on the floor in front of her.

His eyes cast down when (Y/n) pointed at her underwear hanging around her legs and he gulped at the sight of the blood. That wasn't a good sign. When he looked back up, he saw tears streaking down her face that had lost all its colour and she was biting her thumb out of anxious habit.

"Okay... let's get you in the house and Pol will go get the midwife. Hey, no tears," Reaching out, Tommy brushed his thumb against (Y/n)'s cheek and swiped away a stray tear. "You'll be fine."

(Y/n) let Tommy help her up and she bound her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shirt, inhaling his cologne that always calmed her nerves. She didn't dare look at anyone as Tommy guided her back through the room towards the main part of the house. She kept her eyes screwed shut and her face hidden as Tommy's arms tightened around her waist and shoulders, guiding her through and shielding her from any prying eyes.

He could be right, she might be fine, after all she wasn't exactly in any pain. Her head felt fuzzy but that was normal and the baby was moving around like a trooper, showing that they were okay. Maybe she had just been working a little too hard recently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rubbing his damp hair with a towel, Tommy sauntered out the bathroom and walked back towards the bedroom, surprised to find the bedside lamp turned on, illuminating the room in a deep golden glow. He couldn't stop the sigh from passing through his lips when he looked around the room and his eyes landed on his wife stood to the side near the wardrobe.

"What do you think you're doing?"

(Y/n) turned on her heels, coiling her arms to her chest as a small, sugary sweet smile broke out on her face when she looked over at her husband. His hair was stuck up at all angles after he'd just had a wash and he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. Showing off the white and baby pink scars, the black tattoos and the tense, taut muscles. But what her eyes focused on most was the quirk of his lip showing he was trying to fight off a smile.

He only smiled around (Y/n).

"Nothing,"

"Then get back in bed." Tommy clicked his finger and pointed over towards the bed as he threw the towel on the chair in the corner and folded his arms over his chest.

"Can't I come with you, please?"

A grin broke out on Tommy's face and for a few seconds, she thought he might agree. He stalked towards her like a predator slowly advancing on its prey until his hands were gripping her hips tightly and his eyes danced up and down her figure. Noticing that she was only wearing one of his button up shirts that was halfway undone, no bra or underwear on beneath.

The grin stayed on his face even as he slowly started to walk (Y/n) backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed and he carefully nudged her down until she was laying on the bed. He hovered above her, stood between her legs and leaned down until his abdomen was pressing against her bump and his nose was ever so slightly brushing against hers.

"No."

"Tommy-"

"Bedrest means you stay in bed, and you rest. What makes you think I'd let you come back to work?"

He could see the sorrow building up behind her eyes and even though it would usually crumble Tommy's hard persona, this time it didn't. The midwife had instructed bed rest and Tommy was going to ensure that it happened. He wasn't having (Y/n) come back down to the betting room and overwork herself or be around all the idiots he had working for him.

No way was Tommy going to have (Y/n) overdo it and find her crying in the toilet again or collasped down on the floor. He wasn't taking any risks with her or the baby. They had been lucky the midwife said it was only high blood pressure and stress that caused the bleeding two weeks ago.

"I'm bored Tommy. I can sit in the office with you and do the books, it isn't hard or tiring, please? I'll still be resting, I'll be sat down all day."

(Y/n) had managed two weeks stuck in their bedroom and she didn't know how much longer she could last. Two more months of this was going to kill her off and no one was listening to her. Polly and Ada agreed with the midwife and Tommy wasn't letting anyone else come up and visit her and no one was going to dare go against Tommy in favour of (Y/n) working.

She wouldn't even mind if he just brought the books up here for her to write in, it would give her something to do up here all day.

A groan passed through (Y/n)'s lips and Tommy swallowed it up, kissing and nibbling on her lip until she was lightheaded. When he mumbled 'no' against her lips, (Y/n) could of cried if he didn't continue to kiss her like he was trying to steal the life from her.

"Can you bring the book up here then and I'll transcribe all the bets in, please?"

"Nope. You can have any book you want to read, I'll bring you anything, but you ain't working and that's that. Now be a good girl and stay in bed, I've got to get dressed and go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shedding his cap and jacket, Tommy looped them on the hook by the door before he kicked off his shoes and undid the suspenders on his shoulders. He could barely see straight with how tired he felt and it had taken a lot of effort to scrub the blood from his face, hands and neck and change his clothes before coming home. He had taken the time to get the blood from beneath his fingernails too.

He didn't want to bring anything from the dark side of work back home to (Y/n). Whenever he came home to her, he was as clean and tidy as he was when he walked out the door.

His feet barely picked up to trudge up the stairs and he flicked the landing light on as he passed, needing some sort of brightness to wake him up because the darkness was calling his name. Begging for him to sleep and drift off into the dark corners of his mind.

He could feel a smile pulling at his lips when he reached the bedroom. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around (Y/n) and pull her into his chest, never to let her go again.

With his hand on the doorhandle, Tommy barely pushed the door open before something launched his way and had him ducking down, stumbling into the doorframe to be out of the firing line.

"Fucking Christ (Y/n)! What are you doing?!"

Turning to look behind him, Tommy felt his heart beating out of his chest as his eyes landed on a book strewn halfway down the hall behind him. She had thrown a book at him. A fucking book, and he didn't know why. What had he done to warrant that?

He kissed her before he left this morning, in fact he did more than that and she had been smiling tiredly when he left for work. He even sent Polly round this afternoon to check on her and make sure she was alright because he knew she was still struggling with bedrest. So why was she throwing things at him when he had barely walked through the door? Surely he hadn't forgotten anything, today wasn't an important or special day for any reason.

With a deep breath, Tommy stood back up to his full height and stepped into the room, his eyes focused on the bed but (Y/n) wasn't there.

A gurgling cry caught his attention and his wild blue eyes darted round until they landed on his wife. The one thing in his life that he couldn't live, breathe or think without.

She was on the floor.

Tommy tripped over his feet to get over to (Y/n) but he couldn't breathe when he reached her.

(Y/n) was laid on her side on the carpet, her legs curled up to her stomach that was hidden in one of his dark grey button up shirts which she had been wearing a lot recently. Her hair was strewn about all around her, fallen out of a messy bun long ago. One arm was coiled to her stomach and the other was stretched out in front of her clearly from when she had thrown the book towards him. Every part of her was trembling.

But it was the blood that got Tommy's attention. Her exposed thighs were caked in blood, both dried and new and it was soaked into the carpet beneath her. And when he dared to look up at the bed, he saw splatters of blood there too like one of the crime scenes he made his Blinders clean up.

"Fuck- oh shit. Love what's happened? Come on, talk to me."

A burning cry wrenched against the back of (Y/n)'s throat when she felt Tommy's arms cocooning around her. It felt so much better when he lifted her up and took her weight from her, he let her lean into his chest and held her up. Half of her body had gone numb from laying on the floor for so long.

She buried her face in his shirt but slammed her fist into his shoulder to hurt him like she had been hurt. Tommy took the few punches that followed, he tightened his chest and stayed still, letting her vent out her frustrations and he took the horrid scream she errupted against his chest.

"W-where, were you?" (Y/n) sobbed through her words and dug her nails into Tommy's shoulder, begging him to hold her tighter so she knew this wasn't a dream or a mirrage.

"Sweetheart I've been at work, tell me what's happened, please." The desperation in his voice was clear and the agony rattled through into (Y/n)'s chest.

He had been at work, where he had been all day since he left over twelve hours ago. He told (Y/n) he would be home late tonight but he would send Polly round to check on her and she had been okay with that. Why had things suddenly changed like this? He had been in the office until the afternoon and then he had been out on the streets for hours clearing up some business and getting rid of a few loose ends.

"My water broke a-and the blood... Tommy it hurts! I- I couldn't- I tried calling but someone unhooked the phone and..."

The moment the blood started to pool between her legs, (Y/n) tried ringing the office to get hold of someone, anyone who could pass the message along to Tommy that he needed to come home urgently. It rang twice and on the third attempt someone answered before unhooking the phone so no more calls could get through. Then when (Y/n) tried to move, she collapsed on the floor and her phone unplugged from the wall and she was left alone and defenceless.

She had been waiting in agony for Tommy to come home.

Tilting his head down, Tommy pressed his lips against her hair which soaked up the few tears starting to fall from his eyes. He breathed in her scent to stop himself from panicking and slowly swayed them side to side as he held her closer to his heart. Feeling (Y/n) sobbing into his shirt that she was clenching so tightly in her fists that she was about to rip through the material.

Why had no one answered her calls?

Why did no one come and get him? He could have been here hours ago if someone had bothered to hear his wife's calls.

"Love I- I'm so sorry. Let's get you on the bed and I can call the midwife, okay?"

Tommy didn't wait for an answer, he knelt up on the floor and hoisted (Y/n) carefully into his arms bridal style. They couldn't stay sitting on the floor like this and he needed to get her comfortable so he could plug the phone back in and call the midwife- and aunt Pol- and get them both here now.

He couldn't waste anymore time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turning her head to the left, (Y/n) buried her face in Tommy’s chest, smothering a sob in his shirt as she wished this would end soon. When both Polly and the midwife first arrived, both had been in agreement that Tommy should wait downstairs.

(Y/n), however, was not in agreement.

She wanted Tommy by her side, she wanted his arms around her, his lips on her flushed skin and his soft words in her ear. He promised to keep them safe, he couldn't do that from downstairs or waiting outside the door and he was in full agreement. He wasn't going anywhere without (Y/n).

Her skin was blotched red and dotted with sweat, her body was burning up like she was sitting on a coal fire and she couldn't feel a thing below the waist. 

Tommy, however, felt like all he could smell, see and focus on was blood.

The horrid smell was burning his nostrils and flooding the front of his mind and when he looked around the room, it was everywhere when it should be nowhere. There shouldn't be more than a few streaks of blood during this process that was supposed to be magical and heartwarming, not heart-wrenching and life threatening.

The blood on the carpet was dried and as black as the night sky and Tommy was already adamant that he was ripping that carpet up and replacing it when this was all over. The bedsheets were stained, (Y/n)'s legs were smeared pink from the midwife trying to clean the blood away that reappeared again just a few minutes ago. It was back under Tommy's fingernails from holding and moving (Y/n) around on the bed. He hated it.

Tommy pressed his hand to (Y/n)’s neck, kissing the top of her head repeatedly to try and calm her down because he could do little else but provide support.

(Y/n) tightened her hand around his own as she moved so she was leaning back against the pillows instead of Tommy. She could feel Polly dabbing at her neck and forehead with the ice-cold water she had just retrieved from the bathroom. She tried to scream but it came out rather defeated from the lack of energy and the searing pain.

“H-how much longer?” There was such a pleading tone to (Y/n)’s voice as she looked over at the midwife who pursed her lips.

“Not much longer. The head will be born soon.” She ran her hand up and down (Y/n)’s thigh to try and calm her down. “Come on now, another push for me.” (Y/n) did as asked, pressing her chin into her chest as she snapped her eyes closed, trying to ignore the pain that was consuming her but it didn’t work very well. She wanted this to be over, she wanted their baby to be delivered right now or for this to wait another two months so everything would be alright.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

(Y/n) was supposed to be on bed rest for another two months, one month in the very least, before they even had to think about labour. She had wanted Tommy here when it started and for things to go smoothly and to have a beautiful healthy baby in her arms. This was too early for that fantasy to become reality.

Tommy kept his eyes on the cream coloured sheet that had been placed beneath (Y/n)’s lower half but his nostrils flared and his jaw locked when he saw how it still started to get coated in blood.

“Tommy…”

“Shh, it’s alright love. You’ll be fine.” Tommy hushed, pressing his lips to her forehead as he brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. She interlocked their hands together as her other hand pressed to her stomach, wishing the pain would go away.

“Push again for me, the head’s almost born.”

Tommy hooked his arm around (Y/n)’s waist to help her sit up, his other hand still interlocked with her own. He let her lean against his chest as (Y/n) both moaned and screamed at the agony that was tearing through her muscles. Letting out a sharp breath, (Y/n) closed her eyes as she buried her face into Tommy’s neck, feeling him muttering praise against the top of her head.

“Okay, the head’s born.” The midwife reached over for one of the towels resting near Tommy’s leg, not daring to look at him when she heard his sharp breath at seeing the blood on her hands.

(Y/n) started to push again on the next contraction like Mary advised but she felt like she was becoming lightheaded. Tommy kept his hand entwined with hers but moved his arms so they were wrapped around her waist, holding her to his chest. He could feel (Y/n)'s free hand moving up to grip his arm and it made him tremble from how badly she was shaking against him and he hated it.

"Hey, you stay with me, alright? Almost there sweetheart." Tommy's lips stayed pressed to the top of her head but he shook her a little when he felt her wavering against him. She was close to passing out.

"You've done it, you've done it." Polly gripped (Y/n)'s arm and sat down on her other side on the bed, shaking her like Tommy had when (Y/n)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head for a second before she seemed to come back around again.

"Good girl," Those two words sent (Y/n)'s heart alight and made her want to smile but all she could do was nuzzle into her husband, hoping everything would stop now. It didn't seem to sink in with (Y/n) that she was still pushing and the afterbirth came swiftly.

Tommy handed the midwife another towel and she nodded in thanks, gently wrapping it around the tiny newborn. after doing a few checks, she motioned the small bundle towards Tommy, silently asking him to take the newborn but she reeled back when he shook his head. A definite 'no' angrily spat through his lips and he looked at his aunt instead who took the hint.

He wasn't holding his baby until (Y/n) was stable and alright, he couldn't let go of her in case something happened. It felt as if letting go of her would cause her to slip away from him and Tommy couldn't handle that.

His heart hammered away in his chest as he watched Polly take the tiny bundle into her arms, a breathless smile on her tear-drenched face. She quietly mouthed 'girl' at Tommy before she started to rock the small bundle side to side.

“Alright miss.” The midwife hushed soothingly, rattling through her bag before retrieving a small clear glass bottle and a needle. She injected a fair amount of what Tommy guessed was clotting medication into (Y/n)'s lower stomach.

Tommy bit down on his tongue to stop himself from crying or shouting or simply exploding when (Y/n) groaned quietly. Her back arched up from the bed and her head pressed bruisingly into his shoulder but he didn't care. Carefully, Tommy sat (Y/n) forward so he could move around behind her and lean back against the pillows. He sat back against the pillows and headboard and slowly lowered (Y/n) back so she was leaning against his chest, laid between his spread legs.

This was how they laid thousands of times at night, (Y/n) between his legs wrapped up in his embrace like she was a child needing comfort. This way Tommy could kiss her head and keep his arms around her chest and give her the comfort she was seeking.

The midwife gave (Y/n) another injection in her elbow and then started to place rags dipped in ice water over (Y/n)'s neck, wrists and stomach to help cool her down so she didn't fall into a fever.

Time seemed to disappear from them and Tommy wondered if he had slipped into a trance and for how long until he suddenly felt (Y/n) relax in his arms. Whatever the midwife had given her seemed to have done some good, she wasn't trembling against him or moaning in agony and he knew she was still awake which was another good thing.

"No stitches required but she's lost a lot of blood. I'm going to call for a doctor, she might need to go to hospital for a transfusion and fluids and it would be safe for baby to be checked over at hospital. For now, they're both stable."

Tommy refrained from rolling his eyes. The amount of blood he'd seen (Y/n) lose was enough to bring the dead back to life. She needed blood, Hell Tommy would give her pints of his own blood if they matched and it meant she would get better. He knew she wasn't going to be impressed about going to hospital but he needed her to get better and recover.

But for now he could relax a little and let down the guard he had built up to keep himself contained and in check. (Y/n) wasn't on the verge of death, she wasn't in immediate danger.

As if a light had gone off in his head, Tommy looked over at Polly and let his gaze fall down on the bundle in her arms.

Surely two months early meant their baby girl was going to have some sort of complications or issues. Tommy could see already that she was tiny, she wouldn't even measure to the size of his lower arm and the clothes they had clearly weren't going to fit her. But she was breathing, she was whimpering and moving and that was more than he could have asked for in this situation.

"Pol," Ticking his head, Tommy looked down at (Y/n) before back to his aunt who got his silent request and leaned closer to the couple.

She was gentle when she slipped the baby into (Y/n)'s trembling arms, moving the towel back so they could see her face and the newborn could have skin to skin contact with (Y/n).

Tilting his head down, Tommy rested his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder and moved his hand so he could delicately brush his finger over his newborn's cheek.

"She's beautiful."

[anonimityblog4000]

I actually hate having to post this, but

I feel like I have to post this in response to some recent drama stirring. I will cop to making an alt blog to post this because the hate around this has been virulent.

Recently this post has been shared regarding another artist creating locked tomb fan art

In this post which you should read they make the claim that the creator of these pieces 100% for certain created them with AI image generation software generating quite a lot of attention. The problem is that their supposed supporting evidence is INCREDIBLY flawed to the point of contradiction and nonsense. For example both of these cropped images

are given as evidence of AI generation, claiming that the smudge is the result of AI failure and that the hand is CLEARLY ai generated…except that even a cursory examination and familiarity of what AI image generation ends up looking like would make it obvious that these aren’t AI hands and are just…normal hand drawn hands. As for the smudge we could easily explain that as the artist not noticing a mistake in one of their layers before posting, but we don’t know that. Except we do.

Because if you were to look at the artists blog now you might notice they have made some corrections and small edits to the original piece and lo and behold…no smudge. Now here is where things get properly silly, instead of drawing the obvious conclusion from this that the artist being able to go in and fix the layers of their work means that they actually drew it THEY CLAIM THAT THE ABILITY TO DRAW AND EDIT IN THE EXACT STYLE OF THE PIECE IS FURTHER EVIDENCE OF AI.

WHAT.

I don’t think I need to point out to most people that AI image generation tools do not work that way and they certainly don’t allow you to make subtle targeted fixes and edits.

There is also a claim that the artist admitted to using AI to produce the piece which is a gross distortion of what they explained, the artist openly stated that they have tried using image gen tools to assist with their thumbnailing process. Let us be clear that thumbnailing is NOT producing any sort of final piece but is simply the process of brainstorming ideas and concepts. It’s seriously gross to flat out lie and claim the artist said anything different. Thankfully someone else screenshotted this so there’s actual evidence that accusations are being made that are straight up lies.

It is also at this point we should take a look at some of the artists other publicly available work.

I chose this selection because another accusation in the post that is hard evidence of AI is that because the posted pieces are “too different” in style from other earlier work posted on their blog, it should be fairly obvious how silly this is with even a small sample of what they have produced. This is an artist who obviously has the ability to work in a wide range of artistic styles and mediums but instead this is being used to claim they…can’t art? It’s also worth pointing the obvious that there are plenty of works in that artist’s portfolio in the exact same mucha style, including ones that are literally hand drawn on paper. Works that literally predate the availability of image generation software going back years. It is a complete farce to suggest this person CANT DRAW HANDS.

Frankly it is incredibly disappointing that the community is barraging this artist with insults and hate because of one persons incredibly flawed accusations. A person that I might add has deleted comments on their post that disagreed with them while at the same time castigating the artist for blocking them and deleting their post as evidence of their guilt.

While this isn’t conclusive in and of itself I’ll end with this.

It’s more effort than the accuser went to before rallying a witch hunt against someone else.

[whumpasaurus101]

I love UR WRITING! can u do henchman or sidekick whumpee x possessive villain whumper x posessive righthand whumper 2 (kinda like cruel sadistic yanderes) —whumpee caught trying to escape their mansion /whereever they live

GGAGGGHHH ANON YOURE THE SWEEETESSTTT <<33333 I LOVE THIS SM YES OFC!!!!

I'm sorry this isn't amazing but I couldn't get back to sleep so I whipped this up quickly HUIDJKHJDHDH

Cw: Knife wounds, held while hurt, yandere whumpers, mulitiple whumpers, creepy and possessive whumpers

“And just where might you be off to?” Villain’s voice cooed from behind Sidekick, a cold trickle sent down their spine as they shivered, “I uh-y-I…I swear I-”

“I-I-,” Villain mocked, taking a step closer, leading Sidekick to be pressed up against the door, “Darling,” Villain cooed, leaning in close as they tilted their head, “Do you not enjoy staying here?”

A sob caught in Whumpee’s throat as they tried to speak but they couldn't form any words. “What’s the matter, darling,” Right Hand crooned, raking their hand through Sidekick’s hair- who jumped, not noticing their advance on them. “Cat got your tongue?”

And suddenly, the gentle touch in their hair turned into an iron-tight grip as they tightened their fist, slamming Sidekick’s head against the door. Sidekick cried out, their hands flying up in an attempt to claw at Right Hand’s grip but there was no use. Villain nodded once at Right hand and took a step backwards;

“I know you think you belong to Hero, you think that’s who you belong to, but let me make one thing very clear,” Villain was practically shaking from anger, seething as they watched Sidekick begin to fight against Right Hand's grip. The sound of the switchblade opening made Sidekick freeze up.

“You don’t belong to anyone else but Right Hand and I. We own you, not Hero, not Civillain, not anyone,” Villain stepped closer, their knuckles white as they gripped the handle of the knife. “Nononono-”

Right Hand had managed to move behind Sidekick, pinning their back against their own chest as Villain advanced towards them. Sidekick cried out, tears streaming down their face as they thrashed against Right Hand, “NO-nonono ple-please ‘m so-sorry-” They sobbed, “I di-didn't mean- I-”

A sob erupted from their throat as the cold metal blade traced lightly along their ribs, the other froze, shivering and trembling as they squeezed their eyes shut. “Oh darling,” Right Hand cooed, playing with Sidekick’s hair, soaking in how they trembled, “We’re doing this for your own good.”

Sidekick jolted as the blade slashed once across their chest. Right Hand tightened their grip, “We’re doing this because we care about you,” They soothed, “You belong to us.” The knife next drew a long red line just below Sidekick’s collarbone, making the other yell through gritted teeth. 

Villain lightly traced the knife up along their collarbone, up up up their neck, smudging a glistening red streak along their skin from their previous wounds. The knife stopped just under their chin, forcing their head up. Sidekick shook with a sob but slowly blinked their eyes open, a tear immediately falling as their eyes met with Villain’s.

“You belong with us,” They whispered, their voice making Sidekick shiver, a whimper escaping their throat.

“You belong to us and only us. Sidekick-” They slowly tucked a short curl behind Sidekick’s ear and Villain smiled gently, “We are the ones for you. You're made to be with us. We would do anything for you.”

Sidekick slowly cringed back into Right hand but they nodded.

Villain gently brought their hand against the cut along Sidekick’s collarbone. Sidekick bit their lip, holding in a cry as Villain slowly leant in and spoke quietly, “Who do you belong to, dove?”

Sidekick whimpered, tears streaming down their face as they rasped out but eventually spoked, “Y-you guys- o-only you guys.” 

Villain’s eyes sparkled with delight and Right Hand smiled, gently massaging Sidekick’s scalp, “Oh, well done, Honey, we’re so proud of you.” Sidekick sobbed as all they could do was lean into the soft, gentle touches. Villain pocketed the knife quickly and cupped Sidekick’s face gently, their thumb brushing along their cheekbone, “I know it's hard, I know, dove. But here with us is where you belong, with us.” Sidekick wanted to fight, everything in them told them to resist. But this is where they belonged.

With them.

[kix-mm]

Dusty’s letters

Terrifying tantrums

Previous - Next

We saw eye to eye, literally. My mother was an average human, while I was already an inch taller than her at just six years old.

To most people, it would be an absolute nightmare to deal with. Just imagine the temper tantrums of an average child. Kicking, biting, screaming, and sometimes even throwing stuff around. Kids that age didn’t always listen either, and I was no different, except my tantrums were dealt with in a very particular manner.

I still remember the look of distress she gave me when I began my tantrum, tipping everything over, throwing whatever I could lift, flailing my arms around while screaming at the top of my lungs. It all happened in a blur, I remember her grabbing my arm and yelling at me to stop, only for her to be violently smacked… I never meant to hurt her like that, I was just so angry, I knew no better way to express it…

When she flew back and hit the floor I suddenly stopped. She tried to hide the pain she was in by looking away from me, holding her red cheek as blood slowly began dripping from her nose. She was just as shocked as I was. I think that was the first time she felt fearful of her own son, me to be specific. I could tell by her shivering voice and her chocked breath that she wasn’t okay. “Mommy..?” I asked in a sheepish tone. “Andy… go to your room.” She replied, she tried to sound stern and almost got away with it if it wasn’t for a soft sniffle.

It was then that I realized that I had hurt her. Badly. Mommy’s bleeding, I thought. I immediately began to panic and shuffled closer, wanting to hold her, or rather, I wanted her to hold me. “Mommy I’m sorry…” I spoke again, feeling more and more worried as she continued to keep her face hidden from me. I held her arm and tried to make her face me, I was unaware at the time, just how strong I was compared to a human, and that made things unintentionally worse between us.

She looked at me with frantic eyes, quickly wiping her tears off her cheeks and smudging the blood on her white sleeve, I never heard my mother cuss before, but I could hear her whisper in a frustrated tone when she saw the blood stain. "shit..."

I gasped, and my expression only became more worried when I saw my mother's state, her cheek was red, and was already beginning to bruise, her nose had smudged blood under it and her eyes were puffy, worst of all she looked scared... my mom... scared... I was the one she was afraid of, I was the monster that scared mommy... I hurt mommy too, like real bad monsters do...

She pulled away from my grip, but I tightened it "mommy-" my plea was cut short as she pulled away from me once more. "Andy... please... go to your room..."

I hesitated, trying to piece together what I could possibly do to avoid being sent away. But ultimately, I came up with nothing and hung my head low as I slanted to my shared room. I made the effort to make sure none of my brothers were there, reading or having a nap, and I pulled my blanket over myself and hugged my pillow as tight as possible before I let myself cry. It was an unsaid rule in our household, tears were something you didn't show, it just made everyone around you uncomfortable and it drew unwanted attention.

I continued to cry for what felt like half an hour until I felt a familiar weight on my bed, it was Jacob. My eldest brother, the voice of reason and at that particular time, the man of the house.

He rests his hand reassuringly on my back, rubbing ever so gently in an attempt to console me. I sat up and rubbed my puffy eyes. It seemed that every one of my brothers was there.

"W-was I too loud?" I said while still sniffing and rubbing my eyes. "The whole house heard it," Roy said sarcastically, but Jacob shook his head. "Branch, did you hit mom?" He asked in a warm and calm tone, yet his expression was rather serious.

I quickly hid my face in the already soaked pillow and started whimpering again. "I d-didn't mean to!" Jacob rubs my head. "We know, calm down, Branch. We know all too well what you're going through... it happens to all of us." He explained, he was right about that. I wasn't as small as I once was, I couldn't be carried like I was before, and now my strength was catching up to me too.

I'd have to start being careful. Or I could hurt mom again, not just mom, I could hurt anyone, anything... it was all so daunting to think about for someone my age.

Eventually, I built up enough courage to go back to my mother, she sat in the kitchen with an ice pack against her cheek. The dark, puffy bags under her eyes made her look restless, her expression was hard to read at the time, but she looked defeated as a mother.

As soon as my mother noticed me her expression drastically changed, hiding her tired eyes, her broken expression with the same warm eyes I was familiar with. Had she always done that? I worried for her... and she noticed.

"Andy... are you feeling better now?" She asked and gently rubbed my cheek. I immediately melted into her touch, hugging her tight. "I'm sorry, Mommy... I'm sorry I hit you... I'm sorry I hurt you..."

She staggered back as I leaned on her, a habit I had yet to break, but one she didn't mind, no matter how old I got. "Oh Andy... my sweet boy... I forgive you, I did so long ago..." he sighs, her body relaxed. The familiar peace had returned between the two of us...

But from then on out, I made an effort to become more self-conscious in my actions. My brothers were a big help with that. They taught me different ways to let off my steam, and that if things ever got too bad for me that I could always just walk away. Roy said it best, what would they do? Stop me? Unlikely unless they were the same size or taller.

Things... weren't always perfect between mother and I. I did still have my moments, and that wasn't my last tantrum... that wasn't even the last time I hurt her... but that was the biggest stepping stone in my life. And I'll never forget that day.

"Thank you, Branch," the neighbor said as they closed their book and took off their glasses. "It was a pleasure to have you back here again." Just then, a little timer rang, right on the dot.

Branch looked over at the clock that was hung up to the right of him. "So this is it for today, then?" The neighbor nods. "Our next appointment will be the same time next week, as usual, i expect you here on Friday at 6 pm." They said as they got up from their chair and stepped over to the door leading to their terrace.

Dusty was playing outside while waiting for her brother to finish his weekly session. Branch smiled as he watched his sister amuse herself with not a care in the world. "How has school been for Dusty?" The neighbor asks as they push the large doors open for Branch. "She's been well, top of the class in art, actually," Branch said with pride as he pushed his way out of the small office. He called for Dusty, who looked over. Oh boy, she had mud in her hair again. Branch sighed. "I guess tonight's another bath night." The neighbor chuckles. "Does she still hate them?" They ask. "Not as much as she used to, unless I forget the rubber duckies and bubbles." Branch said with an amused smirk.

Before the two left, Dusty handed the neighbor the letter, despite her being able to go over to the neighbor whenever she pleased. She seemed to prefer writing instead, and truth be told, the neighbor loved it just as much.

[thatweirdbitchjax]

Hello^^ bro this has been in my mind for so long

The sawyer brothers with a 80s goth s/o:P? U can choose if u want it to be platonic or romantic I don't mind:3

HAIII!!!^^ Dude, whenever you have an idea, I am here to write it (within reason of course). Don't be shy to come on back if you ever wanna request something else! I love receiving requests, and asks in general lol. Sorry, I'm yapping. I'm assuming that you mean the 80s goth style, and I don't know much about it, but I will try my best :]. Anyways, you didn't give a gender, so I'm just gonna do it gender neutral! You also didn't give which ones you wanted exactly, so I'm just gonna do the original three and Chop-Top. This could be determined as romantic with a few aspects, but if you ignore them, it is relatively neutral on romantic and platonic. :3

Goth Meet Sawyer

Bubba Sawyer

He loves your style

It's a little different than what he normally sees, so thats what drew him to you

Yea he got beaten when you weren't killed, but he didn't care, he loved your style

If you be mean to him however, your dead

Please please please do his makeup and let him do yours

Also, help him dress up in your style, he would like to be a goth (he just wants to be like you)

Nubbins and Chop like messing with you by calling you a witch

If you don't like it, Bubba will chase them off for you

Over all, very supportive

Nubbins Sawyer

He also really likes that you are different than the norm

He loves to talk about you

^That's a general headcannon but I'm adding it here anyways

He'll talk to victims, his brothers, he's even talked to road kill about you and how cool you are before

God forbid someone say something about the way you dress, they will be endlessly tortured before they die

Will call you a witch, and does not care if it hurts your feelings (he'll start feeling bad if you start ignoring him tho)

Also very supportive

^Will try and smudge your makeup tho

Chop Top Sawyer

Loves your style

^He has a few records of goth bands, wanna listen to them with him?

Another one that really likes talking about you

He bothers everyone with little facts about you

Often steals clothes he thinks you'll like

Likes calling you a Witch Bitch, and won't stop

^I like to think that he would stop after a while tho, so all you have to do is wait it out

Extremely supportive

Drayton Sawyer

Doesn't care

Like really doesn't care

He'll compliment you and stuff, but not often

Will allow you to play music in the kitchen, but only if you help him with cooking

^You can probably convince him to dance with you if you ask nicely (tug him around until he gives in

Will beat his brothers if they continuously bother you

Hes really in different about it

^thinks you could wear less makeup (it's just his old man coming out dw)

@puppet200 @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @zeroisreallygood @im-a-simp898 @artsycrow46 @evry1h8s-me @aflairforthemelodramaticc @caretaleandotherstuff

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Passionate tangerine smut on wedding night. Female reader. Please & ty

hii!! sorry it’s taken longer than planned, and thank u for being patient. hope it was worth the wait. although I must admit, it did take a slight different turn than wanted it to😭 but hope you still like it. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

consummate the marriage

tangerine x fem!reader

wc—704

warnings— 18+ only, sexually explicit content, mdni

✧.┊MASTERLIST + TAGLIST

Throughout today's ceremonies, there were many stolen glances and lingering touches exchanged between you and your now husband, Tangerine. Every light kiss between conversation or a sweet smile over the swarm of people made it impossibly harder to control your need for him. He looked so handsome in his black suit, happy too. 

By the time you made it back to your hotel floor, you were both a bundle of desperate, horny messes. Your lipstick was smudged from your hurried elevator makeout, while Tan's hair was imperfectly out of place. 

"Come on, come on," you breathlessly pant into his shoulder blade, eagerly stroking his thighs from behind. "Please—”

"Say 'please' like that one more time. I will fuckin' explode right here. I tell you that." 

"Gimme that," you grin, snatching the room key card from his grip. "There we go."

He closes the door with his foot and immediately pushes you up against it, his hands cupping your jaw as he works over your lips, desperately kissing you. He trails kisses down your throat and across your shoulder, working down your arm until he's knelt on the floor before you with your hand in his. 

"What you doing down there?" you say softly, a gentle whimper leaving your lips when you see him ruche the bottom of your wedding dress, rolling it up as he scootches forward, sitting on his knees between your thighs, hiding under the white fabric.

His rough palms graze up your thighs, barely brushing over your skin as if he's trying to tease you. His fingers slip into the waistband of your slinky underwear, sliding the soaked fabric down until it pools around your ankles. His breath is warm and shallow as he exhales over the raging heat between your thighs, skimming your dripping folds with his lips. 

"You have no idea how bad I've been wanting to eat you out today," he whispers against your pussy, the tip of his nose brushing your sensitive nub. "How bad I wanna taste you," he adds, kissing the eager area below your clit. 

Tangerine trails light kisses up your slit, teasing your lips with soft suckles until he reaches your aching clit. The place you desperately wanted him most. 

"Yeah, god— there. Right there," you whine, your head falling back against the door as you push yourself further into his face, guiding him back to where you need him. "Fuck—” you cry out, your legs buckling together when you finally feel the warm, wetness of his tongue cover your clit.

Your brows contort in pleasure as he laps your pussy, giving you what you both want after a day of teasing. He works over your cunt like he's starved, muffling into your folds, telling you how good you taste, how pretty you looked today, how perfect you are for him. 

He praises and worships your pussy as he kneads into your thighs, squeezing the doughy flesh like he's trying to distract himself from his aching erection. 

He stayed there, between the warm comfort of your thighs, as he drew out your release, sucking and licking your pussy until the sweetness of your arousal coats his tongue. Until you were a dripping mess grinding against his face. 

Tangerine carries you to the bed, laying you on the edge as he rolls your dress up, collecting it in a bunch around your hips so he can see the state he made of you, see the moisture of your cum, and his saliva glisten between your thighs.

He wastes no time undressing, pulling his thick cock out the waistband of his boxers, exposing his swollen and leaking tip before slipping himself between your pussy lips, collecting your juices around his head.

"God, you're so fuckin' beautiful," he softly smiles, leaning over your body to entrap your mouth with his own, kissing you tenderly. "My wife."

"Say that again," you whisper against his lips, raking your fingers through his hair, pushing the curly strands out of his face. 

He grips his shaft, guiding his head towards your pretty little hole as he slowly pushes into you, gingerly sinking into your warmth. "Wife," he husks, his voice hoarse as he whispers below your ear. "You're my wife." 

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

tan taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @like-a-fine-skylark @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossom @landryslove @daenerys-supremacy @dontknownameauthor

[luv4divineruler]

soft(ish)!kai anderson x fem!reader

MOVED TO @spectr3inl0ve

synopsis: after a day at the beach with friends u greet kai in the basement, and kiss his cheek, lipstick smudging. however, when u reach into ur bag for a makeup wipe to clean his face, he stops u.

authors note: supposed to be quick but oh well! also if u have any ideas for me please send an ask :))

contains ⚠️: soft kai?

"bye Y/N!" one of your friend calls to you from their shiny red car as you walk up kais driveway. "bye! i had so much fun with you guys!" you call back, smiling as you wave. searching for the copy of the key to the front door that kai had given you, you hear your friends drive away, music leaking out of the open windows. smiling to yourself at the thought of seeing your boyfriend, you unlock the door and head inside, quietly closing the door behind you; kai didnt like loud noises disturbing him while he worked.

after putting your used beach towel in the laundry basket, still in your bikini and shorts and clutching your large handbag (courtesy of kai), you silently make your way down to the basement. as you opened the door kais rapid typing came to a halt, his head turning to see who it was. his mouth was set in a hard line, eyebrows furrowed, but when he realised it was you, his expression softened. he turned back to his laptop, the assault on his keyboard returning. when he didnt tell you to leave, you walked up to him, placing your handbag onto the table where he sat. it was also the very same table he held his pinky power sessions. "hey kai," you greet warmly, smiling. his eyes averted to your arms and shoulders, taking in your sunburnt shoulder blades (sorry if u dont get sunburnt). "hi Lamb, you should be more careful in the sun." he said, his voice monotonous. frowning, you say, "I'm fine, Kai, really." leaning in to kiss his cheek.

he tried his best to hide it, but you still felt the ghost of a smile pull at his lips. you drew back, and admire the stain that your lipstick (whatever colour you choose) left. pleased, you put one hand on the back of his neck, the other cupping his chin. you leaned in to repeatedly kiss his cheek, covering a different spot each time. kai hadnt stopped typing away at his keyboard but, he didnt tell you to stop either. once you were satisfied with the art you made on the side of his face, you pulled away though your hands remained. your boyfriend looked at you curiously, failing to determine what you were trying to do. you hesitated, before giving him a quick, soft kiss on his pretty lips.

kai had stopped working, his full attention on you. the kisses on his cheek had used up all most of your lipstick, leaving nothing but a faint shine on his mouth. you reached into your bag for a makeup wipe. as you searched your bag, kais hand flew to the wrist that rummaged through it. confused, you quickly looked to him, waiting for him to say something. he simply shook his head, murmuring something. "what was that, kai?" you said softly, your hands dropping to your sides. “i said i love you.” he repeated, more firmly. surprised, you blushed and fought back a smile as you said, “i love you too.”.

“i know, Angel.” was all he said as his gaze returned to his too-bright screen, and resumed tapping away at his keyboard.

taglist (dm or comment to be added):

[fvckingwolfstar]

Lipstick, and How Normal Joan is All The Time

Pairing: fem!John Lennon x Fem! George Harrison

summary: George’s lipstick suits her really well. And Joan is so normal all the time

genre: fluff for once!

wc: 1,354

cw: nothing!

authors note: i was called to create lennison fluff, so here we are.

masterlist

It wasn’t a big deal to Joan, really. It was just a shade of lipstick. A deep, satin red, that suited George’s sharp face. Sometimes she would wear a clear lip gloss over it too, which was not a big deal. Occasionally, when her hair was a bit longer, she would style it in a way that so perfectly framed her face. It drew Joan’s eyes right to her dark lips. 

Often, she thought about kissing her, some of the color transferring from her lips to her own. George was wearing that color yesterday, actually. And Joan could not seem to focus on practice. 

“Joan, you missed the entrance,” Paul said, her lips pursed together. 

Joan shook her head, looking back at the guitar in her lap, “Sorry, I’m off it today.”

George was wearing the same lipstick again today, the gloss too. Joan, ever so smart, took off her glasses. During lunch, most of the color had smudged off, so Joan assumed it would be safe to put her glasses back on. As she did, she noticed George pulling a small folding mirror out of her purse. Fuck. She tried not to watch George apply the lipstick across her smooth mouth. And then she tried not to watch her put the pretty clear lip gloss on top of it. And, really she did try, to not watch her rub her lips together, and open them with a cute pop!

Joan blushed, looking down at her sandwich. She didn’t wear makeup when she didn’t have to, and when she did it was only for television. It’s a good day in hell when she wears it on stage. That’s because you don’t do it right. You never use enough powder. Paul would say, patting under her eyes with a puff. 

Joan wouldn’t mind if someone did it for her, to be honest. But it was too much of a hassle to do herself, especially when it never looked good. That night, the girls decided to stay at Paul’s place, due to an early morning. 

Paul’s alarm wakes everyone up with a start, and while Paul trudges to the kitchen to get everyone a cup of tea, Joan’s eyes drift to George on the floor next to her. She’s sat up, her hands slapping her face lightly to wake herself up. She didn’t take her makeup off before she fell asleep, so her lipstick was smudged across her cheek. Oh. Joan sat up beside her and poked her cheek.

George looked over groggily, “Mornin’,” she grumbled, standing up. She stumbled into the kitchen where Joan heard Paul laugh at the sight of her. 

“If you need a wipe, you know I have a thousand.”

“What’re you on about, Macca?”

“Look at your face.”

A second of silence before, “Fuck.”

George walked out of the kitchen with her cup and grabbed her makeup bag, “You weren’t gonna tell me?” She asks Joan and Ringo who still laid in her pile of blankets. 

Joan shrugged, and George rolled her eyes, turning for the bathroom. Joan could see the light emanating from the room, the door wasn’t closed. So she stood up, going to lean on the doorframe. George looked at her from the corner of her eyes as she wiped the color from her cheeks, “Yeah, Len?”

Joan froze, she hadn’t thought about what she would say, and her wit was not coming to her this early in the morning. She settled on, “I like your makeup.”

George furrowed her brows, “Okay.”

“Would you do mine today?” she asked, tugging at the bottom of her shirt, a bit of nerves making it hard to sound confident. 

Luckily, George didn’t seem to notice the nervousness, “Why don’t you ask Paul? She does it better than I do,” she hums, throwing the wipe away. 

Joan shrugged, “I like the way you do it better, Paul’s makes her look too girly.”

George nodded in understanding. “Mhm, I can do yours after mine,” she said, pulling her hair back. Joan nodded and stood there, observing as she put on her moisturizer, “I’ll be a minute,” George hummed, shooting another side-eye her way. Joan swallowed quickly and walked to the kitchen. 

In there, Ringo and Paul leaned against the counter, drinking from their cups lazily. She grabs the lone cup beside them and stands next to Paul. She turns to her, “Do you think I would look good in a lipstick like George’s?”

Paul tilts her head to the side, taking in Joan’s features. After a moment she hums, “No, you’d be better in a neutral color. Maybe a soft pink?” she said, contemplating, “Ooh, or peach.”

Ringo nodded, “Peach would be nice, I think I have some if you want to use it.”

Joan nodded, going back to her tea. George came out of the bathroom about twenty minutes later. She looked at Joan, “Ready now?” she asked. Joan bit back a smile as she followed George into the bathroom, her lipstick fresh on her mouth. No gloss today, which would help Joan keep her focus better. 

George instructed her to sit on the counter, which Joan obeyed, her legs kicking slightly as George rummaged through her makeup bag. “Do you want to learn how to do your own makeup, or do you just want me to do it?”

Joan smirked, “You know the answer to that.”

George nodded and went to stand in front of her, she took a generous amount of moisturizer on her fingers and dotted it across her forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin. When she started gently rubbing it in, Joan could feel her cheeks burn pink. This close, she didn’t need her glasses to see George clearly. She exaggerated her cupid’s bow with the beautiful color. And her full bottom lip seemed to be even poutier. She also noticed the soft shimmery purple eyeshadow and mascara. The purple made her brown eyes look larger, more like a doe. She hadn’t done her hair yet, but it was let out of the ponytail it was once in, and the soft waves of her bangs fell in her eyes. 

George had moved onto blush by now, dusting a sweet rose color across her cheeks. “I think you’d look good with an eyeliner,” George notes, absentmindedly. 

Joan blushed at the thought of George putting eyeliner on her, “Go for it, then.”

George grinned excitedly, her shoulders coming up quickly. She reached for her bag again and pulled out an eyeshadow palette, mascara, and the previously mentioned eyeliner. 

“Eyes closed,” she said. She dusted a light taupe on her outer crease. Then a darker brown in the deeper parts of her eyes. She used a flesh pink for her inner eyes. “Okay, hold still,” George cupped Joan’s face with her hand to steady her, and Joan could not breathe. She opened her eyes and George tsked, “Eyes closed.” 

Joan glanced at her lips again before doing as told. She leaned in close enough that Joan could feel her breath hit her face gently, the breaths coming out steadily as she focused on the task at hand. When George pulled away after several excruciating minutes, Joan opened her eyes again. 

“Look up,” she hums, and Joan obeys as told. George carefully puts mascara on her top and bottom lashes, “There, gorgeous,” She said proudly, putting the makeup back in her bag.

“Don’t I need lipstick?” Joan asked.

“‘M not sure if I have a color that fits you,” she said, rummaging through her bag again. When she looked back at Joan again, Joan leaned in and kissed her softly. George’s eyebrows raise in surprise, a blush creeping to her cheeks, “What was that for?” She asked once Joan pulled away. 

“Did I get any on me?” she asked, turning to the mirror, a little bit of her lipstick had transferred to her, a bit of the satin sheen shining on her lips. 

“You could use a bit more,” George said softly, a smile playing at her lips. 

Joan grinned and kissed her again, hopefully getting the pink color Paul talked about.