golden knuckles

Miss .45

Originally posted by drreiid

Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Requested by a lovely anon!

Summary: Most actresses would jump at the chance to play in a role opposite from their husband, but when your role opposite from your husband Matthew is designed to cause pain, it’s far from a dream come true. Based on the episode Entropy. 

Word count: 1,545

A/N: This is my first time writing for MGG so bear with me if it’s a little rough! There are also some spoilers within since it is based on 11x11. I would love to know what you thought! 

Being an actress meant that you had grown accustomed to a multitude of things throughout the course of your career.

Early morning wake up calls with equally late nights on set, script changes coming within ten minutes of filming, months on end spent away from the comfort of your own home, and even invasive encounters with unapologetic paparazzi.

But yet, the act of having another person apply your makeup for the day was one that you could never fully grow used to.

“Dayne, you do realize that you can apply mascara without destroying my cornea in the process, right?” your eyes darted upwards at the makeup artist whose wand-wielding hand inched closer and closer to your line of sight.

A chuckle resonated from Dayne as he took a step back from you, “I can’t tell who’s harder to work with,” sarcasm dripped from the smirk he wore, “You, or your husband.”

At the mere mention of Matthew, anxiety clenched your chest tight, but you managed to pass it off with a breathy laugh, “Just be glad that it’s me you’re putting fake lashes on instead.”

It was unusual, and incredibly unsettling, to experience such apprehension at the thought of even seeing your husband whilst preparing for your first role opposite him.

After meeting at the Tribeca Film Festival for his film ‘Magic Valley’ it was written in the stars from then on out for the two of you to be together.

Three years of dating and another two years of marriage later, Matthew and yourself had never once starred in a film together, despite both of your affinities for indie films, which only made it even more shocking when he arrived home from the Criminal Minds set one night with a script gripped in his hand.

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feroxiox  asked:

[ shift ] + [ drape ]

[ shift ] for your muse to move hair off my muses face.
[ drape ] for your muse to help pull off / unzip my muses clothing

Her breath catches silently in her throat. Her eyes fall shut. Her cheeks grow flushed. 

His hand brushes back golden curls. His rough knuckles brush against her cheek. His breath is warm on her lips.

She does move as he pulls her hair away, exposing her shoulder and her neck. He only smiles and moves in closer. She does not protest when his other hand steals its way up to the clasp of her cloak and begins to rid her of it. He murmurs her name into the shell of her ear.

But he pauses when her cloak is gone, with one hand tangled in her hair, one hand at the laces of her gown, and his lips against her jaw. His wife is a modest woman, he is well aware, and ever since their wedding night, he had vowed to always recieve her explicit, eager permission before he would take her to bed. He whispers her name again, this time as a question.



Her voice is delicate like glass, and shaking like a winter storm, but he knows that tone and he knows what she is beseeching him for. Again, he moves her hair aside, and his teeth graze over the pale skin of her neck while his other hand pulls away the clasps and the strings that hold her beautiful shape together, until she is vulnerable and loving in his arms.

“I love you,” she says, because she always says it right before he does something terribly corrupting to her. 

“I love you too, beautiful swan. Now let me show you how much.”

Baby Don’t Hurt Me (Bumbleby)

“What do you think love is?”

Blake looked up from her position underneath her shady tree. “So sunsets make you philosophical. I hadn’t realized. It makes sense, though.”

“I dunno.” The shape of sunlight shifted as Yang plopped down next to her. ”Maybe I’m just in a mood to be thinking about lovey-dovey stuff!“

Giggles. Blake shut the third volume of the Grimmborn Saga. "It’s a simple enough question. But … it’s also a very complicated answer.”

Yang’s looked at Blake from the corner of her eye. “Need some time to think about it?”

“No. No.” Blake traced the patterns the sun and the shade created on the cover of her book. “I have an answer. It’s just … complicated. And messy. And somewhat long-winded.”

And then, suddenly, there was a blonde head in her lap. “Got all night.”

That coaxed a smile out of Blake. And, eventually, a response. “I’ve heard that love is patient, and love is kind.” The book was set aside. “I know others believe that love is selflessness – that it means sacrificing for someone else, and putting their needs above your own.”

Skin slid along fabric as Yang titled her head. “You don’t think that’s right, though?”

“I do, but …” Fingers found their way to yellow bangs. “I think there’s more to love than that. At least, the way I see it.”

Yang hummed, quiet, eyes slowly drifting shut. “Take your time.”

Golden tangles drifted over knuckle and nail, and for a while, Blake did. “It’s easy …” She paused, for another curl, another daffodil strand between index and forefinger. “It’s easy for me to feel worthless, sometimes.”

Yang’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

“Like I’m the first draft of a better book than me.” Blake bit her lip. Just a little. Just for second. “Meandering, too wordy, too depressing. Heh. About half a million dangling plot threads.” Fingers over bangs, fingers over bangs. “And probably a heartbreak, on the last page. Pointless.”

For a moment, there was only the setting sun.

“. . . you know, if it helps …” A knuckle pressed itself, gently, into Blake’s thigh, and began moving. “I’ve always thought you were the best book I’ve ever read.”

“Hmm. And then, whenever I feel that way, you go and say something as simple, and as complicated and, mostly, as … sweet as that.” Blake watched a falling leaf as it settled on Yang’s stomach. “And all at once, I’m reminded that we write our own stories, and more than that, we make our own points. We make them, and decide how bright they shine, and put lines between them to connect them into the shape we want them to be.”

“Blake …” Yang spoke so softly, and almost certainly too loud for her own satisfaction.

“Isn’t that remarkable?” Blake spoke softly, too, and barely breathed. “One sentence from you, and I go from feeling meaningless to feeling like a constellation. Isn’t it amazing that, as hollow as I can feel, you hold me and touch me and remind me how to fill me up with myself? Isn’t it incredible that I feel braver than I’ve ever been with you at my back?”

“Hee, hee. You’re gonna make me blush, kitten.” Too late.

“Sometimes, as silly as it may sound, I even think I don’t deserve you.” The sun was setting fully, now, casting shadows over the curvature of Yang’s face. “And then you rest your head in my lap and look at me as though I’m someone you can trust. And I, in return, can’t help but trust you.” Fingers traveled slowly from forehead to cheek, tracing a path between old aches and pains. “A lifetime of being lied to, and manipulated, and led on a leash … an existence of feeling pointless and empty and scared and undeserving. Then you come along, and you tell me the truth, and I believe you.” Blake sighed, fondly. The breeze felt so nice on her uncovered ears. “Wholeheartedly.”

“You realize you’re probably giving me way too much credit, right?” Even when she was lying down, wind found plenty of purchase to glide through Yang’s lengthy golden locks.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Blake allowed her eyes to wander, just for a moment, before looking directly into Yang’s own gaze. “Do you know what I thought to myself when I looked in the mirror, this morning?”

Yang had pressed her palm onto Blake’s own, some time ago. She pressed, now. “What?”

Blake had fought so many smiles – but she refused to fight this one. “I thought: ‘wow. I look beautiful, today.’”

Yang took her turn at giggling. “You look beautiful every day.”

“Exactly my point.” Her heartbeat felt so slow, and so fast – all at the same time. “Love, you see, is when someone cares about you so, so much … that you start caring about yourself.” Blake breathed in through her nose, and out through her mouth. “True love is a good night’s sleep.”

Yang was quiet for a while – long enough for the sun to nearly finish setting.

“Well, that’s what I think, anyway.” Blake shrugged, settling back against her tree. “What do you think love is?”

“Nah, I think you might be right, actually.” The words were a gentle murmur. “But … there’s one more thing I think about love.”

“Oh, really?” Blake raised her eyebrow. “And that is?”

Yang smiled at Blake, like the world unfolding.

“I think I might be talking to her.”

Smoulder Chapter 14

Summary: In which angst happens and we all meet Tomato sons boyfriend!
Read on Ao3  or FF.Net

Chapter 14

The first thought to cross Adrien’s mind was don’t panic.

Well, that was a lie. It was the first coherent thought. The ones which came before had been a cacophony of tangled emotions and questions, half-formed in his mind. Jumbled words such as Marinette, Nathanael, holding hands, walking away- together?

As he fought the crushing waves of panic, the nausea settling in the pit of his stomach, the shadows which coiled around his limbs, all of which telling him something was amiss- he tried to rationalise what he’d just seen. Even as he felt the rug pulled out from under him. The rapid change from liberating joy to suffocating dread was like running head first into an invisible wall. Helpless, defenceless, he was left watching the scene unfold before his eyes, with only his warring rationalisations for company.

They looked at each other with such joy.

Friends. They’re just friends.

He picked her up!

Maybe he was just excited about something?

They held hands, they looked like they were going on a date.

Stop jumping to conclusions.

Adrien swallowed painfully, hands curling into fists as he watched the pair walking away- still hand in hand. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, no matter how much it unsettled him. Frozen in place, all he could is let Marinette slip out of his sight, get further and further away just as he’d believed she’d been so close.

“Oh man,” a voice appeared at his side and it took all his will to pull himself together, to place his model-mask on. Nino had caught up to him, was standing by his side. He, too, was watching Marinette and Nathanael as they rounded the corner and disappeared from view, “I hope those two aren’t an item again.”

A funny thing happens when you hear something you don’t want to. It’s not quite time standing still, instead it’s almost like the words filter through slowly- deliberately- as though to cause maximum damage. Because, until that final word lands next to the others to form a complete sentence, there’s hope. The hope is wrung out, stretched and twisted, disfigured but there. And then that last word, that damned last word, settles, and the hope is all but snuffed out.

That’s how Nino’s words struck Adrien. He could scarcely comprehend what he’d just heard.

But his heart clenched, oh how it clenched, reminded him how he was still very much alive. It squeezed in his chest until he thought it might burst from fear. No it couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t… his Lady wouldn’t lead him on unless…

Unless he’d been wrong?

Unless she wasn’t Ladybug.

But he’d been so sure!

“Wh-what do you mean ‘an item’?” He didn’t want to know. God, he didn’t want to know. Don’t tell me Nino. Don’t tell me what I know you’re going to tell me.

Adrien was vaguely aware he was trembling, but Nino wasn’t watching him. Instead, his friend had two fingers massaging the crinkle between his eyebrows, his eyes scrunched together tightly.

“Those two. They dated last summer- sort of. When you were in Italy with your dad.”

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Agent Hemmings Part 2

Originally posted by cashtonkinks

A/N: I’ve decided this will be a multiple part imagine 

Part 1

     What they were about to do went against every protocol in the book. Broke every rule and was about to risk both their lives, and their jobs. It didn’t matter though, because one of their own was in trouble and whatever it took, Luke was going to get you back. 

“Dubai?” Luke confusedly said, “What the hell is Professor Bilgi doing in Dubai?” All four of the boys were staring at a computer over Ashton’s shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. Ashton had managed to hone in on your tracking device bracelet, finding the exact location you were in; Southwest Asia. It surprised Luke, not believing Bilgi was able to get that far in just a couple of hours. Luke ran a hand through his hair a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. 

“Hey don’t stress, this mission is a piece of cake!” Michael said, trying to show some positivity. Luke scoffed at his words, eyes darting out the tiny window to see if anyone was passing by. They had waited until late at night to come back and continue everything without everyone around. Ashton using his hacker and tracer knowledge to pin point your location. 

“How are we going to get there in time? It’s a 15 hour flight…I don’t even know how Bilgi got that far either.” Luke hit his hand against the door in frustration. The longer you were away from him, the more his worrying grew  

“Look we can get this done. We’ve gone to different countries all the time in just a few hours, and did you forget…” Michael commented, smirking at the three boys. “I have the keys to one of the jets.” He dug into his bag, pulling out the keys and swirling them around his finger. 

     Luke was rusty. Two years of not being on the job and his body chose now to disagree with the time change. He used to be accustomed to the jet lag, over coming it and doing the job at hand. Now Luke was nearly passed out in the backseat as they were driven to a hotel that was near your location. He was woken up by the car coming to a halt. Luke jumping from his sleep and rubbing at his eyes. It was hot, his skin burning with the sun beating down through the windows. He yawned, eyes squinting up at the hotel in front of him. “Bilgi is located somewhere over there,” Calum mumbled to Luke, pointing over his shoulder at a smaller building next to the hotel. Luke nodded, placing on a snapback and sunglasses, a minimal disguise so they could make it to the lobby without being recognized. Luke stopped halfway to the door, staring at the small building in determination. “I’m coming for you baby. Just sit tight,” he whispered more to himself than anything.

“That’s the transmitter device?” Ashton questioned, sounding unconvinced as he picked up the small electronic that looked similar to a calculator. “I thought you told the Director you didn’t have this,” he looked at Luke with raised eyebrows, trying to figure out what he knew.

“I didn’t know I had it, or what it was until she told me. I swiped this after the last mission…do you think you could make another one? Except make it not work,” Luke said. Looking over his shoulder for a split second to see what Calum was up to.

“You’re talking to a genius here. I’ll make a copy,” Ashton grinned, heading to work. Luke turned around, eyes wide as he watched Calum pull out weapon after weapon. The bed being lined with them. Each of the boys had their own strengths; Ashton with the tech, Calum the hard ass with muscles, and Michael with his way of getting any and everything. 

“I see you got some new toys,” Luke chuckled, picking up a pair of golden spiked brass knuckles. Calum loved gadgets and weapons, he thrived on them and it was like each year he got a new set. The bed was scattered with a bunch of weapons; guns, knives, arrows, grenades, you name it. 

“Yeah I did, this one right here is my baby,” Calum said, picking up a crossbow. “Now she may look like an ancient weapon, but this girl right here is deadly,” he began to explain. Luke laughed, shaking his head at how passionate Calum started to become. “Half of these bows are laced with poison. She also shoots out stun darts, and these are highly explosive,” Calum explain, carefully grabbing the explosive arrow from Luke’s hands. 

“Man you’re crazy,” Luke said, receiving a grin from Calum in return. Luke stretched out his arms, looking around the room in confusion. “Where’s Michael?” he questioned, plopping down on the second bed that was clear of weapons. It didn’t take long for the person of topic to enter the room. Michael walking in with his arms filled with snacks and a glint in his eyes. He was too quiet for the situation at hand, making the other three boys curious to what was going on. 

“What’s with that look?” Ashton asked, turning back to figuring out how to copy the transmitter device. 

“I just got entail that there’s going to be some event going on in the building next door. Sounds like one of the Professors moves doesn’t it?” Michael said, earning a nod from Luke. “Anyway I was chatting up this hot girl right and she’s telling me about the event which she’s going to be working at which is next door,” Michael started. “I managed to get a date with her and also get you three inside.” Luke grinned at his best friend’s words, eyeing each of the guys. 

“Ashton, how long will it take for you to make a copy?” he asked.

“About a few hours, maybe six if none of you interrupt me,” Ashton replied.

“Okay that could work. What time is this event?” Luke asked, turning to face Michael.  

“Starts at three ends sometime around one am,” Michael said, “All we have to do is not draw attention to ourselves. So Luke, don’t go bat shit crazy when you see the Professor. Think logically, find Y/N, get out. If Bilgi gets to you first give him the copy of the device, get Y/N, then get out…we’ll be right behind you.” Luke nodded, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. These three boys were going to risk everything for him. They were his brothers and he looked up to each of them. 

“I don’t think I said this yet, but thank you,” Luke said in a low voice. Words sincere and full of love. His hand dug into the pocket of his jeans, felling the velvet box of the engagement ring. Just a few more hours and soon you’ll be back in his arms.