#tom ryder x y/n

[pretty-little-mind33]

Colt Seavers x fem!reader

&

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: When Tom Ryder cockily asks Colt if he can share you with him, your boyfriend is initially disgusted. You? You're less disgusted—

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: it's a LONG one, threesome, p in v, unprotected sex (only in fiction where babies or STDs don't have to exist 💖☺️), oral sex (m receiving), Eiffel Tower? kinda, praise, slight spanking, degradation, good cop and bad cop dynamic, sweet and stupid pet names, daddy kink, Colt and Tom low-key high-key dislike each other in the beginning, polyamorous relationship implied in the end if you squint, FILTHY SMUT (i don't know what came over me i just can't get them both out of my head)

~ ✨ something for my ryan gosling and atj girlies ✨ ~

TOM RYDER MASTERLIST

Colt leans against the steps of Tom's trailer, his back against the door as he bandages his arm. He'd just been blown out of a building, thrown around, and now his entire body hurts.

The only good thing right now is that he sees you. 

"Colt," you say, running up to him, careful not to trip over the gravel, and as you sit next to him, you look him over, "you okay?" you whisper, your eyes round as you take in his appearance and touch his cheek. He smiles at you, looking completely love-sick as he tucks some hair behind your ear.

"Hi," he says, his voice soft.

You smile at him, "Hi," you lean in and kiss his lips. When you pull away, you run your hand in his hair. "You did so well in your scene. Did it hurt?" you ask him seriously. 

Colt shakes his head and with a pained chuckle, he lifts his arm and gives you a thumbs up. "It's the job, cupcake," he smiles and grunts when he moves his arm. You caress your hand down his cheek, your concern evident.

"I'm gonna find you some water," you say, determined, and jump up, smiling at him as you walk away. Colt's enamored gaze lingers on you for a moment until his peace is broken by Tom Ryder's presence. 

"Is that your girl?" he asks, emerging from his trailer dressed in only the pants of his costume and a towel wrapped around his shoulders as if he'd just done the most strenuous exercise of his life—which he hadn't because Tom Ryder doesn't do his own stunts.

Tom whistles and brings the straw of his juice box into his mouth. He says, "How'd you secure a girl like that, Colt? She's way too hot for someone like you." 

"Charming as always, Tom," Colt groans and stares up at his coworker, "Don't you have anything better to do than creep around? Go sign some posters or something. Learn your lines, I dunno, just stop bothering me or my girl."

Tom chuckles. "You're the one leaning against my trailer looking like a broken-down rat."

"And whose fault is that?" Colt hisses. He stands and rotates his shoulder around.

"Take it up with Gail! 'M not in charge of those things." Tom raises his hand in defense, and then his small smile turns into a smirk.

 "But, we're friends, hm, Colt?" 

Colt glares at him, his tone deadpanned. "Sure, Tom. We're friends," he says sarcastically.

"And friends share, don't they?" Tom leans against his trailer and crosses his arms, a dangerously arrogant gaze in his eyes. "You wouldn't mind sharing your girl, would you? She's cute."

Colt's frown deepens and he hears you walk back to him. He narrows his eyes and points at Tom menacingly. "In your fucking dreams," he says and then turns to you as you hand him the glass of water you'd found.

He thanks you and then his smile vanishes when he sees you look up at Tom, your gaze on his toned abs. Tom seems over the moon that you're staring. 

"Hi, doll," he says, sounding cocky.  

"Hi," you answer him, clearly flustered that you're speaking with the Tom Ryder and Tom clearly knows this. He opens his mouth to answer you but Colt isn't having any of this. Your boyfriend hooks his arm around your shoulders and guides you away from Tom. 

"That's enough movie stars, sweetness, let's go home," he whispers in your ear. 

"Think about what I said, will you, Colt," Tom calls out, his tone light and you feel your boyfriend's hand tighten around your shoulder instinctively.

In Colt's truck, he's quiet as he grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. He doesn't even ask if you want to do donuts, which is uncommon for him. 

"Are you okay?" you ask him, moving to the center and putting your hand on his thigh. "Is it because of what Tom Ryder said? What did he mean?" 

Colt's jaw clenches and he dismisses your concern. "Don't worry about it, cupcake," he says but you do worry. 

"I am worrying. Please tell me," you say, in a tone you know Colt can usually never resist. Only this time, he does. 

"No."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Well, now I'm thinking of the worst possible scenario."

"It is the worst possible scenario."

"What is?"

"Tom Ryder getting his filthy hands on you—wait," Colt's head snaps to you, his eyes round, realizing what you just did and you crack a remorseful smile. 

"Why would Tom Ryder get his hands on me, Colt?" you whisper, ignoring how your mind plays every possible scenario of Tom Ryder having you in your head and you don't hate them. 

Colt lets out a sigh and rubs his eyes. "He just said some stupid stuff—as usual," he pauses for a moment, "He asked if I could share you with him."

You stare at Colt, confused. "What?"

Colt senses your confusion and puts a hand on your thigh. "It was an awful thing to say, don't worry about him. I told him no, of course."

You blink at him, taking in what he'd just told you. Tom Ryder wanted you? He'd asked Colt to share you. You know you shouldn't, but you feel flattered. The Tom Ryder had the nerve to ask your boyfriend to have you?! Did Tom desire you that much?

"Oh," you say, your voice fading at the end, because what else could you say? 

Colt turns his head back at the road, but he gives you a side-eye. "Oh?" His voice sounds tense. 

You snap out of your daze and immediately shake your hands in the air. "I mean, oh–as in–gross. I'm not interested or anything! I only want you! Why would he even ask that, he's such a creep!" you say, meaning it. 

Colt's shoulders untense a moment and he sighs. "Yeah, I know baby," he says, "I trust you—it's just a weird thing to imagine, y'know?" 

You nod but your mind wanders to the image in question and you feel warm. 

"Yeah, but you don't have to worry! I don't want Tom Ryder. He's a dick," you say. It's true. Tom Ryder is a dick and you would never even think of cheating on Colt.

Colt Seavers is lovely and he treats you well and you mean every word you've said to him—you love him.

But Tom Ryder is still Tom Ryder. 

* * *

Over the next weeks or so, you visit Colt more often than usual. You don't even realize you're doing it but you start putting more attention into your outfits, your hair, and your makeup. Of course, while you don't seek out interactions with Tom Ryder, they do tend to happen more frequently. 

Colt seems to notice this too and his blood runs cold when he sees Tom wink at you as he leans over you to grab a prop from behind you.

It isn't Tom's wink that annoys him as much as it is the way you look at Tom. Colt feels like someone just punched him directly in the stomach and it makes him feel so stupid.  

He needs to talk to you.

On his way over, Tom walks by him and smirks at him. "She's even cuter when she's trying to be," he taunts and Colt restrains himself from socking him.

"Y/n." Colt's hand skims your arm when he approaches you and you turn to him, smiling so innocently he almost feels ashamed. "Hi, baby," he whispers, his voice soothing as he pulls you into him and kisses your forehead. You wrap your arm around his torso and kiss his nose. 

"Hi, Colt," you say happily, "I saw your stunt. It was absolutely amazing!"

Your boyfriend smiles and he hears the sincerity in your voice. He caresses a hand down your cheek and his tone is kind when he says, "I need to talk to you." 

Your smile disappears. "Is everything okay?" 

Colt takes your hand and leads you further from the crowd of crew members around you and his thumb strokes across your palm. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine I've just noticed you've been slightly distracted lately." 

You tilt your head. "Distracted?" 

He nods. "Yeah. Distracted. With Tom." His eyes drift to your exposed thigh. 

Your stomach drops and you make a face. You look confused and Colt can almost see the wheels turning in your head. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice a little shaky as you pull down your skirt to cover more of your thigh subconsciously. 

"Do you remember when I said Tom wanted me to share you with him?" Colt asks bluntly and he sees your eyes widen in realization. 

"N-no," you lie. 

Colt frowns. "Liar," he says calmly and crosses his arms. He sees your hurt expression and his eyes soften. "Okay, listen, baby, I just want you to be honest with me. If you're suddenly all attracted to Tom Ryder, I think I deserve to know because I love you, and if y-you want to explore something with someone like Ryder—"

You panic and cut him off, holding onto his arms. "Colt, I don't want anyone else. I love you," you say, your hands moving up his arms so you can cup his cheeks and you kiss him.

You pull away and bite your lip, deciding to be honest with him because you can't deny what you're doing anymore. "But," you pause and Colt's blue eyes bounce from your features with panic. 

"But, I- I am slightly—turned on by the idea of um—Tom."

Colt sees the embarrassment on your face after you say this and his breathing picks up. At first, he doesn't quite know what to do about this information. He stares at you and when he sees you squirm under his gaze, he takes your hand in his. 

"Thank you for being honest with me," he whispers and then pauses, contemplating what to say next. "So, what do we do from here, baby? I-Is um—sharing—something you would really want to try?" 

You nod, looking up at him with wide eyes. "But, only if you're comfortable, Colt. It can stay a fantasy otherwise. I promise." 

Fantasy. 

That word hits him hard. So this is something you really want, something you've actually spent time thinking about—something you've fantasized about.

The thought alone makes Colt's cheeks turn pink as blood rushes to his dick. He sighs and brings his hand up to your cheek again. 

"I don't want to deprive you of want you want, especially if the third party is so fucking willing," he mentions Tom with a slight spike in his tone but bites his tongue, "but I don't know if I can handle watching you be with him. Of him having you completely. I don't know if I can deal with that asshole getting to have you like that," he says honestly. 

You nod. "I understand," you say. 

Colt lets out another sigh and twirls some of your hair in his fingers. "But, I suppose we could find a compromise. On my terms, not his." He sees the look in your eye shift from slight disappointment to excitement as you imagine the possibilities. Colt's chest burns and he can't deny his temptation at the thought.

He's so fucked. 

* * * 

Tom Ryder's bedroom is dimly lit and there is a faint smell of cologne and aftershave in the air as steam comes from his bathroom. 

You're sitting on his King bed, the satin sheets feel soft under your fingers and against the exposed skin of your bare thighs. Colt stands in front of you, his arms crossed and his expression hard as he watches Tom come out of the bathroom. 

Tom's wearing a blue and white robe with nothing but a pair of blue slacks, his toned abs on full display. His curly blond hair sprawled messily across his forehead and he smirks at you. Then, his eyes shift to Colt. "Loosen up there, man. You're making me nervous. Sit," he says and points to a modern-looking armchair in the corner. 

"Don't tell me what to do," Colt snaps back and Tom raises his hand in mock surrender. You look between them, moving your hands to rest between your knees as you hold your breath. 

Colt stares at Tom, his jaw clenched. "Okay, Y/n and I discussed some rules beforehand," he says and he doesn't like the way​ Tom rolls his eyes but he doesn't address it. "If you don't follow them, it just gives me a reason to beat your ass, capeesh?" 

"Yeah, yeah," Tom nods and sits on the bed next to you, not touching you yet but your skin prickles at the closeness anyway. "Get on with it then." 

"Firstly, I don't want to see a single bruise or mark on her," he says sternly, "she's not yours to mark. Secondly, her safe word is red and if she says it, you stop immediately no ifs or buts, and lastly, you can do whatever foreplay you want but no fucking." 

Tom frowns, narrowing his eyes. "Excuse me?" 

"No. Fucking. Her," Colt says again. 

You listen to them, feeling like your entire body is on fire as you try and ignore how soaked your panties already are.

The feeling only worsens when Tom turns to you and asks, "Is that right? You don't want me to fuck you, sweetie?" His voice sounds like velvet and you squirm under his gaze.

"Hey," Colt snaps his fingers and Tom turns to look at him again, "Do not speak to her yet, you fucking dick." 

"Fuck, alright, no need to get your panties in a twist, man," Tom grumbles and runs a hand in his hair. "I understand, okay? No fucking the pretty girl. Can we just do this? I'm getting fucking blue balls over here." He adjusts his pants and you can't help the way your eyes drift to the outline of his dick. 

He's already hard. 

"You okay, baby?" Colt asks you, his voice much softer now, "You still wanna do this, yeah?" 

You nod. 

Colt waits for a verbal reply. 

"Yes, I still want to do this," you say, looking between Tom and Colt, your cheeks burning. Tom smirks at this and his attention turns to you, his blue eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. 

"You're so sweet," he murmurs as he leans in, his lips attaching to the skin behind your ear. You gasp, feeling his hands around your waist as the fabric of your skirt accidentally bunches up a little. Colt inhales, hesitating but ultimately relenting as he sits on the armchair and his gaze fixes on you and Tom. 

You make a small little squeak as Tom lifts you up and gently tosses you further up onto his bed, the soft mattress bouncing as you hit the multiple pillows Tom keeps on his bed. In seconds, his knee slots between your thighs as he hovers over you, and his lips find your neck, gently kissing your skin.

Your hands find the sleeves of his robe instinctively, accidentally pulling them down in your haze as you arch into him, the feeling of his lips overwhelming you. 

Tom chuckles when he feels the rob slide down his shoulders and he hums into your neck, "Eager little thing, aren't you?" he says as the robe falls down until he's now completely shirtless. 

Colt feels his stomach tighten as his hands clamp around the armchair. The sound of your pretty moans—the ones you used to make only for him fill the room and it takes everything in him not to rip the velvet armrest of Tom's stupid chair. 

Tom's lips trail down your neck, his hand coming up your arm as he hooks his finger in one of the straps of your tank top, pulling it down your shoulder. You moan, arching into him again as his other hand finds your thigh and he positions your leg around him, his hips lowering to grind into yours.    

Your skirt is now bunched around your waist, your wet panties very visible to anyone who looks—and both Tom and Colt are definitely looking. 

"So fucking pretty," Tom groans, stroking your thigh as he moves to hover his mouth over yours, "Such a good girl," he says and then his lips crash into yours, kissing you passionately. 

Colt feels hot and cold at the same time as he shifts in his seat. He wants to stop this, to tell Tom to get the fuck off of you, and to stop kissing you. You're his. His heart skips when he hears your small little whimper and he sees your eyes watching him from behind Tom's shoulder.

Instantly, he recognizes the look of arousal on your face, and something inside him shifts. He can't help the way his dick twitches in his jeans. 

You moan into Tom's mouth, feeling his other hand now lower the second strap of your shirt until it's also bunched at your waist. Tom disconnects your lips just to see you in your bra and he licks his lips. You stare up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly as your body tingles all over and your pussy aches for him. 

Tom unhooks your leg from his body and then effortlessly shifts you so that you're straddling his lap. His muscles flex as he holds your waist and unhooks your bra. As soon as your breasts are revealed, Tom's mouth finds your nipples as he sucks. You gasp and wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into him as your cheeks press against his head, his soft curls caressing your skin. 

"Tom," you whimper, feeling like you're in heaven as he makes you feel good. "Tom," you whine.

Tom squeezes your ass, disconnecting his mouth from your hardened nipples and he looks up at you through his lashes."Mm, I love it when you say my name, sweetheart," he moans and kisses between your breasts, "Say it again. Louder. I want him to hear you say it."

Colt hadn't even realized he's started to palm himself through his jeans until Tom's voice jolts him and he frowns when he hears you again. 

"Tom!" you groan, chanting his name like a prayer, "Tom, Tom, Tom," you plead, tears brimming in your eyes as the entire sensation overwhelms you. "Please," you whimper. 

"Please?" Tom taunts, his hand finding your hair as he pulls on the strands so you can look down into his eyes. He sees how lidded your eyelids are and how blissed out you look and his chest swells with pride, "Fuck, you're such a slut." 

Colt's jaw clenches at the degrading name but he doesn't move, his hand only working harder on his dick. 

You whine, "Tom, please, please, please," you beg, "I need you." 

"Hear that, Colt? Your girl wants me—no sorry, she needs me," he taunts and then shifts you again, his hand still in your hair.

You squeal, his movement causing you to lift from his lap and shift to your knees as Tom does the same. He presses your back against his chest, holding you so you're looking at your boyfriend and then his other hand grips your jaw. 

"Tell him how good I'm making you feel," he whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe. 

Colt sits up, staring at you as his hand still moves over his dick. Fuck. He sees Tom's hold on you and while he's slightly worried, he also trusts that you'd use your safe word if he was hurting you. 

Plus, he can see how much you like this from the expression you're wearing. "H-he's making me feel s-so good," you whimper in a small voice, looking at Colt with teary eyes. 

Tom laughs and then he lifts your hips, sliding down your dress and tank top so you're only in your panties. You groan, suddenly feeling Tom's hand press on your back. You whimper as you bend down, your ass pressed right to his crotch.

Tom moves his hand from your back to your hair again, pressing you into the mattress as his thumb soothes circles on your scalp. You can see Colt from the position you're in, your eyes lidded as you feel Tom's other thumb trace over your panties. 

"Shit, man, she's so fucking wet," he chuckles, looking at Colt directly as he taunts him, "So fucking needy all for me." 

Colt lets out a groan, wanting to unbuckle his jeans and make his own ache go away. 

You whine as Tom presses his fingers against you, teasing you with his thumb as he presses you further into the sheets, muffling your sounds. He slaps your ass before resuming his movements. "Be still," he reprimands, slapping your ass again as he presses one of his fingers into you. 

You cry, feeling so good as you look at Colt. Tom's fully fingering you now, his thumb adding pressure to your clit as he pumps his finger in and out. 

"Colt," you whimper, watching your boyfriend as he rubs himself over his jeans. You can tell he's aroused to the point where it must be painful and you desperately want to please him. You whine again as Tom continues his movements, his other hand gripping your ass. "Colt, come here, please," you manage to say between your breathy whimpers and you sense Tom hesitate at your words, a little confused. 

Colt stands, his eyes blown wide with lust as he walks over to you and looks down at you, your hair spilling over the bed as you look up at him. Tom has slowed down his movements, which makes you whimper and Colt strokes a hand in your hair. He looks at Tom. "Don't stop making her feel good," he demands sternly.

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?" Tom grunts, staring daggers at Colt now as he completely pauses all movement, "Get the fuck off. You said she was mine for tonight," he sounds almost whiny and Colt rolls his eyes. 

"I never said she was yours," Colt corrects him, "you can always fucking leave." 

"You're at my house!" 

"Please," your voice cuts into their arguing, your eyes still teary as you try and push back against Tom's fingers. You can barely form coherent sentences. "Colt, T-Tom, please," you whimper, needing them to do something. 

They fall silent and look at each other, hatred still simmering underneath but in the end, they both decide you're more important.

Tom grunts and he continues to finger you as he strokes a hand over your back. "Yeah, yeah, no need to beg me, sweetie," he says, his voice unusually soft. He pulls out his fingers and then goes to pull down his pants. 

"Woah," Colt says and Tom sends him a glare. 

"Relax," Tom says as he pumps his cock a few times, positioning his dick over your panties and sliding it up and down. "Daddy needs to feel good too," he grunts and you gasp, loving the new feeling as wetness slides down your thigh.

Colt stares at Tom like he's gone insane but his thoughts quickly drift to you when he hears your small whimpers. He looks down, his thumb still stroking in your hair. You look so pretty like this, all at his mercy. He slides his hand down to hook his thumb in your mouth. 

"Wanna make me feel good, baby?" he asks, his voice smooth. ‘

You nod, looking up at him with anticipation as he pulls out his thumb with a pop. He goes to unbuckle his jeans, looking at you with a smile as he sees your mouth open automatically as he prepares himself for you. 

Colt brings the tip to your lips, asking for entrance and you part your lips. You feel him grip his hand in your hair, encouraging you. "My good girl," he whispers as you hollow your cheeks around him, taking him in. You try your best not to be distracted by the feeling of Tom's cock against your pussy as you focus on pleasing Colt. 

You whine around Colt when Tom slaps your ass, "Dirty fucking slut," he grunts. 

Colt snaps his hips into yours, fully fucking into your face now and watching how drool pools at the corner of your mouth. He likes the sounds you're making for him. His cock drags across your tongue and you can taste his pre-cum. You whimper when Tom picks up the pace behind you, holding onto your hips for support. 

Colt pulls out of your mouth just in time to hear your pleas. "Please–I-I want him to fuck me," you whimper, your voice strained from just having his dick in your mouth. "I wanna be fucked, please, please, Colt." Tears spill from your eyes. 

Tom chuckles from behind you, his hand gripping your hips harder, and before he can make any snarky remark, Colt snaps, "Shut up," and then holds your chin. 

"You wanna be fucked, baby? Alright. Tom, switch with me."

For once, Tom doesn't protest Colt's demand. 

He's just happy that he can put his dick into something now. 

You feel them move around but you don't look up, your breathing harshening as you prepare for what's coming. You feelColt's familiar hands on your waist as he hooks his thumb in your panties and pulls them down. You gasp as his dick teases your pussy and Colt leans over, pressing a reassuring kiss to your shoulder blade as he praises, "You're doing so well my baby," he praises as he moves forwards and you groan, clutching the sheets. 

You're so lost in the pleasure Colt's providing that when Tom's hand holds onto your chin, his dick bobbing near your mouth, your eyes widen in surprise. You look up at him, sticking out your tongue for him and Tom smirks as places his dick in your mouth, immediately using you. 

The feeling of Colt's dick dragging in and out of your walls is tortuous but oh-so-good. Every thrust of his hips sends you further into Tom's cock and you gag, feeling so degraded and used but in the best way. 

Colt's soft praises as he fucks you mix with Tom's lewd comments as he fucks your mouth hard. If this is heaven, you never want to leave. 

After a while, you start to feel slightly lightheaded because of Tom's dick clogging your airflow. You've already come twice around Colt's dick and your pussy is feeling so overwhelmed. You hear Colt groan in the way he does when he'sclose and you clench around him, wanting to make him feel as good as you feel. 

When he finally comes, you moan too, and feel him spill inside you. At the same time, you reach for Tom's thighs and tap them, telling him to pull out. When he does, you gasp for breath.

Tom wipes his thumb across your lips, wiping the drool, and then he smirks. "I know you said no fucking, but c'mon," he says, his voice low and hoarse. "I want a piece of her too." 

Colt grunts and shakes his head, riding out his high inside you. "Fuck off, Ryder."

You moan, your body rocking back and forth from Colt's thrusts. 

"One fuck won't kill you," Tom hisses, holding your chin, "Sweetheart, you want me to fuck you, don't you?" he asks you, looking into your eyes. 

You can't help but nod, "Y-yes," you whimper, "Please," you whine, needing this. 

Colt senses the desperation in your voice and he can't exactly blame you. You must be so overwhelmed with pleasure. He strokes your neck and then pulls out. You whine at the loss. "You want him to fuck you?" he repeats, his voice strained. 

"Yes, yes, please, I need him too. Colt, please," you say, desperately. "I wanna feel him too." 

Colt knows he can't deny you anything as he nods and Tom's smug smile returns. You feel like you're stuck in a hazy cloud of pleasure as your body is manipulated. Your eyelids flutter and the next thing you feel is Tom's hard cock against your pussy as you feel yourself being lowered onto his lap. 

You whimper, falling forwards onto Tom's chest as you make small breathy sounds and his cock stretches you open even more. 

"Be gentle with her," Colt warns him, his voice slightly tense, "She's tired." 

Tom holds in a grunt, his cock twitching inside you as he fully sits you down onto his cock and then lifts you again, repeating the movement.

He presses his lips to your ear. "Just sit there like a good whore for me, okay? Daddy'll do all the work for you," he murmurs, his voice hoarse and it sends a shiver down your spine. You nod, resting your cheek against his chest and you can hear his heartbeat as he fucks up into you. 

"Good girl," he soothes, his large hand over your hair as his pace picks up. "Making me feel so fucking good."

Your legs tremble, letting out pants and whine as the core aches. It doesn't take very long for you to come around Tom's cock, your third orgasm of the night, your body feeling warm and limp as you finish. You aren't even sure how Tom still has the strength or the energy to continue moving you up and down as his hands grip your hips. He shifts you so his lips press against your ear, his grunts overwhelming your senses. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Colt asks from somewhere but you can't seem to pinpoint where, as you're too exhausted to think and your mind turns completely blank. 

Tom continues to drag you up and down his cock, his voice mocking in your ear. "We really fucked you dumb, didn't we?" he chuckles, groaning. "Shit, I'm gonna come," he bites down on your earlobe and calls you his slut as he spills himself inside you. You feel so full and dirty as his cum mixes with yours and Colt's. 

Your eyes roll and all your muscles relax. You slump forward even more, hitting your nose in the crook of his neck and making a whining sound. Tom holds you up, his touch uncharacterized gentle as his thumb strokes your cheek. He shifts you off of him, careful with you as your head hits the soft pillows. Your eyelids flutter, your chest heaving as you hear the mumbling of voices and feel the bed dip from around you. 

"She's okay, yeah?" you think it's Tom and you feel someone's fingertips on your skin. 

Another dip in the mattress. 

"Yeah, I think," Colt whispers, his voice soft and calm as he soothes you. "You're okay," he whispers and his voice eventually lulls you to sleep as the world around you turns dark. 

When you wake up again, you're tucked under the warm covers, your cheek pressed into silk pillows. You stir, blinking, and then shift onto your back. You feel clean—like someone had wiped away the cum and taken a warm cloth to your sensitive skin. You sit up halfway and look around Tom Ryder's dimly lit room and then you look down and realize you'rewearing one of Tom's shirts. 

You can hear low voices from the balcony of Tom's room and see Tom and Colt having what looks like an oddly friendly smoke for two men who seemingly hate each other. 

Tom's wearing his robe again, his blond curls still messily sprawled across his forehead, as a cigarette hangs between his lips and he lights it up.

Your boyfriend seems relaxed as he leans his forearms on the balcony and looks out into the cool night. He shifts his head and smiles like he does just after he'slaughed and you wonder what Tom had said.

"Colt?" you call out, your voice small, and immediately, both men walk back into the room—Tom's cigarette discarded on an ashtray on his balcony. 

"Hello, cupcake," Colt whispers as he stands beside you. When he sees you sitting up fully, he tuts and pushes you down a little as the mattress dips and his thigh touches yours. "Shh, how are you feeling?"

You look between them and sense no tension or arrogance from Tom as he stands at the end of the bed, a small smile curling his lips. He moves closer and sits on the other side of you, his tone light when he says, "You did so well for us." 

Colt nods, agreeing with Tom for once, and his hand finds your hair. "So well. You had fun yeah, pretty girl?"

You nod, looking between them once more as you look flustered. "Y-yeah," you admit. "It was really good."

Tom's smile widens and he sniffs. "Good," he turns to Colt, "Told ya she'd like it, man." 

You expect your boyfriend to be upset by Tom's quip, but instead, he chuckles and his thumb moves to stroke your cheek.

"Mhm, I suppose you were right, Ryder," Colt whispers and you feel like you've woken up in some alternative universe where Colt and Tom are now friends.

You wonder what they'd spoken about while you slept but whatever it was, they're on way better terms than they had ever been. Tom's much nicer to Colt on set—which isn't much but it's good because whenever you visit, he'll sometimes join you for lunch. As time goes on, you kind of feel like when Tom and Colt are around you, you have two boyfriends. 

And you can't say you dislike that. 

[lost-pen-name]

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: You were about to leave Tom’s suite when a heavy rainstorm started. Not wanting to risk trying to drive in such poor conditions, you grabbed your stuff from your car, returned back to his door, and asked if you could stay the night. He, begrudgingly, obliged and allowed you to stay in the guest bedroom.

Genre: Fluff, cuddling, comfort

Word count: 2176

Warnings: none

{ you came? you called. }

You were sitting alone in bed, trembling like a leaf, when the power went out in Tom Ryder’s house.

The light flickered for a moment before going out completely, along with the rest of all things electrical. The house was unsettlingly quiet and felt off without the hum of the fridge or air conditioner.

Lightning crackled outside. You pushed yourself a bit out of bed, debating on the idea to go look for Tom, just so you wouldn’t have to be alone. But that would mean leaving the safety of your room.

“Tom?” you called out instead. You looked back at the large window across the bedroom. Even with the curtains drawn, light flashed across the room sporadically.

Farther across the house, you swore you could hear someone moving around. Your heart pounded and you waited, holding your breath, hoping it was Tom coming to check on you. You just needed to know another human existed right now.

There was a THUD and a curse that came after. It sounded like it came from farther down the hall.

A second later you heard an “Oi, what happened?” That familiar voice came from your doorway and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You breathed a sigh of relief and swiped at an unshed tear. You prayed your voice won’t have too much desperation in it. “You came.”

“What? Of course I did. A woman screams my name out in the middle of the freaking night, I’d be crazy not to come.” He sounds agitated and tired but you don’t care, you’re just clinging to the fact that there’s someone here now. “Why’d you call for me? I hope you know I almost died on the way over here. The power’s out, I can’t see a bloody thing.”

Lightning lit up the room and you caught a glance at Tom Ryder standing in the doorway, wearing only a pair of loose fitting sweatpants. A series of thunderclaps shot an arrow of anxiety through the bubble of thought of how gorgeous he looked even at 1am.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe deeply. “I... I didn’t want to be alone. Not with this storm raging outside.” You gestured towards the window just as thunder booms again.

You heard him sigh. “What am I supposed to do, crawl into bed with you?”

The idea of having someone close to you overpowers all the reason in your brain screaming at you that this wasn’t good for your business relationship. The fear of being alone in this storm trumped all rational thoughts.

“Could you? Even just for a bit?” you said.

There’s a moment of silence before you hear his footsteps and he’s at the side of your bed. You look up at him and gulp. Maybe this was a dumb thing to ask.

“Fine. But give me some blanket.” Without another word, he’s on the bed, crawling into the covers. His bare feet touched yours for a brief moment before you quickly moved your body far away that side of the bed.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care. You watched him as he shifted around, getting the pillow right for him, the blanket pulled a bit over to his side before he relaxed and breathed heavily.

You can feel your heart hitting against your chest painfully and you don’t know if that’s now entirely because of the storm or if it had anything to do with sharing a bed with Tom.

He breaks the silence. “I called Gail, asked her what the whole situation is about the power and all that.” You see him wave his hands around as he talks. “She said it’ll take a few hours, maybe even ‘til morning before we get any power back. So, we’re in it for the long run.”

That was longer than you had hoped but you guessed you should’ve expected it to take that long. “Okay,” is all you can manage to get out through your tight throat.

You both grow quiet again. The awkwardness of this all keeps hitting you so you break the silence. You twisted your head to look at him. “Sorry, I know this is kind of weird.”

“Yeah, well,” he said dryly, “it’s mainly weird because I didn’t need to know how many stuffies my employee has. How old are you again?”

You’re dumbfounded. He’s choosing now to judge you? And for what, bringing in the small stuffie collection you had in your car? That was so like him. It was oddly both reassuring to have the normalcy and frustrating. “You’re such a jerk, Tom Ryder,” you said.

Quiet. Then an indignant harrumph. The blankets shifted and you felt the mattress dip as he pushed himself off. “Well, fine, if that’s how you’re going to treat me.”

You rolled over to his side of the bed, trying to ignore how nice and warm it was. “Wait!” You grabbed his hand before he went too far. “Tom, wait, please don’t go.”

He peered over his shoulder at you. “Make me.”

Your heart sank a bit. There he goes again, always with the attitude. “Well, you’re kinda proving my point here,” you whispered under your breath.

“What was that?” He turned fully around and squinted down at you.

Goodness gracious, he kinda does look glorious standing there, his bare chest making it hard to formulate sentences, his usual strategically tousled hair ruffled and unkempt. And he doesn’t seem to notice you’re still gripping onto his hand, not that you mind. It’s hot and rougher than you expected from a privileged celebrity.

Thunder claps interrupt your ogling and a nervous ripple hits you. The anxiety might’ve left for a bit but the thought of Tom leaving you alone again with the storm sends all of the worry back into you.

“I didn’t actually mean that, you know that. I was joking around,” you said. Your free hand clutches at the covers.

“I come in here and, and, what? I’m being incredibly nice to you and you insult me as a joke?” His tone carried a bit of a whine to it.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You inhale and exhale with a quiet and quick, “pleasedon’tgo.”

His frown softened and he glanced down at our hands entwined. Lightning danced across the room for a moment, lighting up the room enough for you to spy the smallest smile from him.

You gaped at him. What did you say that earned you a gentle smile from THE Tom Ryder?

Before you can think about it too much, he sighed and leaned down to get back into bed. “Hey, scoot over.”

You let go of his hand and moved back over to your side of the bed.

He fell into the covers and put his arms behind his head, cushioning his head on them. He sighed again. “You absolutely should be grateful, you know.”

“I am,” you whispered.

Thunder booms, closer than any of the other times and you winced. Your breathing is becoming too fast, too irregular.

Tom turned on his side, angling his body to face you. “You’re really scared of storms then?” His usual condescending tone is gone. It’s replaced with something softer.

You nodded, even though he probably can’t see it in the dark, and pulled the covers up to your chin. “Ever since I was a little kid.”

He made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Do you know why?”

“No. I just get anxious whenever there’s a storm. I can never go to sleep when there’s one happening.” You closed your eyes and put a hand on your chest, trying, willing yourself to just breathe normally.

A huge series of thunder crashes outside and the house shudders, breaking off any thoughts you had. Your body reacted in an almost fight or flight instinct. Without even stopping to think, you slid further into bed and towards Tom, pressing your body against his, your face and his pecs aligned. Your hand wrapped around his arm and you squeezed your eyes closed, praying that the noise will come an end. It sounds like the grand finale of the thunderstorm, like the storm is proud of this last act and wants to show to the world just as loud and powerful it can be. The heat coming from Tom’s body and the solidness of him is the only thing tethering you and keeping you from going too far over the edge.

Finally, it’s quiet. You panted and opened your eyes. His flesh is the only thing in your vision. Your eyes focused on a freckle on his chest and there’s a small part of you that has the urge to kiss it. A blush creeped up with your neck. You realized your nails are digging into his arm and you snatched your hands away.

You can not believe you just freaked out and clung to your boss. In bed. This had to be against so many employer-employee work ethics. If this doesn’t get you fired, you don’t know what will.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, sitting up and starting to push yourself back away from him.

His hand shot out and stopped in your tracks. “No,” he said thickly.

Just... “no?” You have no clue what that meant. He’s probably angry at you now or thinks you’re even more childish, reacting like a baby koala clinging to her mother just because of some storm. With a sinking feeling, you overcome your fear of whatever you might see on his face when you look at him and glanced over at him.

Even in the dark, you can tell his expression is the most serious you’ve ever seen in the months you’ve worked under him.

That was not what you were expecting.

“What did you do about these storms when I wasn’t here?” His voice is low, almost stern.

You pushed your hair back awkwardly. “I don’t know, wait it out? Hide under my covers? When my sister stays at my place sometimes, she’ll calm me down.”

“And how does she do that?”

You swallowed hard. What is he thinking? What is he planning to do with this information? “She holds me until it’s long over.”

Tom’s hand tightened a bit at that. You looked down at it on your arm, you had almost forgotten it was there.

“Well.” He sniffed loudly. “Come here then.” He let go of you and opened his arms, like he’s welcoming you to a hug. The most muscle toned and chiseled hug ever.

Your heart pounded. “You really don’t have to do that, you’ve done more than enough. And the storm sounds like it’s almost over.”

“If your sister does it until the storm is completely over, then I’m going to do it better and do it all night.” He waved a hand in exasperation. “I’ll feel like a heroic knight saving a princess. So stop being stubborn and come here.”

His words are said so easily but the weight of them hits you like a brick. Sure, he always likes being better than everyone and doesn’t like being beaten at anything.

But this was excessive, even for him.

And somehow, in a weird way, it was sweet.

Not knowing what else to do but listen to him, you awkwardly scoot closer to him. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you in, forcing your body to be pressed against his and closing whatever distance you had. Now your head is next to his pecs again, his strong arms around you, cocooning you in. His skin is warm and you can faintly hear his heartbeat. It’s a steady pulse, its gentle rhythm is calming to you. You can feel his chest as he inhales and exhales and you start to match his breathing.

The world has calmed. You feel calm. And safe, surprisingly. Safe and secure with the world’s hottest superstar but to you, a flawed man you’re slowly beginning to realize you enjoy spending time with. Maybe you’re starting to like him, not just tolerate him.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said quietly as you stared up at the ceiling.

He shifted slightly and you feel his sigh ruffle your hair. “Mhmm.” It’s just a sound but it sounded like an audible shrug, like he didn’t think you meant it.

You smiled softly and closed your eyes. “No, really. This is helping. So thank you.”

His chin nestled in your hair as he got comfortable. “Whatever, I’m glad to help.”

Did he sound embarrassed? You grinned bigger. “You’re the best boss ever. You’re like... my hero, my knight in shining sweatpants.”

He groaned. “Now you’re laying it a touch too thick. Be quiet now, I’m trying to sleep.”

You covered your mouth with your hand and laughed quietly. “Okay, okay, goodnight, Tom.”

He murmured a goodnight and pulled you in further, his legs wrapped around yours, practically hugging you like you’re a body pillow. It’s nice. Really really nice.

You smiled again and leaned into the hug.

Okay, maybe you do kinda like him.

[storiesforallfandoms]

the space cowboy and the pa ~ tom ryder;the fall guy

word count: 2869

request?: no

description: in which the big movie star takes interest in the pa of his new movie

pairing: tom ryder x female!reader

warnings: swearing, tom being tom, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

When you were hired as a PA on a major sci-fi blockbuster, you were obviously beyond ecstatic. It was a big deal for many reasons, and it would look great on your resume as the first film you worked on.

What you didn't expect was for your job to essentially become you running after Tom Ryder all the time.

You knew who Tom Ryder was before you were hired on to Metalstorm. Everyone did. His face was on every screen and every poster. But besides knowing him for his work, you were also warned about his work ethic and entitled attitude. You couldn't say you were surprised to hear that. You figured most celebrities of his status were all into themselves. But when you started working with him, you realized it wasn't just his stuck up-ness, it was his lack of work ethic. Truly, you had no idea how any of his movies ever got made.

You didn't agree to work on Metalstorm so you could chase a self obsessed ego maniac around all day and convince him to come do his job. That's now what a PA is meant to do. On the plus side, Jody was very sympathetic and apologetic to you over this. Jody had worked with Tom for years, and had actually been the one to warn you about Tom's behavior. She knew you didn't want to just be a lacky to Tom Ryder, but when Tom's personal assistant was constantly out taking care of his dogs or getting him his super (annoyingly) specific Starbucks order, and everyone else was too busy trying to make a huge blockbuster to do it themselves, the responsibility had to fall to someone.

So, when you arrived on set to see Jody with her head in her hands, a sign that she was stressed, you already knew what was happening.

"He was supposed to be here an hour ago," Jody said, exasperated. "We don't have much time left for this shoot and there's still so much to be done, but he's nowhere to be found."

You looked up at Gail, sipping her usual Diet Coke. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I've already gone to his trailer twice. Each time he said he was on his way to set."

"Clearly he wasn't," you muttered. "I'll go find him."

"(Y/N), no - " Jody started.

"Try to film something with Colt in place of Tom or something," you told her. "I'll get the dickhead to set."

You made off for Tom's trailer. It was incredibly easy to find among the sea of other cast and crew trailers because it was the biggest one. He could probably live out of it if he hadn't gotten a huge apartment to stay in while filming. His name was printed in big, bold letters on the door, as if the size of the trailer alone wasn't enough to signal that it belonged to the star of the movie.

You walked in without knocking, something you'd realize later you might've regretted if you had found Tom in a more...revealing position. Luckily, he was just laying on the trailer couch, a sleep mask over his eyes and AirPods in his ears. He didn't notice you walked into his trailer, so you did something else you'd probably regret: you flicked Tom's forehead to get his attention.

He jumped and ripped off his sleep mask, snapping, "What the fuck?!"

You crossed your arms as his eyes readjusted to the light. He looked up at you and took out a headphone. "What do you want?"

You rolled your eyes. "You, on set, now."

"Gail already came to tell me it was call time. I'll be there in a minute."

"You were meant to be on set an hour ago. There's no more 'minutes', you're coming now."

Tom sat up. "Listen, assistant, I have a very intense process before I start filming that takes time and concentration. Gail already interrupted me, and now that you have as well I'll have to start all over. Tell Jody not to worry a hair on her pretty head, I will be there."

A combination of general frustration with Tom's behavior and the fact that he was dismissing you as just an "assistant" caused you to finally snapped. You grabbed Tom's sleep mask and snatched his headphones from his ears. He protested, but you ignored him as you kicked open his trailer door and chucked the objects as far as you could.

When you turned back to Tom, he was on his feet and he looked furious. But you refused to be intimidated by him.

"You listen to me, Tom Ryder," you said. "I don't give a shit about your stupid fucking pre-filming rituals. What I do give a shit about is this movie, that you're supposed to be the star of. I am sick and tired of chasing you around like a toddle to round you onto set when that is not my job. So, please, get off your ass and do your job."

You turned to leave, but paused to add, "And I'm a PA, not your assistant."

You walked out of his trailer, the frustration slowly starting to evaporate. You didn't think your words were going to have any effect on Tom. If anything, you were sure it would just make him pissed off and he probably wouldn't even come to set at all now. You'd feel worried for your job if you weren't so happy with yourself for finally telling Tom off.

You were planning on how you were going to tell Jody about what happened with Tom when you heard his trailer door open. You turned to see Tom stepping out of the trailer, already dressed in his gold space cowboy outfit which you hadn't noticed before.

He brushed past you, saying, "Let's shoot this fucking thing."

You let out a sigh of relief as you trailed after him.

Tom, luckily, was super professional and fantastic at his job for the remainder of the day. So much so that Jody was literally jumping from her seat to praise the cast, and to show her relief that the day had finally gone well. You were equally thrilled by this because it meant you were finally able to do your actual job.

When Jody finally called it for the day, you were collecting your stuff and noticed someone approaching you. You looked up to see it was Tom. You braced yourself for the verbal berating you were likely about to get.

"Hey," he said. "PA. What's your name?"

You'd be offended if it were anyone else asking. You had been working with Tom for months, so most people would expect that he'd know your name, but considering that he viewed you as just another assistant until hours ago, you weren't shocked that he hadn't deemed you important enough to remember your name.

"(Y/N)," you told him. "And, listen, I'm sorry about what I said earlier - "

"No you're not," Tom cut you off. "That level of verbal smackdown only happens when you've been holding something in for a long time and you've finally had enough. And you're right, I haven't been making things easy for anyone on set this whole filming process."

Was this some sort of joke? Were the cameras still rolling trying to film your reaction? Had you passed out suddenly while filming and now you were dreaming? There was no way that Tom Ryder of all people was admitting to his faults, especially to someone he couldn't even be bothered to learn the name or occupation of until seconds ago.

When you didn't respond, Tom continued on, "What are you doing tonight?"

"Uh...just going back to my hotel room, I guess. Maybe grab a drink with Jody at the hotel bar."

"Change your plans. You're gonna come have a drink with me instead."

It wasn't a question because Tom Ryder didn't have to ask questions. Tom Ryder was used to just smiling at a woman - or at a man honestly - and having them fall to his feet immediately.

So imagine his surprise when you said, "No."

You started to walk away from him, but he quickly moved to follow you. "Uh...maybe you didn't hear me correctly."

"No, I heard you just fine," you said. "The answer is no."

"But...why?"

You stopped walking to turn and face him. "Tom, you are the star of this movie, and I am a production assistant. There are so many levels of not right about me getting drinks with you."

"It's just drinks," he said with a shrug.

"It's a date, and I can't go on a date with you while we're working together."

You turned to walk away from him again. This time, he didn't follow. He watched you go for a while before calling out, "What about when we're not working together?"

You looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. "We'll see."

~~~~~~

Weeks later, the filming of Metalstorm came to a close. It have become much less painful on set as Tom was always in costume and on set at the time he was supposed to be, sometimes even earlier. Everyone was so shocked by his sudden change, but no one was going to question it. There was too much left of the movie to be filmed to start bringing attention to the fact that Tom was actually being a professional.

During the last few weeks, Tom did not give up on his pursuit of you. He didn't ask you out again, but he was constantly sending you gifts to remind you that he still wanted to go out with you: flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals. The one that really made you laugh was when you found a magazine with him on the cover, shirtless, in front of your hotel room door.

The last day on set, as everyone was celebrating the end of the shoot and saying their emotional goodbyes, you walked up to Tom and slipped a piece of paper into his hand. When he opened it, he saw your number written on it.

You got a text almost immediately after: "drinks, my place. i'll send a car for you"

You got ready at the hotel, putting on the nicest thing you had packed. You hadn't really packed any dresses or outfits that would be date worthy because you weren't expecting to go on any dates. The closest thing you had was a nice pair of jeans and a short sleeved button up blouse that was white with red and pink flowers on it. It seemed more professional work vibes than date vibes, but that's all you had really prepared for.

You also hadn't packed makeup, not expecting to need any when you were just here for work, so you had to hope Tom wasn't expecting you to show up completely dolled up.

The car he had sent for you showed up around 8pm and took you directly to his apartment. He was waiting for you by the door, also dressed more casually than fancy for a date, so you felt a little relieved.

"Hey," he said when you got out of the car. "You look great."

"Thanks," you said. "Are we, um, staying in for drinks?"

"Yeah, I figure that's probably the better option. Less likely to be surrounded by paparazzi or crazy fans if we just hang out in my place."

Right, that would make sense.

You hadn't really thought about the fact that someone like Tom probably didn't get to go out as much as a normal person would. He hadn't been to any of the Metalstorm cast and crew nights out, but you had chalked that up to him thinking he was too good to go out with everyone else. Maybe it was actually because he felt like he couldn't.

You followed Tom into his apartment. Although, "apartment" was definitely an understatement. The place was bigger than the house you had grown up in, and even had two floors and a rooftop pool. You couldn't help but marvel at everything - the largeness of it, as well as all the film memorabilia Tom had placed on the walls and the shelves. And then you came across the walls covered in sticky notes and found yourself confused.

Tom noticed the look on your face as you stopped to read a few of the notes and laughed. "I like to remember things."

"'Next role: paramedic vampire'?" you read, giving Tom a playful look.

"I think that could be a good role. Imagine a paramedic who is also a vampire, and sometimes they have to struggle with all the blood they're exposed to every day."

"So basically Carlisle Cullen from Twilight?"

"I've never seen those movies so I don't know."

You chuckled as you followed him to the mini bar.

"What do you drink?" he asked. "I have...basically everything."

"Give me a whiskey neat." He raised an eyebrow at you. "I had a lot of hard nights during film school. You learn to enjoy the hard stuff."

He smiled and grabbed you a glass. He filled it halfway with a whiskey that definitely looked very expensive, and then got himself a glass as well. He held his glass up to you, and you tapped yours against his.

"What are we toasting to?" you asked him.

"To the movie finally wrapping so I could take you on a date."

You couldn't help but smile as you took a sip of your whiskey.

"There's something I have to ask you before we move forward, though," you said. Tom leaned against the island between you two and motioned for you to continue. "When did you and Iggy stop dating? I mean...obviously you've stopped dating...right?"

Tom chuckled. "Would I have asked you on a date if we hadn't?"

"I don't know how you big hot shot celebrity couples do relationships. Maybe you guys are like...open? I don't know."

"We're not, and we're not together. We broke up just before Metalstorm started filming."

You winced. "That's rough."

"That's acting. You can't just throw away a whole role because you have to act alongside your ex. Besides, it was mutual, and now she's dating Jason Momoa."

"And you're on a date with the PA from Metalstorm."

Tom gave you a look. "Don't say that as if it's a downgrade or something. I like you, that's all that matters."

You were speechless. This was the most sincere you had ever heard Tom be. Usually he was yelling or cursing on set because he felt like the take he did was awful, or he was annoyed by the Australian heat in his shiny gold costume. You had no idea that Tom Ryder had a softer side of him. Actually, you weren't sure anyone knew that.

You and Tom eventually moved from the car to the couch in his lounge. He turned on a movie ("I promise it won't be my own", he had joked) and the two of you sat close but not close enough to be touching. Tom had his arm across the back of the couch behind you, just begging for you to lean into him. You'd keep inching closer every so often until finally your side was pressed against his, and you were able to rest your head on his shoulder.

You couldn't help but think about how surprised you were with how quickly things had changed these last few weeks. For a majority of filming, you had basically hated Tom. You thought he was egotistical and annoying. You never would've thought you'd be on a date with him once filming had wrapped. Sure, you thought he was attractive. Anyone with eyes could see that. But you didn't think he would ever see you as someone to go on a date with, let alone that you would have agreed if he asked.

At some point during the movie, Tom shifted and moved away from you. You looked up at him, confused, to find him already looking down at you.

"I really want to kiss you," he admitted.

"What's stopping you?" you asked.

The answer was nothing, because once the words were out of your mouth Tom was cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. It was one of those magical kisses that people in TV shows and movies always talk about. The ones where they say you feel a spark and you see stars. You didn't want it to end.

But eventually you had to pull away for air. You looked up at Tom, who now had a small grin on his face.

"I suppose there's no chance you'd want to stay over?" he asked.

You really wanted to say yes, but you knew you shouldn't. You weren't the type of person to put out on the first date, and you knew there was a huge risk of that happening if you stayed at Tom's for the night.

So, you sighed and shook your haed.

"Thought so," Tom said. "I'll just have to get enough kissing in before I have to let you go."

You giggled as he leaned in to kiss you again.

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

Hello! Could I please get #22 with Tom Ryder? And if possible could it have some jealousy-driven angst? I love your writing so much, you’re one of the bests in this website (along with your wife) 😍

Thank you for your kind words! I hope this hit's the spot for you.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝘽𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨

Tom Ryder x F!Reader

◢ Genre: Prompt Request — Suitable For Adults Only. Minors will be blocked.

◢ Warnings: 18+ only, please. AFAB Reader. PWP (slight plotting, mostly smut). Angst. Tom is jealous, maybe a little paranoid. Drunk and high Tom. Slightly drunk reader. Mentions of drinking. Mentions of drugs. Mentions of a party. Smut. Marking the reader with hickeys. P-in-V. Mentions of orgasms and cum. Mentions of Tom saying you're his.

◢ Word Count: 1.7K

◢ A/N: Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated. And I am always down to hear what you think.

2K Follower Prompt List

"Were you flirting back with him?" Tom asks, his tone sounding rough, almost slurring just slightly from the mix of liquor and drugs.

The party, as usual, had been nothing short of crazy. Everyone wanted to be around Tom. Everyone wanted to be friends with Tom. People fawned and pawed for his attention and his favor. None of them knew him. None of them actually care about him. It was just the glamor effect of being around a big celebrity.

A part of you hated it, but that didn't stop you from enjoying yourself. Still, he was searching for a problem that wasn't there.

"No, Tom." You respond sounding almost annoyed at this point.

You have given him the same answer a couple times now. Why was he reaching for a problem that wasn't there? You were faithful to him, even when he was a complete asshole. Even when he would allow some strange girl to hang all over him for attention.

Maybe you should be the one raising questions, but you didn't. You had this trust in Tom because he didn't give you a reason not to, as much as it might look like it sometimes.

Placing your hand on the wall, you brace your slightly drunk self as you reach down to take off your shoes. You slip off one, and then the other, stumbling slightly.

"Were you interested in him?" He asks.

You shoot Tom a rather angry glare. "Seriously, Tom? No."

You go to make your way through the apartment, shaking your head in disapproval. This was insane. He knew better, but when he got like this, there was no stopping that sometimes stupid vivid imagination of his. But his hand reaches for you, grabbing at your forearm tightly as he pulls you back to him. He jerks you slightly, forcing you to look at him.

"You're mine, Y/n. No matter what anyone else thinks or wants. And they think they can just have you like they think they can have everything else --- they can't."

Tom's tone makes you stop, your eyes searching his. This wasn't just some stupid argument for the sake of it because he was drunk, was it? You couldn't tell anymore. You go to pull your arm away from him, wanting to walk away. You didn't want to reward this kind of behavior, but he pulled you back, jerking on your arm a little harder.

"Tom, let me ---" "No." He cuts you off. "Stop -- stop brushing me off."

He lets go of your hand only to wrap his arms around you. His face grazes against the crook of your neck. You can smell the liquor and cologne mix on him, the scent filling your nose and it's almost as intoxicating as what you both had to drink. His breath is hot on your skin, causing goosebumps as he grazes his nose against your neck. His hand travels against your body, going to grip your ass as he pulls you as close to him as possible, his fingers pressing to your cheeks and pulling them apart slightly.

"What's mine is mine. You're mine. All mine."

You're frustrated with him, but the way his hands handled your body made you weak. He can hear as your breath becomes shaky, slightly heavier than normal. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around him as he goes to carry you off, moving a little slow to not drop you or bump into anything.

"Tom, I gotta ---" You start to say softly. He caught you off guard. "Shut up." He cuts you off again.

He wasn't about to let you have a word in edgewise. He was tired of you brushing this off, or getting mad at him because he wanted to make a point. Since talking about it didn't work, he was going to make his point in a way that you'd understand. Drunk, high, or not, he knew what he wanted and he wanted you. He wanted people to stop trying to get your attention. That guy wanted your attention. He hated it. It got under his skin.

Your body comes to the bed and he lays you on it, hovering over you for a moment. The weight of him on top of you felt good, the frustration starting to fade as he ran a hand up your thigh and to your side. It creeps up under your shirt, pushing your bra out of the way as his hand starts to fondle your breast. Your skin is sensitive, feeling hot as it responds to the desire that you always had for him.

Tom's lips feverishly press against yours before they start to trail from your lips to your jaw, and then your neck. He makes you moan slightly, your hips lifting up and pressing into his. This was much better than arguing or getting annoyed, but he still had nothing to be worried about when it came to you. Maybe you didn't understand why he responded the way he did, but you were tired of it.

Going to lift your shirt slightly, he fumbles a bit, wanting it off your body. You help him, lifting yourself up just enough to remove the fabric and the bra, then come to lay back down on the bed. His lips go to meet your nipple, taking it into his mouth like his life depended on it. He pulls slightly at it with his teeth, all while his hand moves from your side to between your legs.

Feeling his fingers meet your clit through the fabric, working the flesh in a circular motion, you gasp slightly. Your hands run through that tangled mess of shaggy blonde and brown hair. You pull at it slightly, feeling the vibrations of a groan against your breast. He knew exactly how to touch you, to cure that sense of bubbling frustration. His fingers pressed against the fabric of your pants a little harder, feeling as you started to become wet and it clung between your legs slightly.

Tom became increasingly excited at the response you gave him. His hips, pressed down slightly as he felt the restriction of the fabric that held him. With a heavy breath, he moves from you, his hands quickly gripping the waistband of your pants, pulling them down, and stripping them from your body, along with your panties. He tosses them to the side before he fumbles slightly, stripping his own clothes off and letting them fall to the floor.

It's just a matter of moments before he's between your legs. His hand grips the shaft of his cock, stroking it slightly against you before he guides his sensitive head between your wet folds. Both of you moan in unison as the length is pressed in deeply. He starts to thrust, his flesh meeting yours with deeply pressed, rough, steady paces.

The feeling of him makes your back arch against the bed. His lips meet your collar bone, nipping at your slightly before they trail against your neck. You can feel Tom nuzzles into you slightly, a hand gripping at your hip, the other braced next to the side of your head. Noises start to fill the room as Tom becomes increasingly vocal in his enjoyment of the way your body flexes around him.

"Ma-- Mark me, Tom." You stammer in a breathy tone. "What?" He asks, face still nuzzled into the crook of your neck. "Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to."

Your words bring out a sort of feral instinct in Tom. His lips press against your neck as he starts to pull at the skin between his teeth. You can feel the wetness of his lips, the warmth of it as at first it tickles and then a slight bit of pain. You moan out, your hands quickly moving against him as you aid to pressing his cock in deeper between your legs. He moans quickly, letting go of your neck as his lips part in a heavy breath. Your neck is left with a tingle of pain, a warm wet spot where his lips once were.

But he doesn't stop there. A low groan comes from him as his pace starts to pick up, pressing into you with a more fever of pacing. His lips meet a new spot on your chest, pulling again as he starts to leave another mark. Before moving to another spot on the other side of your neck, leaving another. Maybe you were never one for love bites, maybe in some way, you were. But in the moment, there was something about the action that had sent both of your bodies into a sort of overdrive.

The sounds of flesh meeting flesh become louder as the pumps between your legs become harder, a little more clumsy in nature. Both of you let out moans in unison as you two fit like perfect puzzle pieces. He comes to take that bracing hand and lowers it a little more, his body weight pressing against you as he rests on his elbow. His other hand, still gripping at your hip starts to leave little fingertip bruises against your soft flesh. You both work your motions together, your hips moving in synch as the pace starts to pick up more and more.

His lips move from your flesh to your lips, pressing against yours. Hovering little kisses at first before your two became more passionate. Your tongues start to dance together messily, letting out noises of pleasure between your breaths. You start to feel that tremble in your body, working its way from between your legs and throughout your limbs as you climax. Tom is right along with you. He presses deeper, faster, harder until that building presser lets go and releases his finish deep into you.

There's a heavy groan from Tom as you moan his name loudly, gripping the bedspread under you in an attempt to hold onto something. You both ride out those finishes, with twitches and heavy breaths. After a moment of silence, he shifted his weight to hover over you better once more. He still braces with one hand as the other comes up to grip your jaw. He looks over the marks on your neck and he boyishly smirks. Your head turns from one side to the other as he checks your neck. His grip on your jaw tightens slightly as he leans down, kissing your cheek.

"You're mine babe." He mutters softly. "All yours, Tom." You whisper back.

------------------------

Extra tags: @voxmortuus @earth-elemental18

[fireflyinks]

karaoke and cowboy hats

colt seavers x costume designer/manager!reader

there will be multiple parts, this is part one !!

a/n : so so so much fun to write, and probably one of my longest and favorite fics i’ve ever written. i love colt and ryan gosling, and tried to add as many easter eggs from “the fall guy” as possible

summary : colt always seems to be misplacing his costumes pieces, which has him constantly coming back to the costume manager and designer, y/n. the two decide to hang out for once outside of set.

contains: this is just purely fluff and good vibes, no smut, cursing, “will they, won’t they”, part two will have more romance dw

word count : 3.7k

Working with Tom Ryder was one of the most difficult tasks one could be assigned. He was arrogant, narcissistic, and overall just a complete asshole. I had the misfortune of being the costume designer and manager for the up and coming film “Metalstorm”, and Jody, the director, insisted on the most cliché cowboy get ups imaginable, plus a gold metallic touch. Having worked with Ryder many times previously, I knew he would hate this. I had prepared myself for one of his meltdowns long before it actually happened, but it still somehow caught me off guard.

“What the fuck is this?” He stormed into the costume tent, causing me to jump up from my seat in panic.

“Ryder... Jody insisted you wear this.”

Ryder looked down at his attire in utter disgust. “Don’t try to blame anybody but yourself. This is your fault. Are you trying to embarrass me? Do you have some personal vendetta? I’ve never even worked with you before!”

It stung that he didn’t even recognize me from our previous jobs together, but I tried to ignore it. Looking at Ryder’s get-up, he didn’t even look half bad. The gold metallic suit went great with his complexion, and the cowboy hat added a charming touch. But he wasn’t having any of it.

“You have to wear it. It’s not an option. This is your costume.” I tried to act brave, as if his harsh voice didn’t effect me one bit.

“You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m going to be caught dead wearing this. Say goodbye to your job, nobody speaks to me like that. I’m Tom god-damned Ryder.”

The tent’s entrance opened, revealing a very angry Colt.

Colt and I were sort of close, as close as most coworkers get. I didn’t think we’d never hang out outside of set, but I considered him sort of an ally. When he wasn’t performing a dangerous stunt, he’d talk to me about whatever was on his mind and listen to me ramble on and on.

“Just leave her alone, Ryder. She’s not here for you to bitch at.”

It would be hard to deny the fact that I had a small crush on Colt. He was everything I could want; charming, tall, handsome. But in those moments, as he defended me, I could feel it turning to a major crush.

Anger pulsed through him as he walked over to Ryder. I’d actually never seen him so pissed off before. Colt, the easy going, overly sweet, fall guy, was bowing up on Tom Ryder.

I could tell Ryder wanted to say something back, but instead he bit his tongue as he strutted past Colt, making sure to bump shoulders with him on the way out.

Colt shook his head, making eye contact with me. He had a sorry expression on his face, genuine pity for me.

“Ignore him. Ryder’s a jackass.”

I giggled, “That’s an understatement.”

He chuckled, “Anyways, do you have any extra hats? I somehow managed to lose mine, and I already have some stunts I need to do.”

Colt nervously twiddled his thumbs, embarrassed of his clumsiness. It was our third day on set, and he’d already misplaced his hat.

I nodded, smiling. Colt was always losing his props and costume pieces in previous projects we’d worked together in, so I’d remembered to bring extras. Turning around to reach into the bucket of hats, I pulled one out and handed it to him.

“Thanks. And again, just don’t let Ryder get to you. I know you’ve worked with him before, but don’t take anything he says personally, okay? If he gives you any problems, just let me know, alright?”

It wasn’t surprising that Colt remembered me from past projects, but it still felt nice in contrast to Ryder’s forgetfulness.

I nodded, smiling. “Thanks Colt, I really appreciate that.”

My cheeks burned a light crimson shade, and I tilted my head down, hoping he didn’t notice.

As he walked out of the tent, I added “Let me know if you need another hat or anything. I brought extras just for you.”

Colt looked back at me, smirking. “I will definitely need another one, thanks sweetheart.”

The simple nickname made my head spin. Yep, this is definitely a major crush.

—

By day five of filming, Ryder had become okay with his costume. Well, maybe not okay, but definitely impartial. Perhaps because his ego had realized how ridiculously good the suit made him look, or maybe Colt had spoken to him alone about the matter.

Part of me hoped it was the latter.

My job as costume designer and manager was really simple; fix and replace shit all the time. Especially Colt’s shit. When day six rolled around, he had lost three hats, his metallic jacket, and somehow a singular shoe. I’m not kidding, he had stumbled into the costume tent, peg footed, hobbling on the shoe he’d managed to keep. I didn’t mind though. In fact, Colt was one of the few people that actually visited me in the tent, instead of walking in, grabbing their belongings, and quickly walking out, not saying a word or acknowledging my existence. Colt’s visits slowly became one of the only things I looked forward to during filming.

On day twelve, when Colt came in to the tent without a cowboy hat once again, I mustered up the courage to ask him the one thing I never thought I’d be able to ask.

“Do you want to hang out sometime. You know, just me and you? Outside of set.”

The sides of his mouth quirked up. “I’d love that actually. But I do have one request.”

I furrowed my brows, listening intently. “If me and you go out, you have to wear a cowboy hat.”

My mouth dropped open in protest, but he argued on. “You’ve seen me in these stupid things so many times, too many times to count. I’m completely and utterly embarrassed. Maybe I want to see you sporting your southern spirit for once.”

“I’m from Wisconsin!” I giggled, shaking my head rapidly. “I am not wearing one of these things in public.”

Colt rolled his eyes, “Fine, but you have to wear one around set for the rest of filming. Deal?”

I sighed, remembering that I barely ever exit my tent other than at lunch time and when leaving set for the day. “Deal.”

“Karaoke, seven, tonight. I’ll text you the address.”

Colt turned to leave, and I grabbed his shoulder, pausing him.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh, yeah.” Colt chuckled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. We exchanged numbers, and he laughed at the excessive amount of repetitive digits in mine.

“And I’m expecting our deal to begin right now.” He said, glancing at the bucket of hats behind me. I sighed, picking one out and placing it upon my head.

“Happy?” I asked, holding out spirit fingers beside me.

Colt beamed, “Perfect.”

He turned and left the tent, and I pulled out my phone and began to update Colt’s contact name, only to sigh and pocket my phone again. Apple somehow doesn’t have a cowboy hat emoji.

—

When my Uber lazily pulled up to the karaoke bar, anxiety pooled in my stomach all at once. I shouldn’t have been this nervous, and I knew I was making this out to be something that it wasn’t. A date.

But what exactly was I supposed to think of this as? Hangouts happen at people’s houses, dates happen at bars. Plus it didn’t help that it was Colt and I alone. I look down at the sun dress that I donned, running my hands down the skirt. This wasn’t too formal, right?

I stepped out of the black car, thanking the half asleep driver, and walked toward the bar. I opened the door and automatically spotted Colt sitting by himself, drinking a small, lean glass of something colorful. The bar wasn’t exactly packed, but it wasn’t empty either. Numerous people danced around as a man in a orange and green polka dot button up did a bad rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance”.

Making my way towards him, the anxiety filled my stomach even higher.

“Hey.” I said nervously, sitting down beside him.

Colt looked at me, examining my attire. “You look great.”

I blushed, shrugging. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

He smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

I wasn’t too keen on getting drunk because we still had to go to set in the morning and the last thing I wanted Colt Seavers to see was me throwing up in a bush, but a drink or two couldn’t hurt.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure,” I grabbed the bartender’s attention, “Can I please get a margarita?” She nodded, scrambling to assemble the cocktail.

“So I’m guessing you don’t drink much?” Colt asked, his lips in a sly smirk.

“What makes you say that?”

I chuckled, drinking the last of what I assume what his first drink and ordering another. I then learned the bright liquid was a sunset on ice.

“Well you ordered the most basic drink known to mankind. I mean, at least make it spicy.”

I guess that was true, but I didn’t like experimenting with my orders much. I didn’t enjoy drinking much in general due to the effects it would have on me later.

“I like what I like.” I shrugged, thanking the bartender as she handed me the margarita.

We sat in silence for a moment, until Colt turned to me. “So, what are we singing?”

I coughed into my drink. I hadn’t even thought of what I was going to sing yet.

“Funny of you to assume were doing a duet.” I said slyly, playing off the fact that I was trying to pull a song out of my ass.

Colt raised his eye brows. “Okay, then go and serenade me.”

I nodded at him, walking over to the DJ and requesting “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood. Once Polka Dots was done singing his heart out, the adrenaline had kicked in and I felt as if I ruled the world. Or maybe I just wanted to rule Colt’s world.

The small crowd clapped along as I sang, and I say Colt’s smile through the audience every time I tried to execute one of the runs in the song.

Afterwards, I walked over to him, slightly embarrassed but also proud. “How’d I do?”

His face was covered in amusement. “It was... entertaining.”

I giggled, punching his arm lightly. “You’re the one who told me to ‘sport my southern spirit’!”

He sighed, shaking his head sarcastically. “The cowboy had would’ve made it complete. You missed the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I think I’ll live. Now it’s your turn!”

I motioned towards the DJ booth, and he stood up turning back for a split second to wink at me.

I was expecting something silly. Maybe Total Eclipse of the Heart, or Sweet Caroline. I was terribly wrong.

By the time the first notes blared out of the speakers, I knew I was doomed.

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you.

It’s like he’d searched my brain, found my favorite love song of all time, and decided he was going to make me fall in love with him by singing it.

His voice wasn’t perfect. There were parts that were off key and shaky, but the bigger picture was beautiful. I never thought I could fall in love with someone in a karaoke bar.

Once he was done, my shoulders dropped and the tension left my body. It had been so unexpected, the tune had snuck up on me and now I felt head over heels to the man who had sung it. I wasn’t the only one who loved it, the crowd was going crazy.

“How’d I do?” Colt asked me, sipping the drink that had been waiting for him. This had to have been his third drink, and I could tell he was tipsy from the way he spoke.

“It was great.” I wanted to scream ‘It was amazing! It was perfect! Please marry me!’ But thankfully I did not.

“‘Glad you liked it.”

We sat in silence for a moment before I got the guts to ask.

“Why that song?”

Colt hummed, as if asking me to repeat my question.

“Why’d you pick that song?”

He grinned to himself before shrugging. “I just like the song, I guess. It’s one of my favorites.”

It could’ve been my habit of overthinking and examining everything to the smallest detail, or it could’ve been the psychology course that I took in college and obsessively studied over for months, but Colt’s excessive blinking in those moments told me there was a good chance he was lying to me.

Why would he lie over a song?

“It’s one of my favorites too.” I smiled. I’d find out why he lied to me later.

Colt grinned to himself in satisfaction.

We sat there for another hour, and Colt drank two more tequila sunrises, which meant I was now his designated driver.

At about nine, I decided it was time to leave.

“Colt, I’m gonna give you a ride home, okay?”

Colt nodded dizzily.

“Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, here.” He clumsily handed me his keys, almost missing my hand. I stiffened a laugh. “Diane! Close out my tab, please.” The waitress handed him his card quickly.

We stood up, beginning to leave, when Colt turned back to the bartender. “Thank you, Diane, those drinks were great.”

I waved goodbye to Diane as well, reading the “Amy” on her name tag with a smile.

I got him into the car slowly, and began driving him home.

“Hey, y/n?”

I hummed, waiting to hear what he was about to say. Chances are it would be something ridiculous, and I was all here for it.

“You’re really pretty. Have you ever been told that?”

I blushed, and prayed the dark car shadowed me enough for him not to see.

“A time or two. Thank you, Colt.”

He leaned the passenger seat back, and I thought for a moment that he would go to sleep.

“Where are you staying?”

He turned his head to me, and shrugged. “Can we just go to yours?”

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Colt Seavers, in my small temporary apartment that I was providing to stay in during the time we’d be filming. It wasn’t a mess since I’d only been staying in there for about two weeks, but it definitely wasn’t guest ready.

“Sure, why not?” I fumbled with my phone, pulling up my GPS app and getting directions to the apartment.

“Can I tell you something, y/n?”

I nodded slowly, ignoring the way my stomach felt when he said my name.

“I actually didn’t lose all of those hats.”

What?

I furrowed my eyebrows, whipping my head to look at him. “Then why’d you keep getting new ones from me?”

He hiccuped, smirking. “I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

If my face was a crimson shade before, it was a tomato now. I felt bad, like I was using Colt’s drunken state to get answers out of him.

“Did you like my song?” He looked over at me, waiting for my answer intensely.

My lips quirked up into a soft smile. “I did. ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ is actually one of my favorite songs.”

This made him giddy. He giggled like a school girl, and then stiffened a laugh myself.

“I know.” Colt said under his breath.

So he did know.

“How’d you know?” I pressed Colt for answers. I knew that if he found out he’d told me any of this while drunk, he’d be mortified, but I just couldn’t help my curiosity.

“I heard you listening to it one day on set. I was outside of your tent, about to come in to tell you that I’d lost another hat, but I stopped and listened for a while. You were singing along, and you sounded so good. That’s why I wanted to sing a duet with you.”

At this point, I’m the color of a fire truck.

We pulled up to the apartment, and I unbuckled, getting out. I walked over to Colt’s door and opened it for him.

“Very chivalrous, thank you my lady.”

I giggled, helping his wobbly frame out of the car. “You’re welcome kind gentleman.”

We walked into the apartment building, making our way up a flight of stairs. Well, I made my way up them, Colt tripped over himself with each new stair until he made it to the top. At one point, he almost fell all the way down them, and dragged me down by my arm with him, but he managed to catch himself.

I brought him to my room, closing the door behind him. It was small, the kitchen and lounging room directly next to one another, separated by no wall. There was a door that led to the bedroom with a bathroom connected.

Walking into the kitchen, I grabbed a plastic cup form the cupboard and filled it with water. I handed it to Colt, who turned his nose up at it like I were trying to feed him poison.

“You have to drink water or you’ll regret it in the morning, Colt. You still have to go in for filming, remember?”

He sighed, taking the cup from me and drinking it all at once. “I’m starving.”

I thought for a moment about what he could possibly find to eat in the apartment. Nothing. I’d pretty much been eating take out since I arrived to Sydney.

“I’ll order a pizza.”

I pulled my wallet out of my purse on the kitchen counter. Colt shook his head, reaching in his pocket. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay.”

“You got the drinks, Colt, it’s fine.” I insisted, grabbing my card.

Colt handed me his entire wallet, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing I made you pay for it.” his drowsy eyes said otherwise, “Please, just let me.”

I sighed, taking his wallet from him, “Thank you.” I said under my breath.

Colt only winked at me, lazily walking to the couch and plopping himself on it.

I ordered the pizza, assuming he liked pepperoni because who doesn’t like pepperoni?

I sat down beside him on the couch once I was finished. He was flipping through the different options on Netflix, his face was focused intently to find something.

Colt Seavers was on my couch. Well not necessarily my couch since the apartment was only being rented for me, but you get the point. We were on the couch together, tryin to find a movie to watch with pizza on the way. This realization made my cheeks feel hot once again.

“Here we go.” Colt chuckled as he clicked on the block buster film “Bad Cop, Good Dog” starring the one and only Tom Ryder.

“Get him off the screen, I might puke.” I giggled, attempting to grab the remote from him. Colt held it as far away as his much longer arms could manage, and I gave up.

“This is such a horrible film.” Colt told me, his eyes laser focused on the screen still.

“Then why are we watching it?”

Colt thought for a moment. “The way he talked to you the other day isn’t anything new. I’ve seen him talk to pretty much every one on every set we worked on together just like that. I just couldn’t always save them like I did you. It’s easy to think he’s some big, powerful guy, but in reality, he’s a pussy.”

I stayed silent for a moment. It felt nice, knowing that he still cared so deeply about the way Ryder had treated me.

“That’s nice and all, but it still doesn’t explain why exactly were watching this.”

Colt shrugged, “Oh, I just like making fun of him. We can watch something else if you want to.”

I snatched the remote from him, “Please.”

After a few more minutes of searching, I decided on the 1998 classic “The Parent Trap”.

“This movie never made any sense to me.” Colt crossed his arms as the movie started.

“Why?”

“Well, first off, what judge arranged this custody system? I mean seriously, how did both parents just up and leave with one kid?” He slurred so horribly that I had to fight a laugh as he spoke.

“It’s just a movie.” There are a few movies that I would defend with my life, this is definitely one of them.

“You can’t just use that as an excuse. Just because it’s a movie doesn’t mean it’s allowed to just defy all logic.”

“Colt,” I turned to face him, “You are working on a sci-if space cowboy movie with aliens. I think that makes the parent trap sound pretty reasonable.”

Colt chuckled, “Touché.”

My heart fluttered as I looked at Colt, lazily snuggled into my couch.

There was a knock at the door and I hopped up, walking through the kitchen and dodging Colt’s wallet, grabbing mine instead.

I paid for the pizza and brought it in, met with the sight of an extremely hungry Colt waiting impatiently at the counter.

“You didn’t use my wallet.”

I sighed, putting mine back in my purse. “I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own things.”

Colt shook his head. “You’re absolutely kicking my ass at the chivalry game.”

Grabbing a slice of pizza, I went back to the living room. Colt followed quickly behind me, and we got about one-fourth through the movie before I could tell Colt was getting extremely tired.

I got up, and went to my room, grabbing a blanket and a pillow.

“Here.” I handed them to him. Colt smiled up at me gratefully.

“Thanks.” He made himself comfortable, before leaning back and closing his eyes. The couch wasn’t very small, which was surprising since the apartment was so compact. This is why I didn’t feel bad about having him sleep on the couch. He didn’t complain either.

“Goodnight.” He mumbled, drifting off.

I smirked at him, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water to place beside the couch. I also grabbed the bathroom’s trash can. He was going to have a terrible hangover.

“Goodnight Colt.”

I had gotten a date with Colt Seavers for the small price of humiliating myself in a southern style for the rest of filming. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal.

Or maybe it wasn’t date and I was delusional, but Colt ended up sleeping on my couch, which is pretty sweet if you ask me.

[friendship-ditch]

Alive

(Jody Moreno x Fem Reader) ❀

Summary: Your and Jody's conversation after you "blew up" in Sydney Harbor.

Warnings/Notes: A few mentions of suicide and death and not totally canon compliant, but also lots of fluff

Word Count: 1813

  It was all over the news; The Explosion on Sydney Harbor.  

  An act of aggressive suicide, they called it, Y/N’s attempt at one final show before being arrested for her murder.  The news speculated you killed the other stunt worker to take their job, get yourself back on track in the Tom Ryder movies.  The media viewed you as a selfish asshole, who, when approached with a struggle you knew you couldn’t escape, decided to go out with a destructive bang and blow up a bunch of oil containers.

  The cameras caught the explosion pretty well.  You could see your flaming boat circle the oil, and then leap at it.  The quality diminished from how bright it was on screen, but the flames were licking tall into the sky.  

  You’d certainly died.  You’d blown up into pieces.  The last remnant was your Miami Vice jacket found floating in the water.  Boom.  Y/N was dead.

  But you weren’t.  You couldn’t be, you just couldn’t.

  Jody rewinded the video on her laptop for the seventh time in a row.  Her eyes were burning from how close she was to the screen, surveying every damn pixel for any hint of you.  

  She’d spent the whole night awake, the idea of sleeping making her feel sick.  Gail’s call had sent her into about two hours worth of tears until she remembered your previous work years ago of riding boats over flames constantly.  

  It took her a few hours to actually convince herself to watch the news once it came out, fearing the worst; your dead, burned body?  Or the fact that you survived and they caught you…  Both options terrified her.

  By some miracle, the result was neither.  All the news had to share was the explosion… and that was it.  Nobody had really gone out and investigated the waters yet, but the common assumption was you had died.

  Jody was the first, and likely only person to call bullshit on this.  The realization that you might still be alive was enough to keep her going.  And so, there she was, as close to her computer screen as she could be and rewatching it over, and over, and over.

  She was so engrossed in the video, that she didn’t notice her door cracking open, nor the alien-dressed-human stepping inside.

  Your body moved awkwardly, confined to the tight and uneven spaces of one variation of the Metalstorm alien costumes.  You moved with the grace of a newborn colt trapped in a sea of molasses.  It was a miracle you made it inside without Jody noticing you.

  You planned to take the helmet off once you got in… that part of the plan slipped your mind as after everything you’d been through, you were just so excited to see Jody.  You reached out a hand and touched her shoulder.

  And Jody beat the shit out of you.

  “It’s me!”  You exclaimed as she practically threw you around like you were weightless.  To your luck, the voice distorter was jacked and all it sounded like was a bunch of alienish mumbling.

  Jody nearly choked you.  When that didn’t work, she grabbed a pen and stabbed it into your leg.  Your cry of pain was distorted once more and soon you were on the ground.

  Aimed like a warrior about to slay her worst enemy, Jody held her pen up, most likely aiming for your chest.  Was she actually going to kill you?  At this point, probably.  Just another disaster on the Metalstorm set; Jody Moreno, new director, jailed for murder after death of girlfriend, insanity suspected.  Another one for the books.  Could Gail Meyer recover?  Could Tom Ryder?  

  You stopped her death blow, arms shaking from her sudden strength.  She wasn’t kidding about working out after you vanished.

  Jody’s eyes were filled with an almost scary ferocity, her body shaking too with the urge to implant the pen right into your chest.  What did she have to lose?

  That rage vanished from her face the second you managed to form your trembling hand into a thumbs up.  Jody gasped and threw the pen aside, then tore your helmet off.

  “Y/N!  I knew you weren’t dead, oh god…!”  Jody’s voice immediately went from fierce to breathless as reality set in on her.  She sat you up, ignoring how bulky your costume was, and how sweaty you were from the whole thing.  Her hands cupped your face in a frantic motion to keep you from disappearing again.  Jittery fingers ran through your hair, then back to your face, and finally down to the costume.  She didn’t know what to grab or hold, too excited and overwhelmed.  “Are you okay?”

  You chuckled weakly, propping yourself up against the couch with her help.  “I think…  You got the pen out before the ink poisoning could set in, that’s good.”

  The sparkle in Jody’s eyes was replaced with guilt and she frowned worriedly, her gaze turning to your leg.  “I’m sorry.  You scared the shit out of me, if I knew it was you…  I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.  It was cool.”  Your voice was a little raspy, and your leg felt like it was on fire, but you tried your best to push past it for Jody.  You tried to reach out and tousle her hair but all the obtuse gloves managed to do was sort of just poke her in the side of the face.

  “I knew you weren’t dead.”  Jody whispered again, setting her hands on your shoulders.  “The… the Miami Vice stunts..”

  “You remembered…”

  “Of course.”  She murmured.  “But… what happened to you?  Gail said she sent you off on a plane, you caused an explosion in the harbor, you murdered–”

  “I didn’t murder anybody.  Tom framed me.”

  “He what?”

  It turns out, once you actually explained the whole thing to Jody, she understood it a lot easier than with your movie analogies.  At the end of it, she was practically fuming.

  “Who else knows you're alive?”  Jody asked quietly once you finished.

  “Nobody.”

  “You shouldn’t be here!  We have to burn your finger prints off and send you across the border right now!”  She exclaimed in a loud whisper, grabbing your hands.  

  “No, no!  That’s the point!  If they think I’m dead, they’ll come back and finish the movie.”  You squeezed her hands tightly in return.

  Furrowing her eyebrows, Jody sat back on her heels.  “The movie?  That’s not important, Y/N.  You’re more important.  We need to hide you until we can prove you’re innocent because I’m not losing you again.  It’s just a stupid movie.”

  A stupid movie?  WHAT?!  For all of the years that you knew Jody (around 3-ish, probably, you’d lost count), even before you dated her, all she could talk about was how badly she always wanted to make a movie of her own.  She had countless notebooks with ideas scribbled in even the margins, notes on her phone full of words that made sense only to her of assorted plots and endings to ideas that didn’t even relate, and always doodled on every piece of scrap paper she could get if it was big enough for her to draw up a new mock design.  Jody had poured her heart and soul into this movie and you knew damn well that letting her give up on it would crush her.  There had to be a way to keep Jody from going to directors jail and you out of the more general jail.

  “It’s not stupid!  It’s an amazing movie, Jody.”  You blurted out, cutting her off from her rambling.  “You’ve worked your whole life to get to this point, and you deserve this more than anybody.  Your story deserves to be told and the world deserves to see your work and your never ending dedication.”  

  Jody stared at you.

  “You have… a way of viewing the world that’s so extraordinary and creative and your stories are always gorgeous, whether they end happily or not.  I’m not letting you give up on your dreams because I know it’ll break your heart just as much as if I went to jail…  Maybe I couldn’t get us our happy ending, and I don’t know what you have planned for the end of the movie, but I’ll be damned if Space cowboy and Aliena don’t get to cross the big screens.”

  Out of breath from your rant, you dipped your head for a second to fill your lungs.  In the split second you looked away, you must’ve missed a thousand thoughts in Jody’s eyes, as when you looked at her again, soft tears were dripping down her face, and her eyes were so.. so big and staring at you as plucked the moon out of the sky and offered it to her on one knee.

  “Jody…?”  Your expression softened into a frown.

  Jody tried to respond, but words failed her as all she let out was a soft croak.  She wiped her face, then slipped her arms around your neck and kissed you.  It was like a movie, no… better than the movies.  

  She only broke away when there was a sputter of knocks at the door.  It was Gail, excitedly calling Jody out to talk.

  Jody rested her head against your costume and sighed.  “In a minute, Gail!”  She called, standing up and pulling you to your feet.  “We have to hide you.”

  Did you think it would be easy to hide a woman in a bulky, beaten up and firm alien costume?  Of course you didn’t, and you’d be right.  

  It took at least 5 minutes for Jody to eventually just hide you by her bed.  She threw your helmet at you and then dealt with Gail who neither of you were the biggest fans of anymore.

  Once the annoying woman finally left, Jody ran over to you again and grabbed your hand.  “I have a plan to fix everything and clear your name.”

  “Do I get to beat the shit out of Tom Ryder?”

  “No.”

  “Does it involve finishing Metalstorm?”

  When a soft smile pricked the corners of Jody’s lips, you couldn’t help but grin.  You’d both get what you wanted; Metalstorm to finish, and keep you out of jail.  It couldn’t get any better.  

  “I’m in.”

  “You’re sure?  It’ll be a little dangerous.”  Jody teased, as if you weren’t the one that survived an explosion less than 24 hours ago.  She slipped a hand onto your shoulder, finding the latch on the back of the costume.  “Let’s get this off of you.”

  You chuckled and nodded.  Once she helped you slide out of the bulky mess, she scooped you into the tightest hug.  You buried your face into her neck, inhaling her familiar scent and closing your eyes with a smile.  “I’m sure.  Let’s beat the shit out–let's save your movie, and me.”

[kravensgirl]

Maybe you’re not an asshole after all…

Tom Ryder x F!Reader

Warning: smut 18+

He is a real asshole. You cannot stand him, as everyone else on set but you have no choice to endure him. Tom Ryder is the superstar every director wants in their movie. He looks good, has great acting skills, but as an individual, he is the worst asshole.

You are Jody’s assistant, the director of the movie and you love your job. She is an amazing boss and you can even consider her a friend. Colt, Tom’s stunt man, is also a good friend. He is kind and funny, the complete opposite of Tom.

Speaking of the devil, he is walking behind you as you storm off set after he called you a whiny bitch who doesn’t know how to do her job.

-Y/N stop! You can’t walk away from me, we aren’t finished! says Tom angry.

You stop and turn to look at him. You are furious and hurt by his words. You’ve worked hard to be where you are today. Tom almost run into you. He looks at you angry and astonished.

-I can and I will. I don’t let anyone insult me. Especially not an asshole superstar who cares only about himself. I’ve worked hard to get this job and I’m good at it. I won’t let you undermine me. Now excuse me, I have things to do.

You turn back and leave a stunned Tom Ryder standing there. You smirk in satisfaction. It was about time someone puts him back into his place. What you didn’t notice as you were turning aroud, is the tent in Tom’s pants. Your fierce personality turns him on, but he will never admit openly.

Later that day, when Jody tells everyone to wrap up, you sigh in relief. You just want a glass of wine and a hot bath after today.

You say goodbye to everyone and leave to return home. You live in a chic and spacious appartement, your job pays well. You make your way inside then go to the kitchen to get your well deserved glass of wine.

God you love your job, but working with Tom is exhausting. He is such a whiny actor who doesn’t give a shit to anyone but himself. Although you hate to admit it, he is really hot. Physically he is your type, but unfortunately his stupid bastard attitude ruins it.

You take the bottle and the glass then go to the bathroom to take a really hot bath. You need to relax and it will do the job. Once it’s ready you take off your clothes then climb inside. You sigh in relief and pleasure.

You are laying down and enjoying your wine when you hear someone knocking at your appartement’s door. You close your eyes and try to ignore it but the person doesn’t want to give up. You sigh then get out, wrap your body in a towel then go to the door.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you see Tom standing there with a bouquet of red,blue and white flowers. Your favorites. He looks you up and down, surprised but eyes darkening in lust as he see you’re only wearing a towel. You clinch it thighter against your body, feeling hot under his gaze.

-What the hell are you doing here? you ask trying not to blush.

-I wanted to apologize. You were right, I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve to be treated that way. says Tom remorseful.

You are stunned. Never in your life you’ve would thought to hear Tom Ryder apologize and admits his wrongs.

-Please say something. Don’t leave me hanging here. he says chuckling.

That gets you out of your stupor. You open the door wider to let him in.

-Well it’s unexpected. Not that I’m not thankful for the apologies and the flowers. you say with a chuckle.

-There is a first for everything. I’m sorry. You do an amazing job and you do deserve to be here. Will you forgive me? asks Tom with puppy dog eyes.

With this look you know you’re gone. And he seems honest with his apologies. So against what your head says, you walk to him and kiss him hard. He moans in surprise then with one hand puts the flowers aside and the other one holds you against him.

One thing leading to another, you find yourself naked in your bed, Tom’s head between your legs. The man knows what he is doing. You moan in pleasure as he switches from licking your wet folds to sucking on your clit.

-Oh god Tom… you’re so good at this… you breathe between moans.

He stops just for a second to smile, not smirk, at you.

-Glad to hear you like this baby. Means I’m doing my job correctly.

Tom returns to eating you out while now pumping two fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. He finds you g-spot immediately and it makes you come on his face and fingers. That was the best orgasm you ever had.

Tom slowly pulls back, his hair a mess because of your hands and his face is covered in your release. You blush. Especially when he moans as he sucks his fingers clean.

-You taste delicious baby. I could spend hours between your legs. says Tom smirking.

-As much as I would love that, do you have the intention to fuck me? Your apologies would be accepted entirely. you say smirking.

-You don’t have to tell me twice. You’re going to enjoy it so much you’ll never want another dick than mine.

Now you recognize the Tom arrogant from set. But instead of being turn off by his answer, you feel aroused at the idea of how good being fucked by him will be.

-Now spread your legs like a good girl and let Daddy fuck your pretty pussy. says Tom eyes dark with lust.

You moan at his dirty words and do as he says, spreading your legs wide. Tom groans as he sees your folds wet with arousal. He takes place between your thighs, grips his cock with one hand to align it with your pussy.

He thrusts inside you to the hilt. You squeal then moan at the fullness. He groans as he feels how thight you are. Tom let you adjust to his size. He his big and it’s been a while since you had sex.

You nod once you’re ready then wrap your legs around his waist. He slowly pulls out before thrusting back in again hard. Tom starts a fast pace, deep and hard. You whine in pleasure, the feeling of his cock moving in and out is heavenly. He moans loudly and it’s the most beautiful sound you have ever heard.

His balls hit your ass with each movement of his hips. Your breast bounces and Tom is captivated by the view. He brings his mouth to one of your nipple to lick and suck on it. He fucks you hard, making you see stars.

-Fuck Tom! Please… you beg on the verge of cumming.

-Please what baby? Use your words if you want something… says Tom smirking as he slows a bit down.

-I want to cum please! you say tears of pleasure in your eyes.

-Then cum for me Princess. Cum for Daddy. orders Tom circling your clit with the palm of his hand.

You explode, your mouth wide open in a silent scream, your cunt clenching his erection hard. You don’t have the time to recovers that Tom is pulling out, turning you on all four and thrust back in. He sets up the same pace, gripping your hair with one hand and your hips with the other one.

-Again? you say breathless.

-Sweetheart, I intend to make you cum at least three times on my dick tonight. he says into your ear.

Tom thrust two more times before halting, spilling into the condom as he comes. His release triggers yours and you climax again screaming his name. He groans in pleasure and your arms give up. You fall on your stomach, eyes half closed, completely spent and satisfied.

He pulls out then use his shirt to clean the mess between your legs then lay down at my side. You roll over to cuddle against him and he wraps an arm around you. You both lay in silence for a while, the only sound being our breathing. That was the best sex you ever had and you understands now the rumors about him.

-Apologies accepted. you say giggling.

Tom laugh. A real, sincere laugh. It’s the first time you hear it and you like it.

-I’m happy to hear it. I was wondering if well… if you want to go on a date with me? he asks suddenly shy.

You don’t hesitate when you answer him. You realize he might not be a complete asshole after all and you want to know the real him personally.

-I would love that Tom. you reply smiling.

He looks at you surprised but happy. It makes your heart melt.

-Really?

-Yes really.

Tom kisses you tenderly before it slowly turns into something more heated. You feel him harden again and you look at him surprise but aroused.

-Again? you say raising an eyebrow.

-Well I did tell you that I would at least make you come three times on my cock…

You kiss him again and he kept his promise. When you wake up the next morning in his arms, you are sore in a very good way and have a soft smile on your face.

My first ever Tom Ryder fic 🥵❤️ I love him so much it’s unfortunate that there is not enough fics about him :(

Tag: @tangerineboss @pretty-little-mind33

[yandere-ac]

Can you do rosie..........

Yandere Rosie X Reader

In the spotlight

Cherished, beloved, adored. These are your typical descriptions of Rosie , the purple cat. She was a very popular pop artist, ranking in tens of thousands of views and listens to her songs every day. It was a simple fact, the cat was loved by many people. Now of course, she wasn’t as big as K.K. Slider. She was more of an “underrated artist” in a way. Still, she had her dedicated fans, adoring fans and even a fare share of creepy fans. However, something she didn’t have that much of, was haters. She had rarely seen people hate on her or her music. It was sort of an anomaly since she thought she would get more by now.

Yet, somehow, she managed to live on an island where one of her avid haters lived.

Chichi Ryder. A name which brought a frown to Rosies face. She was the island representative of I/N. Yet her description of the island was very misleading. She and Tom Nook advertised I/N as a nice island, full of support and relaxation. However, Rosie thought the opposite. Everyday, she would walk outside and see Chichi running around talking to everyone. Yet once she got to Rosie, she would scoff and run off. Rosie felt targeted, she felt outcasted. She didn’t have a lot of reasons to stay, she could move out easy as that. But there was one thing that kept her from packing her bags and leaving.

And that was you.

Y/N L/N. You were the one who found her on that deserted island. Running up to her, asking for an autograph, it was pretty obvious that you were a fan. She found you to be very adorable and sweet. And so, when you asked if she could move in to your island, she happily accepted. That day she went home, stomach full of butterflies. However, her momentary joy soon faded once she realised who ran the island. Not you, but Chichi. Not only that but she soon found out something even WORSE! The fact if the matter was, you were not only friends with Chichi, no, you were in fact DATING Chichi!

This absolutely broke Rosie. She had been genuinely interested in you, so to find out that someone like Chichi was not only the island’s representative but also your girlfriend, it stung. It was like salt in the wound, someone punching her while she’s down, kicking sand in her eyes after destroying her sandcastle. Let’s just say, she was bitter about it. But she told herself she wouldn’t let it get to her. No, she was above this sort of drama. People like Chichi were simple worms trying to get a bit of light from her spotlight after being downcast in the darkness for so long. She wouldn’t let it get to her.

“Rosie!!!” She knew that voice. She would recognise that voice anywhere. It was the voice that would bring her the little happiness she felt while living on I/N. It was you. “HIIIIII Y/N!!! What’s up!” Rosie exclaimed as she looked over to you. You were running towards her, a pep in your step, looking very excited. Once you were near her you gave her a big hug before taking out something from your pockets. It was a gift! Neatly wrapped in pink wrapping paper and swiftly tied together with a cute little bow in a darker shade of pink. She looked at the present in amazement before looking over at you. You extended your arms, holding out the present for Rosie. “For me?” She asked, a soft smile gracing her lips. You enthusiastically nodded as you gave her a wide smile. Rosie happily took it, staring down at it for a few seconds. It looked so pretty, she didn’t want to ruin it by unwrapping the paper. But curiosity and temptation was shaking her to the core with anticipation. She wanted to rip it open. Tearing into the paper, destroying its beautiful exterior. But she couldn’t do that, she had to hide away her animalistic instincts from you. If she didn’t... you might hate her...

So she carefully unwrapped the present. Having to forcefully push down her want to rip it into shreds. Looking inside she saw a cute pink bow. Hey eyes when wide and she let out an audible gasp as she looked at the present in her hands. It was beautiful. “Oh my god! Are you like, for sure I can have this?” She felt herself getting all flustered, you knew her style so well. “Of course! You’re my friend! And I got this just for you!” This statement made Rosie choke up. It felt like her breath was caught dead still in her throat. Thrashing to escape but ultimately stuck. Friend. That word conflicted her. On one hand, she felt the affection of you actually considering her a friend. She felt very accepted and loved while she was with you. But on the other hand... friends?! Is that all you’ll ever be??? Just two gal pals? She didn’t want that. She wanted to kiss your beautiful face. Embrace you, feel you soft skin against her fur. She didn’t want to be friends, she wanted something more, she wanted for you to be hers. And only hers.

“Thank you Y/N! I love... it... I love it so much!” And with that she put the bow on and gave you a big hug. You felt so nice in her arms. Right where you belonged.

“Sweetkins!” The tender moment was interrupted by the one person Rosie DIDN’T want intervening. Chichi fucking Ryder. But of course she of all people would interrupt you two. Breaking the hug, you looked up at your girlfriend and quickly letting go of Rosie all together. You seemed to get a little more nervous. She embraced you lovingly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around for a few seconds before finally putting you back down again. You planted a kiss on her lips and Rosie had to resist the urge to puke. Chichi turned from you and looked over at Rosie. “Oh... hello Rosie...” Chichi said as she gave Rosie a stern look. She hid behind a smile, but it was easy to see all the hate and resentment behind her eyes. “Hello Chichi, how are you?” Rosie said, almost in a sickeningly sweet tone. “Hmph. I’m doing fine. Anyways, Y/N! I wanted to tell you that I can’t make it to tonights movie night” She said as she turned to you, a small frown forming on her face.

This made you sulk as you looked at her with puppy eyes. “Oh don’t do that sweetie...you know how stressful it’s been.” “I know I know. But it’s just... you never have time for me anymore...” Rosie couldn’t help but smile to herself. One thing that made this whole situation better was the fact that yours and Chichis relationship wasn’t the most stable at this time around. She was hoping you two would break up soon.

“I know sweetheart. The island rep work has just been a lot lately...” you let out a big sigh at this. “Okay, I get it...” in response to this, Chichi graced Y/N’s hand slightly. “But hey, I have time now. So why don’t we do something?” Y/N’s eyes lit up as she said this. And so, Chichi grabbed ahold of her partners hand and ran off. Just before the three departed, Rosie could swear she saw ChiChi shoot her a glare.

God she hated Chichi!!! Such a disgusting and hateful individual did not DESERVE to be with someone like you! She wish she could just disappear!!! Then she could have you for herself. Yeah. All to herself... with nothing to take you away from her...

“Why do you like her so much Y/N? She’s just so...annoying” Chichi told her you once you two were far away enough from Rosie. She had her arm wrapped around your waist as you were calmly walking throughout the island. You frowned at your girlfriend as she said this. “Chichi, we agreed on this. I would get to invite 3 villagers while you got to invite the other 7. Why do you have to question my choices? I don’t judge you for the islanders that you choose...” This statement made Chochi roll her eyes. “I’m not judging you Y/N. I’m just wondering what you find appealing with her. God you don’t need to be so dramatic.” You hated when she did this. She would always do stuff like this! She was always so insensitive to your feelings and every time you would bring this issue up with her she would ignore it. “I just like her okay! She’s really sweet and she’s given me more support then you’ve ever-“ You stopped yourself mid sentence, realising what you were saying. “What? What had she done Y/N?” Chichis voice was filled with spite. Your gaze was fixated to the ground, refusing to look into her eyes. “Look at me Y/N!” As she said this she grabbed ahold of your chin and forcefully yanked your head to her so that you would face her. “That’s better. Now, what did she do?” You were thrashing in your grip but it only tightened as you did this. “....nothing...she has done nothing for me...”

1 am. That’s how late Chichi stayed up to terraform the island that night. Rosie had to admit, she worked very hard on the island. Too bad after she’s done there would be no one left to terraform or decorate this place. As she approached, Chichi turned her head around to see who was there. “Oh...it’s you...what are you doing here?” She turned back around to her work, she was currently making a heart pond. “I wanted to discuss something with you.” When Rosie said this, Chichi let out an audible laugh. “Oh yeah? I don’t care what you have to say Rosie! I don’t care about you in the slightest.” Rosie walked closer to her, her face was dead serious. “It’s about Y/N.” This made Chichi stop what she was doing completely.

“....what about 'em” Rosie was now coming even closer, backing Chichi up into the two curves at the top of the heart, effectively trapping her. “I’m gonna cut to the chase Chichi.” As Rosie said this she put her hands in the pockets of her dress. “I know what you did to Y/N.” Chichis eyes went wide as her breath hitched up. “I...I haven’t done anything to-“ “bullshit! You know damn well what you did! I know what you did this afternoon, I know what you’ve done when you two were alone, or at least, when you thought you were alone...” Rosie was now coming even closer to the girl, and chichi was backing up slightly. Seemingly unsure of what the cat was doing. “I know every horrible thing you did to her...but like I said. Let me CUT-“

Chichi could feel a sharp pain in her chest, crimson red blood pouring out of the freshly formed wound. She wanted to scream but Rosie tackled her to the ground, or more accurately, half of her body to the ground. The upper part of her body was now under water as Rosie sat on the lower half of her body, forcing her head under water. Chichi thrashed and struggled, trying to get out. The heart ponds water was slowly becoming redder and redder as Chichis struggles became weaker and weaker. And after about one minute, the struggling stopped, just like the bubbles coming out from Chichi did. But Rosie was a careful cat. She made sure to give one or two extra stabs to the gut, not just to make sure she was dead, but truth be told, she was really enjoying it.

Now to get to work.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. That of course was your breathing pattern as you were sleeping. Rosie on the other hand was barely able to control her heavy breaths as she looked at your peaceful form. Not only because of how breathtaking you were but also because of the adrenaline that was still coursing through her veins. Maybe...maybe if she just. Rosie took her paw and stroked your cheek slightly, caressing it with her thumb and feeling her pulse slow down. That is. Until you started to let out a sting of groans and you opened your eyes slightly. It was still very dark and judging by the look of your face you might not have realised that it was Rosie.

“....Chichi? What are you doi-IMMHHPH!!!” Rosie has draped a cloth over your mouth. She knew that she had to do this, it was the one thing she came here to do. But she had her fun now, time to get to work. She pressed the cloth against your mouth and nose harder, you were struggling and panicking. Meaning you are going to breathe in more and more as you hyperventilate. Your eyes looked at hers as they filled with tears and pain. You probably thought she had betrayed you, that she was going to kill you or something. Silly you, of course she wouldn’t! She loved you! ...she had avoided doing something this drastic, she had hoped that you and Chichi would have broken up by now but you seemed to be to scared of her to do anything. And she simply could not let her sweet sweet baby go through any more abuse than they’ve already gone through. My god was it gonna be great to see your face when she showed you her surprise! Whether your screams would be of joy or horror, she was gonna get immense pleasure.

She had tried to act normal around you for so much time. She had tried to get a normal relationship with you. But temptation ate at her, it consumed all sense of logic or reason inside of her. Until all that was left was a hungry animal. A hungry animal that craved for one and only one thing.

You.

“Yoyhoo...time to wake up sweety...Y/N? Could you please open your eyes for me? Could you do that?” You heard a distance voice call out to you. Was that Rosie. You tried to open your eyes, slightly wincing at the newfound light that found its way into your vision. You tried to rub your eyes but once you lifted your arms you noticed two things. They felt heavier and they made a little jingle as you lifted them. What in gods name... you tried to force your eyes open only to feel something grab your cheek. It was a soft paw, stroking your left cheek slowly in a loving manner. After a few seconds you finally managed to open your eyes just to see Rosie, sitting besides you.

“Oh you’re awake now! Great!” She said as she clasped her hands together! Looking around your surroundings you quickly became horrified with what you saw. You were chained up in what appeared to be a basement of some sort. But the true horror was right in front of you. Rosie, the cat you loved so dearly, had blood all over her. And a deranged look in her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept in god knows how long and her breathing was very spastic. “R-Rosie?! What the hell are you doing?! Why am I here?! Who’s blood is that?!” You citied out, the strong feeling of dread growing stronger and stronger.

“Oh why my sweet little Y/N! You’re here because I’ve had enough. Enough of watching her abuse you! Enough of waiting by the sidelines! Enough of letting her play around with something that’s not hers...” Rosies voice got more and more serious as she spoke. Voice dripping with venom. She stared off at the wall for a few seconds before looking back to you. Her face now completely normal. “Oh! That reminds me! I almost forgot your gift!” Rosie said cheerfully as she hopped off into a different room for maybe about two minutes, leaving you all alone. You could feel yourself starting to hyperventilate. You had never told Rosie about what Chichi did to you, so how did she know?! Did she stalk you!? It could very well be possible since she kidnapped you!

But you didn’t get much time to think as you heard the sound of footsteps approach you. Rosie was now back in the room, holding a present box. It was wrapped in pink wrapping paper and a darker pink ribbon. Just like the one you gave her yesterday...Rosie looked at you with anticipation. “Go on open it!” You didn’t know what you should do...the present had an thick oozing smell lingering around you. It made you gag. It smelled like something and died in there. But with the last drop of courage left in your body, you took the present and started to unwrap it. God what a mistake that was. Once you opened the box you let out a scream and dropped the present on the floor. Out of the box, fell a heart, splatting in the ground as it let out a disgusting sound. You looked trembled at the horrific scene in front of you.

“What the fuck!” That was the only thing you could say. Rosies face turned from a happy excited smile to a sad and disappointed smile. “Do you not like it? But I spent so much effort carving it out for you! Whatever...maybe you’ll be happier to know who it belonged to.” Rosie said, walking closer to you. You backed up, trying to get away only to be met by the cold wall against your back. As Rosie leaned closer to you, you felt tears well up in your eyes simply because of the fear you felt. “Can you guess?” She asked, now a mere inches away from your face. “N-No...ple-ease...I don’t-“ “oh Y/N. It’s Chochis heart of course! When you gave me that bow I thought, how could I possibly repay you. And so I though, what better way then to give you my heart! Sadly, I can’t really do that, so I had to settle for the next best thing. Chichi! Now she’ll never lay a finger on you again.”

Your trembling was now growing more violent. What is wrong with this cat, no, this monster! She killed your girlfriend! Sure you hated Chichi down to your core but you didn’t want her to die!

“Why?” Why was the only question that came into your head. “Why me? Why her?! Why would you do this! What did I do to deserve this!?” Tears were now pouring out from your eyes. Rosie simply dishes you as she crawled you next to you, wrapping her arms around you. “Because I love you...I wanna spend my life with you Y/N. You don’t understand how unbearable life alone in the spotlight has been. I wanna share that spotlight with you by my side! Chichi was in the way. So I disposed of her. But you don’t have to worry about her...”

“You’ll never have to worry about her again”

[maaarine]

MBTI Typing Index: Names Q-T

Name starts with: A B, C D, E F,  G H, I J K L, M N O P, Q R S T, U V W X Y Z.

Christian QUESADA (ESTJ)

Sara QUIN (ENTP)

Tegan QUIN (ENTP)

Zoë QUINN (INFP)

Daniel RADCLIFFE (ENFP)

Dennis RADER (ISTJ)

Charlotte RAMPLING (INFJ)

Gordon RAMSAY (ESTJ)

Giuliana RANCIC (ESFJ)

Ayn RAND (ISTJ)

Megan RAPINOE (ESTP)

Naval RAVIKANT (INTJ)

Jeremy RENNER (ISTP)

Raphaëlle RICCI (INTJ)

Damien RICE (INFP)

Tim RICE-OXLEY (INFJ)

Keith RICHARDS (ESTP)

Jon RICHARDSON (INTJ)

Alan RICKMAN (INTJ)

Tom RIDGEWELL (ENTP)

Ransom RIGGS (INFP)

Rihanna / Robyn FENTY (ESTP)

Guy RITCHIE (ENTJ)

Joan RIVERS (ESFP)

Robert REDFORD (INFJ)

Vanessa REDGRAVE (INFJ)

Eddie REDMAYNE (INFP)

Norman REEDUS (ISFP)

Keanu REEVES (ISFP)

Ryan REYNOLDS (ENTP)

Trent REZNOR (INFP)

Shonda RHIMES (ENFJ)

Mel ROBBINS (ENTJ)

Michel ROCARD (ENTJ)

Dennis RODMAN (ESTP)

Olivia RODRIGO (ESFJ)

Michelle RODRIGUEZ (ESTP)

Joe ROGAN (ESTP)

Seth ROGEN (ENTP)

Fred ROGERS (INFP)

Maggie ROGERS (INFP)

Cristiano RONALDO (ESTP)

Mark RONSON (ISFP)

Sally ROONEY (INFJ)

Arden ROSE (ENFP)

Tracee Ellis ROSS (ENFP)

Eric ROTH (INFJ)

Philip ROTH (ENTP)

Kristen ROUPENIAN (ENFP)

Mickey ROURKE (ESTP)

Joanne K. ROWLING (INFJ)

Arundhati ROY (INFJ)

Mark RUFFALO (ISFP)

RuPaul / RuPaul CHARLES (ENFP)

Bertrand RUSSELL (ENTP)

Winona RYDER (INFP)

Mark RYLANCE (INFP)

Anna SACCONE JOLY (ISFJ)

Jonathan SACCONE JOLY (ESFP)

Oliver SACKS (INFP)

Sade / Sade ADU (ISFP)

Claire SAFFITZ (ENFJ)

Sebastião SALGADO (INFJ)

Jonas SALK (INTJ)

Sheryl SANDBERG (ENFJ)

Thomas SANDERS (ENFP)

Adam SANDLER (ESTP)

Susan SARANDON (ENFP)

Michel SARDOU (ESTJ)

Anita SARKEESIAN (ENFJ)

Nicolas SARKOZY (ESTJ)

Jean-Paul SARTRE (INTP)

Marjane SATRAPI (ENFP)

Reshma SAUJANI (ENFJ)

Adam SAVAGE (ENTP)

Antonin SCALIA (ESTJ)

Matthias SCHOENAERTS (ISTP)

Amy SCHUMER (ENFP)

Arnold SCHWARZENEGGER (ENTJ)

Andrew SCOTT (INFP)

Ridley SCOTT (ENTJ)

Roy SCRANTON (INTJ)

Roger SCRUTON (INTJ)

John SEARLE (ENTP)

Amy SEDARIS (ENFP)

David SEDARIS (INTP)

Jerry SEINFELD (ENTJ)

Jason SEGEL (ENFP)

Léa SEYDOUX (ISFP)

Elif SHAFAK (INFP)

Faiza SHAHEEN (ENFJ)

Yara SHAHIDI (ENFJ)

Shakira / Shakira RIPOLL (ESFJ)

Tupac SHAKUR (ENFP)

Michael SHANNON (ISTP)

Ben SHAPIRO (ESTJ)

Maria SHARAPOVA (ENTJ)

Robert SHEEHAN (ENFP)

Michael SHEEN (ENFP)

Judith SHEINDLIN (ESTJ)

Dax SHEPARD (ENTP)

Amy SHERMAN-PALLADINO (ENFP)

Kiernan SHIPKA (ESFJ)

David SHRIGLEY (INTP)

SIA / Sia FURLER (ENFP)

Daniel SIEGEL (INFJ)

Jason SILVA (ENFP)

Nate SILVER (INTP)

Sarah SILVERMAN (ENFP)

David SIMON (INFJ)

Paul SIMON (INFP)

Nina SIMONE (INFP)

O.J. SIMPSON (ESTP)

Lily SINGH (ENFP)

Tarsem SINGH (ENFP)

Troye SIVAN (ISFP)

Jojo SIWA (ESFP)

Jenny SLATE (ENFP)

Leïla SLIMANI (INFJ)

Jorja SMITH (ISFP)

Kiki SMITH (INFP)

Patti SMITH (INFP)

Sam SMITH (ESFP)

Will SMITH (ESFP)

Zadie SMITH (INFJ)

Edward SNOWDEN (INTJ)

Timothy SNYDER (INTJ)

Zack SNYDER (ESFP)

Salvador SOBRAL (INFP)

Steven SODERBERGH (ENTJ)

Soko / Stéphanie SOKOLINSKI (ENFP)

Solange / Solange KNOWLES (ISFP)

Rebecca SOLNIT (INFP)

Julien SOLOMITA (ESTP)

Stephen SONDHEIM (INTJ)

Susan SONTAG (INTJ)

Aaron SORKIN (INTP)

Sonia SOTOMAYOR (ENTJ)

Gareth SOUTHGATE (ISTJ)

Kevin SPACEY (ENTJ)

James SPADER (INTP)

Britney SPEARS (ISFJ)

Regina SPEKTOR (INFP)

Tori SPELLING (ISFJ)

Diana SPENCER (ISFP)

Steven SPIELBERG (INFP)

Baruch SPINOZA (INTP)

Bruce SPRINGSTEEN (ISFP)

Cole SPROUSE (ENTP)

St. Vincent / Annie CLARK (INFJ)

Lakeith STANFIELD (ISTP)

Joey STARR (ESTP)

Gwen STEFANI (ESFP)

Gloria STEINEM (ENTJ)

Amandla STENBERG (INFP)

Dan STEVENS (ENFJ)

Michael STEVENS (ENTP)

Sufjan STEVENS (INFJ)

Jon STEWART (ENTP)

Kristen STEWART (ISTP)

Martha STEWART (ENFJ)

Michael STIPE (INFP)

Emma STONE (ENFP)

Stormzy / Michael OMARI (ESFP)

Meryl STREEP (ENFJ)

Donna STRICKLAND (ENTJ)

Jeremy STRONG (INFP)

Bjarne STROUSTRUP (INTP)

Michael STUHLBARG (INFP)

Nicola STURGEON (ENTJ)

Tom STURRIDGE (INFP)

Harry STYLES (ESFP)

Zoe SUGG (ESFJ)

Taylor SWIFT (ESFJ)

Tilda SWINTON (INTP)

Kara SWISHER (ENTJ)

Omar SY (ESFP)

Oli SYKES (ISFP)

Wanda SYKES (ESFP)

Amber TAMBLYN (ENFP)

Tamino / Tamino FOUAD (ISFP)

Terence TAO (INTP)

Quentin TARANTINO (ENTP)

Donna TARTT (INFJ)

Elizabeth TAYLOR (ESFP)

Aaron TAYLOR-JOHNSON (ISFP)

Sam TAYLOR-JOHNSON (ISFP)

Tekashi69 / 6ix9ine / Daniel HERNANDEZ (ESTP)

Miles TELLER (ESTP)

David TENNANT (ENFP)

Nikola TESLA (INTP)

Virgil TEXAS (INTP)

Michelle THALLER (ENTP)

Margaret THATCHER (ESTJ)

The Weeknd / Abel TESFAYE (ISFP)

Charlize THERON (ENTJ)

Louis THEROUX (ENTP)

Peter THIEL (INTP)

Clarence THOMAS (ESTJ)

Kristin Scott THOMAS (ENTJ)

Emma THOMPSON (ENTP)

Maura TIERNEY (ISTP)

Meg TILLY (INFP)

Krista TIPPETT (INFJ)

Lily TOMLIN (ENTP)

Louis TOMLINSON (ENFP)

Giulio TONONI (INTJ)

Meghan TRAINOR (ESFP)

Joachim TRIER (ENFJ)

Donald TRUMP (ESTP)

Ivanka TRUMP (ISFJ)

Alan TUDYK (ENTP)

Cenzo TUIHANI (ISFP)

Alex TURNER (INTP)

Sophie TURNER (ESFP)

Tina TURNER (ESFP)

Jeff TWEEDY (INFP)

Liv TYLER (ISFP)

Name starts with: A B, C D, E F,  G H, I J K L, M N O P, Q R S T, U V W X Y Z.

[miss-authorcita]

We’re The Dreamers (Mark Cohen x Reader) PART 2

A/N: I know I've been away for too long, but I start college on October and it's been a crazy last few months of buying things, finding a place to live, preparing and hating that I'll have to say goodbye to my family.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of AIDs and death.

Part 1

_____

“We got power.” Mimi commented as she drank a glass of water in the kitchen.

“It’s a Christmas miracle” you exclaimed sarcastically as you threw your arms in the air and fell dramatically onto the couch.

Mimi laughed and picked up her coat while walking towards the window to the balcony.

“Where are you going?” you asked using your elbows to prop yourself up.

“I’m going to leave a message for guitar boy upstairs.” Mimi said nonchalant. You wouldn’t have it, you needed to know more.

“What kind of message?” you asked, delaying her mission once more.

“I’m inviting him to a holiday dinner.” Mimi smiled victoriously.

“Wow, just one problem…Hmm, what could that be? Oh! That’s right! Me!” You were being playful, and she knew it by the teasing glare she sent back. “Am I supposed to hide in my room?” you asked sitting up completely and looking at Mimi from across the couch.

“I’ll make it a lunch, that way you’ll be out at the support group.” Mimi offered as a solution.

You nodded but bit your lip, trying desperately not to express your thoughts. Mimi sighed exasperated and turned back towards you, her best friend.

“What?” she said exasperated.

“You should come with me to life support, Mims.” you spoke softly knowing how upset the topic made her.

“I’m fine. You’re all the support I need.” Mimi said strongly her voice edging on anger.

“Fine. I’m sorry. It’s Christmas let’s not fight. Okay?” you said, raising your hands up in surrender.

“I love you.” Mimi told you.

“Back at ya.” You shouted before flopping back down on the couch, you still had time to lounge around and be lazy before getting ready for Life Support.

The phone began to ring, and you groaned. You decided to screen the call and stay laying down. It was a lazy day for you.

“Leave a message!” The chorus voices of both Mimi and you were heard through the speaker of the phone.

“Y/N! It’s Frank! You better call me back! Come on, baby, it’s Christmas. Don’t you wanna be with me today? Stop with the games, girl. You’re mine, so call me back!” The gruff voice of your ex-boyfriend was heard through the machine. You gulped the lump that had built in your throat since his voice was heard through the speakers. The blood rushed out of your face and you tried to breathe properly.

“How does he have our number?” Mimi asked coming back and scaring you to death. You sat up instantly and held a hand over your raising heart.

“I-I-He just…” you stuttered your eyes watering.

“You gave it to him last week. Didn’t you?” Mimi asked and you wanted to cry even more for how unjudgmental Mimi sounded. The compassion was clear in her voice.

You could only nod as the tears began to fall and a loud sob escaped your lips. Mimi rushed to hug you and let you weep on her shoulder.

“Don’t answer the phone, okay? Just keep screening his calls. He’ll get tired.” Mimi advised you.

“I’m not going back to him.” You told her, your voice trembling but determined.

“I know, Y/N.” Mimi said with a genuine smile and hugged you again. You both stayed like that on the couch till it came time for you to get dressed and leave for Life Support.

You walked into the Ryder Community Center and quickly spotted Angel with her fabulous holiday outfit. She walked over to you with a smile and took you into her arms. Even though Frank had called, you refused to let him ruin your Christmas.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Angel greeted once she stepped away and shoved money into your hands. You stared at the bills in confusion before looking at Angel, she just winked. You laughed and stuffed the money into your old satchel.

“I’m not even going to ask.” You said with a laugh. “Nice to see you again, Collins.” You greeted once you noticed the tall man.

“Hey, Y/N.” He curtsied to you again remembering your first encounter. Your eyes widened in mock shock and bowed.

“No Mimi?” Angel asked looking around for the brunette.

“Not today. She has a date.” You teased and moved your eyebrows suggestively.

The leader called for everyone to take their seats. Angel kissed your hand and then took Collins’ to guide him to the chairs in the circle. You sat outside the circle where you could see everyone clearly.

“First I want to welcome you all. Why don’t we start by going around and introducing ourselves?” the leader commented.

One by one they all spoke their names. “Steve.” “Gordon.” “Ali.” “Pam.” “Sue.”

Angel took off her wig before introducing herself. “I’m Angel.”

“Tom…Collins.”

“I’m Paul.” Said the leader coming full circle.

You were so engrossed in the moment that you didn’t notice the new person on the row of chairs beside you till the clatter made everyone look towards him.

“Sorry. Excuse me.” The man you now recognized as the one you had crashed into the night before uttered awkwardly. You wanted to giggle at his clumsiness despite the seriousness of the meeting.

“And you are?” Paul, the leader, asked.

“Oh! I’m not—I don’t have—I’m here with—“ he stumbled across the whole explanation. You decided to help put him out of his misery and help out. It was clear as day he was a supporter, it kind of reminded you of the first time you came to a meeting.

“He’s another fellow supporter just like me. Just here to support our friends. As most of you know the two people I love most in this world are battling AIDS…I come here for them.” You intervened, the guy smiled gratefully. You noticed his eyes widened slightly when he gazed at your face. It was clear he had recognized you too.

Angel blew a kiss your way and you pretended to catch it in the air.

“Exactly. I’m…I’m Mark…I’m just here to um…does anyone have a problem if I film a little for a documentary?” He asked awkwardly. No one seemed bothered about being taped. The guy got more and more interesting.

“Make yourself comfortable, Mark.” Paul said before turning back to the circle. “Who wants to begin?”

“Psst.” You called Mark over who was winding up his camera. “Sit by me. The angles are better.” You offered not really knowing if it was true, but you were curious about the man and wanted him close.

“Oh! Alright. Thanks…Thank you.” Mark said as he took the chair next to you.

The meeting consisted of each of the members taking turns talking about their situations, their problems, the information they had. They spoke of anything that they wanted about their day to day lives. It never failed to warm your heart to see how people could have hope when facing such dire circumstances.

You swallowed hard and fought the tears that were gathering in your eyes. You noticed from the corner of your eye that Mark had turned to film you and you fought harder not to cry on camera but when they began to sing you couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

There’s only us.

There’s only this.

Forget regret

Or life is yours to miss

No other road

No other way

No day but today

Tags: @usernamecopied707

[themomsandthecity]

Every Baby Name We Could Possibly Think Of

Naming your baby is a big decision, and with endless options, it can also be a difficult one. Whether you're going the traditional route or want something more unique (if so, read this first!) it's helpful to have a little, or a lot, of inspiration. Ahead, you'll find nearly every baby name we could think of (close to 1,000!). These aren't just random names we found in a book or concocted ourselves - they're almost all monikers we've heard being used, or we actually know someone who goes by the name. If we missed any, tell us in the comments! A Aaliyah Aaron Abbie Abel Abigail Abraham Adalyn Adam Addilyn Addison Adelaide Adeline Adley Adora Agatha Aiden Alan Albert Aleph Alexander Alexis Ali Alma Alton Ama Amanda Amaryllis Amber Ameila Amélie Amy Anders Anderson Andrea Andrew Angie Angela Angelica Anika Anna Annalise Anne Annie Ansel Apple April Arata Archie Aria Ariane Ariel Arlee Arlo Arman Arthur Arun Arwen Arya Asha Asher Aspen Atticus Aton Aubrey Audrey August Augustus Aurora Ava Avery Axel Aziz B Bailey Barack Barbara Barney Barry Beatrice Beau Beckett Beckham Becky Ben Benedict Benjamin Bennett Bentley Bernadette Beth Bette Betty Beverly Bexley Bianca Bill Billie Bingham Bishop Bitsie Blake Blue Bobby Bodhi Bonnie Bowie Brady Braelynn Brandon Brayden Brecken Bree Brent Brenton Brett Brian Briana Briar Bridgette Brienne Brig Brigham Brinley Brio Britta Brock Brody Bronwyn Brooklyn Bruno Bryan Byron C Caden Caitlin Caity Cale Caleb Calla Calvin Camari Cameron Camilla Carena Carina Carl Carmel Carol Carrey Carter Cary Casey Caspian Cat Catherine Celine Chandler Chanel Channing Charise Charlene Charles Charlotte Chase Cher Cheri Cheriann Cheryl Chevy Chip Chloe Chris Chrissy Christian Christopher Claire Clara Clark Clary Claudia Clementine Clifford Clint Clinton Clyde Colin Collins Condoleezza Connor Conrad Constance Coolidge Cooper Cora Corban Courtney Cruz Related: 100 of the Most Beautiful Baby Names D Daisy Dale Dallas Damon Dane Danica Daniel Danielle Daphne Darby Darlene Darrel Daryl Dashiell Dave David Davina Davis Davon Dawn Dean Deanna Declan Dekel Delaney Delilah Delta Dennis Denzel Desmond Dev Devon Dexter Diane Dinah Dixie Dixon Dolores Dominique Donald Doris Dorothea Dorothy Dot Duke Duncan Dwight Dylan E Easton Ed Eden Edith Edmund Edward Effie Eleanor Elena Eli Eliana Elijah Elise Elizabeth Ella Elle Ellen Ellerie Ellie Elliott Ellis Elodie Eloise Elora Elroy Elsa Elsie Embry Emerson Emily Emma Emmett Eric Erica Esme Esmeralda Esther Ethan Ethel Eugene Evan Eve Evelyn Everett Evie Ewan Ezra F Farah Fay Felix Ferris Finn Fiona Fisher Fitz Fleur Flint Florence Floyd Flynn Ford Forrest Foster Fox Frances Frank Franklin Frederick G Gabe Gabriel Gaige Gail Gant Garrett Garth Gavin Gem Gemma Gene Genesis Gertrude George Gianna Gibson Gigi Gina Ginger Gladys Glenn Gloria Gordon Grace Grady Graham Grant Grayson Greer Gregory Griffin Grover Gus Gwen Gwyneth H Hadlee Hailey Hal Halle Hank Hannah Harding Harlow Harlyn Harold Harper Harriet Harrison Harry Hart Hartley Harvey Haven Hawk Hawthorne Hayden Hayes Hays Hazel Hector Heath Heather Helen Henley Henry Hillary Honor Holden Holly Holt Hope Hubert Hudson Hugo Humphrey Hunter Hurley Hutton Related: Based Off Last Year's Trends, These 30 Names Will Be Among the Most Popular of 2017 I Ian Ida Idris Ike Imanuel Imogen India Indy Ingrid Inizio Ireland Iris Irvin Isa Isaac Isabella Isabelle Isaiah Isla Israel Ivana Ivory J Jack Jackie Jackson Jacob Jacqueline Jaden Jaelyn Jagger Jake James Jameson Jamie Jane January Jason Jasper Jaun Jax Jaxon Jayce Jayden Jeannette Jed Jeff Jefferson Jenna Jess Jessica Jessie Jill Jillian Joan Joanna Joaquin Joe John Jones Jordan Joseph Josephine Josh Joshua Joslyn Joss Joy Joyce Judith Judy Jules Julia Julian Julie Juliet Julius June Juno Justin K Kai Kaia Kale Kalinda Kane Karah Katharine Kathryn Kate Kay Kaya Kaylee Keanu Keegan Keira Keith Kellan Kelly Kelsey Kendall Kennedy Kevin Khloe Kiah Kiele Kiera Kim Kima Kimberly Kingston Kinsley Kirk Kit Kitty Knox Krista Kristen Kurtis Kyle Kylie L Laith Lake Lana Landon Lane Larissa Larkin Laszlo Laura Lauren Lawrence Layla Leah Lee Leia Leighton Leilani Lena Lennon Leo Leonard Leslie Levi Lewis Leyona Lia Liam Liana Lida Lilith Lillian Lily Lincoln Lindsay Lionel Lisa Lisette Liz Logan Lois Lola London Loretta Lorraine Louella Louise Lucas Lucian Lucille Lucy Luke Luna Lux Lyle Lyndon Lynne Related: 100 Unusual Boy Names M Mabel Mabrey Mac Macallan Mackenzie Macy Madeleine Madelyn Madison Mae Maeby Maggie Mahershala Maia Makena Malcolm Maleeya Malia Mamie Mandy Marabelle Marcus Maren Margaret Margot Mari Maria Mariah Mariam Marilyn Marin Marion Marisole Marisse Marjorie Mark Marlene Marlon Marlowe Martha Martin Mary Mason Matilda Matthew Maui Mavis Maximus Maxson May Maya McKinley Megan Melissa Meredith Merritt Meryl Meyer Mia Michael Michelle Mika Mike Mila Mildred Miles Millie Milo Moana Molly Monica Monroe Montgomery Morgan Moses Muhammad Murray Myles N Nahall Nahla Nancy Nanette Naomie Nasima Natalie Nate Nathan Naveen Naya Neil Neisa Neo Neoma Newt Newton Niall Nicholas Nick Nico Nicole Nicolette Nigel Nile Nimah Nixon Noah Noel Nolan Nora Norma Norman North Nova O Obama Octavia Olly Olive Oliver Olivia Omar Opal Ophelia Ordell Oriana Orion Orlando Orson Orville Oscar Otis Otto Owen P Paige Paislee Paloma Pandora Paris Parker Patrick Patsy Paul Payton Pearl Peggy Penelope Penn Penny Perry Pete Peyton Phillip Phoebe Phoenix Phyllis Pierce Piper Polly Poppy Porter Posey Preston Primrose Priya Prudence Priscilla Q Quaid Quincy Quentin Quinn Quinten R Rachel Radley Rae Ralph Ramsey Rayna Rayne Reagan Rebecca Reese Reeve Reid Reign Remi Renly Rex Rhea Rhett Rhys Richard Rick Riley Ripley River Rivers Rob Robert Robin Rome Romy Ronald Ronin Rooney Roosevelt Rory Rosalind Rosalynn Rosamund Rose Rosemary Ross Rowan Roy Royce Ruby Rue Ruth Rutherford Ryan Ryder Related: 100 Unique Yet Beautiful Girls' Names S Sacha Sage Sahara Saint Sam Samuel Sandra Sandy Sansa Sarah Saul Savannah Sawyer Scarlett Schuyler Scout Sean Sebastian Selena Sena Seymour Shane Shannon Shea Shelly Sherlock Sherry Shiloh Shirley Sia Sidney Sienna Simon Skyler Sloan Sofia Solo Sonia Sophia Sophie Spencer Stacy Stanley Stella Stephanie Sterling Stetson Stuart Sue Sullivan Summer Suri Susan Sylvia T Tabitha Tad Tamera Tamsyn Tanner Tara Tate Taylor Teagan Teddy Terrance Thea Thelma Theordore Theresa Thomas Tim Tina Tinley Toby Todd Tom Tony Travis Travon Trent Trey Tricia Trinity Tripp Tristan Troy Truman Turner Tyler Tyson V Valentina Valentine Vance Vaughan Vaughn Vera Vern Victor Victoria Viggo Vince Vincent Viola Violet Virgil Vivian W Waldo Walker Wallis Walter Warren Watson Waverly Wells Wes Wesley Westley Whitney Will Willa William Willow Wilson Winter Wolfe Wren Wyatt X Xander Xavier Xeno Y Yanet Yani Yigal York Yuma Yvette Z Zachary Zahir Zander Zane Zaylee Zayn Zion Zoe Zola Zooey Zora Zuma Zuri Related: These Are the Most Popular Baby Names of 2016 http://bit.ly/2kR9iwY

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: You're Tom's makeup artist for a movie he's shooting and you absolutely hate him. However, one round of karaoke later, your feelings temporarily shift.

Genre: Fluff, smidge of angst, Enemies to Lovers (very one-sided lmao)

Warnings: Tom is a stupid asshole (but he's also just a mess), swearing, reader is described as shorter than Tom, light misogyny, slapping, alcohol, being drunk/high.

TOM RYDER MASTERLIST

The bar is dimly lit and the loud music resounds in your ear as your knee bounces. You stir the straw around your drink, sighing as you turn to Vanessa, your co-worker. "He left me another post-it note on the desk yesterday telling me he wants a new lip oil because his now tastes weird!? His last one is only from last week and it's the same brand he always uses! I'm so sick of his bullshit, V," you drop your head in your arms and then peek up at Vanessa again, "He's such a dick."

Vanessa laughs, sipping on her margarita, as she shrugs, "Didn't you know that when you took the job, honey?"

"I mean, sure. But those could have been rumors," you pout and sit up, moving some hair behind your ear as you look around the room, where other crew members have gathered around the karaoke machine.

"Listen, don't think about Tom Ryder. You're off the clock and everyone knows he's a world-class asshole—a pretty world-class asshole, I will let him have that," Vanessa hums and also turns her attention to the rest of your friends and co-workers as she claps her hands. 

You look down at your drink, your cheeks feeling warmer than usual. Not thinking about Tom Ryder was easier said than done when you had to work on his face 5 days a week. He was so infuriating most times, either talking down to you when you worked or wouldn't cooperate with anything you told him to do because he was on his phone. Sometimes he really makes you want to stab the mascara stick into his eye. 

Still, you can't deny he's extremely handsome and that just annoys you more. 

Suddenly, you hear a bunch of cheers and hoots from outside, directly accompanied by the sound of the door slamming open. When you hear an all too familiar voice, your eyes widen and you snap around to make sure you hadn't just imagined it. 

Tom Ryder coming to one of the crew parties? No fucking way. Obviously, he's always invited to them but in a very arrogant fashion he never shows up—which is one of the reasons you do, because he never does. 

Only this time he did and he's not alone. 

Tom is dressed in another one of his boisterous outfits, his shirt loosely unbuttoned to reveal his chest and a peak of his toned abs. Pink-tinted sunglasses sit on his nose and his dirty blond hair curls messily around his face.

He looks drunk, or high, when he walks in and you can't tell which one it is because he's constantly moving and laughing. He's accompanied by a few other low A-list actor friends he has and a pretty blond model hangs on his arm, her giggles instantly infuriating you. 

How can she stand to be near him for more than a minute? Even less hold his arm and be his eye-candy? 

You turn back around, desperately attempting to calm the bile rising in your throat. God, you hate him. You feel even worse when he leans beside you at the bar and orders a drink from the bartender, snapping his fingers as he does. He doesn't even address your presence beside him and your blood boils. 

Your anger immediately turns to disgust when you hear the man hosting the karaoke scream out Tom Ryder's name.

"Tom Ryder everyone! I loved your new movie, man, it was awesome! How about a song?" the man asks, eyebrows wiggling as the crew clap (mostly out of politeness) and his friends make loud, drunken noises like a bunch of animals. 

"C'mon! One song—for all the pretty ladies in the crowd!"

Tom seems intrigued when the man mentions the girls. You roll your eyes and your hand tightens around your glass as he walks up to the host, raising his hands in surrender and feigning humbleness. "Alright, alright, I have to give the ladies what they want, don't I?" Tom boasts, winking at one of the camera girls he never looks at otherwise. 

Someone put you out of your misery now.

The host seems ecstatic to have someone this famous next to him and asks Tom for a quick photo, which Tom obviously doesn't turn down. You pretend to gag when Vanessa turns to look at you and smirks at Tom's behavior.. 

"How about a duet, Ryder?" The host asks as he hands him the mic. 

"Nah, I usually sing solo," Tom says, his words slightly slurred, and then he leans in to whisper something in the host's ear—which probably goes something like, "Unless she's got a nice rack, then by all means invite her up here." 

You lean in and whisper into Vanessa's ear, "Ten bucks he takes home the girl he ends up singing with," you say with a frown, your voice a little strained. Vanessa laughs and then the worst thing happens.

"You," the host shouts and you look up alarmed. Your eyes are wide when you realize everyone, including Tom, is staring at you. "The angry-looking girl in the back. Why don't you come up and join him? I doubt he'd bite." 

Laughter, including some nervous ones from your friends, resounds around the room as Tom's smirk widens. You'd be surprised, you think. You find your voice again and say, "Um, can't you ask one of them?" you point to the group of eager fangirls swarming around the small stage as they ogle Tom. 

"C'mon, sweetheart," Tom slurs, squinting at you, "One song won't kill you." 

But you might just kill him.

Vanessa, the traitor, nudges you again and you stumble from the stool. You glare at her but when all your friends, including Tom's more obnoxious friends, chant encouragements you feel completely trapped. 

The walk to the small stage feels eerily similar to a walk of shame as you look to your co-workers in hopes someone will save you. No one does and you ignore the stares from all the girls who wish they could take your place. 

You're blinded by the lights as you step on the stage and approach the host. "Atta girl," the man smirks patronizingly as he hands you the second mic. You scrunch your nose at him and then look up at Tom, expecting him to be ignoring you like he usually is, but instead, he's staring. 

His cheeks are pink from being intoxicated and he tilts his head, watching you clutch the mic nervously. 

The host doesn't warn you when the song begins to play and he walks away. You realize too late you and Tom are now alone and everyone is watching you as dread slowly fills your stomach. 

You don't even know how to sing! This is so humiliating. 

 The familiar melody of, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart," fills the air and you feel the heat rise in your chest and up to your ears. Your heart is pounding so loudly you can only faintly hear Tom start to sing the song. He sounds fairly good and you aren't surprised considering he's an actor. 

Your voice catches in your throat and you feel tears rise. You don't sing when it's your turn and the crowd is silent. 

Suddenly, you jump when you feel a strong hand on your hip and you snap your head around to look at him. Your hand finds Tom's hand immediately, gripping it, and just as you're about to pull it away, he leans in and whispers, hot against your ear, "Baby doll, you're making me look bad," he states, his tone as condescending as it always is, and your heart does a somersault in your chest.

He looks down at you this time, his blue eyes lock with yours for a moment and his hand falters on your hip. For an actor, Tom Ryder has surprisingly no poker face because when he sees your distressed state, his demeanor shifts, and instead of frustration, he takes on a different approach.   

He takes your hand, suddenly twirling you around and you make a small sound as you stumble. It's been a few seconds since anyone has sung the song, so he sings again and this time, his eyes stay on yours as he sings your lyrics.

"You know this," he mouths, encouraging you as he does this weird, clearly drunk-induced shimmy that makes you laugh despite your better judgment. He points to the small screen where the lyrics are displayed.

You take a breath and then sing, focusing on him instead of the crowd and your head feels light. You would have never guessed there would be a day when you'd find comfort in Tom Ryder. Your friends clap with amusement and laughter swirls around the bar as you both continue to sing and dance. 

Occasionally, Tom will pull you in closer but you'll move away, flustered, and when the song finally ends, you move back and almost trip on the mic's cord. 

With a gasp, you expect to fall flat on your ass but instead, Tom wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as your palms press on his chest. You're breathing heavily and so is he, his hand is still on your back as his eyes roam over all your features until you push him away and walk down the small stairs and back to the ground where all your friends are whispering and clapping. 

You feel like you can't breathe, your heart beating so quickly. You mumble a quick "excuse me" to Vanessa, snatch your purse from the bar counter, and open the door to outside. The cool air calms your burning skin and you lean against the building. 

What the fuck was that? Why was he looking at you like that? 

"You know, it's normal to be nervous around someone like me," Tom's voice interrupts your panic and you spin around, not expecting to see him. "But running from me? Now, darling, that's truly a first," he finishes with a chuckle and an obnoxious smirk. 

"You're so full of yourself," you whisper automatically but then your eyes round as if you've realized what you'd said. 

Tom looks surprised but he also remains cool as he strokes a hand down his jaw and puts it on his hip. "Mm, I assume you're not a fan then." 

You cross your arms and look anywhere but directly at him because fuck, why did someone so incredibly stupid and pretentious have to be so darn hot? "You could say that, sure," you shrug. "Not everyone likes you, Tom Ryder." You shut yourself up as soon as the words leave your mouth. This isn't exactly something you should say to someone who you work with.

However, Tom's expression sours and he lifts his eyebrow. "You don't like me?"

You turn to him, eyes locking with him this time. "That isn't what I said."

Tom's eyebrows crease and he squints at you, removing his stupid sunglasses and they push back his blond hair. "You're confusing me." He sounds genuine. 

You can't help but chuckle at his idiocy and surprisingly for you, your laughter makes him smile. He leans in and you lean away, eyes round when you realize how close he's becoming. "You have such a sexy laugh," he says cockily, "Bet I can make you do it again."

You hate to admit this but your heart does flutter at his words. Can anyone really blame you? It's Tom. Fucking. Ryder. You try to remind yourself how much of a dick he is—and always has been—but as you look into the blue of his eyes, his reassuring touch burns imprints on your skin and you feel dizzy. 

Shit. 

"You look familiar," Tom straightens himself, "Have I seen you somewhere? You been in any magazines? You certainly have the look."

You ignore the so-called complement and stare at him. He has to be kidding. You've been doing his makeup for over six months now and he supposedly sees you almost every day. You worked on his face every single day—how could he not recognize you? You open your mouth to ask if this is a joke but he interrupts you.

"Seriously, I must know you from somewhere. Gimme a hint, baby,"

Your stomach sinks and you feel so so stupid. Tom doesn't sense your shift as he's still focused on whatever fleeting emotion may have been between you before as his hand finds your hip. 

Instantly, your palm connects with his cheek, and the sound cracks into the air. "Don't touch me," you say harshly, ignoring how shaky your voice is.

Tom looks at you, his hand over his bruised cheek, "You hit me?!" he says in disbelief, "What the fu—" 

You don't stick around to hear his whining as you turn around and run from him. 

Again. 

"Hey–wait!" you hear Tom's shout but why would you turn around now? Tears of frustration brim your eyes as you hastily walk down the empty sidewalk.

There is no way you're fucking crying over Tom fucking Ryder right now, you tell yourself and pinch the inside of your eyes. 

No way. 

You ignore Vanessa's incessant calling and her worried texts when you arrive at your apartment. You scream in frustration, throwing your heels across the room and scaring your poor cat, Pumpkin, as she sprints into the living room, her claws against the floorboards.

Quickly, you follow her and scoop her into your arms, "'M sorry, baby," you coo and nuzzle your nose into her fur. "I'm sorry Mommy scared you."

You hear Vanessa's fifth call from your purse but you're too exhausted to deal with her and the fallout from what had happened tonight, so instead you sit on the couch and cuddle with Pumpkin, scratching behind her ears. 

* * * 

When you pull into the parking lot of the new set the next morning, you haven't slept well and you feel like shit—it doesn't help that they're filming outside today, in the summer heat, and grainy sand infiltrates into your Converse. 

You groan as you walk over to the makeup trailer and see Vanessa waiting for you. You almost called in sick this morning until you realized how guilty that would make you look, so you sucked it up. 

"Y/n?!" Vanessa shrieks and pulls you behind the trailer. "Where have you been?! I've called you a hundred times, why haven't you answered any of them? I was worried Ryder somehow took you home and that I'd lost 10 bucks—" 

"Gross, why would you think that?" you say with disgust as if you weren't surprised to hear that after you left Tom hadn't returned to the bar. 

"I mean, for one, Ryder was missing and no one knew where he went. And second, are you shitting me? Girl, the tension was more than palpable! You were practically dry-humping Tom Ryder in front of everyone!" 

You feel like someone has just punched you in the stomach and your voice comes out high and nervous when you exclaim, "I was not! It wasn't like that, V! Is that what everyone thinks?" Vanessa nods as an answer and you want to scream. 

"I swear, I- nothing happened—even outside—I- funny story I slapped him because he's a jerk and I- I don't like him!" you ramble and your heart thumps quicker when Vanessa looks behind you and her mouth curls into a devious smirk.

"Don't look now, sweetie, but your boyfriend just arrived," she pauses and checks her watch, "An hour late. As usual." Vanessa looks you dead in the eyes and then she teases, "Chop chop, time to put makeup on your man." 

Your eyes widen and you pull Vanessa further behind the trailer so Tom won't see you or her. You hold her shoulders. "Please switch with me for today. He won't even notice the difference, and Allie doesn't need to have her makeup done until noon so that way I don't have to see him! Please, V, I'll do anything!" 

Vanessa crosses her arms, "Nothing happened with him, hm?"

You look at her, your eyes round and pleading, "Please."

"Fine, but you're paying for my lunch later," she says and taps your nose, "and giving me a detailed rundown on what happened with Ryder."

You nod reluctantly, whispering a small thank you under your breath as she turns to walk into the makeup trailer behind Tom. You let out a breath, leaning against the trailer. You know you'll have to face him at some point—just not now.

The day drags on and on as the heat is becoming almost unbearable. You stand to the side, your makeup kit secured to your hip as you watch the scene from under a tent. It's another action sequence and it's very obvious Tom's makeup is fading from the warmth and his sweat. 

Shit, you realize, he needs a touch-up. Vanessa didn't use the correct primer. 

You look around, hoping to see Vanessa and tell her Ryder needs a touch but the director's voice cuts in and you tense, "Cut! Someone come to fix his face!" Jody turns to you, her eyes kind as her voice becomes a little less stressed when she sees you're prepared for this, "Can you fix his makeup?" 

Shit, shit, shit. 

This is your job, you can't say no so you walk out onto the set where Tom is leaning against a prop rock. He straightens himself and when he turns, he doesn't have the chance to process your presence as you guide him down and fumble with your kit. 

He's taller than you so he's leaning down so you can fix him up properly. You put your hand on his jaw, near his ear, to steady him as you touch up under his eyes and near his cheekbones. 

He's staring at you and you know he recognizes you this time, his blue eyes wide and puppy-like. 

Silently, you add some powder on his cheeks and nose so the product sticks better this time and when you let him go, Tom opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head no, and then you turn your head and hurry back behind the camera. 

Your ears are burning from embarrassment as you walk directly to the makeup trailer, without looking back at anyone. 

You've barely closed the door when it slams open and you scream. You spin around just as someone tries to hold onto your arm and on instinct you grab the hairspray that's in your kit and spray it directly into… Tom's eyes. 

He screams too, his voice high-pitched and very un-sexy, as he clutches his eyes. Seeing him only causes you to scream again. "Ryder?!" you exclaim and immediately take his arm, pulling him inside the trailer as he wails like a child and rubs at his eyes. 

You slap his hands away and push him down under the faucet, pouring water into his eyes and in the process drenching his blond hair and ruining his mascara. 

"Fuck," he groans as he sputters out water as he jerks away from you. You move closer to him and without thinking hold both of his cheeks in your hands, looking directly into his, now slightly irritated, eyes. 

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, clearly concerned. 

Tom rests his hands on yours and pulls them away, "What do you think?" he groans and blinks a few times. "You're the girl—" he mutters and pinches his nose, "at karaoke. I remember you now."

You realize how close you are to him now and, overwhelmed, you step back. "Lucky me," you mumble sarcastically and take his arm, pulling him to one of the seats. "I have to fix your face again or someone is gonna fire me." 

He's weirdly docile as he looks at your work as you dry his hair. Once you're done, he speaks up, "Why'd you run from me? I mean, c'mon, the way you looked at me with those fuck-me eyes—" 

Tom has no shame and of course, he wouldn't. He's probably never really been rejected in his entire life and women have most likely let him speak to them like this. You pause and pull his chin harder so he's looking at you as you continue with his mascara. 

"Tell me honestly Ryder, do you even hear yourself when you speak?" you ask, your voice strained. 

"What?" Tom asks, sounding genuinely confused. 

"You're an asshole. That's why I ran from you." You drop his chin and your word vomit comes out without you being able to help it as you cross your arms, "I mean—I have been doing your makeup for months! And you've only ever left me your stupid post-it notes when you have a demand! No "Hi," "Good morning," "How are you?" No. Nothing like that. And I tried! I really tried in the beginning because like everyone else on this fucked up planet I thought you were awesome."

Tom opens his mouth to make a snide comment but you instantly press your finger to his lips. 

"I really thought, "I'm so lucky to be Tom Ryder's makeup artist!" and then I found out Tom Ryder is a shit person that doesn't—"  

"I'm not a shit person," Tom deadpans and stares at you as if your words have hurt him. 

You tilt your head and drop your arms to your side. You don't even know what to say to him anymore. 

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I made you feel shitty, okay?" Tom defends and his cheeks are pink, "I just—I am really bad with faces—and I-I was completely shit-faced and high on–" 

He pauses, stands, and wraps his hand around your jaw, his thumb stroking your bare cheek as your eyes widen and you tense. Something about his charm makes it impossible for you to move and because his touch is gentle, you aren't too worried. For now. "'M sorry. I am. Can't we call it even since you hit me and sprayed me in the face with whatever that fucking was?!"

He continues, "—listen, I liked karaoke with you and I was shit-faced so I know I must have been a dick."

"You're always a dick, Ryder," you comment, your tone less mad than earlier.   

"Then, you don't know me very well," Tom shrugs, "or like at all." 

"So—you're saying all this dick-ishness is a persona?" You sound very skeptical and Tom just shrugs as his thumb strokes over your skin once more and then he drops his hand, putting some distance between you and him. 

"No. Not entirely. But, you know, that doesn't mean I'm incapable of genuine feelings, Y/n."

You're surprised when you hear your name fall from his lips. Tom sees your expression and another one of his smirks curls at his lips, "As I said, I remember you now. Always did—my hot makeup artist—ask anyone—ask Gail, I mention you a lot. I was just hammered, you know? High out my mind—and it heightened all my fucking senses that I couldn't get your laugh out my head for hours." 

"If you're joking," you say and glare at him, "it isn't funny." 

Tom puts a hand on his heart dramatically, "'M not. Scouts fucking honor." 

You look at him and for once, you can't read him. "Well, either way, that doesn't change how much of an asshole you've been to me. You never said "hi" but you told Gail about me? Sorry, but that doesn't impress me."

You walk up to him and tilt his head using his chin, examining his make-up once more, and then you take his arm and try to pull him out of the trailer, "Now, c'mon, you have a job to do—go do it," you hiss.

"But—" 

"No," you start but he won't move. He turns around and stares at you. Fuck, he's strong. "Why won't you leave?" you ask, breathless as you step away from him. 

"Do you hate me so much that you won't even consider that I genuinely find you interesting?" he asks with a hint of insecurity in his voice again. "That I liked spending time with you and I think you're pretty."  

Your chest tightens and you sigh, "I- I don't know," you admit and you look up at him. You can't deny that your feelings have shifted and a little voice in your head screams that this is a trap and he'll eventually break your heart. 

"Here," Tom fumbles with the pants of his costume and pulls out a pen and a post-it note. 

"You seriously just carry those on you?" you crack a smile, finding that weirdly endearing. 

Idiot. 

"Yeah," Tom says like it's the most normal thing ever and then he writes down something on the paper. When he hands it to you it's the name of a restaurant. You frown, it's your favorite restaurant. He'd written a time beside the name. 

"How do you know this is my favorite restaurant?" you ask. 

Tom looks up, his smirk turning into a smile. "I didn't—it's mine."

Your frown deepens, "Hm, I didn't take you for a low-priced family-run Chinese restaurant kinda guy—don't you have a personal chef or something," you say and look at the time he's written down, "What is this anyway?" 

Tom shrugs and adjusts his hair. "I do but I like this place. The family who owns it never tells anyone I've been there, it gives me some privacy," he sounds serious and he walks closer to you, "Don't tell anyone, it might ruin my reputation and then your favorite restaurant might be swarmed by a bunch of fangirls," he smirks, pleased with himself. 

You can't help but chuckle. 

"And this," he points to the time, "is where I'll be tomorrow evening if you'd like to join me," he says nonchalantly and then opens the trailer door. Just as he does, he takes his phone and takes a picture of the time so he remembers it and he sends you a wink. "I won't wait long but if you do come, it's on me." 

You stare at the paper and realize Tom Ryder has just asked you on a date. You look up but he's gone and your heart does about ten thousand summersaults as your brain screams in agony. Your cheeks feel warm as you fold the paper up and put it in the pocket of your jeans. 

You're so very screwed.

You hear a ding and then a text from Vanessa saying, "Ryder's mic was on—crew heard absolutely everything—we didn't wanna interrupt your moment," she adds a mocking winking emoji but you don't care. 

That's the least of your worries now that you have a date with Tom Ryder.

[lost-pen-name]

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: Tom invited you to be his plus-one at a party with him. His friends are there along with a handful of your coworkers. Parties aren’t really your ideal pastimes (small talk, loud crowds, yuck) but you went anyway because maybe this one will be different. It wasn’t. Your introvert side kicks into gear after you lose track of Tom and make several terrible attempts at small talk. You escape the throngs of people and hide in the best place you could find: the grungy bathroom.

Word count: 2320

Warnings: mild spice, kissing

Author note: This was one of THE most fun fics I’ve ever written. 🙈 I was lowkey giddy the entire time. 😍 I hope you enjoy it just as much! ❤️

{ kiss me when nobody’s watching }

You startled at the sound of someone rapping their knuckles on the door.

“Hey, you in here?” Tom’s voice is muffled but you can tell it’s him.

“Go away, I’m not here,” you said as you took a step closer to the door. You pressed your forehead against it, the cool wood soothing the start of a headache. “Please leave, Tom.” You’re really starting to feel like Elsa from Frozen but there is zero chances he’s about to ask you to build a snowman with him.

“What, you scared of socializing?” You can just see the big dumb grin on his face. It’s that grin that makes you simultaneously want to slap the daylights out of him and kiss him until he saw stars.

Right now, it was definitely the first.

“No. I just want to go home.” You thumped your head on the door. It didn’t help the headache but it did help release some of the pent up frustration. “Whatever, just leave it. Go back to your party. Have fun without me, I know that’s very possible.”

It’s quiet for a few heartbeats. You held your breath and waited. Maybe he actually left? That’d be a miracle, he doesn’t typically listen to your requests. At least, not the first time you ask.

“No, I don’t want to.” Is he pouting?

“Ugh, Tom, please stop being so stubborn for one moment and go back.” No response. “I’ll be fine up here, I swear.” Maybe he’s worried about you? Highly unlikely but still.

“Can you just open the door so we can talk like normal humans? I can barely even hear you,” he whined.

You groaned. You hit your head on the door a few more times for good measure before reaching for the doorknob and opening the door an inch. The hallway was dark. With the faint glow coming from downstairs, you can make out Tom leaning against the wall by the door. He’s looking at his hands, using his thumbnail to clean out his other nails. He immediately straightened at the sound of the door being pushed open. You aren’t ready for the direct eye contact he made as he stood in front of you. His stormy eyes made your heart do acrobatics. You clenched your hands. He always seemed to have this effect on you just by standing close.

“Want to tell me why you’re hiding all the way up here?” He gestured around at the small bathroom.

You frowned. “Can’t a girl have a bathroom break?”

“Well, yeah,” he said as he pushed his way further into the room. Your eyes widened and you took a step back. “But you didn’t sound like you were going to come back down. Why?” Another step forward. Now he’s past the doorway, you and him almost standing body-to-body, leaning over you slightly.

You have got to look away from those heavy-lidded eyes. They’re making your thoughts lose motivation to stay afloat and drowning in those crashing waves was getting harder to fight. Your gaze moved down. Now you were counting the three buttons his shirt had undone and noticing how the fine hair on his chest was damp with sweat. Maybe looking here wasn’t much better but anything’s better than trying to think under that crushing gaze. “I don’t see how this matters.”

“Yes, it does. I invited you.” He pointed at himself. “And I want to know.”

“I just don’t like parties!” You threw your hands in the air. “There, satisfied?”

His gaze darkened. “Then why did you come?”

“Because, idiot, you invited me! And I wanted to come with you! I wanted to be with you. But now I’m chickening out and hiding up here and away from awkward small talk.” You let out a breath and looked back up at Tom. “Satisfied?”

He clenched his jaw and relaxed it. A tick he did when he was thinking. “You could’ve said you didn’t want us to go.”

You let out a sharp laugh. “As if that would’ve made a difference. I don’t have that kind of effect on you.”

He leaned down further, practically forcing you to look at him. Your throat tightened at the close proximity. You’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear your heart thundering against your rib cage.

“What are you talking about?” His gaze is searching as he looked into your eyes. “You’ve always had an effect on me.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’ve used that on every girl.” You sighed and turned to walk a few steps away from him.

You’re surprised when you heard the door shut and his footsteps as he followed you further into the bathroom. “You doubt me too much.”

The tiny bit of whine in his tone made you prickle. You whirled around to find Tom standing right behind you. You pressed a finger to his chest. “And you throw your words around too much. I know you flirt with almost every girl your eyes land on and I know I’m not any different than any one of them. So excuse me for not completely believing all of your smooth, honey-coated words.”

He reached up and grabbed at the hand you were using to point accusingly at him with. His warm hand enclosed your wrist and he pushed you backwards and pressed you up against the wall. He framed you in by putting his free hand on the wall next to your head.

“I don’t know why I have to tell you this but you aren’t like other girls, okay?” His voice was low, like you were the only two people left in the world and still he wanted to keep this moment a secret.

“Then what am I, Tom?” you breathed. The frustration was melting away and a gaping hole of yearning was replacing it. And you don’t know what to do with it. And that was terrifying.

“You’ve always been different, you aren’t like everyone else. You’re special,” he said. He brought his face down to the side of your face, his warm inhales and exhales now tickling your ear. “You’re mine.”

Your heart leapt up your throat as you felt his lips brush against your ear. A flutter, a mirage, a hint of a kiss. But then a small twinge. You couldn’t hold back the gasp as you felt a flash of teeth and a quick pull of your earlobe as he moved back. Heat rushed through your face and you prayed he wouldn’t be able to see how red you are in the dim lighting.

“Don’t do that.”

Tom licked his lips. It took everything within you not to press your mouth against his as you watched his tongue run over his plush lips. “Do what, darling?”

“Make me want to make out with you.” You jutted your lip out a bit in a pout. “I’m supposed to be mad at you, not madly want to kiss you.”

He grinned devilishly. “Oh yeah?” He reached out and fingered a lock of hair that had fallen loose from your ponytail bun. “Guess my Ryder charm is pulling through for me today.”

“Oh shut up.” You grabbed his head between your hands and pulled him down to your height and crushed your lips against his wet parted ones.

His eyes widened for a split second before he bent down further, deepening the kiss. He took no time in shaking off the surprise and taking control. He gently moved closer to you, pressing you firmly against the wall. His hands made their way into your hair and slowly undid the bun, his slender fingers tangling themselves in the strands. His mouth was warm, the heat of it sent tingles down to your toes. He wasn’t a desperate kisser, he kissed like there was nowhere to go, like he could always buy more time if we ever ran out. His touch was burning and excruciating but in all the right ways and you wanted more.

Your hands moved from his face and grabbed onto the open front of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him. You let your tongue push past his lips and did a quick run over his teeth. He tasted faintly of booze and citrus and jealousy. You can feel his mouth shift into a grin and he returned the favor but more forcibly, like he hasn’t eaten in days, ravenous, hungry.

You both break away for a breath. You opened your eyes and watched him as he panted. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wild and sweat glistened on his collarbones. It’s a beautiful sight. You honestly can’t quite believe it’s you who was the cause of it.

Words are hard to draw upon, your head is more full with ecstasy than of coherent sentences. “What about the party?” you murmured.

“Screw the party.” He kissed and broke away again. “Screw the whole freaking party.” Another stolen kiss. “If it’s you versus the party, you win every time, baby.”

You bit back a grin. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

He let out a laugh, a genuine laugh. The world paused at the sound of it. It’s a deep, rough laugh, like it isn’t quite used to coming out into the world but it’s so beautiful and lucent that the clumsiness of it is all forgotten.

You can’t help but stare up at him in awe. You could probably count how many times you’ve heard that laugh. It’s almost like it’s the eighth Wonder of the World and you wanted to savor the rarity of it.

Mild amusement flickered across his face. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just so beautiful, that’s all.” You tilted your chin up and flashed a sly smile. “And you’re all mine.”

His hand grabbed your chin, angling it so your lips were just brushing each other, a butterfly’s flutter of a kiss. Goosebumps swept over your body. “All yours,” he said, his voice thick and rumbly. He closed the distance, his mouth desperate to be against yours again.

A knock at the door startled both of you. You untangled yourselves from each other.

“Um, hello, is this occupied? Kinda need to go.”

Tom growled under his breath. “Aren't there any other bathrooms in this place?”

“Maybe they’ll go look for a different one?” You hold your breath. Your tongue has the lingering taste of oranges and alcohol and it’d love to get a reminder how vibrant those flavors can be.

Another knock. “Hello? Can you hurry up in there?”

Tom turned his head towards the door. “The door’s closed for a reason, man, buzz off!”

“No, no, wait, it’s okay, we can let them use it.” You gently patted his chest, trying to regain his attention before he yelled more. “It’s okay.”

He looked back at you and his anger evaporated. He tilted his head down and looked remorseful. “I’m sorry we have to cut this short.”

“Me too.” You stood on tiptoes and placed a quick peck on his bristly cheek. “But we can always pick up where we left off, ‘kay?”

He grinned, his sharp canines glinting in the dim light. “Of course, darling.”

Your heart did a little leap at that. You shoved down the urge to just ignore the rest of humanity and stay here with Tom and quickly patted yourself down. Your hair was almost completely undone and your shirt was rumbled. You let your hair out of the ponytail and straightened your clothes.

“There,” you said as you did a check in the mirror. “Presentable.” You turned to look Tom over. He was mostly fine except for the red smears that covered his face. You groaned. “Oh no, you look like you’ve been mauled by cheap lipstick. Here, let me wipe it off—“

“It’s fine,” Tom interrupted. “I don’t care.”

You stopped in the middle of grabbing paper towel. “You sure?”

His mouth curled into a crooked smile. “I had one of the best nights of my life. I should let everybody see the souvenir.”

Your cheeks warmed and you gave Tom a joking shove. “That’s so dumb.”

“I enjoyed myself immensely.”

“Stop saying things that make me want to kiss you.”

“No, you.”

An impatient series of knocks made you both jump. “You know I can hear you talking in there. Hurry up. I really gotta go.”

Tom rolled his eyes before winking at you. He grabbed the doorknob. “Ready?”

You reached for his arm and linked yours around his and nodded.

With bravado, he flung open the door and pushed past the figures waiting in the hallway. As Tom bumped shoulders with the taller of the two, you heard him mutter, “Prick.

You almost had to run to keep up with Tom as he guided you down the hall. “Tom!” you hissed. You threw a quick glance behind you and had to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. “That was Randy and Lauren! I’ve been practically begging Lauren to make a move for weeks! And you just called him a prick!” You slapped his forearm gently. “Thanks, now they’ll have questions for me.”

You stopped at the top of the stairs, the light from below cascading its way up. “Please,” Tom said as he bent down to plant a kiss on your head, “don’t worry about it too much, darling. If they have half as good of a time as we did, I doubt they’ll remember. And he is a prick, he ruined a good thing for me.” In the faded light, you see his lower lip slipped into a pout.

You laughed and cupped his face with your hand. Seeing him get upset over this, while it’s somewhat childish, sends happy tingles down your spine. It’s somehow endearing.

“Oh Tom, I’m always willing to go for round two.”

[estudiodedecoracion]

Matali Crasset

Matali Crasset. Diseñadora industrial y decoración de interiores e instalaciones.

Matali Crasset (1965, Normée, Châlons-en-Champagne, Francia) es el nombre artístico de la diseñadora industrial y proyectista francesa Nathalie Crasset.

Matali Crasset nació en una familia de agricultores y pasó su infancia en un pequeño pueblo en el norte de Francia, en una granja donde el trabajo y la vida se entrelazaban.

Inicialmente se formó en el sector del Marketing, pero luego descubrió su vocación por el diseño cuando tuvo que proyectar el embalaje de un frasco de perfume.

Decidió retomar sus estudios, y en 1991 se graduó como diseñadora industrial en Les Ateliers, École Nationale Supérieure de Création Industrielle (ENSCI) de París.

Tras concluir sus estudios empezó una trayectoria profesional en el mundo del diseño industrial ecléctica y poco convencional.

La temática elegida por Crasset para sus primeros proyectos fue lo relacionado con el entorno doméstico. Su idea fue crear espacios versátiles que favorecieran la interacción, evitando el condicionamiento que el uso de muebles puede conllevar en nuestra actividad y nuestro entorno diario.

Matali proponer objetos “funny“, divertidos pero funcionales al máximo en todos sus proyectos, pero especialmente para sus creaciones dedicadas al diseño para el hogar y a la creación de objetos, empleando la fantasía del color para ponerla al servicio de las personas en la vida de todos los días.

“La hospitalidad, la generosidad, la flexibilidad y el optimismo“ son los cuatro pilares que rigen sus diseños.

Al igual que la voluntad de ahondar en la cuestión de la bidimensionalidad y de la trimendisionalidad, lo que lleva a Matali Crasset a experimentar con formas y materiales.

Materiales innovadores, re-interpretados en clave moderna, pero con una fuerte identidad inspirada en las décadas de los sesenta y setenta; y formas definidas gracias también a la naturaleza saturada y fuerte de los colores que emplea.

Antes de abrir su propio Estudio, Matali Crasset colaboró con el diseñador italiano Denis Santachiara en Milán, en la realización de proyectos de arquitectura y diseño para exposiciones.

En 1993 regresó a París, y estuvo cinco años trabajando con Philippe Starck y el grupo de electrónica Thomson Multimedia, convirtiéndose en la responsable del “Tim Thom” o Centro de Diseño Thomson.

En 1997 recibió el Gran Premio de Diseño de la Ciudad de París. Ese mismo año, la Fundación Sue Ryder le encarga la realización de todo el mobiliario litúrgico para la capilla “Maison de Marie”, en Lourdes.

En 1998 abrió su propio Estudio en París, Matali Crasset Production. Sus señas de identidad son la libertad creativa y su capacidad para sorprender, y por su peinado de “paje” y su fuerza vital innata es definida por sus compañeros de profesión la “Juana de Arco del diseño“.

Ese mismo año de 1998 recibió por parte del Ministerio de Cultura una beca del F.I.A.C.R.E. (Fondo de Incitación a la Creación) para que lleve a cabo su proyecto “Design Autogène”.

Su primer proyecto de relevancia “When Jim comes to Paris”, para Domeau & Pèrés lo realizó ese mismo año de 1998. Es una propuesta de alojamiento que genera las “mejores condiciones” de recepción en una casa que no dispone de un espacio para este fin.

En los años 2000 y 2001, diseña una residencia en la ciudad de Nontron, en Dordoña y concibe, junto con otros profesionales del mundo del arte, el proyecto Pol’arisation, mobiliario del futuro.

En 2003 fue convocada para diseñar los interiores del Hotel Hi de Niza (el primero de los hoteles de la serie Hi Life, que busca ampliar el concepto de hotel de lujo) donde presentó una propuesta flexible que buscaba generar espacios que pudieran interactuar y habitar “en sereno diálogo” con el entorno, buscando una evolución continua del vivir y del habitar.

Junto con los empresarios Philippe Chapelet y Patrick Elouarghi, Matali desarrolla Hi Life, una nueva tipología de hoteles que buscan valorizar los conceptos de ecología, innovación, diseño, tecnología y desarrollo turístico sostenible (con tres establecimientos repartidos ya por el mundo).

Según palabras de Crasset “algunos hoteles quieren que te sientas como en casa, otros como si fueras un huésped en la casa de otra persona. Hi ofrece la oportunidad de vivir otra experiencia.”

El barrio parisino de la Bastilla es el lugar elegido para situar Hi Matic, inaugurado en 2011. Definido como “eco-hotel urbano”, Hi Matic, busca enfatizar la comodidad y la convivencia entre los huéspedes, siempre desde la sostenibilidad y el respeto mediambiental.

Su trabajo, que ha surgido a partir de los años 90 como un rechazo de la forma pura -un diseño que supera los horizontes de la belleza estética- se concibe como una búsqueda en movimiento -en busca de lo contemporáneo- hecha de hipótesis y principios.

Matali Grasset investiga nuevas lógicas y conexiones para entender el mundo cotidiano que nos rodea. Su metodología cuestiona la obviedad de los códigos que rigen nuestra vida diaria para así experimentar y poder superarlos.

Esto produce el desarrollo de nuevas tipologías centradas en principios como la modularidad, la propiedad, la flexibilidad, la red.

Colabora con numerosos y diversos ámbitos que genera un trabajo ecléctico que abarca desde muebles de producción en masa, con otros manufacturados artesanalmente; la música electrónica con la industria textil para el comercio justo; el diseño de espacios e instalaciones con diseño gráfico y arquitectura.

Matali Crasset ha diseñado exhibiciones públicas, interiores, muebles, productos públicos y tecnológicos para clientes como Artemide; Cristal Saint Louis; Danese; Domestic; Domodinamica; Dornbracht; Duna; Exquisite Design; Hermès; Le Printemps; Lexon; L’Oréal; Orangina; Swarosvki, y Thomson Multimedia, ente otros.

Numerosos han sido los premios recibidos a lo largo de su carrera (entre ellos el Gran Premio de la Prensa Internacional de la Crítica del Mueble Contemporáneo en 1999, o el premio a la Diseñadora del año en el Salón del Mueble de París, 2006) y son numerosas las obras de diseño expuestas en los centros de arte internacionales.

Su obra está incluida en prestigiosas instituciones y colecciones públicas y privadas de todo el mundo, entre ellas el Museum für Angewandte Kunst (MAK) de Viena; el Museo de Artes Decorativas y el Centro de Georges Pompidou en París; el Instituto de Arte de Chicago; el Museo de Arte de Indianápolis; el MOMA de Nueva York; el Museo de las Artes Contemporáneas de Bélgica, y el Museo do Design y da Moda de Lisboa.

Matali Crasset (pág. web).

Matali Crasset, y lámpara “IKEA PS” 2017 para IKEA.

AllABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

A

Alessandro Mendini

Alfredo Häberli

Alvar Aalto

Andrea Branzi

Andrée Putman

Andreu Carulla

Andy Martin

Antonio Citterio

Arend Groosman

Arik Levy

Arne Jacobsen

Autoban

B

BarberOsgerby

Benjamin Graindorge

Benjamin Hubert

Bertjan Pot

Boca do Lobo

C

Carlo Mollino

Charles Rennie Mackintosh

Charles y Ray Eames

Claudio Colucci

D

David Adjaye

DimoreStudio

Doshi Levien

E

Edward van Vliet

Eero Saarinen

Eileen Gray

Enzo Mari

Ettore Sottsass

F

Fabio Novembre

Fernando Mastrangelo

Filippo Mambretti

Finn Juhl

Francesco Rota

Frank Gehry

Frank Lloyd Wright

Fredrikson Stallard

G

Gabriella Crespi

Gae Aulenti

Gaetano Pesce

George Nelson

George Sowden

Gerrit Rietveld

Goula Figuera

H

Hans J. Wegner

Héctor Serrano

Hella Jongerius

Hermanos Campana

Hervé Van der Straeten

I

India Mahdavi

Inga Sempé

J

Jaime Hayón

Jasper Morrison

Jean Prouvé

Joaquim Tenreiro

Joe Colombo

Johan Lindstén

Jonathan Adler

Jörg Schellmann

Jurgen Bey

K

Karim Rashid

Kelly Wearstler

L

Le Corbusier

Lex Pott

Lievore Altherr

Lucas Muñoz Muñoz

Ludovica y Roberto Palomba

M

Marc Newson

Marcel Breuer

Matali Crasset

Matteo Thun

Max Lamb

Michael Anastassiades.

Mies van Der Rohe

Miguel Milá

N

Naoto Fukasawa

Nendo

Nigel Coates

O

Olivier Mourgue

P

Paola Navone

Paolo Lomazzi

Patricia Urquiola

Pierre Paulin

Piet Hein Eek

Q

Quentin de Coster

R

Richard Hutten

Richard Sapper

Rick Owens

Rodolfo Dordoni

Ron Arad

Ron Gilad

S

Sacha Lakic

Scholten & Baijings

Seung-Yong Song

Shiro Kuramata

Simone Simonelli

Studio Job

Studio Kaksikko

T

Tapio Wirkkala

Tejo Remy

Thomas Sandell

Tokujin Yoshioka

Tom Dixon

Toni Grilo

U

Ueli y Susi Berger

V

Verner Panton

Vico Magistretti

Vincenzo de Cotiis

Vladimir Kagan

Von Pelt

W

William Sawaya

X

Xavier Lust

Y

Yrjo Kukkapuro

Yves Béhar

Z

Zaha Hadid

Zanuso

from http://decorador.online/disenadores-destacados/matali-crasset/

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tom Ryder x fem!actress!reader

Summary: Tom books a role in a musical with the only one goal in mind. He wants to work with an actress he's been crushing on forever—you.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: arrogant/asshole Tom (duh), swearing

~ thank you for requesting this, anon 🫶💖 ~

TOM RYDER MASTERLIST

Tom Ryder doesn't like singing. He doesn't even like musicals! He's an action star, goddamnit!  This meant that when his agent came up to him one day and said he'd gotten him an audition for a new musical, Tom laughed at him. 

"A musical, Danny, and it's a romance?! What the flying fuck do I even pay you for?" he complains as he lies on the couch of his trailer, his arms flexed behind his head.

"It's good for publicity and it shows you have some range, Ryder!" Danny explains as calmly as he can, already annoyed with Tom's childish behavior.

Tom waves his hand as if to shoo him away.

"I have range. I don't need to prove anything to anyone," he says condescendingly. Danny pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He walks over to Tom and drops a magazine into his lap. 

"Y/n Y/l/n already took the part. She's the lead. They're casting her love interest," he says with a knowing smirk as Tom scrambles into a sitting position. He quickly reads the headlines as his eyes roam around your picture.

Tom's crush on you isn't a secret to anyone who works with/for him. He's madly in love with you to the point it's embarrassing because you've spoken maybe twice at an award show and nothing more.

"When's the audition?" he asks Danny immediately. 

* * *

Tom is grateful for his naturally decent voice and the year of vocal training he'd taken a few years ago because that means while he doesn't usually sing, he doesn't completely suck. 

He's never, in all his years of acting, tried so hard for a role so when Danny tells him he got the part, he makes a very unattractive squeal as he celebrates.

He's over the moon until his first day when he realizes he has to actually work with you now. Color drains from his face and he pushes up his cool-dude pink-tinted sunglasses to hide how anxious he must look.

He sees you sitting in your chair, scrolling your phone. Shit, you're as gorgeous in person as he remembers, he thinks and he internally panics as he feels like he's floating.   

"Sup," he says nonchalantly, taking a seat in his chair next to yours.

Sup? What the fuck. 

You look up, smiling at him, "Oh, hi," you turn to him and outstretch your hand, "I'm Y/n."

Tom blinks as he stares at your hand. 

Do you really think he doesn't know who you are?! Or do you just introduce yourself to everyone you meet? 

With a confused expression, he clears his throat and shakes your hand. 

"Ryder," he says, "Tom Ryder."

You smile at him. "Okay, James Bond," you joke.

Tom flushes pink, "I was just introducing myself—y'know—being humble and all. I don't know why it's needed though," he sniffs arrogantly, "You obviously know who I am, and I obviously know who you are," he says, his douchiness involuntarily slipping out.

You narrow your eyes at him. "Obviously," you echo, your tone curt as you turn to look down at your phone again. 

Tom panics. No girl has ever just ignored him like this. He leans closer, clearing his throat. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?" he asks, pretending your lack of interest in him isn't bruising his enormous ego.

You huff, sending him a look. "No, your lack of self-awareness just rendered me speechless for a moment, Tom Ryder," you say sarcastically and then grin. "But, you'want some friendly advice? Co-star to co-star? Pull your head out of your fucking ass and realize not everyone here worships the ground you walk on because you can learn a few lines." 

Tom's entire face burns crimson as his mouth opens in shock. You stand and clap your hands on your thigh as if you'd forgotten something and then you turn to look at him once more. "Oh, and introduce yourself to people around here. It's common courtesy. Toodles," you wave teasingly and spin on your heels to the makeup department. 

Tom's never felt more like an idiot in his entire life. Somehow, he managed to make a fool of himself and also make you hate him all in one simple interaction. 

Fuck this. He rubs a hand over his jaw and composes himself. At least work will go well—as it usually does. 

* * *

He's so so wrong. 

Turns out, working on a musical and a romance is much harder than action star Tom Ryder ever imagined. By the end of the day, he's completely embarrassed by not only his table reading but how croaky his voice sounded when in the studio, and he's so so close to calling Danny and begging him to bail him out of this. 

He stares at himself in the mirror of his dressing room and he prepares to bang his head on the wall when he hears a knock on his door.

"What?" he mutters, slumping down on his couch as he pops an ibuprofen in his mouth to calm his headache.

When the door opens, you're standing there, holding up two bubble-milk drinks. "I come in peace," you whisper and Tom sits up instantly. 

"Y/n," he whispers, blushing. 

"Tom Rdyer," you smile and hand him one of the drinks. "Rough day, huh?"

Tom coughs. "Wasn't that bad," he shrugs and sips on the drink, looking up at you behind his silly sunglasses. "Thanks for this," he says, a little confused because he'd definitely gotten the impression you hated him.

You nod and sit next to him, "You'll do fine" you reassure him, looking around his dressing room and then back at him, "you're just not used to this type of movie…yet. But I think it's admirable to change your scene so drastically so if you ever need me, I'm here for you. After all, what are co-stars for?" you smile kindly.

Tom feels his heart leap in his chest as his pupils dilate.  

"Thanks," he mumbles again, unsure how to deal with a situation like this. Usually, he'd make a snide comment or even a crude joke to calm his nerves, but he doesn't want to do that with you so he just sits in silence.

He's truly not used to this awkward silence with women. He doesn't have to think very hard to know that by now he'd usually have his tongue shoved down their throats, his hand under their shirts as he whispers meaningless praises in their ears. 

But, you're different. Tom doesn't want that with you—not so soon anyway—and he hates this new feeling he has whenever you're around. It makes him feel weak and mushy.

"I saw your last movie," you say, making conversation. "I was really diggin' the gold cowboy outfit," you laugh and if Tom pretends really hard he hears some flirtation in your voice.

His lips curl up into a smirk which eventually morphs into a smile. 

"Ah-ha," you grin and playfully poke the soft dimples that appear on his cheeks. "I was wondering when you'd drop that douchey smirk and smile at me." 

Tom looks stunned by how easily you read him.

"What douchey smirk? I don't have a douchey smirk," he defends and scrunches his nose in disgust, staring at you like you've gone insane but you just bend your knee on the couch and turn to him. 

"You definitely do," you laugh and pull out your phone as you type something. 

"What're you doing?" Tom moves closer, suddenly anxious.

You pull your hand away as he leans in and when you muffle a laugh and turn your phone screen to him, you giggle and his face falls.

"Douchey smirk," you say and point at the screen; which displays a random picture of him from Google during some red-carpet event he doesn't even remember. 

"Google is absolute shit," Tom exclaims and he debates retaliating with a picture of you, but he knows he wouldn't find one where he would find you ugly. 

You're always gorgeous.

"Now you're just being mean, sweetheart," he says and the pet names slip past his lips unconsciously. Luckily, you don't mention it or seem put off. Tom's shoulders relax. 

"What? You don't like it?" you turn your phone again and swipe the screen, looking at more pictures. "It's not like you could ever look bad."

Tom bites the inside of his cheek. Again, if this was any other girl, he would take that as an invitation to flirt heavily. With you? He's a blushy mess that doesn't seem to have any smooth moves anymore. 

You put your phone away and smile. "No snarky comment, Mister Big-Shot?" 

He chuckles and his real smile returns. "Not tonight." 

You sit up and look into his eyes. You don't seem by any means nervous when you say, "You're an intriguing character, Tom Ryder. I do like that. How about you take me out to dinner tonight—if you can clear your clearly very busy schedule." You gesture to whatever he had been doing in his dressing room (which had only been some self-loathing). 

Tom's never been asked out by a woman. He's usually the one asking them out and he'd assumed he'd hate not being the one to take charge but this feels so natural. "Like a date?"

You laugh and stand up, sipping on your bubble milk. "Like dinner. I'll see if I'll give you an upgrade by the end of the night," you say with a wink and Tom melts right then and there. 

He accepts instantly, also liking the challenge, and he takes you to dinner. He takes you to your favorite restaurant, ignoring that he very much dislikes Thai food, and he plays the perfect gentleman—or rather, he doesn't even have to play a gentleman because you seem to bring it out of him naturally. 

It's almost midnight as he walks you back to your car, his arm almost touching yours as you both walk side-by-side, stuck in a light-hearted debate about book adaptations turned into movies.

Occasionally, he'll check to make sure his security team is walking behind you but his hand with twitch to steady around your waist in case he also needs to keep you safe from some crazy fans or unsuspected paparazzi.

"You don't seem like the type to read much," you say, feeling content as your heels click against the pavement. You feel safe around him and you smile at the feeling of his fingers sometimes skimming your waist. 

"I read," he frowns and then pauses, "I read a lot of scripts."

You laugh, liking his blunt honesty. 

Tom's chest swells at the sound of your laugh. He'd managed to bring it out of you on more than one occasion tonight and he wears each time like a badge of honor—even if he's 95% sure you're laughing at him. 

When you arrive at your car, you turn to him and Tom opens his mouth to ask the question that has been on his mind all night, "So, was this a date?" but instead, your arms wrap around him and you kiss his lips. It's quick, almost fleeting and he wonders if he'd imagined the entire thing. 

"I don't usually kiss anyone on the first date," you say, slightly more nervous now, "so don't make me regret it, Tom Ryder," you whisper and his hand almost clutches at your waist to pull you in for another kiss but instead he holds the door for you to climb into your car. 

He sends you a nervous smile and then watches as your car disappear around the corner. "I promise I won't," he whispers into the air knowing he means every word. 

He's never taken his time with anyone, but he'll stop time entirely just to spend every second he can with you.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: You try and convince Tom Ryder that doing his own stunt out of the blue is a very very bad decision.

Prompt: friends to lovers ~ "I've told you a dozen times and I'll tell you again: it's not possible!"

Warnings: implied sexual relationship.

i hope you love this @aways-and-forever-alone 🫶💖

TOM RYDER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

"Ryder, I've told you a dozen times and I'll tell you again: it's not possible!" you shout, hurrying behind him, holding your clipboard to your chest, your sneakers catching sand as you walk. "It's dangerous! Too dangerous," you hiss.

"Colt does it all the time," Tom simply shrugs.

"He's trained! You're just doing this to make yourself feel better. You're on some power trip again and I won't allow you to do this!" you tell him sternly. "As stunt coordinator and your friend, you're not doing this," you add, finally gripping his arm and turning him around so you can look at him directly. 

"You can't tell me what I can and can't do, sugar," Tom stares at you, his blue eyes shining. 

"I can actually, that's literally my job." You drop your hand from his arm and sigh, desperately thinking of how to convince him that he doesn't need to do his own stunts, especially one as dangerous as this to prove himself to anyone. "C'mon, this is stupid, Tom," you whisper his name, looking up at him pleadingly. 

Tom tilts his head, blond curls falling over his forehead as he takes in your nervous expression. His lips curl into a smirk and his shoulders relax.

He walks closer and on instinct, you walk back, your heart drumming so hard inside your chest you can hear it in your ears. You and Tom have been close during shooting, but never this close. You're friends, sure, but the way he's looking at you now makes it seem like you're way more than just friends.    

His hand skims your hair, stroking it in an affectionate gesture as he leans in close. His gaze flickers over your body for a moment. "Why are you so worried, babe?" he asks, his tone smooth and flirty. 

You hate when he does this.

"Tom," you say, doing your best to sound professional, "This is my job. It's important to me. I can't let any actors be injured because of one of my stunts." 

Tom rolls his eyes and grins. "Is your job important to you or am I important to you?" he asks boldly, having no shame. Your eyes round as his question sinks in and you can't help the heat that rises up your neck and settles in your cheeks. 

"What kind of question is that?" you ask, frowning. 

Tom's hand slinks around your waist, pulling you in and causing you to drop your clipboard in the process. You make a small, surprised sound as your hands hit his chest and his lips now press to your ear. "Ask me nicely and I won't do this stunt," he commands, his smirk evident in his tone. 

"Excuse me?" you exclaim, but your voice doesn't sound nearly as pissed off as you'd wanted considering he's so close to you and his cologne is making you feel dizzy. You look at his features, taking him in and all those late-night fantasies start to creep in as your throat dries.

"Ask me nicely," he repeats, "tell me how much you care about me, and I won't do the stunt." Tom finishes with a grin and kisses behind your ear. "I know you're more concerned than you let on, baby, just admit you like me and I'll listen to you."

His lips find a sensitive spot on your neck and your hands tighten in his shirt. This is wrong on so many levels. You're coworkers, friends, not lovers. Tom nips at your skin and you gasp, your mind turning hazy as you let him hear what he wants to hear. 

"Tom, please don't do this stunt. I don't want to see you hurt. Please, I care for you," you admit, feeling embarrassed. 

Your embarrassment dies the moment Tom kisses your forehead and mumbles, "Good girl," into your skin. His large hand comes up to press against one of your cheeks, stroking his thumb over your lip.

"Mmhm," he hums and leans down to press a quick kiss on your lips, "now there is no need to beg me, sugar," he teases and pats your cheek almost condescendingly in a way that makes your stomach flutter uncontrollably.

"Fuck you," you hiss, glaring at him.

Tom's grin just widens. "Fuck me? Well, I suppose we could arrange that, angel," he finishes with a wink that makes your knees weak.