bentleyfoxwelljr

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

I owe a starter and some replies. I've not forgotten, I'll get to them shortly!

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

Friendly reminder that if you want to roleplay with me all you have to do is aggressively throw me a starter.

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

Foxwell didn't notice her laughter, but wouldn't have been offended. "A piano," he mused quietly when he saw it. Perhaps that was a means by which he could earn himself some familiarity among her family. At the moment, doing a servant's work was daunting. He was a confident person, but this was a lifestyle to which he was perfectly unaccustomed. "Stay off the couch. Noted." The fireplace received an approving nod. It was something he couldn't have in his penthouse apartment, but the mountain cabin had one. It was his favorite thing about the place --coming in from the snow and sprawling in front of the fire with his friends and some hard drinks and blow. Very cozy. He could only hope he'd have access to the billiards frequently --it was a fun hobby, even if he wasn't particularly good. Somewhere along the tour, he resolved not to let them know about his former wealth. This was an opportunity to be someone else entirely --a regular blue collar type. Surely this would make him endearing somehow? They crossed an ornate terrace, and the pool was given a wide berth as it had at his apartment. Though he'd planned on acting surprised when he saw the staff house, his slacked jaw was sincere as he stepped foot inside. "What...? This is bigger than my apartment was." At least that didn't give him away --the apartments someone like a driver would have afforded in the city would have been minuscule. "And I get... the whole place?" That wasn't acting. This gig wasn't going to be so rough, after all, he decided. She asked what he thought while he was slowly lowering his suitcases, eyes roaming the inside of the pool house. "This is... wow."

Driving Miss Violet || Foxwell and Violet

Violet couldn’t help but give a small laugh, but possibly he didn’t hear it since it was so tiny. Everyone thought her house was huge and yet to her it was just home—the only one she’d known. It was just a house. “So, this is the living room,” smiled softly, walking past the room that no one really used. “The piano’s in there, and a couch that mom won’t let anyone sit on, so we don’ really go in there much. It’s just the place to put our Christmas tree come the holidays.” 

"And over here is the den, I guess." She walked into the great room with the large TV and sofa, a few armchairs and the fireplace. "This is where we do spend a lot of time, I guess, when we’re home."

She proceeded to show him the kitchen, dining room, and then told him about the billiard room upstairs, and the library. Then pushing open the back French doors from the breezeway, revealing the pool, she gestured for him to follow to the pool house that served as a staff house for now. “You’re the only one who’s ever lived with us before,” she said, opening the door. “So, you basically have free range in here. There’s a kitchen, two bedrooms and two bathrooms. So I guess you have a choice of which one you want. They’re the same size and everything, I guess it just depends on if you want a view of the driveway or the pool from your bedroom window.” 

Stepping back so he could take it all in, Violet bit down on her lower lip. “So——what do you think?”

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

The glass was snatched off the table as she pushed it toward him, lofted toward his mouth while she nonchalantly told him what she wanted from him. Finishing off the whiskey, he set the glass on the counter and looked her in the eye, fueled by grain mash courage. "Then you will." He'd just promised himself to stay away --to turn her down if he had to for her own well being, but he had the same addiction to following impulses as a gambler has to 'one more game.' She slowly came around the counter, feeding his anxious longing which might otherwise have been under control. But if, after the slightest flirtation on her part, he'd been incapable of stopping himself leaning down to grab his father's secretary by the ass, if he'd been unable to avoid getting drunk at the company dinner, if he'd been to incompetent not to use an inhalant before he ever even arrived, how was he going to control himself in front of a woman who'd just informed him she yearned to strip his shirt off him? He leaned off the counter, closing the already diminutive distance she put between them. His hands lifted --not without hesitation, toward her elbows, fingers carefully bending across her skin if she didn't pull away from him. The waters were tested, and if he wasn't met with resistance, he started to push her back toward the counter and his lips to hers.

Welcome to the Slums// Braeden & Bentley

Braeden looks down at the glass, swirling it around before setting it back on the table. “I’m sure. I have to look out for my sister, she’s my first priority, but I also want you to touch me and-” Braeden laughs, trailing off from her sentence. “I mean it, I want to see your bed for longer than thirty seconds, and feel your sheets, and your hands, and everything else.” Braeden tells him honestly, pushing the glass towards Bentley and closing her eyes, attempting to stop herself from saying too much. 

The girl takes a deep breath, looking up to see Bentley’s flushed skin. She smiles softly and shifts on her seat. She really needed something that would take off the edge but not make her sloppy. She sighs, thinking back to the guy in the parking lot. The air around them suddenly thicker from all the sexual tension was taking it’s toll on Braeden, her flight reflexes urging her to get out, but she didn’t- she couldn’t. Her eyes were locked with his. Braeden could hear her heart beating, taking in deep breaths to steady herself.

Braeden was afraid to touch him, she could feel the hunger for him boiling beneath her skin. She stood from her seat, walking slower than normal to the other side of the counter. She stood in front of him, a safe distance away, only planning on saying more, but she could have sworn she could feel the nervous waves of warmth rolling off him. Braeden presses her hands into the counter behind her. “Jesus Bentley, I’m trying so hard not to rip your shirt off right now.” She huffs rolling her tongue over her lips.

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

friendly reminder that even if i take ages to reply, i still want to roleplay with you

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

To all my new followers;

Send me something if you want to RP

↓ For me to make a starter for you

► If you want to make a starter and want to give me a heads up

↨ If you want to plot first

( /.\ ) if you’re too shy to talk to me

(・ー・)  if you want to admire for now but promise to RP someday

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

He still thought her words might spill freely thanks to her drink, but allowed himself relief to know she wasn't sorry she came here despite his forwardness. Not that being forward was a new behavior for him --it was just those with whom he associated were open to it. He was brought back to the present as she grazed his fingers, only to take his drink from him. He looked after it longingly; how else would he have confidence to carry on a conversation? She assured him he could do both, which made him smile despite growing confusion. She then admitted far more, and suddenly he felt the kitchen was too hot as well. There'd not been any insinuation until they arrived on the terrace that she had felt that way, but now it pulled and teased at him and made him run his hand up the back of his neck. "Out there... You said it couldn't happen again. Are you sure...?" She truly was a queen of mixed signals, but he hoped this broadcast was sincere. "Of course, that's what I ... I mean, I want that too," he rambled on, wishing he could just finish off his drink to find the words --or at least the lack of guilt. "But you have to mean it."

Welcome to the Slums// Braeden & Bentley

"I don’t regret it." She says watching as he downs another glass. Part of her worries that he’d only be able to be with her if he was using any type of substance. Braeden gives a sigh, messing with the fabric of her shirt. " I don’t regret anything, coming here, the kiss, nothing." She tells him without glancing at him. She really wants to laugh, explain to him how she could only imagine him pressing her against the bed and using her any way he wanted. But she doesn’t. She just looks up at him with the same lustful eyes.

Braeden didn’t want Bentley to feel like he owed her anything, including an apology. She put her hand on top his biting her lip and removed the glass from his hand. As selfish as she was the only thing she wanted was for Bentley to be sober when he confessed anything to her. She slid the glass out of his hand and moved it closer to her being.

She smiled when she said he didn’t regret their kiss. “You can help me- and kiss me.” She said without really thinking about her words. That’s really what her mind was on, Having Bentley run his hands across her body. Braeden brings her bottom lip between her teeth. “Because ever since I got here, all I could imagine is you pressing me against your mattress.” She chuckles without look at him. Braeden runs a nervous hand across her neck, looking up at him with dark eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do in a situation like this, all I know is that I’m not going to deny you.” She shrugs a shoulder, letting him interpret that any way he wanted.

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

When some one posts multiple ask memes it doesnt mean disregard all except for the one they most recently posted, it means I am setting up a fucking buffet and my ask box is your plate. So fill that plate up for fucks sake.

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

He glanced down at the wood floor, nodding slowly to acknowledge she didn't want any more apologies. She excused everything as something to do with fate, perhaps --things happened for a reason. He wasn't certain he believed it, but glanced up, smiling somewhat feebly at her. She too gave a shy look, but scolded him again about his excessive apologies. He felt after his behavior he owed them, but for future reference noted he should simply not do anything he would later feel the need to apologize for. "I don't," he was quick to correct her. "I don't regret it, but you might. Even if you don't right now." She'd pushed her glass aside, but he was still drinking. He might have been compulsive, and he might have struggled to control any meager urge that struck him, but he typically had control at least of his words. He was losing that, drink by drink. "I don't want you to think I'm just..." He trailed off, shifting his weight as his balance began to grow a mite less reliable. "...taking advantage of you, or using you. 'Cause I wanna help. But you just really make me wanna kiss you."

Welcome to the Slums// Braeden & Bentley

"Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault." She shakes her head with a grimace. It almost sounded like she was reassuring herself, the pain of her words hidden in her voice. She hated apologizes. It’s not like in any version of the world, things would be different. She couldn’t stand to believe that things would change if someone said sorry enough. The last thing she needed was a city boy feeling sorry for her. Braeden stares down at her glass, watching her fingers through the crystal. There’s a laugh that threatens to erupt but she pushes it down. There was nothing funny about her life, or this entire situation. "Everything happens for a reason right?" Braeden asks accompanied by a shrug.

There’s small clang when she sets her glass down. She was never one for alcohol, or too much of it, but she didn’t have control. By her fourth glass Braeden wasn’t quite capable of telling Bentley’s motive. She couldn’t in the first place but now, she figured he had drawn back, had decided she wasn’t worth it any more. She frowns and pushes her glass away. She runs her eyes along his frame once more. settling for giving him a almost shy smile, glancing away when their eyes meet. 

Braeden laughed when he trailed off, her eyes meeting his again. “Seriously, don’t apologize.” She tells him liquid courage coursing though her. “Unless you regret it.” She says raising a brow. “Because if you regret it, and don’t want it to happen ever, again, you just need to tell me and I’ll stop.” But she’d stop what? Braeden didn’t think she was doing anything wrong, gauging by the lump in his throat earlier she had gotten the reaction she wanted. She smiles at him, lifting the corner of her mouth, when he tells her he had self control. It didn’t bother her, she had wanted that kis as much as he had. “I kissed you back remember, maybe we both could of had a little more control.” Braeden had pushed her glass away before it got too bad, though her brain was spinning, it wasn’t from the drink, and maybe it was just a little hot in the kitchen, but she was sure it was because of her proximity to a man she couldn’t touch, not right now. 

"Water, you have water?" She questions him in  an almost teasing manner. Braeden closed her eyes for a brief second and took deep breath running her fingers through her hair. She could get through this, as much as she craved to feel his hands on her skin, she couldn’t not with Bradley in the same room.

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

"Thanks," Foxwell said, inflection a mite unprofessional. He leaned back down and hoisted up his second bag again, stepping in when she opened the door. He glanced around, whistling under his breath. He'd seen his share of luxury, and had been to impressive places, but he couldn't quite wrap his head around this lifestyle. Where he previously lived, the same amount of money was shelled out for so much less space. "Violet," he repeated, looking the wrong way several seconds before he glanced to her and saw her outstretched hand. Fumbling, he set down a suitcase and grasped her hand, shaking firmly. "That's right, they did." He didn't want to tell her that was why he was so adamant about this job. Not only would he make money --he wouldn't have to spend it on finding a place to stay. He grabbed up the suitcase again and followed her, eyes still roaming exploratively as they walked from the foyer. "Oh, that's fine," he assured her in regards to having her as a tour guide. He decided not to tell her he preferred it to a group for fear of coming off crude right off the bat. "Yeah! Can't believe the size of this place..."

Driving Miss Violet || Foxwell and Violet

At your service. Maybe he didn’t know that things were totally casual around here. Well, of course he didn’t, because he’d just gotten there. “Well come in,” she smiled, opening the door for him to enter. “Um, I’m Violet,” she gave him a wide smile, reaching out her hand for him to shake. “Welcome, I guess. And mom and dad told me you’re going to be living in the staff house, is that right? I should probably show you around a little bit.”

Walking a few steps deeper into the house, she glanced to him. “Mom and dad are at some function for something or other, I don’t know exactly what it is, but anyway, I’m your tour guide for the afternoon,” she let out a small chuckle. “Ready to see the house?” 

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

The door swung open, and just as surprised as she was Foxwell. His brows lofted as she stood glancing past him as if expecting someone else --but it wasn't her behavior that struck him. In the case of his family, the driver did have relatively young employers, but wasn't it in most cases older folk who hired them? When he was applying for and accepting this job offer, he'd imagined a pair of folk older than her parents who'd merely need rides to run errands and go to their appointments. A young, stunning girl who sounded wary, or perhaps suspicious, was the last type of person he predicted would be behind the door. He wanted to tell her immediately that they were the same, that he was young and wealthy too and not just some lowly driver, but that was no way to introduce himself. Nor was it any longer the truth. He'd briefly cringed at his first name, but flashed a smile afterward. "At your service."

Driving Miss Violet || Foxwell and Violet

Watching Angelo leave was hard for Violet, but as her parents said, he was having heart troubles. And so, she’d said goodbye to the man who’d been driving them around all her life. 

Her parents were out and she was left to attend to the new driver for the afternoon, showing him around, showing him the ropes, and then he’d drive her to the few errands she had to run that evening. As the doorbell sounded, she pushed herself up from the couch before pulling the large door open. 

Surprised to see such a young man on the other side, considering Angelo had been ancient even when she was a child, the brunette couldn’t help but look around for someone else, an older someone. “Are you—Bentley?” she asked somewhat skeptically. 

Her brows knitted together in her confusion, looking the man up and down. He certainly was young, and attractive at that, there was no denying it. But still… the idea of having a kid no older than herself driving the family around almost didn’t sit right with her. 

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

I DARE YOU TO ANONYMOUSLY GIVE ME A NICKNAME

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

‘✉’ for an unsent letter from my character to yours.

‘♥’ and a name, and I’ll kiss them.

‘♡’ and my character(s) will cuddle yours!

a word and I’ll write a headcanon based on it.

‘♪’ and I’ll put my playlist on shuffle to tell you our song.

‘Ω’ and I’ll tell you what my character(s) thinks of yours.

a ship you have for my character(s) and I’ll tell you what I think.

age and a question and my character(s) will answer as that age.

unwanted (or bad) advice for my character(s).

ask my characters for advice.

bad (but hilarious) pick-up lines!

prompts or drabble ideas!

Questions!

‘Crush?’ for any romantic interest my character(s) might have for someone.

‘Confess?’ and my character(s) will have to confess something to yours. (whether it be feelings, opinions, a secret — whatever; feel free to specify)

‘Fetish?’ for one thing that is sexually appealing to my character(s).

☹ for a turn-off

a headcanon you have for my character(s) — I will accept/reject.

“[name]…has passed away” for my character’(s’) reaction.

★ for an IC fact, or ☆ for an OOC fact

Give my character a difficult decision

‘Would you rather…’

♛ and I’ll summarize our muses’ relationship with a gif.

✖ and I will give you a fear that my character has in dealing with yours

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

cor·rup·tion (noun) \kə-ˈrəp-shən\

The action of making someone or something morally depraved or the state of being so.

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

collections that are raw as fuck ➝ ezra s/s 2014

[bentleyfoxwelljr]

Driving Miss Violet || Foxwell and Violet

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Perhaps it was one too many lines, one too many drinks, one too many skipped tests, but his parents finally came together and made a decision to cut the umbilical cord. He'd stepped foot into an office of piled boxes full of his things --or what was left of them. Anything practical was returned to the storage rooms he'd pilfered it from, and the rest was action figures and strange baubles keeping his apartment from becoming cluttered. And the apartment --up on top of the world, in the clouds, with the terrace and pool and view of the city --for rent. Of everything he'd had, he missed the university the least. Although when his parents suddenly opted to no longer assist him they'd suggested he take out a loan and finish school, he dropped it without a hint of resentment. Finding a job in the real world proved difficult, but finally, after a few months of crashing at his friend's houses (and none too soon --all of them were ready to be rid of him) he'd secured a job. He'd had his own driver, once. He took the man's service for granted --it was easy, right? Of course he never had his own car. He drove his father's Benz around when he felt the need to drive himself. The others in the family collection were off limits to him due to his irresponsibility. He scrounged cash and hailed a taxi cab, buffeting the driver with his story. "And now," he was concluding as they pulled up ahead of the impressive domicile where he was now employed, "I'm a driver, just like you." He turned his head after speaking, grin slowly easing from his features as he stared out the open window at the enormous place. "Well... maybe not just like you..." The disinterested cabbie drove off once Foxwell had his two suitcases in either hand, leaving him to approach the door wide-eyed.