#one week with marilyn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweet-as-an-angel · 7 months

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how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival.

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two.

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

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mediumgayitalian · 6 months

Text

“Come here, you dweeb. Let me fix it.”

Will pouts, dragging his feet over and slumping half on top of him. Nico allows it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, pinching Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t react except for a wounded noise, muffled in Nico’s lap, so the situation is evidently quite dire.

“It’s just hair, Will.”

“But I worked on it!” He shifts around until he’s got his head in Nico’s lap, face turned towards him, body curled up on the grass around him. Nico brushes his tangled bangs off his forehead, meeting his big sad eyes. “I spent forty minutes with a stupid brush! And yet!”

“And yet,” Nico agrees, unable to appropriately school is face into one of somber understanding. Will scowls at him for his lack of proper sympathy, a little bit of genuine hurt in his eyes, so Nico leans down and kisses right between his brows in apology. He seems mollified, if only slightly, or at least he leans into Nico’s touch and stops mumbling quite so much.

“‘S’not fair.”

“Mhm.“

“Your hair listens to your instructions.”

“Yep.”

“Even Cecil’s hair listens to him, and no one listens to Cecil.”

Nico purses his lips thoughtfully. “I think Austin listens to Cecil.”

“Yes, I know. It’s an ongoing issue. I’m trying to train him out of it.”

“And how’s that going?” Nico murmurs, curling a strand of golden blond hair around his finger.

“Oh, well, I’m doing my best, so of course it’s going horribly.”

Nico snorts. He resists the urge to hold his palms to Will’s cheeks and kiss every single freckle at light speed, because he will screech something about how Nico is one-upping him in the romance department or something stupid like that. Instead he settles for looking at his dumb dramatic boyfriend’s face and marvelling over the fact that the cutest boy in the entire world, and Nico is being totally objective, hunts around camp until he finds whatever tree Nico is hiding under and curls up into a ball around him and trusts Nico to hold him while he complains about stupid things that genuinely hurt his feelings a little. It’s nice. So many people at camp are still so rigid around him, like he’s collecting information for their judgement day or something. Will prefers to exercise his lesser-known Apollonian talent of being a bigger drama queen than the god himself.

“Stay still,” Nico says softly, moving Will around so he’s laying perpendicular to Nico, now, head centered in his lap and staring up at the sky. Will sighs and squirms a little and turns his head to press a kiss to Nico’s knee, scrunching up his face and releasing it, and then settles in the position.

Humming something soft that exists on the fringes of his foggy memories, he sinks his hands into Will’s hair.

“It’s not that bad,” he promises, moving slowly and pausing whenever he comes across a knot.

Will harrumphs.

“I mean it, Marilyn Monroe. You can tone down the histrionics.”

“I used gel.”

Nico flicks a dried clump of it onto Will’s forehead, amused. “I can see that.”

“I followed every single one of Mitchell’s instructions!”

“I bet.”

“And yet!”

“And, yet.”

Nico has a sneaking suspicion that someone made a comment about Will’s hair, in the last few weeks. He can never confirm it and Will has been shifty about it every time he asks, but Nico has noticed the uptick in hoods and hats the past month and his little flinches every time Nico reaches up and tugs on it. Despite being oddly confident about the oddest things — why he is so proud of being able to fit his fist in his mouth, Nico will never know — Will is very sensitive to how people think of him. He needs to know he’s liked, and when people don’t like him, he gets…desperate, pleasing. The opposite of Nico, who becomes worse in an attempt to push them away on his own terms.

Nico leans down and presses a long, lingering kiss to his forehead.

“I like your hair, you know.”

“It’s a stupid mess.”

He smooths down a handful of it, pressing it over Will’s eye. He manages to keep a straight face for one, two, three seconds before he huffs a laugh, batting Nico’s hands away. Nico grins.

“I like the stupid mess.”

“Yeah, well, you like a lot of weird things.”

“Like you?” Nico suggests, pressing another kiss to the tip of his rounded nose.

“Shut up.”

Another strange thing about him, that Nico has to duck his head to hide his automatic smile: he gets embarrassed easily.

Nico never expected it of him, with all the dorky, medical-themed pickup lines and general shamelessness in his affection towards everybody on Earth, but especially Nico. When the poking, prodding attraction is turned on him, however, he shuts down like an overloaded Playstation. Nico can sometimes see the error messages playing behind its eyes. It’s hilarious.

“Will.” He pokes him in the cheek. “Hey.”

“What,” Will grumbles.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Watching the slow spread of red from below the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair is a delight. Nico watches in glee, wrestling Will’s hands away when he tries to slap them over his face.

“Shut up! Leave me alone! Go — flirt with somebody else!”

“You’d curse them to speak in rhymes for ten years,” Nico teases.

Will makes an agonised noise. “Who! Asked you! Shut up!”

“You’d sic Kayla on anyone who so much as winks at me, you jealous bitch.”

“I would not!”

“You would so. You rolled your eyes at everything Percy said for three weeks when you found out I used to crush on him —”

“I did not!”

“— and you didn’t even have the balls to ask me out, back then.”

“You are a — peddler of falsehoods! A prevaricator, a perjurer, and a fabulist!”

“And you sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Nico snickers. He catches the hand Will flails at him, pressing a kiss to the wrist, which only serves to fluster him more. He decides to take mercy when the kisses he trails down his arms result in one loud, long, tortured screech, pulling back and giving him some space.

Notably, he doesn’t move from Nico’s lap.

“I like it,” Nico admits, once Will has calmed down some. “I like that you’ve liked me for so long.”

Will peeks through the fingers he has covering his eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.” Nico squeezes his shoulders. “And endearing, which seems to be your sweet spot.” He presses a much softer kiss to the underside of Will’s ear, lingering there until he sighs, slumping under all the tension finally leaving his body. “I love you, Will. I love your clumsiness and your rambles and your nose and your freckles and your awkwardness and your jealousy and your hair and I love you, Will, all of you. Even the embarrassing weird parts.” He kisses him again. “Especially the weird parts.”

Will breathes slowly, carefully, evenly, face pressed to the inside of Nico’s thigh. His long eyelashes tickle his skin. Nico can feel the press of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, pulsing against his calf.

“I never thought you were a freak.”

Nico brushes his knuckles over his cheek. “I know.”

“I used to — talk about you. All the time. And your oxytocin levels.”

He smiles.

“I know.”

“Lee had a — chart.” Some of the flush rises back up in his cheeks. “A ‘Days Since We’ve Heard About Di Angelo’ chart.”

Nico bites his lip. Hard.

“The number never got higher than six.”

“…I am trying really, really hard, Will.”

Will sighs.

“You can laugh.”

Nico cracks up, trying desperately to muffle his giggles in his bitten fist. It doesn’t work very well, but the glare Will sends him is somewhat softened by the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Gods, you are — a mess.”

“Mhm.”

Nico cups the side of his face. Will turns, slightly, enough to press a kiss to the centre of his palm and then stay there, eyes closed, breathing against his sword-callused skin.

“I love you too, by the way. Obviously.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you bastard.”

“Go ahead and try to stop me,” Nico challenges, grinning into the passionately indignant kiss Will presses to his lips, finally, letting Nico curl his hands in his hair.

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copperbadge · 2 months

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I frequently do simple PowerPoint presentations in therapy, because they help me remember all the stuff to bring up and she likes it since it's a form of journaling I tolerate well.

But I'm also used to speaking to data nerds and academics when I do presentations, and I'm an anxious speaker, so by habit I start all presentations with humor, to put everyone at ease.

Which has led to some very ridiculous Therapy title slides such as

[ID: A PowerPoint reading "Sam's Two Week Rollercoaster" followed by "Therapist's Job Security" with therapist's name blocked out. Below, in tiny print and parentheses, is the phrase "That's a joke."]

Or the time that I wasn't going to do a PowerPoint but then threw one together last minute:

[ID: A PowerPoint slide reading "Half Assin It" featuring a photograph of a car engine with a taped-in Pringles can taking the place of some missing tubing.]

And then there's this coming week, where she asked me to do some research and I did not care for my findings. The list starts on slide 3 because I always like to start and end the presentation with happy things, so slide #2 is a picture of Polk watching youtube videos.

[ID: A powerpoint slide reading "A partial list of things I don't like" and below that in parentheses, "Starting on Slide 3". On the left is an image of Oreo cookies; on the right is the terrible hideous statue "Forever Marilyn" that I have ranted about in the past.]

Oreos stick in my teeth, don't @ me.

#therapy #I had a tag for that but I can't remember it #very neurotypical of me #not yet fired from therapy

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starkwlkr · 29 days

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Hi!! Can we have headcanons for all of the Jackman babies?

of course you can lovely anon 😘🫶🏼

alex

so he’s the firstborn and it’s canon that he was born in the year 2000 simply because i am so bad with dates (plus that’s the year my sister was born so it’s easy for me to remember)

he once told a girl at his school that his dad was wolverine to try to impress her and she didn’t believe him so he made hugh pick him up from school for a week even though he had his own car

he’s a big fan of horror movies, his favorite horror directors are mike flanagan and wes craven

he enjoys musicals every now and then though he’ll never admit it to anyone

him and reese are only two years apart so they attended school together for a few years. instead of ignoring reese, they would sit together at lunch and even had a few classes together.

he doesn’t go into acting like people expected him to. he goes to college and studies architecture (thank you to the anon that suggested this!!)

reese

my sweet middle child 🫶🏼

so he was very quiet and awkward in high school and his friend group was small. the only time he really talked was if he was with his friends/alex or if he was called on to answer a question

during parents teacher conferences, his teachers told you and hugh that the only complaint they had about reese was that he was too quiet and needed to participate. of course you got mad because if reese doesn’t want to participate then he doesn’t need to!!

dr. pepper lover i said what i said

his school didn’t have a film club so he made one with his friends and the first film they watched was chicago because why wouldn’t he want to show off how talented his mom is?? bonus: you attend one of their gatherings and talk about the production of the movie ☺️

btw if you didn’t read the other fic where i mentioned chicago the musical, it’s canon that marvel actress!reader plays roxie <3

he’s a big momma’s boy

his dream is to be a director and make a movie with you and hugh as the leads but he’s scared that the media is going to say that he only got the opportunity because he’s a nepo baby

his idols are marilyn monroe and his mom ❤️

his comfort movie is the muppets movie

olivia

olivia my queen 🫶🏼 so she is not afraid to tell it like it is

she’s close in age to dafne keen so they become best friends on the set of logan and have been ever since <3 of course dafne ended up becoming an honorary member of the jackman family

she follows in her parents’ footsteps and becomes an actress. she really doesn’t care if people call her a nepo baby, she knows she is 💅🏼

her first role was an A24 movie (of your choice) and she was going press interviews when deadpool & wolverine came out so she was asked a lot about the movie, mostly if she was in it

she was the valedictorian of her graduating class and included logan’s last words in her speech: “i’ve watched my brother, cousins and friends graduate and now it’s my turn. so this is what it feels like.”

have y’all seen the pic of romy mars, sofia coppola’s daughter, on the set of priscilla and jacob elordi is bringing her cake and singing happy birthday to her?? well olivia took some inspiration from romy and was on set of the new avengers movie that marvel actress!reader is directing and pedro pascal ended up being her cake and singing happy birthday to her 🤭

here’s the pic lol

ok that’s all for now <3 thanks for sticking around!! love y’all ☺️😘

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @flyestvenustrap @ru-kru @evasmlp

#marvel actress!reader #hugh jackman x reader

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snake-and-mouse · 2 months

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Imagine the most annoying guy in your college freshman intro to english class, like the most visible from a skyscraper case of needs-to-touch-grass kid who after one convo with you can tell A did NOT have to take out student loans and B it's a good thing because he thinks he's smarter than the professor so might get failed out of spite. For some goddamn reason you can't help kinda respect it while also not being able to stand him.

Now imagine he has no idea all the jocks on sports scholarships he's SOMEHOW friends with are obviously in love with him, and he keeps unwittingly reenacting the Marilyn Monroe up-skirt thing like twice a week, yet never notices the resulting boners.

And this behaviour will continue until one day he gets caught getting absolutely railed by the Dean's son in a bush behind the mess hall.

This is Shen Qingqiu, our beloved Peerless Cucumber

#svsss #scum villain #shen qingqiu #peerless cucumber #bingqiu

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cressida-jayoungr · 1 year

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One Dress a Day Challenge

June: Weddings

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes / Jane Russell as Dorothy Shaw and Marilyn Monroe as Lorelei Lee

This is certainly one of, if not the most classic double wedding scene in film, and the matching wedding gowns designed by William "Billy" Travilla were real trendsetters. There's a good writeup of them here, which I'll quote from:

"The dazzling floral lace wedding dresses featured a high neck, bell sleeves and tulle skirts. The two women also wore matching hats and netting. The overall look was romantic, graceful and delicate.

"The white floral lace gives the gowns a demure look without being entirely covered up and the bell sleeves add a playful touch.

"Drawing in at the waist, the lace overlay covers the entire torso of the dress. The layers of tulle fan out at the hips into a full skirt. The tea length gown sits just above the ankle, showing off some feminine strappy heels. The dress was buttoned half way up the back where it then had an open slit up to the neck.

"Both women wore their hair in pin curls at the nape of their neck with a lace netting headband on top. They had a thin veil which sat just below their nose... Both women carried a medium sized bouquet of white roses, tied together with long white ribbon which hung to their knees. They also had on fiery red lipstick with red nail polish to match."

The article also notes that rising hemlines in the 1950s "consequently led to the rise of shorter veils and thus attention was directed towards the bride’s wedding shoes."

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weebsinstash · 4 months

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Really like the idea of a yandere Vox who is so ride or die for his overconsumerist capitalist Musk-esque lifestyle UNTIL he sees it negatively affecting his darling and does a complete 180

like take that poly red string soulmate Vox x Reader x Alastor concept and, you've got Alastor KINDA warming up to technology and willing to watch TV and do other things with you but he's still not a fan of you being on your phone constantly and some of the video games and movies you consume. He's on the couch reading a paper and (affectionately) rolling his eyes as you and Vox take turns headshotting each other in a video game and hollering "hell yeah, suck my fucking dick!!"

Meanwhile Vox is just 200% chronically online and loving it until one day he asks you why you wear baggy clothes all the time and you're ever so casually replying "because my body is fucking icky, duh" and Vox has absolutely no idea what you're talking about until you break down on a tangent about it

I was watching a clip the other day where someone was pointing out that Marilyn Monroe was considered the 50s icon of beauty and there are plenty of photos with her with thick thighs or a visible belly pooch and, imagine Vox sitting there, the disbelieving 'are you joking?' smile falling off of his face as you just, go OFF, "why would I wear anything other than sweatpants? I have fucking CELLULITE VOX, I'll NEVER have leggings legs no matter how thin I am, and look at my hip dips, they're so fucking GROSS, and my butt isn't shaped right, I have banana rolls, and, do I have siren eyes or doe eyes?! Am I bunny cute or am I frog cute?! And look at how bad my facial balancing is! Ugh, where's my gua sha?! I'm so tired of being UGLY!!"

Later that week Alastor is looking up from his paper to see Vox just, slowly entering the room, sloooooowly shutting the door behind him, looking to his old friend, "so hey! Funny idea, stop me if you've heard this one before but, I was thinking we could uh, maybe take their phone away annnnnnnnnnd... not give it back?" and here's Alastor, "oh, funny story! So earlier today they asked me if I 'wouldn't like them anymore' if they got COSMETIC SURGERY, yeah, ON THEIR FACE BELIEVE IT OR NOT, so, naturally, I'm already one step ahead of you :)" as he just casually gestures to the smashed wifi router in the garbage can in the corner of the room

You just get home from work one day and Vox has his CRT head back on and you're told 'if you want to look something up online, you can use the desktop in the computer room, and only 3 hours of screen time' and it all but blasts you 15 years into the past 💀 no more nights where you're gaming for 5+ hours straight and ruining your sleep. No more skipping meals because you're hyperfocused and binge-watching an anime while also playing an idle game on your phone. No more Alastor and Vox finding out you're just smoking bowls for hours literally nonstop because you need some sort of extra stimulation while you doomscroll and watch 3 hour long roast reviews for shows you've never watched

Alastor catches you swiping through an app and you get a divisive video thrown in your face from some alpha dude bro podcast, "yeah, a real man knows how to protect his lady! She should be at home cooking and keeping the house clean, not running around like a tramp and doing dumb chick stuff! All women need to focus on is marriage and being good wives, you know, a TRADITIONAL relationship!" and Alastor is just, swiping that shit out of your hand, "he DOES have a bit of a point, repulsive as he is! I suppose I'll have to start looking at potential dwellings that can fit you, me, and, I SUPPOSE Vox too 🙄" and little do you know he's already got a cute little home in the 'burbs set up already. He's just... you know! Waiting for the right moment to let you and the annoying TV bastard know that you'll be moving! Maybe he'll just... wait until the day of! Nothing beats a fun surprise, right? ^^ he doesn't want either of you... trying to run away or anything after all haha!

#i actually have had an almost completelt finished vox fic w this conccept sitting in my drafts since like. February #yandere stuff #yandere hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hh #sinprompts

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emsgwenstan · 8 months

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The letter

FLUFF babes, wholesome happy ending kinda fic, but if u know me there’s always a dash of angst thrown in. LOVE CONFESSION!

Words: 1.5-2k

Warnings: non just anxiety.

———

You had to do it, it was killing you not to. There you were hands trembling smoothing down your hair and picking the invisible lint of your black v-neck’s long sleeves, your vision almost blurring due to the nerves. The piece of paper that lay on the dressers surface crumpled and worn already, every night you would reread your words over and over as if trying to memorise a script, it’s been a week since you had written the letter and the only thing to come of it was nightmares of how wrong this could go.

The plan of attack is to go find Larissa, preferably in her office confined in privacy and confess the two years of emotions to her, what will happen next is beyond you. Standing from the edge of your bed and stimming your hands as if to shake away the impending panic attack you pace to the mirror to straighten your silver necklace and fix any possible discrepancies with your simple make up.

Larissa and yourself had a great relationship, well friendship. You enrolled as an art and outcast history teacher two years ago and since then the dynamic between the two of you has been nothing short of amazing and domestic, you would go shopping in Burlington once a month and occasionally go out for dinner every Friday, as well as the random night caps that prolonged for longer then they should leading into the early hours of the morning on a school night.

Larissa had been adverse to opening up for the first six months or so, never really wanting to rely or put her trust into someone who could possibly hurt or cause harm to her feelings, understandably of course, the first personal conversation she really initiated was about previous experiences with friendships and or relationships, mortica and Marilyn being just examples. You though, seemed to understand her on a different level, having shared the same kind of difficulties, ranging from friends to past lovers and many otherwise distasteful people. She caught onto how understanding and empathetic your were, the fact that you listened and heard what she was trying to say, but not in the way other staff would listen, you didn’t show any kind of frightened emotion because of her authority, instead you saw her for her, you saw her as Larissa not principal Weems.

Finally with enough courage mustered, you snatch the letter and exit your quarters making the nerve wracking trek to her office. It’s about 6:30 when you leave, having had time to get changed and prepare after dinner and settle in the meantime. You shoved your phone in the back pocket of your navy jeans and keys in the tiny front pocket, the only sounds emanating within the stone halls are the steps of your flats and the deep inhale and exhales of breath.

Once you arrive the gold plaque with her name displayed, almost mockingly showed your reflection as if to say don’t do it, don’t fuck this. But you did it, you knocked. Larissa sat hunched over her desk and rested her elbows on the mahogany rubbing her temples to release the never ending headache when her door rang with three prominent knocks. “Come in?” Who the hell would be needing something from her no- oh. “Hey.” You said slipping through the doors and gently shutting it. “Oh y/n, how are you sweetheart?” She asked straightening up and closing her laptop.

“I’m ok…” you said quietly eyes flicking about the room as an awkward silence lingered in the air. Larissa was the first to speak again. “Is there something I can help you with?…Or?” She asked tiling her head to try catch your gaze. “Yes-no, I..I don’t know.” You stuttered. Her tense shoulders relaxed a little and her mouth involuntarily twitched into a hopefully helpful smile, even though she was confused. “Sorry I’m just…” you began with a sigh trailing to one of the seats in front of her desk and slumping into it whilst shaking your head. “It’s ok, take your time I’m all ears, you know that.” She spoke clasping her hands gracefully upon the wooden surface.

In the palm of your hand rested the yet again scrunched piece of paper, your thumbs rubbed at the corner of the page with a tremble. For the first time since entering the threshold you looked at her, properly, meeting her glittering cerulean eyes and sweet expression. She was breathtaking as always dressed in one of her finest matching cream coat and skirt suits and white silk blouse, her jewellery glistening to polished perfection and hair meticulously crafted, and to top it off the signature red lipstick you were oh so fond of.

“You look wonderful, are you off somewhere?” She asked in a smooth voice. “Hmm? Oh no.” You muttered letting the silence fall yet again. “I um…” deep breath. “I want to say something, but…I would like it if you could let me at least attempt to finish before you respond, if that’s ok.” You said gulping half way through your sentence. “That’s ok, if it’s something you’ve done I’m sure we can work through it, but I must admit your making me worried darling, you’re never this formal.” She confessed.

Abruptly standing, you turned you back to let your eyes close for a moment before continuing, putting a healthy distance between you both, you shakily unravel the paper and look to her. “You know better than anyone that I like to say and do things face to face right?” You asked as a prompt to actually stop procrastinating. “I do.” She confirmed. “And no matter the circumstances I try to face every single confronting situation.” You continue. “Of course, I try to encourage you to do so…” she trailed never taking her eyes off of you. “Ok.” You whisper.

One last look before the potential disaster you’re about to cause. “Dearest Larissa.” You began reading from the page pausing every couple of moments. “For the past two years… you have been my companion, confidant, wingwoman and best friend.” You say taking another breath. “You have listened, you have learned and tolerated much of me over this time… for that I will be infinitely grateful, just as I am for all the time we have spent together.” Your eyes flitted to her for a fraction of a second to see if she was following, she was, hanging off every word.

“Your trust and faith in me is my motivation to get up in the morning and try to succeed in the job you have generously handed to me, it also gives me a sense of pride that I am the one you choose to trust with your most inner thoughts and feelings, about people, about values, about whatever you wish to share, another thing I’m greatfull for.” You pause again to collect your bearings and hold it together. “You are kind, intelligent, sweet, beautiful and all round incredible in every sense of the word. You have a talent to command a crowd to your will and a gentleness that is rare to just the average person. I’ve never once been disappointed in who you are, not once, because it’s you and anyone who meets you in their lifetime should thank themselves lucky for having that privilege.”

Larissa sat wide eyed with her lips slightly parted in anticipation of hearing the rest. “I think I should finally own up to being the one who leaves the random flowers, sticky notes and occasional hot chocolate when you haven’t the time to get them yourself, not that you should have to, I apologise if it was too invasive and if you wish for me to stop I will do so, I believe that you deserve to have something to brighten up your day with something as simple as those, because you do.” You say starting to feel the tears prick in the corners of your eyes and hands unsteadily grasp the paper.

Resuming in a breaking voice. “On that note you deserve so much, someone’s hand to hold or shoulder to cry or collapse on, an unasked for embrace and a warm bed filled with tender care. You have no idea-.” You cut yourself of by sniffing and wiping the free falling droplets rolling down your cheeks. “No idea how much it pains me to know that you feel unseen, overlooked and unappreciated by others, but you have to know how much I see what you do, I see the sleepless nights behind your eyes and the insults scared on your heart.” You said holding back sobs.

“I know that you don’t-.” You bit your lip suppressing the pain just for a while longer. “That you don’t feel what I do… that my feelings are unrequited, but at this moment I wouldn’t want to spend my time doing anything else then making sure that you know.” Tilting the paper down and raising your eyes to meet hers you spoke again. “How loved you are, how much you are loved by me, and that you will always have someone who is proud of you for everything, and is interested in all the things you have to say.” You lifted to paper back to you frame of vision and read the last part of you letter.

“Because you Larissa are cherished and held in the most sacred part of my soul and have a home in my heart. I love you with every fibre of my being my sweet girl and I hope you don’t ever forget it… yours, y/n y/l/n.” The second you finished the tightnesses in your throat felt like your breathing constricted to only the most minuscule of air. Gasping for it you dropped to your knees and held onto your chest as if it would help in some way.

Larissa’s own tears fell as you pressed on, the second you fell to the floor she sprung into action by coming to your side, she knelt on the ground and placed a hand on your shoulder to signal her presence. You looked up at her and instantly reached for her face with one hand and the other still holding onto your chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Larissa, please, please, please don’t hate me I’m sorry, I ruined everything, I just- I…” you mumbled almost incoherently between gasps, and just like that when you truly saw her through stinging tears you yourself asked her if she was ok.

“Oh, no don’t cry! Please, no you’re ok, you’re ok.” You squeaked using your other hand to remove the mascara streaks down her porcelain skin. Larissa was stunned by the way you selflessly still even at this point managed to be more concerned about her then you own breakdown. Larissa had never in her life time experienced something like this, not a single person has ever expressed such concern and care towards her and she doesn’t know how to react. She knows that this isn’t the first time you have told someone you like them, but she also knows you have never told someone you love them, let alone that being her.

“I can go, I’ll- I’ll go and I’ll leave you be, ok? You can forget this ever happened alright?” You said sitting back on your thighs to reach the dropped letter, but Larissa stopped you by grasping your wrist and making you look at her. “Stop. Just stop… you’ll stay.” She said in a groggy tone. “But-.” “No.” She cut in. Coming back full force your body wreaked with more uncontrollable sobs. Larissa guided you into her arms and let you be broken just for a moment to release your pent up adrenaline. She held you and rocked you until you calmed and slowed with the pouring apology’s. Gently she tried to coax you out of your state by quietly shushing and running her palm over the crown of your head to the nape of your neck over and over.

Neither of you knew how long it was that you sat wrapped together, but when it felt right Larissa pulled back and cupped your face in her hand and peered into your swollen and puffy eyes. “Thank you.” She breathed. You stared back at her almost emotionless drained of any and all energy, you were confused as to why she chose to thank instead of ask you to leave in disgust. “I’m sorry that I did this.” You started. “But I’m not sorry that I fell in love with you.” You said picking at the skin around your nails. “Nor am I.” She replied. The crease in your brows deepened at her words.

Slowly Larissa lent her forehead against your own and breathed deeply. “What did I do to be graced with you?.” She whispered. “I’m the one who should be proud of you darling, you said it. You said what I’ve wished to say for a long time, and… I know that must have been very difficult to say, but I’m glad you did.” She said. Your eyes fluttered close to just enjoy this small moment. “Look at you comforting others with the words you wish to hear, y/n…” she retracted just a little. “You are the one who is loved by me. I’m just not as brave as you to say it, but I am now and I don’t know what this means, but I see how much love you have to give, I feel it when ever your around… you told me once you believe that you were only meant to give love and not receive it, but if you will let me, I want to give mine to you.” She smiled.

This isn’t how you pictured this to go, not in the slightest, but who could ever complain. You peered into her eyes so intensely to make sure there was no underlying malice or false intention, but you didn’t find an ounce. You took ahold of Larissa’s right hand and opened her fingertips to lay a palm on your chest. “Rissa…” you started, not being able to find the right words. “I know.” She said pulling her hand with yours on top and cupping your cheek, you leaned into her touch just to relish in her warmth. More tears fell down your cheeks burning from following the same tracks as previous ones. “I’m so tired.” You hummed. “I know.”

Larissa removed her heels tossing them aside before shifting herself to a grounding position on her knees. She held the back of your calves and wrapped them around her waist and moved your arms to brace around her neck. You caught on to what she was doing and almost resisted not wanting her to hurt herself by your weight, instead she leaned back putting one arm around your waist and one under your ass holding you to her as she stood. Larissa guided yourselves through to her quarters adjacent of her office and without letting you go she knelt on the bed and laid down without disturbing the position.

That bed, the same luxurious place the two of you shared so many memories in, watching movies, bickering, watching her remove her make up in the vanity’s reflection, the same place she perched her head in your lap to brush out her hair and loosely braid for her to sleep in. This was the place you knew you loved her, you saw Larissa for everything she was and only you have had the privilege of knowing who and what she really is.

Your head moved from the crook of her neck to the same pillow she occupied and breathed her in, you moved one of your arms to the little space between you and used you fingertip to trace over her face, her cheeks, nose, eyes and lips, Larissa felt peace, she felt whole like a missing part of her returned, she always felt that way when you were around, even the times she would walk past your classroom and though she couldn’t see you her stomach would erupt in butterflies knowing you were close.

“I love you y/n.” She whispered. Your gaze turned upward to her eyes and you smiled, a genuine smile that only she could bring to your face. “I love you more.” You replied. “Larissa?” You asked after a moment’s hesitation. “Mmm?” She hummed. “Would it be selfish of me to ask if I could kiss you…” you said hoping for a yes, but if she still has boundaries-. Larissa didn’t even respond, within two seconds of finishing your question she kissed you, gently but passionately, she swallowed every breath of yours and you hers.

After a while your limbs were together intertwined, soft breaths as well as shuddering ones from the after effects of crying and shy strokings from nimble fingers were what made the pain from many prior months seem to wither away. Larissa and yourself had moved off the bed to change into something to sleep in, she wouldn’t let you leave and for that you were happy because you didn’t want to.

You rested in her clothes in her bed under the sheets curled to her side as she rested against the headboard, eyes fluttering from exhaustion. Larissa played with your hair tracing the shell of your ear before reaching to her bedside table pulling out the small notebook from the draw, she rested it in her lap and opened it flipping through the first couple of pages and she began to read aloud.

“Tuesday 11th. Something wonderful happened today, something I didn’t think I was akin to anymore. It seems I have fallen into love with my best friend, I know history repeating itself, but this is far different to a teenage obsession, I love this woman, I love her far greater than anything else in this world, however I’m afraid she will never know. But I’ve waited this long to feel something like this again I’m ok with it staying like this, for now at least.” She said not stopping her ministrations the whole time of reading.

You looked up at her while she read with a twinkle in your eyes and a sleepy smile plastered to your face. Larissa tore out the page and rested it and the notebook on the table and told you to keep it if she can keep yours, she shuffled down and wrapped herself around you and together you both fell into a blissful sleep. This was the first night of many more to come, your last thought was finally, and hers was exactly the same.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie)#wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

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To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character: Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point.

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some.

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day.

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din.

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display.

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.”

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.”

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?”

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.”

She chuckles, “can be.”

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.”

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.”

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.”

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?”

“Well, he’s... called in.”

“Again?” You whine as you face her.

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs.

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?”

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.”

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?”

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking.

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time.

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful.

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best.

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill.

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting.

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte.

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask.

“Who?” She furrows her brow.

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.”

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?”

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?”

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.”

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.”

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.”

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.”

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth.

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.”

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not.

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him.

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him.

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone.

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch.

“How are you today?” You ask.

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.”

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.”

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit.

“Of course, I always do,” you smile.

“And last time?”

“Last time...”

“Twice.”

You’re confused. What is he talking about?

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--”

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely.

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around.

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.”

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #dark!raymond smith #drabble #series #to a tea #sweet and spicy #the gentlemen #au

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