#im pretty sure you're french

[maddy-ferguson]

#me

[iamfuckingsorry]

what are you sorry for

I was very sorry for just about everything back when I made this blog in like 2013

[heeseungsbm]

thinking about fuck buddy jake... (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

₊˚⊹ pairing❥: jake x female reader

jake's sex drive is extremely high. he can't remember the last time he was able to go a week without it, he's always horny so he's grateful to have you to accompany his needs when he calls. he loves a good quickie and doesn't really care where you do it. fucking you when and where you're not supposed to gives him a pleasurable adrenaline rush, and he's really good at not getting the two of you caught. ♡

you've fucked in numerous peculiar locations; the couch at his grandparent's house, a victoria's secret fitting room, a playground late at night, his little brother's closet— listen... being squished on his lap for an hour during hide and seek wasn't going to end any other way. you surprisingly haven't done anything in a movie theater yet, but he absolutely plans on it.

jake's favorite place to fuck you is definitely in his car where you can get loud as ever. he loves taking you to the back, bending you over and pounding your pussy until the seats get sticky with sweat and cum, the windows get so fogged up from both of your hot heavy breathing combined.

fuck buddy jake will always give you head before fucking you. he has the most plump, voluminous lips that make you feel better than any toy can. he'd whisper against your cunt that aches for him, spitting on it and smearing the saliva around with his digits to prepare you for his tongue+fingering combo. the way you look down at him with so much adoration when he's in between your legs makes him crazy hard, and it feels so good to give his cock slow strokes as he french kisses your pussy. he keeps a certain length to his hair solely because he loves how you run your fingers through it while he makes soft suctions on your sensitive clit, how you grip it hard to grind against his soft lips before cumming in his mouth.

you never cared for australian accents until you met your fuck buddy jake. the way he speaks is just saurrr sexy, his tone is soft and sweet with you and it makes a complete pool in your panties. you easily do anything he asks. he thinks it's so cute how embarrassingly wet you get from his voice alone, so he makes sure to talk you through your orgasms as much as he can when you fuck. most of all, jake loves to call you his good girl, it's his favorite line of praise. "you look so pretty taking my dick. you wanna be a good girl and cum for me?" he'd talk your head off during missionary, showering you in filthy compliments.

fuck buddy jake likes to text you consistently. sending good morning & goodnight texts just feels right to him, and he always insists you text that you made it home safely after you leave his place. he's the first person you send selfies to before you post them on social media, and of course he gets the exclusives, if you're picking up what im putting down. you two exchange nudes and sext back and forth during late horny hours, he desperately fucks his fist in his bed to the nasty messages that pop up on his screen. he likes to send you videos of him stroking his dick and cumming all over his abdomen with his face in the frame, you save and touch yourself to them when he's not able to come over ❤︎₊ ⊹

fuck buddy jake loves to mark your body, even though you're not officially his. he'd hungrily bite and suck on the sweet spots of your flesh, creating dark bruises in places only he gets to see. not your neck since its too obvious, but your tummy, in between your thighs, and his favorite place— your tits. he hates when you wear tops that expose your chest and will pull up your top when nobody is looking, because all his hickies reside there, which are only for his eyes only.

fuck buddy jake is a whiney moaner, he just cannot help himself with the way your warm walls grip and tighten around his cock. he gets really high pitched and breathless, really loud when he's about to cum. "shit, oh fuck you feel so good. im gonna cum inside you," he'd moan pathetically, throwing his head back as unbearable bursts of pleasure pulse through his body. the groans he makes during sex are probably your favorite part of the entire thing, they're needy and dramatic. when giving him blowjobs you purposely continue to suck and tease his tip after he cums, just to hear him whimper and beg you to stop because he sounds so cute >؂•̀

jake tries his best to last for you, but sometimes he physically can't. you love how easily he leaks his seed though, it's kinda hot... especially because his load is always so excessive and messy. he'll use a condom depending on if you want to, but you almost never do, you love to fuck raw thanks to your handydandy bc pill. his pull out game is terrible... but to be fair, the warm sensation of his semen shooting up inside you feels too good to ever want something between the two of you.

fuck buddy jake cares alot about your pleasure. with his past bodies all he cared about was getting his own nut, but with you its different. when you first started messing around, he read books and took notes on female anatomy to make sure he knew exactly how to make you feel good, how to thrust, where to lick, where to grope, where to suck. you'd think he was a virgin after going through his search history; "how to make a girl cum from head" "how to make her squirt" "how do you find a girl's gspot?" he knows better than to learn from porn. he gets so carried away like a complete nerd, sitting and watching educational sex videos for hours at night with his dick hard, planning what he'll do to you the next day.

fuck buddy jake calls you his girl/girlfriend jokingly, but deep down inside there's meaning behind it. he's had the gushiest crush on you ever since the first day you met, and having secret sex nearly every day only deepened his infatuation for you and made him fall in love. however, he would never confess unless you hinted at it first. he has a great fear of rejection and would hate to make things "weird" between the two of you if you didn't want something more than just moaning each other's names behind closed doors.

all he can do is cross his fingers, hoping that one day his dick game will make you cum to your senses.

(yes, that was a pun pls LAUGH)

𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯!

🏷️ @emowonz cornered and bullied me to drop bye

reblog if you enjoyed <3 pretty please💕 i'll do heeseung's tmrw most likely. have a goodnight/day/evening babe

[propertyofwicked]

SMITTEN - LN

ln x reader, platonic!grid x reader SMAU

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open ✧

warnings: none, just a little swearing throughout - also she's a short one

masterlist the playlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

yourusername made a new post!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 21,223 others

yourusername 10 years ago today, i competed in my final karting race in order to pursue my dream career - and i would do it all over again, especially when i still get to spend my days with these losers

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, pierregasly

view all 5,421 comments

maxverstappen1 losers?? i think you mean losers and three time world champion, no?

⤷ yourusername they're not mutually exclusive

charles_leclerc proud of everything you've achieved mon amour

⤷ yourusername you’re just glad i left karting so that i stopped kicking your ass

⤷ charles_leclerc we raced in different categories?

⤷ yourusername the points dont lie leclerc

pierregasly i love you but did you have to chose this photo of me?

⤷ yourusername yes.

⤷ yourusername believe it or not, i have worse ones i couldve used

⤷ francisca.cgomes leak them

⤷ pierregasly bro??

⤷ yourusername cant believe youve just called your own girlfriend bro

yourusername made a new post!

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 21,223 others

yourusername thank you mclaren for having me today! trying to get the drivers to sit down and answer my questions may have shaved a few years from my life but i had fun regardless!

check out the video on youtube now!

view all 5,421 comments

mclaren thank you for babysitting! 🧡

⤷ yourusername id say anytime but the curly haired one kept asking "why" after every sentence :/

⤷ landonorris babysitting? nah, milf training comment has been deleted

⤷ landonorris ….why?

⤷ yourusername not sure what i did in a past life to deserve this

⤷ username3 yo anyone else see the deleted comment? someone pr train this man pleeeease

landonorris was lovely to see you! stop by anytime 🧡

⤷ username1 "lovely" 👀

username5 working hard or hardly working?

⤷ yourusername working flaccid.

oscarpiastri 🧡

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 12,358 others

yourusername taking a break from being your favourite journalist to become the ultimate stray cat whisperer

view all 2,381 comments

francisca.cgomes you look so gorgeous meu bem ❤️

⤷ yourusername i am nothing compared to you kiks ❤️

⤷ francisca.cgomes shush you

⤷ yourusername make me 😋😩

landonorris correct! you are my favourite journalist! and i am a stray cat!

⤷ yourusername be so fucking fr rn lando

⤷ username5 i refuse to believe this is real

⤷ oscarpiastri pretty sure i just heard him meow honestly

landonorris hi! im free june 24 if you want to hangout june 24 lmk im not doing anything june 24 please msg me if ur available june 24 so we could maybe hangout or do something june 24 !!

⤷ charles_leclerc lando please stop you're embarrassing youself

⤷ maxverstappen1 no charles, let him cook

⤷ charles_leclerc this is going to end badly

⤷ maxverstappen1 thats what im hoping for

⤷ yourusername you guys are being so mean

⤷ yourusername do it again 😈

username8 she's so beautiful i dont know if i wanna be her or with her

⤷ landonorris i know what im chosing

⤷ yourusername lando this is so unhinged pls move it to the dms

⤷ landonorris yes ma'am 🫡

⤷ yourusername ma'am??? im 2 years older than you not 20

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes , and 23,139 others

yourusername test drive

view all 6,581 comments

username3 test drive? THE CAR OR LANDO?

⤷ username12 that is not lando - surely???

charles_leclerc its june 24th.

⤷ pierregasly he's only gone and done it

⤷ charles_leclerc i fear i will never recover from this

⤷ yourusername french speaking men really are the most dramatic.

⤷ charles_leclerc i can be dramatic in spanish too if you need

⤷ carlossainz55 no gracias 😩

⤷ username3 this confirms it OH MY GOD

username7 what car do you drive?

⤷ yourusername my personal car is just a peugeot 208 but i rented a porsche for the week!

yourusername made a new post!

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 23,139 others

yourusername back to work, and back to mercedes for the first time in a while! keep your eyes peeled for some race week content coming your way!

tagged: lewishamilton, georgerussell63

view all 1,372 comments

georgerussell63 right well that's just cruel y/n. please violate lewis JUST ONCE

⤷ yourusername lewis didn't have a habit of running me off the track repeatedly

⤷ georgerussell63 that was ONCE. 14 YEARS AGO.

⤷ yourusername that's a strange way of apologising

⤷ username14 sometimes i forget she used to kart with like half of the grid

⤷ username14 like girly out here interviewing her childhood friends every week

mercedesamgf1 i feel like we need context for the last image, y/n

⤷ yourusername there are some things you will never know, admin

landonorris come back to mclaren tf?

⤷ yourusername soon 🤫

username4 lewis actually took part in social content? don't give me false hope i beg of u

⤷ yourusername not only did he take part, but he served cunt whilst doing so

⤷ lewishamilton i don't think i want to know what this means

⤷ yourusername probably for the best grandpa 💖

username15 sorry is everyone just ignoring lando being desperate in the comments?

⤷ yourusername if we ignore him, he'll go away

⤷ landonorris wrong. ill get worse! hope that helps x

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 42,601 others

yourusername cats out the bag

view all 2,671 comments

landonorris milf.

⤷ yourusername im not a mother??

⤷ landonorris *yet.

username3 wait how short is she? 'cos lando is not that tall i SWEAR

maxverstappen1 don't you mean...cougar?

⤷ yourusername you wanna talk to me about age gaps rn?

lilymhe that should be me holding ur hand

⤷ yourusername it still can be babygirl

⤷ lilymhe say less

⤷ alex_albon no please do say more - if im losing my girlfriend id like a full explanation

⤷ yourusername my hairline is still intact?

⤷ landonorris devoured.

username15 does he not get bored of you asking him questions all the time?

⤷ yourusername not really, 'cos when i run out of work related questions i spiral into asking if he's mad at me every 20 minutes

⤷ username6 honestly so real for that

[yzashaven]

2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒11

꒰ —♡ D U M B I F I C A T I O N﹒O V E R S T I M ꒱

EVENT MASTERLIST !

FEATURING ! itto, neuvillette, kazuha, cyno x fem!reader

WARNINGS ! dumbification ofc, mentions of overstimulation, mirror sex, prone bone, missionary, taken from behind, praise, degradation, clit stim, nipple stim, dacryphilia for itto if you squint, squirting, french with neuvi!!

NOTE ! NOTHING IS PROOFREAD HELP. i was supposed to include scara for this one but decided last minute to put his in a separate post instead :3 also i hope these count accordingly to the kinks <3 hell week is done for me so i think i can get started on the rest !!

event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @kana-de @ciarchivez @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @kateybuggi @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @supercoolusernameomg @uchihaeirin @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @nothingfuninthislife @eunchaeluvr @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @zxdksimpo @kikosaidbye @bleubirdinthesky @rottmntrulesall @angelofdarkness2 @kvronushi @adeptuscharm @wolfiafan10

—ARATAKI ITTO

no because he can easily fuck you dumb due to his size + that oni strength and stamina goes a long way. trust. also loud mention of how cocky he becomes?!

"you look so pathetic, so needy~" itto was holding your ass up as he pounded your pussy from behind. if he wasn't holding onto your body, you for sure would've already collapsed by now—well your upper half had already done just that but that's besides the point here. your moans were muffled by the pillow that you held on to, it also catched the tears that rolled down your cheeks due to the amount of plessure being emitted to your body right now. "you take my cock so well. want me to fill you up, don't ya~?" he leans down close to whisper those dirty words in your ear. him being closer just let his cock reach deeper, causing your walls to clench around him tightly, earning a deep groan of approval from the oni. "fuck, didn't know you could get even tighter, hah~" he slows down his thrusts for a while, "feels real good, doesn't it? n-ngh~ that's because i'm the one fucking you. that's right~" he pulls back, making you whine and look back at him as the sudden feeling of emptiness engulfed you. he smirked, pushing your head back down into the pillow before slamming back in, thrusting roughly, eliciting loud moans and cries from you. "feels good? tell me it feels good, come on." he was now fucking you hard, waiting for you to comply with him, "f-feels so good~ itto~! fuck—right there~!!" listening to your sobs, he continues to drive you to cum around him. not soon after, he chuckles darkly at the scene before him; with a loud explicit moan of his name, you had let the feeling of intense ecstasy take over your whole body as you spasmed under him, squirting. the bed beneath was already soaked but this one had just made it even wetter than before. "god, you're just so hot, baby. come here, lemme fuck you some more~"

—NEUVILLETTE

he'd definitely fuck you on a desk with your legs spread wide open just for him, but that's a different story. for now, i'd love to mention how good he'd be at heart fluttering praise + mirror sex <3

"don't you see how perfect you look like this, ma amour?" neuvillette whispered directly into your ear as his hands continued to trail down your body, from the soft flesh of your neck and collarbone that were covered in lovely bite marks, to your hips, and to your thighs that were soaked of your arousal along with the mix of your previous orgasms not too long ago. "eyes on the reflection, pretty girl." you lazily direct your eyes to the large mirror in front of you both, showing a lewd scene; you sat on his lap with your two legs spread wide, his cock impaled you deep, stretching you out so much and so good. neuvillette's hands made their way down to your inner thighs, holding them apart, "see how well you're taking me?" he slightly lifts your thighs before slowly thrusting up into your still drenched cunt, making you whimper at the sensation of being filled yet again. "you haven't said a word in quite some time now, is that pretty little head of yours still functioning properly, hmm?"—it wasn't. he peeked at your expression in the mirror, a fucked out look on your face, drool coming down from the corners of your lips, eyes half lidded, all the while your moans and pleas were echoing throughout the walls of the enclosed room. "c-cumming—cumming...! cock s-so good... neuvi~!" he smirked at the way your body reacted towards his touch, thrusting up one last time, making sure his tip would hit your cervix as you orgasmed for what felt like the hundredth time already. kissing your neck softly as his fingers gently set a comfortable pace on your clit, "tu es si adorable, ma chérie~ tell me... tu as envie de plus~?"

[ "my love" ♡ "you're so adorable, my dear~" ♡ "do you crave for more~?" ]

—KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

MISSIONARY. justttt yes. he loves being able to see all of you; from your face, observing how it reacts to him—the way your lips part to gasp with each thrust that lets his tip hit your cervix, each cry for his name that left your lips drives him absolutely crazy.

"that's it, love... keep taking me like that~" kazuha coos gently, hands gripping at your thighs, spreading them open just for him. he's leaning close to you, allowing you to tangle your fingers in his soft hair. "darling~ you feel so good... can you feel me?" he bucks his hips, reaching deep inside you before beginning to grind against you as one of his hands makes its way to grope at your breasts, delicately fondling with the soft flesh and teasing your nipples in between his fingers. to which he then leaned down to take one in his mouth—licking around the bud and gently nibbling on it, eliciting a lewd moan from you. the mixture of that and his gentle grinding that had his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly made you feel weak. "k-kazu—ah~! gonna cum~!" "cum around me, love~ you're so pretty when you do~" with that, he pulled back before beginning to thrust into you again sweetly, at a pace that was comfortable for you as he helped you ride out yet another orgasm that evening. he paused his movements for a while, taking in the sight of you writhing beneath him, choked back sobs and sweet moans being drawn from your agape lips over and over again. "...you look way too ravishing for me to just watch you, love..." kazuha lets out a satisfied sigh, setting a faster pace than before, causing you to scream out his name in pornographic moans that echoed through the room as the moonlight was shining down at you through the window, making the scene look ever so majestic. "my darling~ looks so mesmerizing while crying out my name. let me hear more of you, i'll give you so... so much more tonight~"

—CYNO

deep prone bone. that's all that i can say other than oh dear archons he'd be another one that's pretty damn good at praise...but also throws light degrading word at you from time to time—he's serious during it i swear, no dad/cyno jokes (at least for this time)

"such a pretty whore you are..." cyno pulls back fully, only to slowly dip back inside, fully sheated within your warmth yet again. "...aren't you?" you moan as a reply, muffled whimpers attempt to escape your lips as he pushed your head further into the pillows beneath, making you look so helpless as he continued to fuck you into the soft mattress—a pool of your arousal beneath you, directly at your clit, coating it in the sticky and wet fluid as your sweet sensitive bud rubbed against the sheets, only adding to the stimulation you were already getting from his thrusts alone. cyno moves your hair to the side, giving him acces to the back of your neck, sucking on the soft skin soon after. "you smell so good, you taste so good... i can't ever get enough of you~" he groans, sharply snapping his hips against yours. he peeks at your face, smirking at the view, "fuck—you're practically drooling on this cock, pretty girl. s'that good?" you nod, slurring a few words of approval. cyno's hands grip your waist to elevate your hips a bit, letting his fingers graze your delicate skin towards your clit. his fingertips pleasuring the swollen, covered in cum little bud at a pace that matched with the thrusts of his hips and sending shivers down your spine that soon travelled to the rest of your body, "let me give you even more pleasure, my pretty slut~ you don't even need to say a word, stay still and take my cock, yeah~?"

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

SHOPPING WITH YOU 🤍

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: i have arisen from the dead with this blurb instead of actually finishing the two other series i have... anyway! this was so cute to write hehe

luke, to put it simply, was a pack horse.

he had been dragged around the shopping complex all morning, bags of snacks and clothes adorned his arms and he had never been happier.

the reason for his happiness was the excited girl rushing back to him with a candle in hand gushing over the smell. "luke! luke! ahh smell this one!" she places the candle under his nose and, yep sure enough, its vanilla. your favorite scent.

nearly all of the candles you've picked out this morning have been some variation of vanilla; french vanilla, caramel & vanilla, coffee & vanilla, light vanilla- what even is that?

"oooh we've got to get these! look at them, they're adorable!" she says picking up a pack of heart shaped tea-light candles and placing them in lukes arms.

after he pays - he will always insist on paying no matter how much she argues - when his girlfriend notices a bookstore across from the current one they're in, she takes off dragging him behind her and exclaiming how they must go in there.

a smile appears on lukes face as he watches her's light up with joy while she flicks through books and spins back between the shelf and him chattering excitedly about each book. the girl - y/n, his y/n, was so wrapped up in her little world that she barely noticed when luke slipped away and scoured the aisles looking for a book that he think you'd like.

he found two, both with pretty covers - which she loves - and both written by authors she loves.

"luke?" the girls tentative voice fills the store, and he quickly spins around finding his way back to her.

"hey you," he says his voice low and adoring when he sees the worry on her face before she notices him. "i'm here."

"hey," she breathes, coming to a stop in front of him. "you disappeared." she hesitates a little, "i'm sorry for dragging you around all day, i know this isn't your cup of tea."

luke softly smiles down at her placing the bags on the floor next to him and he wraps his arms around her waist. "baby, i could be completely covered in bags and it wouldn't matter, you're here so im here."

y/n's eyes fill with so much love and she leans in to place a soft kiss on luke's lips. "i love you so much," she whispers.

luke grins and picks up the bags letting her lead the way to the counter, "oh wait i forgot to get that book!" his girlfriend says, "be right back!" luke discreetly picks up the books and pays for them before the before she comes back.

the girl appears again with another book and smiles brightly at luke when he pays and then allows him to lead her out of the store and to their car.

when they're both home that night snuggled up in bed luke leans over the edge and picks up the two books he had bought earlier.

"luke!" his girlfriend shrieks peppering with kisses when she sees the books. "you're my favorite human i swear. i love you so much."

"not as much as i love you," luke hums kissing the top of her head as she settles into him. "read to me," he whispers.

your calming voice fills the quiet room and luke presses a heartbreakingly adoring kiss to the top of your head.

"not as much as me."

[deathtastegirl]

girl nu metal that isnt kittie: a collection

sugarcoma: british nu metal, very raw first album and a more clean but less nu second album. features metal britney spears cover

defenestration: also british, had 2 albums and one ep. a lot more british than sugarcoma

my ruin: very riffy and stopped being nu after the second album (like kittie)

tura satana/manhole: same singer as my ruin. was rap-rock and then dropped the rapping after the first album (mostly).

otep. brutal nu metal. honestly became a lot more nu over time?

spike 1000. toured with a lotta real popular bands (static-x, staind, stone temple pilots etc) but ended up becoming forgotten.

human waste project. was featured in a lotta metal magazines when they were together. they weren't too popular.

eths. they're french! and they're brutal!

still breathing. from my homestate! they were christian, so they weren't too heavy. jesus wouldn't like that.

you're pretty. very atmospheric/experimental. not on streaming services.

infected rain: honestly not too nu metal but they count i guess

bands i didnt put and why

flyleaf: im so sick can be nu metal sure but they're just a rock band that honestly sounds more emo

jack off jill: i see them in sm nu metal playlists/lists, but they aint nu metal. not even close lol.

evanescence: bring me to life is the only nu song they have. sorryz

guano apes: open your eyes is pretty nu metal but thats about it

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[ddejavvu]

mei! can you write a little hangman trying to corral and take care of his drunk gf?? im a lil tipsy rn and thinking abt it

tw for mentions of getting sick

"Bradshaw," Jake taps his fellow aviator on the shoulder, two beers in hand, "Where's my girlfriend?"

"Phoenix took her to the bathroom," Bradley informs Jake, "She was feeling a little queasy, I think."

"Shit," Jake groans, shoving both beers into Bob's unsuspecting hands. The WSO blinks bewilderedly, but passes the drinks to Fanboy and Payback when they invite him over to the dartboard.

Jake shoulders his way through the crowd, beelining for the women's restroom and slapping a hand over his eyes before pushing the door open.

"I'm not trying to see anything," He calls out, standing in the doorway, "I just want to know if my girlfriend is in here."

He hears a distressed groan from you to his left, and Phoenix calls out, "It's just us, Hangman. You can come in and open your eyes."

He does as instructed, finding you crouched on the floor inside the third stall. Phoenix is behind you, your hair gathered back into her hands as you hover expectantly over the toilet.

"Nothing yet," Phoenix fills your boyfriend in, "I think it's less about the booze and more about the bottomless fries."

"Gotcha," Jake nudges her away to take her place, swooping your hair up again when it falls over your face, "You've been snackin, huh baby?"

"I didn't eat that many," You swear, but Jake knows practically any amount of the bar's greasy french fries can be vomit-inducing, "I want- I need water."

"I got it," Phoenix heads for the door, "Don't let her eat any more, Hangman!"

Jake's confused until you reach for your purse and retract a napkin stuffed with fries.

"Hey- hey! No," He takes them before you can eat any of them, chucking the handful into the toilet to deter you, "Baby, what are you doing? Those made you sick."

"But they're so good," You lament, "Jake, they've got the garlic salt on 'em, and- and I want more!"

"But they're too greasy for you to handle right now," He smooths a hand down your back, "Baby, you can't eat those when you've been drinkin', that's why we're in here. You can have some on Friday night, m'kay? You can be DD."

"I'm not even sick anymore," You grumble, all of a sudden struggling to your feet. Jake backs out of the stall so that you can stand, but your drunk mind seems to envision a velcro patch covering Jake's chest, and you stick your own matching one to it to throw your arms around his neck.

"I want food," You inform Jake, and he leans in to kiss you despite your beer-breath, "I want something big, and- and greasy, and meaty, and-"

"How about pancakes?" Jake offers, ringing his hands around your waist in case you decide you're going to lean your full weight on him, "We can head to Denny's, it'll only be a five minute drive."

"Do they put garlic salt in their pancakes?" You wonder, gazing at Jake like he's a prophet. He's not, but he thinks he knows the answer anyway.

"Uh," He chuckles slightly, glancing at the door when Phoenix returns, a glass of water in her hands, "I don't think so, darlin'. Here, drink that," He pats your back, releasing his hold on you so that you can take the cup from Phoenix, "All of it, honey, then we'll head for Denny's. Okay?"

"Mhm," You nod around the rim of the glass, the sound echoing slightly as you gulp down the water.

"Takin' her for pancakes," Jake locks eyes with Phoenix, "I'm gonna go get her purse, can you supervise?"

"Hurry up," She nods towards the door, "Fanboy's a nosy drunk, I'm pretty sure he already rooted through her stuff and found a tampon."

"Christ almighty," Jake scoffs, storming out while you chug down the rest of the water in your glass. He does, in fact, find Fanboy seated by your purse, inspecting a plastic-wrapped tampon with bewildered eyes.

"It comes out of the plastic, dipshit," Jake demonstrates, popping the applicator off and stuffing it back on after they've gotten a good look, "Phoenix was right, you are nosy. You wanna inspect her lipstick, too?"

"Oh please, we see that all the time." Rooster drawls, yanking at Jake's collar and revealing a deep pink kiss mark against the base of his neck. The pilot grins beneath his mustache, collecting the coins from your wallet that Fanboy had counted to occupy himself and handing them off to Jake, "Just be lucky he didn't go through your wallet, Hangman, he would have found those nudes you keep in there."

[shalomniscient]

Thoughts on this?

Since arlecchino is from Fontaine, I'd imagine her native language being French, or I guess, Fontainian. So imagine as she's pounding into you from behind, grunting and groaning your name as she gets pussydrunk off of you, and she starts whispering in your ear? Like, praising you in Fontainian, telling you how good you feel, how good you're taking, how good of a wife you are? Imo it's one of the hottest fucking things. You literally got Arlecchino so pussy-whipped her brain has to resort to its default settings.

ANON AHDHSHSJSKSKDJSHSKSL ??? the way this would be a 4k word fic if i knew how to speak french……. ASHDHHD IM GOING CRAZY ANON [nsft utc]

cw. breeding, mild bondage

the way she’d have you face down ass up on the bed, maybe with your wrists tied above your head as she fucking pounds into you from behind. strong, blackened hands dig into the meat of your hips as she holds you steady, all the while driving her cock into you with deep, brutal thrusts that have you seeing stars. she drapes her body over yours, firm breasts pressing into your sweaty back and hair tickling the skin of your nape as she leans down to whisper absolute fucking filth in your ear.

“taking me so well, hm? s-such a good fucking girl for me, so fucking good, baby, sucking my cock in so deep. c’mon, cum for me. i know you can, baby, give me one more, yeah? just one more, pretty baby, wanna feel this tight fucking cunt cum around my cock again like it was made to do—“

and when you do inevitably cum with a hoarse wail, her words turn into low yet equally hot growls and grunts as she rockets to her own high and spills thick cum into your clenching, pulsing cunt. each spasm of your muscles seem to pull her cum in deeper, and arlecchino feels nearly delirious with pleasure. she ruts into you like an animal, fat cockhead bumping against your cervix every now and then as if trying to deposit her cum right into your womb itself. once it’s over she flops onto her side, still holding onto your hips and pulling you with her. the movement draws a whine from you, the friction making your overstimulated cunt clench and arlecchino groans from behind you as another small spurt of cum leaks from her cock into your overstuffed pussy.

she doesn’t pull out, of course, not for a while. she needs to make sure it takes, after all.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 23.

Summary: A conversation between you and Oliver as you both try to distract yourselves from thinking about the day behind, and the night ahead.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

A/N: 2957 words. i split the henrys dinner into two parts because the dinner itself was very different tonally to the conversation with oliver that needed to be had i think. this part is sfw but the next part Will Definitely Not Be :) also im putting more gratuitous shakespeare mentions because i love characters pointing out their own narrative parallels. i feed off of the lovely comments y'all leave, so if you have any thoughts you'd like to share, i always love to hear them!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

No matter what you wore, these formal events made you feel like you were choking.

Oliver finds you in the shared bathroom a few hours before dinner began, already dressed and agitatedly fussing with your collar in the mirror. Spotting him in the reflection, your scowl doesn't clear, but you do start vocalising the thoughts that had been running through your head.

"Lady Daphne has three children, all under fifteen."

"What?" Oliver, still looking entirely casual in sharp contrast to you, leans against the sink, watching you with interest.

"Tonight; the woman next to you who isn't Ven, she has three children under fifteen, their names are -" squeezing your eyes closed tightly, willing yourself to remember, you swear with frustration as the children's names elude you. You'd managed to find and memorise Henry of Suffolk's children's names - Henry Jr and Charlotte - but you're again feeling like it's not enough. Your collar feels too tight.

Unbuttoning your top button for what must be the fifth time in the past half hour of your indecision, you groan with frustration.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asks carefully, to which you try and waive off his concern. Clearly, it doesn't work, considering he's making his way over to you to rest a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine, it's fine," you tried again, though it still comes out with clear irritation. Closing your eyes again you try and calm yourself enough to focus, "I saw their names the other night in my notes, I know this," you hissed under your breath, "Lady Daphne and Lord Henry; he's Sir James' godson and his own sons are named..." you wrinkled your nose, braced against the counter, "they're fucking French names, I know this!"

"Are Lady Daphne and Lord Henry French?" Oliver asks.

"No, they're just pretentious," you bit out, though suddenly it came to you, "Regis, Gabriel, and Louis." A grin lights up your face at that; the tension leaves you for the moment in the wake of your small victory. You feel like you can breathe again. Oliver gives you a hesitant smile, at least glad to see you're feeling better for having finally remembered. Breathing a relief sigh, you turn to him properly, "how are you, Ollie?"

"Should I remember Regis, Gabriel, and Louis at dinner?" He asks with faint hesitancy. You shrugged.

"I'm sure it couldn't hurt," logically you knew your own anxious preparations were often too detailed for what the night would actually require, but if you had information that could help ease Oliver into this world to which he was unaccustomed, you'd offer whatever you could to make him feel prepared.

But when he asks if you want to stay with him while he gets himself ready for the evening, you still find yourself hesitating.

Farleigh had found you that afternoon as you'd been coming back in from your gardening; he looked more than a little irritated, but refused to explain his mood. There was something unusually guarded about him at the time, something almost bordering on reproachful in the way he looked at you.

As your heart sank with realisation, you tried to find a way to explain to him everything that had happened between you, Felix, and Oliver. The tricky part of it all would most certainly be reassuring him that you believed him entirely, while also figuring out a way to explain why you'd given Oliver another chance despite knowing he was lying to you and Felix. There was no way you'd be able to explain yourself in this moment, and Farleigh seemed to realise this too.

"If you have something to say to me," Farleigh told you tersely, glancing over his shoulder where you could both hear Felix chattering loudly to Oliver down another corridor, "if you can bare to tear yourself away from your darling, little Iago," he spits, and you sighed deeply, expression clearly showing your disappointment, which Farleigh paid no mind to, standing to his full height and fixing his cool gaze upon you, "you know where I'll be."

So now, here you were, after almost an hour trying and failing to distract yourself by skimming through Shakespeare's Othello since Farleigh's latest cruel nickname for Oliver had reminded you of it, you'd decided to bite the bullet and get yourself ready. Really you should head over to Farleigh's room and sort things out with him, talk everything through and smooth it all over, but Oliver looks so helpless at the mere thought of what tonight would require. You tell yourself you can always talk to Farleigh later.

The afternoon eases itself into early evening with far less tension than the middle of the day had brought with it. Simply being in Oliver's company does wonders for your nerves. Even if talk between you is limited, the silence is not uncomfortable; Oliver gets himself ready, and you continue to skim the play while splayed out on Oliver's bed, and the duvet that used to be yours, easing each other's anxieties in quiet parallel.

You're looking for a quote you half remember from when you'd studied the play back in high school, a line that would be all too fitting of an offer to Farleigh when you saw him next, picking up on his allusion while trying to assure him you weren't just blindly believing Oliver over him - there.

I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.

You keep the text open on the bedspread before you as Oliver asks you questions about the unspoken scripts that you all must follow throughout the night. There's something like vindication that wells up within you when you realise how easy you find it to talk him through them.

"Do you always wear suits to these things?" Oliver asks carefully in the intimate moment in which you stand before him, doing up the cuffs of his dress shirt.

"The Henrys dinners? Yes," you nod, nimble fingers dancing against the fabric by his wrist. An amused smile makes it's way across your lips as you explain without even really thinking, "the first and last time I wore a cocktail dress to a Henrys dinner I made one of them, Henry Rochester I think, very uncomfortable," you smirked at the memory, and though Oliver's glad to see you're more smug rather than uncomfortable about the memory, he still doesn't quite seem to understand why.

"Because you're...?"

"Technically yes," you huffed a laugh, letting go of the first cuff to do the second, "because he now gets hard thinking about me in a dress and he doesn't know how to feel about it, and I don't want to deal with that." For a moment, the words simmer in the air between you both, and you finish up with the second cuff, stepping back with a pleased little smile. Oliver, however, still seems to be confused, and finally you acquiesce, giving him the final piece of the story;

"It was a very nice dress, Henry was just so bloody wasted he forgot I was the one wearing it when he couldn't see my face when he walked in on Fi and I in the wine cellar decided to stick around and watch with his dick in his hand," you shook your head dismissively at the memory, rolling your eyes but still grinning, "which isn't our fault, it's our wine cellar, he's the one getting drunk and going for a roam on someone else's estate."

It startles a laugh out of Oliver, the sound bright and sharp as his hand comes up reflexively to cover his mouth. Your expression scrunches up, pleased at the sound. In the few moments that follow, you straighten out Oliver's collar as he's giggling to himself, watching you from behind his hand with warmth and something almost adoring.

"I should show you some time," you wet your lips, crossing your arms as you gave him a leering look over, your intentions obvious. Oliver flushes a little, smiling under your gaze.

"The dress?"

"The wine cellar," you corrected, making Oliver laugh once more.

"You sure you're not going to get me drunk and brick me in down there?" He asked, and your eyebrows rose at the unexpected reference to Poe's Cask of Amontillado. At your obvious surprise, Oliver gives a half smile, reminding you that you'd left a book of Poe's work in the drawer by his bed. He'd read it? You're not sure why you're so touched by that, but you are.

"If we end up drunk in the wine cellar, I promise I won't be leaving you alone down there," there's a surprising amount of affection in your voice for what is ultimately some pretty on the nose flirting, but Oliver seems to appreciate it nonetheless.

When you return from your own room with a pair of cufflinks for him, however, his expression is pensive as he's sitting on the edge of the bed, flicking through the copy of Othello you'd left there.

"Thought my party had something to do with the Midsummer Night's Dream one," he says with faint confusion. You've already got the line you'd found earlier memorised, so you're not concerned that he's flicking through, losing your page in the process.

"No, it is, it's just Farleigh -" except you really don't want to tell Oliver exactly what Farleigh had called him, had implied about him with a single, derisive nickname alone. Iago. You shrugged, "he just said something earlier that reminded me of it is all." Then, sitting down beside him, you shoot for a smile, "what are you up to now; tie?"

For a long few moments, Oliver gives you this utterly unreadable expression. You wonder if he knows the play; if he did, he could almost definitely make an educated guess about what Farleigh's comment may have been, especially given the very recent circumstances. Even if you don't know exactly how Oliver would react to something like that, you're not exactly eager to find out.

The moment thankfully does pass without further comment on the play, with Oliver instead standing and heading to the full length mirror by the wardrobe.

"Is your family helping Felix's with paying for Farleigh's uni and stuff?" Oliver asks with genuine curiosity in his voice as he glances at you in the mirror's reflection.

"What?" The question seems to come out of nowhere, and your reaction is entirely genuine.

"I just wondered if that was, you know, part of the reason he was so loyal to you," Oliver shrugged, though there's something almost apologetic in his eyes, "and, I guess, why you knew you could trust him to be so loyal?"

How did he even know the Cattons were helping with Farleigh's education? Your suspicions were with Elspeth, whom you loved despite how much of a gossip she always was, but Oliver admits that Felix had told him about how he and Farleigh were cousins, and Sir James' guilt over his semi-estranged sister, all the way back at Oxford. Ah, makes sense. Part of it was probably to explain why Farleigh was always hanging around them despite his obvious distaste for Oliver. It takes you a beat to compose your thoughts; knowing both Oliver, and Farleigh, you had to be deliberately sure of whatever information you shared in this moment.

"I'd give Farleigh anything if he asked," you admitted, wearing a faint, sad little smile as you recall how coldly he'd looked at you earlier that day, "but he never has," you shook your head, "not about something like that at least. Why?"

Looking over at the mirror, you see Oliver with his tie done up, looking at you in the reflection as though you're a puzzle he's desperately attempting to solve. But, when you smile, he returns the look in kind.

"I think this might just be one of those times where I have to remember you telling me there's more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy," Oliver says with a wry smile, and you can't help but laugh at the memory of your first proper conversation with him about your friendship with Farleigh on one of Oxford's many rooves.

"Farleigh is simply one of my best friends; I don't begrudge him his pride, it's part of who he is, and I love who he is," with your warm laughter, the mood in the room has lightened considerably, and you finally stand. Wrapping your arms around Oliver from behind, perching your chin on his shoulder, you take in the sight of you both in the mirror.

"You know, I think you'd look so beautiful in a dress if you ever wanted to wear one," you tell Oliver idly, handing over the box with the little, golden cufflinks that you'd been fidgeting with on the bed.

"Beautiful enough to give an old man a sexuality crisis?" He asked with a blithe grin, pulling out of your grip if only to make his way to the cupboard where his jacket had been hung.

"Oh, undoubtably," you don't even hesitate, sitting yourself in the arm chair by the window, watching him once more.

"Don't know if I could start with a cocktail dress," he says, gazing at himself in the mirror with a pleasantly thoughtful look in his eyes as he genuinely considers the idea. Then, "I think I trust you with this more than I trust me," he gives a suddenly self conscious chuckle, ducking his gaze, fidgeting with the collar of the jacket he was still holding.

"You don't have to start anywhere if you don't want," you assured him faintly, but Oliver's smile is so damn affectionate.

"It's fuckin' impossible to describe the kind of effect you have," he tells you, shaking his head, "if you say I'd look beautiful, all I know is that I think I want to look beautiful, just so long as it's you who's looking at me."

"I feel very lucky sometimes," you give an endeared hum at his words, grinning to yourself, "my beautiful boys." Oliver, jacket now on, freezes. He's turning a delightful shade of red at that, looking like he was trying and failing to fight off a pleased grin. Finally, he meets your gaze in the mirror, "would you let me put together a costume for you, for your birthday?"

"What?"

"It's a costume party after all, could I put together a costume for you? Not a cocktail dress, I promise," you teased, and Oliver finally turned back to you, regarding you with nothing but love and affection.

"You know, sometimes I still can't believe you give me the time of day," the words almost seem to surprise him as they leave his lips. Something in your chest tightens, and you pause, once again caught off guard by Oliver Quick. There's a sweetness to the way he speaks that has butterflies fluttering so strangely in your stomach, "you're so..." he turns the words over in his mind, looking for the correct one, before he finally settles, "you're a dream," he says simply, "I don't think you don't get enough credit."

His words fill the sudden silence of the early evening as he steps towards you, cufflinks in hand, offering them as a silent request for assistance. You agree without even thinking.

In the back of your mind, you hear Farleigh calling Oliver Iago, but you can't bring yourself to care. Yes, Oliver spent enough time around you, observing you, talking to you, being in your space, that he knows exactly what to say and how to say it to endear himself to you. Clearly he's genuinely fond of you, but it's not often he gives you a compliment like this. Everything always so deliberate.

But it feels so fucking good to have someone put in the effort for you, someone other than Felix. Felix had always known how you worked, what songs to sing to make you dance if the whim ever struck him. It almost overwhelms you to realise that Oliver had learned how to hum along to the quiet song your heart sings too.

You wonder if you should tell Oliver that he doesn't need to try and manipulate his way into your life, that you'd already made a place for him here, all he had to do was ask to stay.

"I keep giving you the time of day because I'm very, very vain," you can't bring yourself to face his sincerity with any of your own, or you think you may either start crying, or possibly jump his bones, and it's too close to dinner for either. Instead, you grin from ear to ear, teasing tone letting him know how clearly you were joking, as you fixed the first cufflink to his jacket's sleeve, "and you keep saying lovely things about me."

"Lucky for me then that I don't think I'll ever run out of lovely things to say about you," you'd forgotten just how well Oliver could flirt when he really wanted to. Eyes bright and smile brighter, you can see mischief sparkling in his eyes when you look up, meeting his gaze. You love this boy so much it feels like it hurts at times like this.

"Think that means I should keep you very close by, at all times."

"Very few places I'd rather be, sweetheart."

That beautiful bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you.

Later, out of this space, out of this moment, out of Oliver's arms, you could go back to worrying about the night, about all the lies oscillating around your whole situation, about Felix and Farleigh and Venetia. Later, you'll find yourself thinking that Farleigh may have had far more of a point with Othello than you'd first realised when you read 'one that loved not too wisely, but too well' before you put the text back on the shelf.

Later.

Right now, you let Oliver pull you in for a kiss.

[user2772636]

So American

Oh God, it's just not fair of him

•○●$☆$●○•

•○●$☆$●○•

When your french boyfriend loves to tease you about how "american" you are, you just think you should write a song about it.

---

Actor!Joseph Descamps x Singer!Reader

Warnings: none but flufffff

---

---

Joseph Descamps wasn't fond of the fact that "the americans" drove on the right side of the road or that the wheel was on the left side of the car. But you grew up here, and he trusts you.

It helped him relax, knowing what you were wearing. His famous brown leather jacket with an "I ♡ Paris" shirt on the inside. You looked like a tourist in his country, but he guesses you look "trendy" here.

He places his hand on your thigh, and it's warm enough to make you shiver in relaxation.

To you, Joseph Descamps was the dream boyfriend. He's pretty, tall, smart, funny, fashionable, and even more. What you liked most was his accent and the way he speaks his mother tongue. He's almost too perfect, like a man you'd only find in poems.

Every time you cracked a joke, he'd laugh uncontrollably. He understood every one of them, clinging on the words like a ladder.

When he saw an american flag in the back of your car that you hadn't taken out since the fourth of july, he teased you about being so american. You could only roll your eyes, planning on kissing those teasing lips later.

Every time you kissed, it felt like so many emotions filled you up, but you absorbed it in every type of way. It felt so nice, it felt so good. He made you feel like this and only him.

Being honest to yourself, you'd marry the man. Sure, you're young, and sure you've only been together for a year, but you love him, and he loves you.

•○●$☆$●○•

You get a call from your producer and long-time best friend, asking if you were free over the week, having come up with an idea for a single.

"Well, I think I do. You know how I've been with Joseph these past few months since my break? Well, he's just so perfect. I mean his fluffy hair, his pretty eyes, his pretty pink lips, and his accent, God, his accent. He's so well read and so well dressed and he-"

"Hun, you're rambling again." Fuck. This is the 5th time.

"Sorry."

Plus, every time you lie on your bed, planning on taking a nap, it's so hard to do when he's literally right beside you, available for kissing and cuddling and loving. You're so in love with the boy you sacrificed your beauty sleep. Imagine that.

Okay, so this might be a bit much a bit too soon. But if love ever came up, he'd be the first in my mind. I haven't said I love you yet, and he hasn't either, but I know deep inside me I do. I really fucking do.

•○●$☆$●○•

"Joseph?" He tilts his head up from his paperback, raising his brows.

"Yes, mon ange?" He scoots a bit closer, bringing his arm around my shoulder.

I smile to myself, thinking of a game. "Think of a number."

He smiles back, this game all too familiar for him. "Okay." He pauses. "1, 2, 3..."

"6."

"I love you." I whisper, looking into his eyes from below.

He only stares, lips slowly turning up into a smile.

"I love you, too." He pauses again.

"Je t'aime, mon ange. Je ne peux pas respirer sans toi. Chaque fois que nous sommes séparés, tu es toujours dans mon esprit. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime." He kisses my lips after every I love you, and my breath stumbles at his confession.

"I don't understand what you're saying!" I laugh, kissing him back on occasion.

"Good." Another kiss. "It's too much for now. Just know I love you." The next kiss lasted longer. It was gentle, it was hungry, it was love.

•○●$☆$●○•

When "So American" came out, it hit the charts. Everyone loved it, and everyone supported it.

That's when they started to get the idea you, famous pop singer Y/N L/N, was dating famous french actor, Joseph Descamps.

Well, we'll see how long we can keep it from them.

•○●$☆$●○•

2 in a row?!?!??! So crazy rn. Its literally 2 am here and im sweating balls over the summer heat. This is hella short sorry but i wanted this so bad.

[catboygretzky]

Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:

10/?

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

People truly underestimate exyblr's ability to create a whole ass human out of nothing. you give us their place of origin, their position, their size, and maybe one fact about their life and BOOM a whole ass human.

🧜‍♀️ sapphicexy

Why is this so truuuuuuue 😭

🌞 blonde-jeremy-knox

jean moreau? im pretty sure no one has ever even heard him SPEAK but we know:

he's french. he's tall. he's a backliner. he doesn't talk to the press. he's perfect court but transferred from EAU to USC (which is literally the hugest change possible)

bing bang BOOM he is bitchy but quiet (probably raises his eyebrow in disdain a lot), a sturdy presence that is a little unsure of his place in the world but hides it behind bitchy comments who always strives to be better on and off the court.

💃fox-me-up follow

and he's gay

🌞 blonde-jeremy-knox

and he's gay

678 notes

🧚 goalie-stan

call me matt boyd the way i look at dan wilds like she hung the moon and stars

#god......Dan please.....end my suffering......

109 notes

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#it ain't happening sweetheart SHE'S NEVER GONNA TOP YOU

243 notes

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

do you ever want to squidge someone's cheeks SO BAD but you know they'd murder you for even thinking it

🦚 dilf-wymack

is this about andrew minyard

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

isn't everything

#just assume everything i say is about andrew minyard

1,002 notes

✍️ exy-fic-rec

icarus once flew

Fandom: Exy RPF

Pairing: Kevin Day/Andrew Minyard

Rating: E

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friends With Benefits

Word count: 59k

Summary: He'd done this before with teammates, and it hadn't affected anything; there was no reason this should be any different, so it wasn't different. But here on the bathroom floor, hugging his knees to his chest, Kevin could admit to himself that it was different than anything he'd done with teammates in the past.

It was different, because none of those teammates were Andrew.

#kevin day #andrew minyard #0203 #kandrew #psu #palmetto #psu foxes #explicit #exy rpf #fic rec #explicit #friends with benefits #angst #hurt/comfort

201 notes

🐋 sexyexy

ran into jeremy knox on campus and that girl was literally bouncing on his toes, what the fuck kinda -

#hated it btw #way too depressed for her rn

25 notes

🤳 badexyimagines

Imaaaaagine....... it's your first date with riko moriyama. He takes you to red lobster, you're allergic to lobster but he orders it for you anyway. You die

#exy #imagine #riko moriyama #esu #once again this is a JOKE

56 notes

[omwife]

Sanji Vinsmoke

small series or just falling for sanji/getting with him. part 1!

summary: sanji is gawking to zoro over nami when you surprise him from behind. he figures out that you're another crew mate who was absent for when he initially joined and fawns over you.

notes: bare with me cos im not far (at ALL) into the show and know nothing about how boats work. (do pirates use those wheels? they do right? they use it in this fic anyway.) alsoooo idk french so these r google translations

espèce de sale garçon - you dirty boy

"oh nami's so amazing." sanji said as he leaned his body forward from the barrel he was sat on, and took another long puff of the cigarette he was holding.

"shut up cook." zoro mumbled as he continued his practise of his technique.

"i dunno zoro, he is right." you said as you loomed over sanjis shoulder, who jumped at your voice, while everyone else seemed to perk up at it.

"y/n!!! you're awake!" nami said as she ran towards you and began rambling about what happened while you were asleep.

"y/nnnnnnnnnnnn." luffy called as his arms stretched out from his seat in front of the wheel to your shoulders.

"no- no luffy- no you're going to catapult into me- luffy- let go." you tried as you struggled against his hold before his body flung itself at you, pushing you both to the ground.

"luffy you idiot!" zoro screamed as nami ran over to the wheel to make sure the boat steered in the right direction.

sanji however, had been sat gaping at the way you looked and how he hadn't seen you before. it was a ship? how did he not notice your presence before? had you come aboard from a small ship?

"Y/NNN!!"

"USSOP!!"

"YOU'RE AWAKE!!" ussop yelled as he grabbed onto your forearms, you doing the same to him, and jumped up and down while spinning in a circle.

"I'M AWAKE!!" you yelled back just as loud and matched the large smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug.

"well maddam, how come i've never seen you before?" sanji said as his brain suddenly started working again, no longer being stopped by your beauty.

"i was asleep." you said as if it was normal for you to have been asleep for days on end, the smile not leaving your face as ussop wrapped his arm around your shoulder while smiling at sanji too.

"right.. well you must be hungry, any special requests love?"

"well aren't you a flirt?" you said as you unwrapped your self from ussop to move yourself closer to sanji, while ussop only raised an eyebrow at this with his smile standing brighter, "how about i come and oversee you make the food so we can make up on lost time?" you cooed as you wrapped a hand under the collar of sanjis shirt and fixed it, while he seemingly died inside.

his cheeks heated up at the unexpected flirting from you, while ussop snickered having been watching this in front view.

"oh i'll have something to eat too!" luffy said as he popped up from behind sanji, having listened in as soon as he heard the conversation switch to be about food.

sanji quickly turned and started questioning luffy about what he wanted in an attempt to hide the prominent blush that had creeped its way onto his face after your reply.

"good to have you back y/n." zoro grumbled as he tapped your back with the duller part of his sword as you followed behind sanji, causing you to turn back and throw a wink and a smile over your shoulder to him.

"looks like shes got sanji already." ussop said as he saw the kitchen doors close with you luffy and sanji inside, before luffy was pushed out of the door by two mystery hands.

zoro snorts at this, "guess they've both met their matches."

-

"so, you were asleep the whole time?"

"yeah. i got knocked up pretty bad in a fight on the island we met ussop at, so it took a while for me to come back to life i guess." you said as you sat at a stool and leaned your chin on your hands as you watched him pull out pots and other equipment.

"i would've forced myself to wake up sooner if i knew someone like you would've been here when i woke up." you said with a sly grin that only grew larger when sanjis movement paused for a moment, shocked, and quickly resumed his work as he decided to do it with his back turned so you didn't see his face.

"how bold you are darling. do you have a preference for sweet or savoury?"

"sweet please."

chills ran down sanjis back, your voice was like music to his ears, it was smooth and sweet and what you said didn't help with calming his already building love for you.

"so, introduce yourself to me." you grinned as he turned, leaving the food to cook on the stove top as he wiped his hands with a cloth.

"i am sanji vinsmoke, your ships cook. however i could be much more for you darling." he purred as he rolled his sleeves further up to his elbows.

"ai! you're dirty." you said as you giggled and only leaned further towards him.

"mon amor i couldn't resist when you look so perfect and pretty." he hummed as he grinned at you before turning his back and continuing his cooking.

"mm espèce de sale garçon."

this only made his smile grow as he plated up your food, making sure to make it as presentable as he could, while he put much less effort in plating luffys plate of barely anything but meat.

"call out to luffy dear?" he asked as you with a smile as he started on cleaning the dishes already.

you got up with a pink hue appearing on your cheeks, "luffy! your foods ready."

his stomps could be heard running towards the kitchen while namis screams about how he can't keep leaving the wheel was heard aswell.

"i hope to have your company more as i cook." sanji whispered into your ear, appearing behind you before he hummed and walked out, pulling his packet of smokes out.

-

done!

lmk what u think <3

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Okie dokey to give you some ideas...

May I request baji having a little sister whose a decade younger than him (like he was born in 1990 and she was born in 2003)? May I ask how would he (and by extention ryoko treat her?)

(Ofc if you don't like it or requests are closed rn please disregard it. Have a nice day :)))

I LOVE THIS!! Thank you so much for requesting!!

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

If Baji had younger sister, I feel like he'd try to be best brother. He genuinely would be so happy because he had to spend like 13 years as an only child and being only child is really lonely. So he definitely would be excited to have a sibling.

He'd definitely introduce her to his friends: Mikey, Kazutora, Draken, Mistuya and Pah-chin.

I like to think that he'd ask Mitsuya for advice since Mitsuya has little sisters and he'd gladly give Baji advice.

I feel like Baji often would give his sister piggyback rides very often and have her in his hands.

He'd be encouraging his sis when she'll be starting to take her first steps. He'd be like "Yes yes YES YES YOU'RE DOING WELL!"

When she's so little, he'll read bedtime stories to her and fell asleep with her.

He'd have a beef with a toddler if they take his sister's toy. Toddler is a kid too like his sis? So? So what? They took her toy!

He'd be so understanding and supportive to be honest.

He definitely would teach her things about fights and talk about Toman with her.

Watching movies together and for some reason his little sister ended up liking the goddamn horror movies which creeps him out.

Despite him being older, I feel like he'd play fight with her like a damn child her age.

He'd let her style his hair and probably would end up with the most ridiculous hairstyle.

For Ryoko, she'd be on the ninth sky from happiness to have another kid and she'd raise her with love and affection.

She loves her kids so much, they're her world and reason to live.

She'd give both of them equal affection and attention, tho the youngest would need more attention obviously, but Baji would help her because he loves spending time with his sister.

Lil sis: big brother, I'm going to be just like you!!

Baji: NO! No, no, no please mom is going to kill me.

Ryoko, just entering the room: Why would I kill you?

Baji:

Lil sis: I want to be just like big brother!

Ryoko: Honey no-

Because let's be fr. Baji has...questionable habits. I'm pretty sure you'd also be worried if your kid just decided to be like her big brother who burns cars when he's hungry.

____

Lil sis, 14 yo: You're 27 years old, stop acting like a grumpy old man!

Baji: Fuck you.

____

Baji: Im giong wih my friands.

Lil sis: Okey but why this late?

Baji: Jutro touman.

Lil sis: Jutro? You know Bosnian?

Baji: Non

Lil sis: French too?

Baji: Whst are yu sei?

Lil sis: Sei? Italian?

Baji: Fuck you.

Lil sis: At least you can curse correctly!!

[zbase1]

kisses with zerobaseone

genre: fluff

warnings: kithing (mwAh), swearing (buckle up lads), slightly suggestive in zhang hao and matthew's sections

author's note: this is my first fic on this blog 😳 hope you guys like it hehe

jiwoong

— confident king 😼😼

— knows how to make you swoon with his expeessions

— i mean, he didn't take all those acting lessons for nothing

— makes it super dramatic every time he wants to kiss you

— "my lips are lonely, mind if they meet yours?"

— "jiwoong is that really necessary"

— smiles throughout kisses AHHHH

— likes to give you forehead kisses before you go to sleep

zhang hao

— i am a firm believer that zhang hao's love language is physical touch 🗣️

— approaches you from behind with a back hug whenever you're cooking

— and he just starts lightly kissing your neck hello?????

— so you turn the stove on a lower setting before turning around to face him with your hands on your hips

— "what do you think you're doing hao?"

— "what i'm just showing my affection" 🤷🏻‍♀️

— but then zhang hao does NOT break eye contact with you and takes a step towards you which makes you very flustered

— he likes to put his hands on your shoulders so he can pull you closer to his body FHJSKDBSK

— i think kisses with hao would be very gentle and romantic

hanbin

— so so so sweet

— always asks for your permission to kiss you and makes sure you are comfortable

— it's also tradition of hanbin's to drive you back home and then kiss you before you get out of the car

— likes to hold both of your hands while kissing you

— holds you so gently honestly you forget your hands are in his

— hanbin's lips would feel so soft

— kissing him would feel like you're floating on a fluffy cloud during a pink and orange sunset

— "y/n you have really pretty eyes"

— "i could say the same about you, hanbin"

— overall so sweet and wholesome im screaming what a gentleman !!!

matthew

— you and matthew would be on a picnic date in this cute little park

— he's cronching on some green grapes obnoxiously (endearingly) loud

— "matthew chill brah you're gonna fucking choke on a grape sooner or later"

— "nuh uh" ☝🏻

— you guys would be lying down next to each other on the picnic blanket, cloud watching

— you feel a pair of eyes watching you instead of at the sky, so you turn your head and matthew's face was RIGHT THERE (jumpscare)

— he just giggles at your reaction and places a hand under your chin and kisses you

— will melt if you play with his hair

— also bonus i think matthew would enjoy french kissing (do what you want with this information)

taerae

— gives you a huge smile every time you guys are about to kiss

— his dimples oh my god

— we must stay focused brothers ‼️

— your favorite thing to do is to distract taerae while he's playing pubg

— "what y/n i'm trying to heal my teammate right now"

— you'd say nothing but just wrap your arms around him and his gaming chair from behind and steal a kiss on his cheek and run away

— taerae would calmly turn around, remove his headset, and bolt after you like a man on a mission

— "GET BACK HERE you made me lose !!"

— i'm sorry but i think out of the members taerae would have the crustiest lips (i say this out of love)

ricky

— ricky is usually too shy to make the first move, but when it came to your first kiss with him, oh boy

— it was the evening before prom and he had a sudden surge of confidence

— you would be getting ready and helping him tie his tie

— naturally, the distance between you two became closer

— you see ricky's eyes staring at your lips

— so you close your eyes, expecting him to kiss you

— until he doesn't.....

— "you know, they call me rizzard of oz"

— "stfu and kiss me ricky"

— also !! ricky thinks it's so cute how you have to tiptoe to reach his height !!

— pro tip: wear strawberry lip balm and he will literally gravitate towards you 🏃🏻‍♂️💨

gyuvin

— blushy baby omg

— loves when you kiss his cheek

— but the first time yall kissed, it was a disaster 😟

— bc the mf accidentally bOnked his head into yours while leaning in

— "oW gyuvin why you gotta be so damn tall"

— "and why you gotta be so short, y/n?? you're closer to hell than i am"

— despite the bickering and Hard fumble, it was a good kiss regardless

— that night, gyuvin giggled to himself and kicked his feet while laying in his bed trying to fall asleep, but he can only think about you