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aimfor-theheart · 4 months ago

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thinking about mafia!reader going lingerie shopping and vi having to be there; reader obviously is gonna be an insufferable tease, parading around in one of those massive private changing rooms (she's getting free champagne too, bc ofc she is) posing in front of the full length mirrors like "what do you think, vi? do you like this color on me?"

i’m grabbing you by the shoulders. you can’t just put this in my head. i'm so cooked.

brush the sky no. 3: fantasy

minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+

vi x reader || part two || masterlist

tags: mafia au, bodyguard!vi, femme!reader, longing, a little angst.

wc: 2.7k what the hell

cw: alcohol mention/very suggestive. nsfw-ish. not beta read or edited at all lol.

Vi is not known for her patience.

In a spacious, private changing room of a boutique lingerie shop, she scrubs a hand over her face and tries to prepare herself for the next time you come out from behind the plush, velvet curtains.

Her glass of champagne sits untouched besides yours, which is nearly halfway empty.

This is only the second set you’re trying on but—to Vi, it might as well be the twentieth. The first set had already sent her spiraling, when you had come out in dainty lilac, some little baby-doll dress that you flounced around in. It had inspired images and fantasies of you the morning after, hair tousled and still sleep warm, the sun streaming in through your bedroom window. Some picture of domesticity that Vi cannot be thinking of you in.

The curtain swings back.

You’re in crushed blue, dark and rich and silky. A slinky little slip dress which allows for a peak of the lace blue panties underneath. Vi's eyes go towards the ceiling and she swears she's gonna keep 'em glued there as you come out to strut around and look at yourself in the large, three panel mirror.

And you do that for a moment, Vi can see it in the blurry peripheral of her vision. You twist and turn, examining yourself, and the lingerie and how it moves.

Then, "Vi?"

Your voice is so sweet and inquiring that she grinds her teeth together so hard she fears she'll chip one.

"Yeah, princess?" She doesn't take her eyes off the ceiling.

"How do you like this one?" You press innocently, like the absolute demon you are.

"Not about how I like it," Vi tries to say evenly, "more about how you like it."

"But I want a second opinion." And she can almost hear the pout in your voice and she really can't look or she'll—

"Are you tryin' to kill me, sweetheart?" Vi finally asks.

And she jolts a little when she suddenly feels the careful press of your fingertips to her chin, her jaw. She hadn't even heard you move and—suddenly you're there��in front of her, gently guiding her face down to your gaze.

She swallows hard as she takes you in, the silk fabric shimmering like a night sky, like the ripple of dark waters. Some siren song, the way it dips to reveal the swell of your—

"Can't you help a girl out?" You ask sweetly, mischief dancing in your eyes, her chin still delicately trapped between your fingers. "I'm having a hard time deciding."

Vi has to drag her eyes back up to your face. And then she tips back, slouching into the plush couch, releasing herself from the hold you have on her. She groans, head tipping back as she desperately searches for some other excuse but—

At the end of the day, she can't deny you.

"Alright," she says and feels like she's signing her soul away, "let's see."

And then she picks herself back up, sits up, and takes a full look at you.

She inhales sharp and small.

You're a vision in midnight blue.

Of course it looks good on you, and she's already thinking about how those little straps look mighty thin and weak—

"What do you think?" You ask, smoothing out the fabric with a quick pass over your torso and hips that Vi watches carefully.

"I mean, you'd look good in a paper bag, princess—"

"But what's it saying, you know? Pretend you're my partner." You say and Vi feels her heart kick up into some unsteady, miserable rhythm. The tips of her ears burn, too. "And you come home from a long day—" Your voice drifts softer and Vi, without thinking, leans towards you like she's hypnotized, caught under your spell, "and walk into the bedroom, looking for me, and I'm in this."

You take a step back and showoff the set.

And Vi, heaven help her, pictures it all. Pictures you on the bed in this little number, waiting for her. Pictures the cat's curl of your lips, the mischief that she'll taste when she kisses you. Mostly, she pictures you as her girlfriend, pictures you waiting for her, singing her name when she comes home to your arms and—

"I mean, if I'm your partner, no lingerie is staying on you for long." She says before she can stop herself.

You laugh, and scold, "Vi!"

And she's smiling because she made you laugh, but she knows what you mean—she knows what you're asking for.

"But—it's classy. You know? It's definitely the lingerie of a mobster's wife. Powerful. A little cold, maybe."

You hum in thought, turning towards the mirror again to examine yourself. You announce, "I agree." And in a flurry of silk, you're back behind the curtain, and you're stripping into the next set.

Vi lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

But when you emerge again, she sucks it right back in—sharp, quick.

Damn.

You're in lacy black. Far less fabric this time around. Swirling pattern, dark panties, and a lacy bralette that clings to you in all the right ways. You look—

Vi whistles.

Dangerous. Sinful. You look—

"Oh, you like this one?" You ask over your shoulder as you turn towards the mirrors to examine yourself.

"This one's—" Vi searches for the right words and simply comes up empty handed, "yeah, I like this one."

You laugh, posing and primping in the mirror, straightening out the fabric resting along your breasts or seeing how it looks to jut your hip out. Vi watches your body, the way it moves beneath the lace, and has to keep her thoughts from spinning away from her.

You turn to face her, to show the set off a bit more. "So this one is better than the previous. What's this one saying?"

Vi gathers her patience. Swallows around it.

"That you want your makeup ruined." Vi says and she's not just trying to be funny, but you laugh anyways. And it's scandalized, a little surprised, but bursts from you in a sweet sound. Vi glows in it, leans into it. "Like you're looking for trouble."

You bite your lip, smile tucked beneath teeth, "I guess I am." You agree, but then you press, "does it look—?"

Vi waits for you to find the word.

"Too slutty?" You ask. "Is that a bad thing?" You then follow up with. And you're seeking, earnest, as you look at her. Something about this flicker of insecurity—or, genuinely seeking her advice, sets Vi off in a new way. God, you're cute.

Vi's fingers curl into a fist.

"I mean, not when it's a surprise for your partner. Nothing's too slutty for that." Vi drawls, "I wouldn't want you wearing this around anyone else—" Her eyes, burning blue like the too-hot part of a flame, sweep up your body to find your eyes, "if I was your partner."

And for once, she sees you audibly fluster. She watches as your lashes flutter a little, at the way you blink at her. Your mouth pops open a little. You clear your throat.

"Right��" You get out, "who else would I wear it in front of?"

"Your bodygaurd, apparently."

You laugh, recovering again.

"Ah—" You wave her off, "that's just because it's you. If I had a different one, they'd be waiting outside."

"You like tormenting me." Vi finally complains, "who knew you were such a little sadist?"

Your smile turns wicked, a little sharp, "Oh yeah, poor you, getting to oggle me in lingerie."

"You know what you're doing, princess." Vi retorts, "Letting me look but not touch."

You linger nearer to her, stepping carefully to stand between her spread legs. Vi holds perfectly still, feels her traitorous heart ratchet up inside her chest.

"You could touch if you wanted, you know?" You say softly, looking down at her. You even reach out, let your fingers skim along her jaw. "You're the only one imposing this rule—who knew you were such a masochist?"

Vi looks up at you, leans into the touch at her jaw, "Yeah, I'm a real glutton for pain, huh?"

Your knee comes up on the outside of her thigh, almost straddling her waist. "It could be you that I'm waiting for—in bed, in this."

Vi curses.

Your lips lift into a smile.

Vi sounds genuinely mournful, "You know I can't be, sweetheart."

You sigh, fingers skimming around the slope of her neck, "It could be our secret."

Vi considers it for a moment; sneaking around with you, slipping into your bed in the middle of the night. She thinks about what it might be like to be yours, even in secret. But she knows—she knows it's too good to be true. In this line of work, secrets are dangerous. Secrets put those you love in danger.

Vi reaches up, hand coming up to your waist for a moment. She let's her thumb trace the lace at your hip, even slips beneath for a moment to feel your skin, unobstructed. She hears your inhale of breath, feels the way your eyes burn through her.

"You got more to show me?" Vi asks.

"Yeah," You breathe, "One more."

She taps your thigh a little, urging you up, urging you away, "Go on then," She says gently, "Show me, sweetheart."

You look at her a moment, fully, with all of your desire and your—feelings for her. It's more than lust, she realizes with a start, the look in your eyes. It's sincere—it's something tender and desperate and—

Reluctantly, you part from her, returning behind the curtain and Vi wonders if you can see the same feeling mirrored back in her own eyes. She wonders if she looks at you that way, too.

When you step out again, Vi doesn't have anything smart to say.

This set is burgundy. It's sheer, with these beautiful, flower details. And the straps are all silk ribbon. Two small bows at your hips, one over the nape of your neck. It's dainty but it's—blush dark and sultry. It's classy, but warm. It's the perfect amount of risque. Vi can only think about how delicately she'd unlace those bows, unwrap you slowly—

(She wants to ruin your makeup in it, yeah, but she also wants to make love to you in this set—wants it slow and dirty and passionate—)

You fix the ribbons in the mirror, you adjust your hair and you turn to her. Stand there, in all your beauty.

"How's this one?" You ask.

"Perfect." Vi says, a little more hushed than she intends. "I mean they all are but—" She let's out a breath, shaking her head, "This one's a knockout, princess."

"Yeah?" You ask, lighting up, and Vi wants to kiss you so bad she almost aches. She wants to take you home.

"Yeah." She agrees, knowing she's not the one who'll be seeing you in this.

(And you're smiling, but thinking, you'll buy it—and no one'll see you in it. Who else are you going to wear it for, except her? Who else, except Vi?

After this, it'll sit in your closet, untouched, until she wants you.)

"Now go change, before I do something I shouldn't." Vi says, dragging a hand through her hair, scrubbing it down her face. "You've tormented me enough for one day, sweetheart."

"Maybe I should tempt you a little further, then." You say, "kept hoping you would suddenly join me behind the curtain, step into there while I was changing and—"

Vi says your name, short and sharp and desperate to get you to stop because she can't take the thought of it. Her face flushes with warmth.

"Go put your clothes back on." Vi commands, trying to scrub the thought from her head desperately.

"Sure you don't wanna join me?"

"No—!" Vi says, rubbing at her eyes, "I mean—fuck. Of course I want to. I can't. Go change!"

Your laugh retreats, back behind the curtain, and Vi blows out a breath of air. A huff of a laugh. When you emerge, you're dressed again, back in your blouse and your skirt and your little heels and frilly socks. You head to the front of the store to check out. The price is too high and at least, that might stop Vi from ripping them, if she knew—

While you're walking home, you tuck into her side. Vi can't deny you, so she let's herself have this; her arm falls around your shoulders. It feels natural, easy, to have you like this.

"You know, I got both sets." You say, impish smile tugging at your lips, "the black and the burgundy one."

Vi's brows raise.

"So, if you ever wanna see them again..." You trail off, "You can pick."

"God, you're such a brat."

You laugh, bright and wonderful and filling the air—Vi aches, happy and longing and so full of you she could burst.

You duck out from her arm, wander further ahead. The city gleams from fresh rain, and you seem to as well. The sun has just returned and fuck, it must favor you—with the way you look, golden and lovely.

You turn over your shoulder to look at her, smile sharp and brilliant, "I'll get you yet, Vi."

"Gotta work a little harder, sweetheart. I'm stubborn." Vi says, but even then, she doesn't mean it.

Even when she says it, she's thinking;

Oh, don't I know it, princess.

(And—you already have me.

I'm already yours.)

#vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #brush the sky #cielo writes!#cielo's writing!#cielo chats!

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 8 months ago

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I love your writing am and i always seem to go back to your sally face fic and i would love something similar to that but with sally and i would love to see if you could incorporate substance use (ex. weed) not to a dangerous extent but almost seen as inviting. with ftm reader again! ofcs you can take this request and do what you like with it!! i just love your writing sm and i want to see more sally face content:)

❝ If you think I’m pretty put your hands on me, know I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it ❞

warnings: recreational use of marijuana, some guilt from Sal because he vowed not to smoke as a child but r! reassures him, Sal mentions painkiller addictions, mentions of hospitals and wounds, mentions of scarring, shotgun kisses, handjobs, fingering, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock)

masterlist ; "I was the boy who was on your side"

authors note: I FORGOT TO FILL THIS UHM UHHH IM BACK?

*song on repeat: Romeo by Until The Ribbon Breaks

He's been drumming his fingers across his knees for a full 20 minutes now. A never-ending symphony of thumps occasionally disturbed by pauses of silence as he picked at the ripped edges of his jeans. You suppose you understand the anxiety that was racking through him, despite the reassurances you'd given him, he was bound to have some second thoughts. "Hey, baby," you tap the steering wheel, an elbow propped onto your window sill panel. Despite your eyes being glued on the road, you're acutely aware of his gaze on yours.

"Ya' didn't have to come along if you didn't want to," at your words he shakes his head. "No — Sorry, I didn't mean to come off that way, baby." Sal reaches out and places a hand on your knee, squeezing it just enough to have you decompressing your nerves.

"No, no. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," you clasp his hand and squeeze him back, the road will be fairly emptier now that you've driven past the bridge. "You just look a little nervous is all, I was jokin' 'bout you needing to follow along. I was just teasing you, Sal." "I know. I wanted to spend time with you, (Y/N). Which is why I followed along even though I knew you were just fucking with me," he sighs, allowing the song playing on the radio to filter in the silence for a few seconds. "It's just, buying drugs, makes me a liiittle nervous."

A chuckle escapes you and you risk staring at Sal for a bit. "You've dealt with poltergeists and the like, the baloney incident, and buying a little ganja is making you sweat?"

“Shut up,” he groans as he slips his hand up and lands a muted smack on your thighs. “Poltergeists can land me in a psychiatrist's office, this could land us in jail.”

“At least we’ll be together in a small cell,” you coo and Sal rolls his eye with a scoff. “We’re not gonna get caught, ya’ big baby. I’ve done this a thousand times with Larry, Todd, and Ashley — we’ll be fine. Promise.”

It went more than fine. Underwhelming actually. He had expected a more intense, whispered, exchanges with some weirdly firm handshake while the other dude slipped you the weed. He had even lifted the hood of his hoodie up to make the both of you less identifiable. It was adorable.

Your dealer had come down from their apartment. Sal seeing her brightly coloured pink tie-dye sweatpants from the slat of the stairs, and the cheerful wave she gave you once she took notice of your car.

“Was wondering when you’d text. I got your favourite.”

She’s leaned on your rolled-down windows, discretely holding the pink paper bag of weed in front of her chest and bouncing it around. She extends her other hand first, and Sal is silent as you reach for the cash from the cup holder.

In that pause of conversation, she takes notice of him and recognition is crystal clear.

“O-M-G, is that Sal, the boyfriend?” You chuckle while Sal stutters in surprise. Handing her the cash, she graciously exchanges it with the bag.

“Yeah, he’s following along with me running errands.” “Cute,” she coos. After a few pleasantries, she leans away. That small pink paper bag between your legs barely able to distract your boyfriend from her excited wave of goodbye — that you return obviously.

“You talk about me with her?” you glance at him for a second then laugh. “Dude, most of us get our weed from her. She eventually gets to know the side characters in our lives the longer she interacts with us.”

He scoffs, crossing his arm as he leans back in the seat.

“Side characters? Seriously?” “Duh,” you pick the bag up and shake it in his face teasingly. “Everyone knows the main characters participate in drug culture and the side characters don’t.”

“This is the peer pressure my father warned me about.”

You giggled at his joke as you place the bag between your thighs again. This time, Sal’s eyes follows it.

He’s seen you and Larry smoke before. Hell, most of his friends smoke on the back porch while he’ll be mindlessly cleaning up as he waits for all of you to herd back inside. He’s never felt left out, you guys were simply respecting his wishes is all. He wasn’t much of a fan of drinking or smoking. But he wouldn't stop anyone from doing it, as long as no one got too inebriated.

Though, for some reason, he just can’t take his eyes away from that pink bag.

“Mhm, next thing you know, you’ll look like those anti-bullying posters. All the stoners will point and laugh while you have big ole’ sad cat eyes.”

The imagery makes him laugh softly and he glances at your face as the scenery zooms past beside you.

When you reach home, the house is empty. A note was left on the kitchen fridge by Todd, something about him and his boyfriend going on a date.

Just you, Sal and Gizmo.

It makes his palms clammy and his nerves turning up his sensitivity a few notches.

You greeted Gizmo with a few chin scratches. Settling on the living room couch with crossed legs, you open the bag one handedly while you lean over to the catch-all bowl on the coffee table for the lighter and your MP3 player.

All the while, he stands in the kitchen threshold. Like a kid who knows they’ve done something they’re definitely shouldn’t have done — the guilt was just radiating from him. It made you toss your head to the side when you took notice of him, a joint hung loosely between your lips.

“You good, baby?”

He nods, your words setting him into motion as he sits on the couch.

“I’m not gonna smoke inside,” you reassure with a smile. Why else would he stare at you like that, right?

He nods again. Oddly quiet. Gizmo yawns and sinks further down onto the couch, watching the TV show with an almost human-like concentration. Nobody says anything about it anymore. He’s just a little guy, really.

You lean over, joint plucked out and resting between the second knuckle of your pointer and middle finger this time, and give his cheek a kiss.

“See you in a bit.”

He watches like he always does. There’s nothing to clean. It’d be weirder if he attempted to look busy. So he glances at the TV, then at Gizmo and then at your back as you sit down on the porch. He can hear the muffled sounds of you flicking the lighter, and shortly after he sees the white smoke that slithers upwards into the air along with the sounds of your favourite band quietly playing.

You thought you hadn’t closed the sliding doors properly when you hear the approaching footsteps. Turning your head to check, you’re surprised to spot Sal walk through the doors to move and settle next to you.

You cough out some smoke. Attempting to fan it away with your hand while you reach to put out the joint in the ash tray that Ashley had made. But Sal stops you as he knocks your knees together, his thigh pressing against yours as he peers at you.

“Sal?”

“...Say hypothethically, a side character wants to dip his toes in some drug culture." Your eyes widen considerably at his confession.

“Huh?” you squeak out. Sal sighs, regret creeping up on him as he scratches the back of his head. The smell of the weed doesn’t exactly help either — it was so distinct.

“Wait, no, sorry. I’m just, this isn’t because of peer pressure is it?” You did mini-hops, getting close enough to him for your thighs to press together. Yet you still held the clay ash tray an arms length away, especially as you note the sharp inhale and exhale he'd made.

Sal’s deadpanned expression makes your eyebrows jump.

“This was dumb,” He admits. “No — no, it isn’t. I was just caught off-guard. Are you...curious?”

Sal nods sheepishly. You lean back on the heel of your hand, the other still holding onto the tray, your finger mindlessly keeping the still-lit joint perched between your digit and the rim of the tray. You think for a moment, then huff in amusement.

“Damn, you still manage to surprise me even after all these years.”

“You’re making it sound like we’ve been married for 50 years,” he retorts. “We will be, I’m just practicing these phrases out loud so you don’t get heart failure in the future.”

This time, Sal’s shoulders shake as he laughs. It dies down as he sees you take a drag, and breathe out the plumes of smoke. Not directly at him, but in his general direction. The smell isn’t something he’s used to. Not this close anyways. Usually, it’s just stuck on your clothes but you reach for the bottle of Febreze strategically placed near the sliding doors anyway so it's more muted.

It. . .doesn’t completely suck. The earthiness of it making his shoulders less tense. You watch his reaction closely, the corners of your lips in a gentle curve as he leans back onto his hands.

You take another drag and Sal’s enraptured at the way the end of your joint glows bright orange. He feels almost envious of the way you swallow the smoke, how you harbour it within your mouth before it slips past your lips. You’re looking at him, just basking in the moment for a little longer before you ask him to play your favourite songs.

It was just beginning to get dark, the sky was setting up for its finale of the day and he was enraptured as you explain what shotgun kisses were.

"I have smoked a cigarette before," he says, brows furrowed as he unbuckles his prosthetic. "Yeah, and nearly coughed up both of your lungs. This will be smoother for you, trust me."

"So I just inhale what you exhale?" "Mhm, easy as pie, right?"

His placed his prosthetic next to him, turning his head and immediately seeing your face invading his vision. "Hi," he smiled at your attempt to keep your smile at bay by chewing on your lower lip.

"Hi," he replies, his anxiety lessening at the sight of your confidence and giddiness. You bring the joint to your lips. He can hear the paper burning and sees tendrils of smoke escaping through your lips. Your words echoed in his brain as you lean in further.

“Just breathe it in slowly, baby."

He feels the smoke across his face, your lips pouted as you blow it his way. Sal breathes it in, sucking the smoke in just like you’d demonstrated earlier. He coughs like you said he would. His eye-watering as he moves to sit and you carefully pat his back as he does.

“Shit,” your eyes squish at his flustered expression. His first time trying a cigarette playing briefly through your head. Though this time it wasn’t even half-bad.

“You did great. Didn't burn on the way down if you smoked it yourself, right?” he got what you meant. He was coughing but he didn't feel like the back of his throat got thwacked by a whip of burning paper and tobacco. The ride was smoother, way smoother with your help. “It feels like the smell is stuck onto my teeth." Sal only complains to see you look at him with that fond gaze. You took another drag as he smacks his lips a few times. Your eyes flutter close, sighing in relief, and tossing your head to the side as you feel yourself loosening up.

“Why do you think I always brush my teeth before I kiss you?”

Sal protests softly as you take another hit and you laugh as he leans in.

“Isn’t that too much — “

You breathe out and Sal seems stunned for a moment, so you apologize but he simply leans in further.

“If this'll be my first time getting high, I want it to be with you.”

"Slow down, baby," you bumped your foreheads together, cupping his jaw in your hand. "What's the rush, hm?"

Curiousity was a valid enough reason to start smoking, but your Sal wasn't the kind of guy to jump into these things head first. It wasn't anything special to him, all of your friends smoked and drunk. He wasn't some pre-teen being excited to finally "grow up" and get in with the cool kids.

Hell, even during his 21st birthday, he'd taken his first drink and smoked his cigarette and decided that he didn't enjoy any of them.

Sal sighs, dropping his weight on you. His head balanced between the curve of your neck and shoulder. You simply thread your fingers through his hair, combing out the indents of his buckles and straps from his hair.

"You think I can't take it?"

"Oh, I definitely know you can't."

He protests with an indignant but whiny 'hey' but settles. His arms wrap around your waist and despite the uncomfortable angle of your torso facing him while your legs faced ahead as they rested on the stairs, you stay like that for a bit.

He eventually pulls away and leans back onto his arms again, reaching for his prosthetic though only to fidget with it on his lap.

"...Is it bad I feel bad? Not physically, just...morally?"

Your silence urges him on. So he continues; “Drinking fucking sucks, and cigarettes don’t make sense to me. But weed as a concept always seemed...appealing to me.”

He feels your chin on his shoulder and he subtly breathes in the smoke that teases him as you exhale.

“But?”

“Argh, it’s stupid. But as a kid, in the hospital there weren’t a lot of people that got as messed up as I did. But the ones that were? Christ, babe, they were in so much pain. Even when the wounds were already scars.”

Your brows pinch. You squeeze his hand and he stops toying with feeling the shape of the bolts to instead gently press the pads of his thumb over your nails.

“The doctors scared me with the whole speech. Painkillers being addictive and all that, it made me scared to ask for ‘em even when the skin grafts felt like they were on fucking fire.”

He shuts his eyes and brings your hand to his face, the pressure and warmth across his jaw and cheek making the phantom pains ebb to nothing.

“I made a promise to my younger me that I would never end up like the adults I saw. I just, don’t want to be in constant pain.”

“You aren’t, Sal. And you won’t be.”

You put out the joint, turning his face to you and planting a kiss on his lips. He breathes out a sigh of relief through his nose and you tilt your head to deepen it. When you pull away, you both linger in the afterglow of it for a second.

“I’m here for you, Sal. If you ever stray from the path, I’m here to guide you back, right? You’ve got me and Larry, Lisa and your dad, Ashley, Todd, Gizmo —” his smile widens as you go on about the precious people in his life.

“Thanks,” he kisses you again and you happily reciprocate.

“By the way, you’re right, you should always brush your teeth before you kiss me when you’re done smoking up.”

Sal laughs as you shove him back, watching admiringly while you light the joint up again.

“...Can I have another hit?”

“You just said my breath smells like ass —”

“You’re overreacting!”

By the time the two of you walk back inside, Gizmo’s nose is twitching. You hadn’t taken too much too be completely useless, just to start feeling that buzz and take the edge off. Sal had expected more of a droopy, drowsy, feeling when he entered the house.

He still feels like himself. A little light on his feet, but still himself. You had paced him from his little smoke-sucking sessions — teasing that he just wanted to kiss you which wasn’t entirely untrue. But you always pulled away just as his eyes would flutter. Most likely you getting back at home for saying your breath smelled like weed. Little tease.

You spray your clothes down, then ask Sal if he’d like to chill on the couch. Something in his brain perks up hard enough to make his penis do the same. He feels a bit shameful of it, but then again, everything you do could make him hard.

The other day you’d been wolfing down some cheesy fries with Ashley and somehow it made Sal have to think of baloney to shut his penis down.

Gizmo’s tail flicks knowingly as Sal sits at the end of the couch, which was his cue to set off to the basement instead. When Sal hears the TV turns on from there, he simply decides to never question how dexterous Gizmo's thumbs were.

You're laid out on the couch with your tummy showing and your eyes just a bit hazy. He knows weed affects people differently; why does it make his lust for you feel so thick? Like cloying, thick, honey dripping down from the back of his throat. Fuelling him in an unfamiliar, alien, way. He climbs over you and the half-lidded gaze you look up at him with makes his mouth feel drier than it is.

This lust is new. It’s more languid in it’s desire — akin to a beast stretching its back only to flop down to its side and show its belly. Still undeniably dangerous, yet so inviting with its soft underbelly and demure paws.

You seem to recognize this beast, lips stretching into a toothy grin.

“Need something handsome?”

He narrows his eyes at you. Then, he places a hand on your chest, fingers brushing along your collarbones before it slowy slips downwards.

“...I really wanna finger you.”

He seems to catch himself. Through that haze that makes him caught between wanting to curl up next to you for a nap or fucking you nice and slow, he finds the part of him that remembers embarrassment.

But before it could throw away his new lazy bravado, you surge up to kiss him, moaning the second your lips made contact.

Stoned Sal decides pants are way too annoying very quickly on. He huffs and puffs at the obstacles that are called buttons and zippers. When he finally undoes them, he pulls your jeans below the swell of your ass and brings the heel of his hand to your clothed cock.

The pressure has your teeth brushing over your lips.

“I love your dick,” he murmurs, “it’s just s’fuckin’ pretty.”

You moan airily, wishing he’d pull your pants all the way down but he is just too entraced at the sight of the wet spots he’s seeing. He traces the fold of your cunt and your breath hitches as he presses a finger through. Not enough to be inside of you, but enough to have your dick twitch.

He brings his thumb to rub against it and you groan.

“Let me take my jeans off, Christ, Sal.”

He chuckles, suddenly abandoning your pussy to pin your hips down. “Barely touched you and you already wanna spread your legs f’me?”

You glare at him, feeling your cheeks heat up as you hitch yourself up onto the couch and stubbornly shimmying out of your pants. He simply watches, uncaring of the less-than-delicate display. You toss your jean away and your underwear follows along, piling onto the floor somewhere.

“The weed is making you so chatty, hm?” you don’t get much out of you after that as Sal immediately claims your lips again. He doesn’t even wait for you to lay back down as he brings his hand between your legs.

Not exactly hasty but not taking his time either. He pulls away enough that the spit between your lips break, but you can still feel him groan when he feels the dewdrops of moisture on your cunt; the slick that coats his finger makes him whisper your name.

“So wet,” he marvels. Your legs twitch at his movements. Sliding up and down, pressing in just to make your breath hitch but never fully slipping inside.

Oh fuck.

Stoned Sal likes to tease.

Your dread is shortlived as he descends his kisses to your neck. You groan, clutching onto the back of his shirt as he mottles your neck with unapologetically languid kisses.

You’re whimpering underneath him as he hums and groans. Using his teeth and making hickey after hickey, dark and tender — he’d even brush his teeth along them just to hear you gasp.

Meanwhile, he continues to torture your poor cunt. Bringing his thumb into the fray again as he rubs circles on the tip of your cock. The tip of his fingers spreading your slick around your lips, making it messier and messier.

“Sal, please just fuckin’ finger me already,” you whine out. Turning your head away and arching your back as he sets his eyes on your nipples.

“I’m already — Shit, Sal. I’m already so hard.”

He knows. You don’t have to remind him.

“Don’t make me beg, baby, please.”

Sal bites down on your nipple just as he pushes his finger inside of you. He groans at the feeling of your boypussy clamping down. Fuck, you felt good.

So soft and warm and wet and tight.

He slips another finger in and neither of you are surprised at how eagerly your cunt lets it in.

Sal’s lips pause in their conquest as he looks down between your legs. Fuck, what a sight it was. The happy trail you have that always makes his cock jump in his pants — there it goes again — and that beautiful dick that he always loves choking on to that boypussy that he’s convinced is made for him.

He starts pumping his fingers. In and out in a steady rhythm. Adoring every noise that comes out of you. You take them well, all the way down to the base and when he angles his palm just right your hips buck to grind your cock against his hand.

Fuck, you were perfect.

He kisses you. Breathing through his nose as he bites down on your already swollen lower lip — relishing in this. In you.

He adds another finger and you mewl. It makes him laugh.

You were usually much more headstrong. When he teases, you tease back. The weed is working in his favour, you were so pliant. Melting under him and already close to your first orgasm.

When he curls his fingers, you toss your head back, mouth opening in a silent scream. Your hand dives between your legs to rub your cock and Sal watches your face as you jeek yourself off.

“Just like that, just like that — Oh, oh—ah! Fuck!”

He doesn’t falter his pace, moaning out curses as you clamp down around his fingers.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum for me.”

His voice undoes you.

You buck your hips as wetness covers his hand. He groans, praising you as he continues to pump in and out. You let him, simply curling your toes and panting as you just kept on cumming and cumming.

When he kisses you this time, he doesn’t even let you breathe. Just swallowing your noises as he finger-fucks you through your orgasm and makes you barrel to your second with no breaks.

You clutch at his shirt, feeling lightheaded but unwilling to ask him to stop.

“Keep going, Sal. Please, please.”

How could he say no?

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #sally face #sally face x reader #sally face x male reader #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x male reader

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olenvasynyt · 2 months ago

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TAKE A TOUR OF ELUCIEN’S HOUSE WITH ME PART 1

See part 2

(This will be a long post but it’s mostly pictures)

So Elain and Lucien would live in a house that’s sort of a cross between victorian-style and a classic cottage-style. It wouldn’t be too big and grand but it’s still good for hosting parties. It would be painted yellow and would be surrounded by tons of gardens (ofc). The front door would be painted a bright color like blue or green and has stained stained glass panels with floral designs. Very Edwardian, super whimsical and romantic.

The foyer would be brightly lit and have a grand staircase leading up to the second floor. Baskets for foraging would be sitting ready for Elain when she goes out to the gardens. It would be cluttered but also still elegant and welcoming.

Living room's color palette would be green, pink, and yellow: lots of earth tones and is just super colorful. Again, super cluttered with tons of stuff on the walls, tons of little trinkets, rugs, plants, books, etc. They would always have tea and a fresh bouquet of flowers on the table. I picture high ceilings and a staircase that leads to a blacony that overlooks the living room.

They would have a crazy gorgeous fireplace like these:

The whole house would have tons of natural lighting with big bay windows: they HAVE to have one of these little reading nooks / breakfast bars or something like that.

They would have a grand dining room for hosting and a smaller eating area in their kitchen for more intimate breakfasts.

They also need a pretty archway between two rooms like these:

Kitchen is white and green and always clean. The kitchen island is good for hosting and would have a cool floral lamp hanging above it.

AND PART 2! Elucien's bedroom, the kid's room, bathrooms, and other fun roomssss

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #dana pinterest / headcanons #acotar #acotar headcanons #acotar moodboard

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murfeelee · 6 months ago

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TW3 GoW File Dump!

This set includes 22 items converted from God of War 2018, for your sims of the Spartan and/or Norse persuasion!

Alfheim Light Crystal as Light (Floor | Wall)

Alfheim Tree (10k Polys)

Bifrost as Table Light

Coin Piles 3 | 4 (§10000, ANI Moneybag Script REQUIRED) (found in Hobbies/Skills)

Dragon Arc as Decor

Dragon Firepit (8k Polys)

Elf Statue (10k Polys)

Floor Panel as Rug

Leaves (Giant | Not So Giant)

Jotnar Shrines as Wardrobe (10k Polys) (SN EP REQUIRED)

Kratos Vase

Lemnos Juice as Drinkable Beverage (ARSIL MOD REQUIRED)

Lemnos Wine as Drinkable Beverage (ARSIL MOD REQUIRED)

Library Sconce (Wall Light)

Lyre as Guitar

Nornir Chest as Land Chest (IP EP REQUIRED) (found in Debug)

Rock Face as Wall Climbing (found in Hobbies/Skills)

Scroll Case as 2-Storey Bookcase (20k Polys)

Wall Ivy (10k polys)

And here are 9 far lazier items only inspired by GoW, not directly converted from it:

EA's Double Doors RETEXTURED

EA's Ranch Stones Column RETEXTURED (PETS EP REQUIRED)

Elven Family Lock as Decor (Animated)

Decor Glass Crow (Wings Down | Wings Up)

Idunn Apple as WA EP Edible Morsel (GLOWS)

Light Bridge as Floor Light (use with glass floor rugs)

Tapestry as Wall Art

The Light (Outdoor Light)

Happy New Year, and enjoy!

Download zips (package files): Mediafire | SimFileShare

Descriptions & pics under the cut:

Most of this stuff's pretty clear-cut, but I wanted to just explain a few quick things.

The Alfheim Light Crystals, Bifrost, Idunn Apple, and The Light all have Fullbright, so they always glow, even if you turn the lights off. (The Idunn Apple mesh is a wee too big for my liking, but oh well.)

Coin Piles 3 | 4 (§10,000, ANI Moneybag Script REQUIRED) (found in Hobbies/Skills)

Shoutout to @thecardinalsims at MTS for helping me with these! 👍

Fully recolorable, these 2 coin piles cost 1 simoleon, but when your sims scoop them up, they get 10k! You're welcome! 🤑💰

Elven "Family" Lock as Decor (Animated)

Fully recolorable. This was cloned from a clock, so the pieces turn as the big/little hands turn on EA's clocks. I've never actually caught it at the right time when all the pieces properly align, esp. since I use the Time Mod like crazy and never really know what time it is in-game.

Giant/Not So Giant Leaves

Fully recolorable, found under Plants. These leaves are HUGE, which is why I added a smaller version, cuz jfc. 😅

Jotnar Shrines as Wardrobe (10k Polys) (SN EP REQUIRED)

I apologize in advance for these. I don't really intend for them to be used as EA dressers--I just wanted something with open/closed door animations (so alas, I also had to squeeze the mesh down to fit EA's dimensions). But by god these are dumb AF if your sim actually tries to rifle around inside for clothes (which I ofc removed)--

--or Aesir forbid, they actually enter it to hide/portal travel to Narnia/woohoo. 😬 There is NOTHING on the other side, so your sim WILL be seen floating like a doofus behind the mesh (through the walls).

Anyways, if you pause your game during the .5 seconds that the doors are ever open, you'll be graced with all the effing hard work I went through to add as many Jotnar panel variations as possible:

In order: Bergelmir, Hrungnir, Jormungandr, Skadi, Skoll & Hati, Starkadr, Surtr, Thrym, Tyr1, Tyr2, Ymir (sorry, no Groa U_U).

Lemnos Juice/Wine as Drinkable Beverage (ARSIL MOD REQUIRED)

The juice is regular kid-friendly juice, but the wine is strong alcohol only for adults (*cough* Kratos wtf were you thinking giving your kid 1000yr old alcohol to drink, someone call CPS on this fool! *cough*). So now your Spartan sims of all ages can safely & responsibly enjoy sippin on gin & juice~! 🥂 As always, the mesh clipping into their faces is out of control, but oh well.

Lyre as Guitar

Fully recolorable variation included. NOT a fan of where the fingers sit (esp. for kids), but OH WELL.

Nornir Chest as Land Chest (IP EP REQUIRED) (found in Debug)

Fully recolorable variation included. For some strange reason, I couldn't clone the WA EP chests (which I prefer), but thank goodness IP has a land chest I could use instead. (IIRC you can set it with all kinds of treasures with testingcheatsenabled true and/or Nraas' DebugEnabler or something, IDER.)

Rock Face as Wall Climbing (found in Hobbies/Skills)

This is based on the rock climbing station at the EA Store, but you DON'T need it for this one to work!

Comes in different fully recolorable variations, with/without Faye's "Yellow Paint" guiding the way.

Scroll Case as 2-Storey Bookcase (20k Polys)

Fully recolorable variation included. Yes. I know. The polys are insane. I decimated as many as I could, but AAA games are just so effing high poly. U_U

And that's that!

Happy New Year, and enjoy!

Download zips (package files): Mediafire | SimFileShare

#sims 3 cc #sims 3 conversion #sims 3 god of war 4 #sims 3 medieval #sims 3 mods #sims 3 storage #sims 3 lighting #sims 3 foodstuffs #sims 3 plants #sims 3 wall art #sims 3 electronics #sims 3 toys #sims 3 supernatural #sims 3 island paradise

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badgalsasuke · 8 months ago

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Hi,I have one question, many fans say that Sasuke liked Sakura since childhood, and give examples that he blushed in childhood,he blushed in front of her only twice, during the acquaintance and the bell exam when she bugged him, but he literally called her annoying on the same day,it turns out she annoyed him and did you like it at the same time? I realized these moments that he was still an innocent boy and all this confused him,because he blushed later in front of Kakashi and Naruto , but after the land of Waves he became more collected and rarely blushed

Hey anon!

Your ask is a bit over the place but I'll try to answer the best of what I could understand lol

The first instance you mention of Sasuke blushing is while Sakura introduces herself to the team.

Another SNS blog has already pointed this out but I don't remember which one exactly otherwise I'd just link their post so I'll explain it again. What Kishimoto did here is very interesting; when Sakura is talking about her big crush on Sasuke we don't see Sasuke at all, it's only after Sakura says she doesn't like Naruto and Naruto makes one of his stupid faces we get to see Sasuke blushing.

You gotta remember every manga panel exists in context and you have to take into account what comes before and after. So let's jump to ch. 27 on Naruto & Sasuke's battle against Haku.

These are Sasuke's most precious memories that make his body move on its own to protect Naruto, pretty romantic stuff. I've circled three specific moments here.

The one in the middle is from ch. 3, if you recall Naruto had transformed into Sasuke so he could ask Sakura what she thought of him whereas the real Sasuke was tied in a room. But then Naruto got diarrhea, ran to the bathroom and in the meantime Sasuke managed to liberate himself, tell Sakura she's annoying after she made fun of Naruto and then went on to look for Naruto.

When Sasuke eventually found him, Naruto once again made one of his stupid faces. Sasuke is fond of this moment.

The circle on the right is from ch. 10 after Sasuke saves Naruto from those evil ninja twins and decides to tease Naruto calling him scaredy cat (this translation says big chicken but same thing). How does Naruto respond? by making yet again another of his stupid faces.

The final circle is from ch. 19 when Naruto and Sasuke are trying to learn how to manage their chakras. Naruto is trying to focus but Sasuke calls his name, distracting him and making him fall resoundingly lmao

How does Naruto react? you guessed, with another one of his stupid faces. This moment is another precious memory for Sasuke.

So, the first time we see Sasuke blushing is not because of Sakura talking about her feelings for him, it's because of Naruto's stupid faces that he's very fond of. Sasuke is consistently endeared by Naruto's clumsy behaviour throughout the manga, ofc he blushed when Naruto reacted so exaggeratedly after Sakura said she did not like him. Awww.

The second time you mention is Sasuke blushing after Sakura hugs him when he wakes her up after she fainted. SS shippers tend to omit manga panels that come before or after a "SS moment" to make their point, but here's how the whole interaction went

Sasuke tried to steal the bells from Kakashi but Kakashi instead buries him underground and then Sakura finds him. I've seen some people say that when Sakura finds sasuke, he's blushing out of embarrasment for being found in such humilliating position or that those are just scratches on his face. But anyway, once Sakura wakes up, she tackles Sasuke and hugs him tight, Sasuke tells her to back off, notice he never returns the hug or touches her. So it could be that those are the same scratches that Sasuke had when he was underground (they appear and dissappear across panels, Kishimoto isn't consistent) or it could be he was indeed blushing.

However, if Sasuke is indeed blushing, I do not consider this to be an indication that Sasuke has a hidden crush on Sakura. As we see right away, Sasuke goes back to being hostile towards Sakura when she's giving him the chance to do the mission of retrieving the bells together. If he was secretly in love with her, don't you think he would try to spend time with her to get close to her??? and she gives him the chance multiple times and every time he rejects her...

Let's take for example when they're training their chakras to climb some trees. Sakura is the first to achieve the goal, but Sasuke ignores her and she acknowledges this herself

Instead, Sasuke asks Naruto for tips on how to channel his chakra properly after he saw Naruto ask Sakura. Mind you, Sasuke could've asked Sakura himself, he's aware how much she loves him and how she's always dying to train with him, but instead he went straight to Naruto

SS shippers think this is another proof of Sasuke being secretly in love with Sakura because "he's blushing while asking about Sakura" LMFAO

Baby, Sasuke wants to train with Naruto and he's dumbfounded when Naruto *rejects him*. Also Naruto stupid faces after Sasuke asked him for tips on how to climb trees lmao (mind you, Naruto could not yet climb trees).

But the point here is that Sasuke wants to spend time with Naruto and we're constantly shown that.

Like when Naruto spent all night training by himself that Sasuke asks about him and then goes looking for him to check up on him.

That same day he spent the entire night training with Naruto and even let Naruto put his arms around him in the way he didn't let Sakura.

This moment from ch. 22 is also part of Sasuke's precious memories. AND THIS is how you behave when you have a crush on someone but want to act nonchalant about it. Ask in the most casual innocent way possible if you can hang out with them. Go check on them without telling people where you're going. Spend all night training together. Let them put their arms around you and act casually about it. Tease them to make them act clumsily because you're endeared by that.

Sasuke doesn’t act like this with Sakura because he doesn’t have a secret crush on her, he’s just being mean and rude to her.

What's even funnier is that in ch. 11 we see Sasuke blush for no reason other than he's walking right next to Naruto, this moment would too, become a precious memory for Sasuke. Right after this Naruto would go on to almost kill a rabbit and make even more stupid faces when he realizes his mistake.

Remember how in ch. 698 Sasuke says he's been looking at Naruto since they were little kids and the more he looked at him, the more Naruto would weigh on his mind and how Sasuke would feel warm and fuzzy? Connect that to ch. 1 and Sasuke's first appearance in the manga: him looking at Naruto during class.

Sasuke has always had a crush on Naruto and Kishimoto wrote it that way from the very beginning because that's what he always intended. This is also for the sns shippers that wonder "when did Kishimoto decided to make Sasuke and Naruto's bond romantic/gay?"

So, yeah, Sasuke blushes kinda often when he's a genin but for different reasons. Make no mistake, Sasuke did care for Sakura for a time, he considered Sakura a comrade and he did care for her and Kakashi because they were his teammates. It's only after he wakes up from his coma caused by Itachi when he returns and beats up Sasuke, that Sasuke no longer cares about Sakura or the team 7 thing because he has to focus in his vengeance, he only keeps on caring about Naruto (against his will) because Naruto had already permeated into his heart, as Orochimaru would state

The whole "Sasuke was secretly in love with Sakura and the couple times he blushed in front of her proves it" is just grasping at straws and cherry picking panels. You know, ignoring the forest because you're focused on a couple trees.

As another blog stated once: Naruto isn't a story of Narusasu vs. Sasusaku. It's the love story between Naruto and Sasuke and Sakura also happens to be there.

EDIT: I just want to add that some SS shippers might mention that during the war arc Kakashi remembers the moment Team 7 members were introducing themselves and he remembers Sasuke blushing exactly when Sakura was talking about her feelings for him (basically the moment we don't see Sasuke because he's covered by dialogue circles). I discuss that argument here on why Kakashi is an unreliable source/narrator and you should not feel cornered by that SS argument.

#hope this answers your questions :)#narusasu #sasunaru #sasunarusasu #anti sasusaku #ask reply #sns meta

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svampira · 2 years ago

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*7th* attempt at posting a comic wip: SUCCESSFUL. He's a 10 but smokes bubblegum flavoured vapes in the car

is this a sign from god telling me not to post comic wips

#/wip #^tumblr not letting sabrina post art chronicles #FINALLY #now i can talk about it #anyways i really like the second and third page the 4th has fun panelling with the car going over the elias panel #but him turning around looks so bad idk #just the sketch ofc but idk if im going to do lineart. because i HATE doing lineart

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baronessvonglitter · 2 months ago

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Lunch in an Elevator: When Marcus Met Cat

(Part 2 of "The Assistant From Hell")

Marcus Moreno x OFC Cat Cruz | WC: 2.6K

Summary: the story of how Marcus met Cat

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! M for Mature. Language. Comedic violence. Squirrels. Accidental flashing. Mentions of stripping. Allusions to masturbation. Marcus is a really lonely widower. Hypnosis against one's will. Criminal record that could wrap around the earth. No Lucien this time, but another P-boi mentioned. Never beta’d because I live dangerously.

A/n: this is my submission for @toomanystoriessolittletime 47 minutes in heaven writing challenge ❤️and I chose Marcus because I had big plans on how to continue from Part 1, Vulgar Display of Power.

Speaking of, this part can be read as a standalone, but I say it's always more fun to read the whole thing, so if you give it a chance I'd be really happy 🥹👉🏼👈🏼

My fun fact for today: I have never broken a bone. (I gotta think of more lore lol)

Also, the title is kind of a play on the Aerosmith song “Love in an Elevator" 😅 (cricketsssssss)

Also also, for anyone questioning the squirrel warning, I give you this:

dividers by @toastray 👑

12:25 PM

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order.

HI OMG SO LATE A FUCKIGN SQUIREL ATTACK ME!

*ATTACKED

Marcus stared at his phone, blinking hard before he replied.

Are you ok?

BLOOD

BLEEDING

Without a second thought he was up and running out of the office, hurrying into the hallway and into the elevator. When it stopped at the ground floor a woman entered, limping, her calf bleeding. Marcus immediately rushed to help, assessing the damage. "A squirrel did this?" he asked, looking up at her.

"A fucking evil squirrel."

"Uh-huh." He pressed the button for the fourth floor where his office was, before getting the emergency first aid kit from a panel in the elevator. He was glad he'd insisted on safety first, even in a means of transport. With his line of work, you could always expect the unexpected.

"Wow.. thanks," she said, sitting on the floor with the injured leg bent up to her chest as Marcus cleaned the wound and applied ointment (after putting on the provided gloves of course), and affixed the bandage.

"It's no problem, miss," he said with a smile. And for the first time he really saw her.

She was young, but it was hard to decipher an exact age. Younger than himself, surely, but there was a kind of suspicion and world-weariness in her eyes that he typically didn't see in younger people. He couldm't deny she was pretty - dark hair and dark eyes, skin flushed from her traumatic run-in with a furry squirrel. In the air around her lingered a scent of cinnamon and vanilla. It made his mouth water.

"You can call me Cat. With a C." She stuck her hand out, her gaze upon him bold and unwavering.

"You're my dasher," he said, cautiously shaking her hand. His eyes flitted to the bag of chicken tikka masala still in her other hand, a greasy spot growing on the white paper bag.

"Guilty." She stood and so did he, but the elevator came to a sudden STOP and they both jolted towards each other.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she whispered at the same time that Marcus said, "Oh no, this isn't good."

Realizing he was holding her, he blushed and gently eased her away, not quite breaking full contact. He supposed she was scared, as anyone could be, of being stuck in an enclosed space. "Let me try the Open button. If we're between floors it should open and let us out."

He pressed it and nothing happened.

"It's okay. We'll just call for help." He pressed the emergency call button, but that was when the power went out.

"What the-- what happened to our generators?"

"That's weird," Cat muttered.

The emergency lights were on overhead, bathing the pair in a warm red glow. It made Cat giggle for some reason. Marcus kind of liked the sound of it.

"Unfortunately it looks like we're stuck here for the time being," he announced, taking off his glasses and reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a small foil packet.

"Is that.. a condom?" Cat said.

He showed her the small packet which had a picture of a pair of glasses with sparkling lens. "It's a lens cleaner. For my glasses."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed, and Marcus did a double take.

"So are you hiring?" She asked, sitting down again as Marcus stood, still assessing the situation and waiting to see if someone would come and help.

"Um, I think so. Actually, I am in need of an assistant."

"Assistant? Like in The Devil Wears Prada?"

"Not quite." Marcus chuckled. "Just a personal assistant to schedule my appointments and field phone calls, emails, the usual. Do you have any experience with that?"

"I do," she answered, and there was something in her smile that told Marcus the opposite.

He sat down across from her in the elevator. "We can do kind of an unofficial interview, if you like. It might help to pass the time."

"Yeah! Okay!" Excited, she uncrossed then crossed her legs, Basic Instinct style, seemingly forgetting (or not caring) that she was wearing a dress. Marcus pointedly looked away, forcing his eyes to stay on her face.

"Alright, Miss..?"

"Cruz. Cat Cruz."

"Cat, like Catherine?"

"More like Cat for Catastrophe. That was my aunt's nickname for me when I was growing up."

When Marcus chuckled she admitted to being a Catherine. (With a C.)

"That's pretty," he said.

"I know."

He cleared his throat. "So, Miss Cruz, tell me about your work history."

"Back to front or front to back?"

"Hm?"

"Most recent?"

"Yeah. Yes, please."

"I'm a Dasher, obviously. I also work part-time at Bubbles."

"And Bubbles is a.. car wash?"

"It's a strip club."

"Oh." His face grew red and he slid his glasses up his nose.

"And you can't discriminate against me because of that. I have rights," she said.

"Of- of course." Flustered, he jotted down her answers in a little notepad he typically carried in his shirt pocket. "Any other places of employment?"

"The Boom-Boom Room."

"Uh.. is that another..exotic.. uh, place?"

The smirk she gave him should have left him ice-cold, but somewhow it's warm, like sunshine after a blustery day.

"Bubbles is full nude. The Boom-Boom Room is topless only."

Marcus cleared his throat, trying to ignore the rush of blood to his dick. He had a very vivid imagination, and the way Cat spoke so freely about her.. other jobs only served to cement her as possible fantasy material for a lonely night.

"I know what you're thinking," she interrupted his thoughts.

No, I don't think you do. But he smiled politely as if he had no clue what she meant.

"You're wondering why I want this position. Well, I'll telll you. Sure, I'm just an average woman who works multiple jobs - some of which pay me to be a little bit naked the majority of the time - but I'm also just looking for something to keep me calm and orderly. A real and proper career. And I pass by this place every day. It looks like the perfect place for me."

Marcus couldn't help feeling sympathetic towards her plight. He himself was very fortunate in having his employment with the Heroics almost immediately after college. His whole life, you might say, was one careful selection after another.

Which was why he empathized with Cat. She had a nice kind of energy, like a slight buzzing in the air, and there was a kind of warmth emanating from her. Her scent grew stronger, warm and delicious.

"...so anyway, I'm not allowed back at that particular Applebee's. Or any of them really. Lifetime ban. As if anyone really needs that many dollaritas."

He'd missed her entire story because of his daydreaming. "Sorry.. I missed that." He put his pen to the paper again.

"Oh, uh.. I waitressed briefly at Applebee's."

"Oh." Marcus said that a little too brightly. "And can I get the restaurant manager's name?"

"Max.. uh, Phillips." She looked uneasy. "But hey, please don't contact him. We kind of dated and it ended badly. Like, scorched earth badly."

"Whoa.. what happened? If I may ask."

"You may not."

Another impasse. But Marcus found himself wanting to know more. Cat beat him to the next question.

"Married, huh?" She pointed to his ring.

He gazed at the band of gold on his ring finger, which had rested there for fifteen years. He'd never taken it off, not once, especially since Lily's death..

"I'm a widower," he said with a sigh, pursing his lips. He rarely met new people and so rarely had to explain his marital cirucmstances, or lack thereof.

"Oh. Bummer. Sorry." Cat looked uncomfortable, shifting to get more comfortable on the floor. "Y'know, I was married once too. For about five minutes."

"Really?" His interest was piqued. "It feels that way sometimes, doesn't it?"

The look she gave him would have killed him on the spot but in a moment's notice she changes back to her smiling self. "I don't want to talk about it."

"How long has it been?" Cat broke the silence and Marcus was grateful for it, thinking he'd hurt her feelings by his previous question about her marriage. After letting up on the topic, he'd let her stew in silence and now she seemed comfortable enough to talk.

He checked his watch. "About twenty minutes," he replied, sighing. "Who knows how long we'll be stuck in here."

She handed him his bag of lunch. "Might as well enjoy your extended lunch break."

With a small chuckle he accepted it and opened the styrofoam to-go box. "Care to join me?"

Cat's stomach had been growling and she nodded immediately, digging in to share his plate. "I mean.. it is the least you could do." And together they stuffed their faces.

"What do you think you can bring to this organization?" Marcus asked, continuing their interview as they finished eating. He washed it all down with a bottle of Smartwater, realizing she had no drink of her own.

"C'mon, we were really getting somewhere," she complained, reaching out for his drink, as if she naturally expected him to share. He hesitated before handing it over, holding his breath as he watched her umscrew the cap and put the mouth to her red lips, drinking from where his own lips had been.

He forgot the question he'd asked, swallowing hard as Cat drank after him, not minding at all sharing germs with a stranger.

"I'm naturally good with people," she said, starting to count on her fingers, which were painted a deep blood-red, the same as her lips. "I'm available every day, I'll come in on holidays because I'm not religious, people tend to do what I tell them, I know how to use a computer, I can speak multiple languages, I once beat Astaroth in an arm wrestling match, I'm comfortable with growth and change, and I aim to succeed."

She gave him a square look, the most serious she'd been in the entire time they'd been stuck in the elevator.

"You need an assistant, and I'm the best person for this job. You already know you're going to say yes, so why deny the words? They want to come out."

Marcus was transfixed, almost in a hypnotized state. He had so many questions: how many languages could she speak and which ones? Who's Astaroth and how could she beat someone if she didn't look that strong? Was she proficient in Google Workspace?

Her hand was on his wrist, a soft touch as she gently turned so his palm was facing up. Her eyes still on his, she smiled beautifully at him, and Marcus felt his heart miss a beat, and his mouth filled with saliva.

"You're going to offer me the job," she said, her voice clear and bright, as if giving instructions to a kindergardener, "and I'm going to accept. I'm going to start on Monday, and when you do a background check you'll find nothing out of the ordinary."

"Yes," he answered, almost docile in his reply. He looked at her as if he'd give her the moon straight out of the sky if she so much as commented on its luminescent beauty. His pulse felt slow, almost sticky, because even his bloodflow is moving with leisure, as if it didn't have a body with vital organs to support. Cat's eyes on him were a beckoning gaze, as if she was searching his mind, but in that somehow intimate moment he couldn't have cared less.

He considered staying in that stuck elevator with her for the rest of his life.

And just like that the lights turned back on, the devilish red glow replaced by the usual LED glare. Cat's hand was no longer on his wrist, though he felt the ghost of her touch even as she stood apart from him, looking around as the elevator started to move.

The car came to a smooth stop on the ground floor and Cat beamed at Marcus, extending her hand again. Marcus took it eagerly, expecting to feel that warm surge again, but this time it was just a regular handshake.

"Thank you so much for the job offer, Mr. Moreno. I happily accept, and I'll be back on Monday ready to work!"

"Yeah.. yeah, see you Monday." He walked out to see her to the door. "Have a good day." Then he stopped her, his hand on her shoulder. "Wait.. your leg.. how is it?"

She peeled the bandage off to reveal skin that had never seen the teeth or claws of a vicious squirrel before. Her skin was smooth and unblemished and Marcus had to fight himself to keep from running his fingertips along the tempting patch of skin.

"Good as new, baby," she said, laughing, and Marcus laughed with her.

On his way up to his office he checked his watch. 12:25. But earlier it had read 1:12. He was stuck in that elevator with Cat for forty-seven minutes..

Wasn't he? He shook his head and tapped his watch, reminding himself to check the battery.

He's thinking about that day now, alone in his office, the door open so that Cat's empty desk is in plain view. Her screensaver is a still of the chest-burster scene from Alien one of his (and her, he guesses) favorite films. Her seat is askew as if she'd just left it. It's so quiet without her here. He can hear the typing and clicking of the other staff in their offices, but he doesn't hear Cat's music playing too loudly over her PC, and he doesn't hear her giggling as she takes a personal call, the conversations always giving away a modicum of privacy that he doesn't need to hear. She's not here to get up a dozen times in half an hour, hips swaying in those short skirts and dresses that HR should warn her about but never do.

The scent of her perfume lingers, vanilla and cinnamon. Cat told him the name long ago but he's forgotten it. He could buy a bottle and spray it on his sheets at home. He could pretend she spends just as much time in his bedroom as she does in this office.

He shakes his head at the randomly intrusive thought.

He feels awful about telling her to take leave until Friday (which can't get here soon enough). When he does call her cell it goes straight to voicemail. He leaves a quick message, some drabbling words about hoping she's alright, gives her some office gossip (of which there is little) and tells her he can't wait to see her.

He's looking at her now.

Spread out on his desk are mugshots of Catherine Elizabeth Cruz, aged thirty-five, born in Los Angeles. She's gone by several different aliases but the face is always the same - the red lips, eyeliner, sometimes with glasses and often without. Dark hair at varying lengths. He's arranged it from most recent to earliest, watching Cat age backwards. There's even an early mugshot, dated from when she was twelve. Just a kid, with blunt-cut bangs, a chicken pox scar on her cheekbone, and a mouthful of braces, as if she's smiling for a school picture. The file attached says she was picked up for shoplifting.

Marcus isn't sure what to do with all this information. He doesn't know how any of this got past HR in her hiring process. Cat shouldn't be allowed anywhere near the premises, not with her rap sheet.

It's a good thing nobody knows about this but him. All it took was a little digging, greasing a few hands and leveraging his position for a few discreet favors.

He needs answers from her, but he's afraid she may not give all the truths he's seeking. She owes him.

Once again, it's good nobody knows but him.

He takes the photos and the documents and he shreds them, one by one.

Before he leaves for the day he takes the shreddings out himself, to put in his own bin at home. As he's looking for an extra trash bag he checks his desk drawer on the left.

It's still there, the coffee cup lid from Monday morning, with her crimson lip print emblazoned upon the white. That's one thing of Cat's that he won't toss in the garbage.

A/n cont’d we’ll just say that Marcus didn’t remember being hypnotized, but he doesn’t know how a criminal got past the hiring process 🤷🏻‍♀️

npt y'all who liked my wip and/or part 1❤️: @itwasntimethatdidit40

@burntheedges @sunshinehaze1 @joelalorian @604to647

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@puddles221b @bunniboo0015

@samsmith1415 @tateypots @oliveksmoked @harriedandharassed

@foreveratlantica-blog @thedilfdiaries @rav3n-pascal22

@lunpycatavenue @jensensational71 @for-a-longlongtime

@bigbutchenergee @80ssong @eli1134 @rikutsubasa13

@megangovier @queenofdisssaster @danilg21 @taylorisapunk

#pedro pascal #marcus moreno #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno x ofc #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom #ppcu fics #ppcu #pedro pascal cinematic universe #we can be heroes #ofc!cat cruz #the assistant from hell

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mehwmidklpe · 3 months ago

Note

YKNOW WHAT I NEED mortal reader having visions of percy in his past adventures and they start to paint those visions to make sure their not going insaine (they are) and percy sees of the painting of him in Tatartes fighting

Ofc if you don't what to do it you don't having to AND TAKE YOUR TIME!

of course I'll do that

You felt like you've been going crazy.

Visions.

They've been haunting you for weeks. You can't get rid of them.

Every single one of them had something to do with Greek mythology.

Every single one of them had something to do with Percy Jackson.

You couldn't lose them, so you started painting them.

To make sure you weren't going crazy, that what you saw actually made sense.

Only it didn't.

Your best friend flying on a horse didn't make sense.

A lady with an arrow who turned inot animals didn't make sense.

A man with talking snakes didn't make sense.

Another man with a lot of tools on an island with Percy could've made sense, but it just didn't.

You couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think. Those visions came whenever you least expected them.

You were lucky enough to say you never had gotten one infront of Percy.

Oh!

Of course you talked too soon!

Percy was ranting about something as he sat on your bed, a smile on his face.

The smile was really cute, he must've been very passionate about what he was talkkng about.

Such a shame you didn't hear any of it.

You felt this feeling in your stomach, a feeling you've unfortunately grown very familliar with the past few months.

No.

Nah-ah.

Not now.

Not right now.

Not infront of Percy.

Never mind, here you go!

'Percy stop!'

He didn't stop.

"Y/n?" Percy asks with a frown, confused and a bit worried at your behavior.

You could barely hear him as you stood up and walked away.

With a frown, Percy rushed after you. "Y/n? Hey, what's wrong?"

He watched as you walked into a room full of paintings and quickly grabbed an oil palette before finding an empty canvas panel.

Without saying a word, you quickly started painting as if you were in a rush.

You were stressed out, Percy could tell.

"Y/n what's going on??" Percy demanded.

Percy didn't stop.

He wanted to choke this goddess.

Choke her with her own poison.

Percy had never seen someone paint as fast as you, but you looked like you were going crazy.

His sea colored eyes twitched as he saw what you were painting.

That was him.

In tartarus.

Percy looked around the room to take a look at all the paintings.

Suddenly he felt dizzy.

It was as he was looking at a gallery based on his entire life.

His heart was beating fast, a beep echoing trough his ears. And though it all, you were still painting.

"Y/n!"

He snatched your arm, forcing you to stop painting.

That was thd moment you finally snapped out of it and looked at him.

Your gaze flickered all over his face, as if trying to stop seeing that hideous, angry version of himself you saw in your head just seconds ago.

Instead you wanted to boy you fell in love with back.

The boy swallowed. "What is all this?? How do you–Why–??"

"I don't know." Your voice trembled.

"I keep getting these vision. Visions about you and these Greek gods and monsters and wars. I'm trying to understand."

"That's why you've been studying Greek mythology so much lately.." Percy realized.

You nod. "I don't know what's happening to me Percy.. and I don't know why you're in all these visions and what the heck they mean cause what the–"

"They're real! I'm a demigod, thise visons are things that happend to me trough the years, my dad is Poseidon, you're a seer." He blurted out.

You paused. "What?"

"Remember Rachel?" Percy asks. "Yeah, of course, we were friends until she loved to another schoool." You recalled.

Percy nodded. "She's like you. Only she's the Oracle now."

You frowned. "What?"

"Y/n, listen. What I'm gonna say may sound crazy, but we're friends so I need you to believe me." Your friend spoke to you.

He took a deep breath and then snapped. "Greek mythology is real, I'm a part of it, lt dad is a god, Poseidon, I'm half god, I've been going to a camp for halfbloods for years now, I've been in wars, saved the world a couple of times, made enemies, lost friends, the casual Greek stuff."

You blinked.

Blinked again.

"What?"

"Remember last year. You said you were pivking up my birthday gift, next thing you knew everythung went black and before you knew it you were laying in my bed?" Percy reminded you.

"What does that have to do with anything?" You asked him.

"You fell asleep because of a curse, meanwhile the war against Kronos and his army happened, I played a big part of it..." He sighed deeply before continuing.

"but when I saw you laying there.. with that amazing gift in your arms.. holding it so tightly as if you couldn't let go without knwoing I got it for my birthday. I had to get you to safety."

You just stared at him. "That doesn't make sense. There never was a war in Manhattan."

Percy scoffed at that. "Of course it doesn't make sense, Y/n. None of this does." He shook his head.

"But you know how you kept complaing about how you kept seeing weird things, but people always told you you were crazy?"

"Percy–" "It's because you can see what I see. The mist can't trick you." He went on.

You didn't even know whst to day. This all just was way too much.

"I'm a demigod, you're a seer."

You shook your head. "No. No. That can't be, I'm just–I'm going crazy, there's something wrong with my brain, I know that. There's something seriously broken. But the Greek mythology, I'm not a part of that, Percy, I can't–"

Percy grabbed your cheeks and pulled you into a kiss.

That waw the last thing you had expected.

But it was also the only good thing that has happened in the last few stressful months.

And you actuallyet yourself have it this time.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged.

"I know this sounds crazy, Y/n." He assured you.

Then his hand came up to tuck a strand of your soft hair behind your cheek.

"But it's true. And I know that this feels selfish, but it feels so good to know that you light just understand. That you can see what i see. You know how great that feels?"

You nodded, a single tear falling down your cheek. "Honestly I thought I was actually crzay. The only one who saw it."

Percy shook his head. "You have me. And I have friends you'd love to meet who can see just the way you do." He assured you.

You smiled at that. "That sounds nice." "Knowing that you're not alone? It does, doesn't it?" He smiled back.

You held onto him tighter. "Are you okayn" you know what has happened to him. You knew better than anyone.

You have seen what happened.

You have felt what happened.

You felt the same pain he felt.

"Yeah. I'm okay now. Just.. now you know.. you're gonna gave to face a lot of trouble " Your friend who was now not-much-just-a-friend antmore warned you.

You shrugged. "I was getting bored anyways." You blinked away your tears.

"Great, but don't get yourself killed."

"You're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

"Wouldn't want it any other way."

His respond made you smile again.

Percy's thumb wiped away your fallen tear. "I'll do anythung to keeo you out of any harm." He promised.

"Worry about yourself first, Percy. You deserve it." You tell him.

You paused. "That and rest." You added.

And so he let himself finally rest for once.

In your arms.