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#But it was a bad actor who ruined it.
bonefall · 3 months
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what’s up with BB! Puddleshine? been having thoughts about him recently lol. i find it funny that rowanstar grabbed this random child from the nursery and was like ‘bam here’s our brand new doctor and spiritual leader everyone’
(*shaking twelve year old in the background*)
You know what's pretty cool about AVoS, buried underneath the slog of it all? The thing I keep going back to about this arc, in spite of how annoying it is to be forced to say in ThunderClan as everything interesting happens off-screen?
The way that so, so many young warriors are horrifically traumatized by both the structure of the Clans, and the Kin that they turn to.
It's a shame that the Erins were so committed to the idea of the Clan social structure NOT being the problem, because this whole arc is a perfect time to show how flawed it structurally is. LET these kids have a point, that maybe they were rebelling against something broken, but Darktail was a malicious actor who exploited their naivety to serve HIS ends.
A recap of what's happening in BB!AvoS before I explain my intentions with the Puddy Boy;
The big problem that I want Rowanstar to display is a problem that ALL the leaders of this time period also have. Commitment to Clan rivalry.
After Firestar was killed in AVoS by Dark Forest warriors, Bramblestar considers diplomacy secondary as a tactic. "ThunderClan will not be bullied any longer. We have been too soft with the other Clans for too long; and they have humiliated us by taking advantage of our kindness." (Note: Harespring and Breezepelt being part of the assassination patrol is not revealed until TBC. For MAXIMUM drama reveal.)
He escalated a border dispute that Firestar had worked closely and intimately with ShadowClan to resolve; a fight for a knoutberry patch on their border, just before Winter.
After Russetfur died in this painful battle, Blackstar backslid hard from his redemption arc. This caused the Thunder/Shadow alliance to dissolve towards the end of OotS, ending a friendship between the two Clans that had lasted through all of Po3.
He was open to Sol's manipulation, and while Tawnypelt was trying to fight the Dark Forest trainees who took over ShadowClan in the meantime... Rowanclaw became deputy by organizing a patrol of cats to remind Blackstar how much he means to them.
So Rowanstar inherits the Clan with this in mind. ShadowClan solves SHADOWCLAN'S problems. "ThunderClan had a quarrel with WindClan, but decided that we were their enemy. Leaving ourselves open for betrayal was a mistake; if we cannot handle our own problems, we will inevitably succumb to them when our so-called 'allies' don't come to help." (Note: he isn't completely wrong. His words are borderline prophetic for what's about to happen.)
Onestar has a smug chuckle at this. Since taking leadership, he's been appealing to the strongest, hardest members of his Clan. Those who once tried to kill him for his "weakness" in the Civil War. The "lesson" ShadowClan learned is one that he's known since the day Onewhisker died and Onestar was born, on the night of that sabotaged muirburn. "That so-called peace was always a farce. We are warriors of the four Clans; it was always going to come down to honor, and putting ourselves first. My WindClan isn't foolish enough to pretend like ThunderClan ever acted in anything but their own, hidden self-interest."
And Mistystar respects the direction Bramblestar has taken his Clan in, and approves of the "honesty" that the Clans are now showing. "As the branches of the honeysuckle fight and win the light for themselves, sometimes there are beautiful flowers that die in the shade. We can mourn the end of an era, and prepare for a future that will be made all the sweeter for our shared struggle. This is the way of the Clans, and StarClan's solemn light shines upon us all." (Note: god I love writing Misty's speeches)
In the family tree reworkings, Rowanstar is now the brother of Littlecloud. Sons of Brokenstar, honor-sired for Newtspeck.
Littlecloud... is suffering from early onset Alzheimer's.
He didn't want to choose an apprentice after Flametail's horrible death, heartbroken and stressed out, especially when he couldn't reach his nephew through contact with StarClan.
He can't remember, anymore, that Flametail was freed. He keeps forgetting this, over and over
He keeps ending up in different times of his life, where he's best friends with Cinderpelt and still calling Leafpool by her pre-Honor Title name, where he's inventing a mobility device for Wildfur, where he's still escaping the plague and before he knew his mentor caused it, where he's on the Great Journey...
Rowanstar is in a lot of pain, watching his brother forget so many things, scared and confused half the time. He doesn't want to believe that this is really the end, or that... many of these cats are now so young they can't recognize the various eras that Littlecloud is finding himself in.
Puddleshine and Slatefur are going to remain in Pinenose's litter. Either Lion or Birch MIGHT get shuffled to another one; and ALSO the shuffler might survive the Kin. (SO voice which one you want to survive, if you have a preference!)
SO, Violetshine has either two or three adopted siblings... plus another.
Pinenose's oldest surviving child is Happypaw. Happy is the half-sibling of Puddle/Slate-- the death of Weaselkit in the Great Battle caused his parents (Pinenose and Owlclaw) to break up.
(this is why I'm thinking about just reducing the litter to Puddle/Slate, so Violet has three major adoption-siblings to remember instead of four.)
And now we're ready to talk about Puddleshine.
He isn't the first young cat to be shoved into an extremely high-pressure position because of a Cleric becoming incapacitated. Kestrelflight was also forced to become the holy speaker of his people when he was far, far too young, after Barkface died in TNP. He dealt with this obediently, with only Jayfeather ever really being able to get him to think about it in a different light.
Unlike Kestrel, Puddlekit did voice that he was interested in becoming a Cleric, in BB. But he was too young to be properly making that choice, to know what he was getting into. He mentioned it practically offhandedly, and BOOM Rowanstar had rolled him into the position.
But Puddlepaw has a deep sense of responsibility. "Wise beyond his years"-- likely because of how tumultuous his home life was.
His mother's oldest child, Happypaw, was openly a bully of his half-siblings. Pinenose distanced herself from him as a result, causing Happy to be closer to Owlclaw, who was still not over Weaselkit's death.
But Puddle's Ba Spikefur is not a cat who handles his kit's emotions well. Instead, he encourages ambition, tells him to get back at his half-sibling by being more influential than that twerp could ever be.
Puddle will often go to Violet, the new POV, to vent about these things.
And one thing he mentions to her is how amazing Kestrelflight is, when he gets to meet him at the half-moon conferences. He learns SO MUCH from him, it's like he GETS what he's going through...
Puddle doesn't even feel sure that Littlecloud knows what he's doing anymore. If he's learning the right information at all.
But Rowanstar won't DO anything about Littlecloud-- and he CERTAINLY isn't about to let Puddlepaw go train under someone else's Cleric.
As a result of this, Puddlepaw becomes a VERY important member of Sleekpaw's little group. He wasn't one of their friends to begin with, buuuuut...
When he sits to chat with Sleekpaw and Needlepaw, with Happypaw good and far out of earshot, she makes a lot of sense.
A LOT of it.
ShadowClan is run by old men who don't know what they're doing. Rowanstar is too emotional to make good choices. Puddlepaw, barely even old enough to begin apprenticeship, is running all the medicine for an entire Clan.
And, sure, he doesn't have much in the way of a connection to StarClan, no, just a little more spiritual than the average cat...
But who can point this out? If Littlecloud is slowly losing his mind anyway?
"It's not right, how much pressure's on you," Sleekpaw growls, "And it wouldn't be this way if we could challenge Rowanstar. You should be training with Kestrelflight right now."
"But we're dealing with the shells StarClan dealt, and the Clan is looking to you now," Needlepaw points out on behalf of her friend, "You have much more sway than you know."
This time around for BB, Sleekpaw starts as a young hero. She's right. Rowanstar should be challenged, his emotions are affecting the ENTIRE Clan, and Puddlepaw is in a bad position because of it. Needlepaw is like her best diplomat, surely to become her deputy someday.
They would have made an excellent set of leaders for ShadowClan. But they trusted the wrong person, and were exploited. When Darktail and The Kin came to the lake, they were swept up by it, and WindClan began an embargo.
Puddlepaw eventually oversees the Yellowcough Outbreak, and at first just thinks it's Greencough. He has no idea about strains, or the special types of Color Cough that Clan cats have historically dealt with. Even when he finally does learn it's not JUST Greencough, he's powerless to do anything about it. A lot of cats die because of the lack of mullein.
After that, with ShadowClan so weak and the Kin so strong... he's one of the cats who calls for the merge. The most important one, in fact, leveraging his position to say that this is StarClan's will.
Sleekwhisker and Needletail were right all along, and he's happy to stick it right into everyone's faces. Onestar's tantrum of an embargo killed his Clanmates, Rowanstar stopped him from properly training, he's been under pressure from the time he was small with Littlecloud not fit to be a mentor, and he's ready to welcome in ShadowClan's new era as something that is not a Clan.
...unfortunately, it turned out to be the wrong choice. Not because his thought process was wrong. But because Darktail had other plans in-mind.
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torgawl · 8 months
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everyone here was soooo excited because a national channel was going to bring back this iconic tv series, directed specifically to the youth, from our childhood and adolescence that we are so nostalgic about after 11 years for them to disappoint us all with the trailer because it looks like elite 2.0
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#they ruined morangos com açúcar i dont think you guys understand#this was supposed to be a cliché show with bad acting about students and dramas at school not a fucking disappearing mystery show#with parties and sex and whatnot 😭#they're making it release in 10 episode seasons like streaming shows too.... that's not morangos!!!!! anfngngnbg#the vibe is so different that it actually makes no sense why they would try to tie it with the other seasons plot and actors shsjshs#yes morangos had your occasional topics of teenage pregnancy and queerness and all that jazz but it was actually explored well#the way they're making girls kiss and parties happening and everything of those sorts in the new season is literally like any of those#spanish teenage shows with too much sex scenes and it's embarrassing actually.#the essence of our national tv is getting lost because they want to do stuff that 'sells' except morangos never sold because it was trendy#or even good because the acting was honestly not great. it was literally our company and part of our routine all year around almost#it was the show we would arrive from school to watch before dinner every day#we watched them experience the school year at the same time we did and on holidays there was a special summer edition#it was a whole thing that this new version isn't.#it was a novela directed for the youth and not whatever show they're trying to make and i'm so mad#i actually wanted to see it. morangos was special to so many of us everybody knows the songs everybody loves the artists that came from#that generation we all grew up watching it.... literally.#and capitalism strikes again 👍#the auditions were a joke too. they announced auditions for anyone who would like to because another thing about morangos is that it was#a talent factory it gave opportunity to newbie actors and pushed their careers and the new season has a bunch of already renown actors and#actresses and they didn't even care to hide how fake and rigged the public auditons were lol#anyways never building expectations about anything ever again this actually broke my heart man agjshs#i'm gonna mourn this listening to d'zrt 4taste and just girls ✊
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yohankang · 1 year
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honestly i'm fine with mr. ji being a psycho but now i don't really want to watch the next episodes 😭 if this were a different type of drama then there would be a chance of a bittersweet ending but here.... i'm scared
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transwolvie · 1 year
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Thinking again abt that post that was like "Judaism so good how did Christianity wind up so bad" and like. Idk man I think of you uncritically call any religion good just based off their main tenets rather than acknowledging the ppl who twist things for their own gain, I think you're not only missing the point, but you're also purposefully stacking the deck. If you look at the core tenets of Christianity none of the shit they were talking abt (like sex being seen as shameful) are actually an intrinsic part of the religion. It's weird to me to both ignore that Christianity's actual canon does NOT involve a lot of the harmful things the religion is known for, and to ignore that Judaism also has sects that have purposefully ignored or willfully misinterpreted the Torah in order to push for things like imperialism, misogyny, etc.
Like..... it just comes off to me as someone who read a couple Tumblr posts abt progressive Judaism and just either doesn't know or doesn't care that conservative sects exist, or that, yknow, fuckin Israel exists. The way ppl have started approaching Judaism as some flawless baseline that can be contrasted against Christianity makes me uncomfortable, especially since it's so obvious that the ppl writing those kinds of posts are uh. Not Jewish.
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somaligovernment · 7 months
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Hate Rye Lane already I’m 20mins in and he’s fucked up a sensational meet cute that the girl completely carried
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iratusmus · 2 years
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i feel as if the gaping jaws of the earth have been rendered asunder beneath my poor unsuspecting feet and swallowed my soul directly into the coldest pits of hell
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (a Valentino production)
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
Valentino has acquired a living, breathing human in hell. But at the begging of Angel, Alastor makes a deal in exchange for her soul.
tags: Alastor x reader, smut, dubcon, mentions of assault (Val intended to "fuck you to death”), Val's existence, overstimulation, forced (?) orgasms, bondage (shadow tentacles), choking (sexy kind, not murdery kind), cervix wrecked, your aunt is a bitch
(author's note: I've been in Japan for like 7 years and my English has suffered, but your fucking smutty writing on this site has inspired me to write for the first time in years.)
Minors DNI
Angel burst into the hotel lobby, winded. “Please, you gotta do somethin’!” 
To the surprise of everyone, he ran straight to Alastor, tears forming in his eyes.
“Val’s gonna hurt her real bad. I don’t know who else to ask, please. I can't—-“ he cradled his head in his hands, “I can't watch him break any more people.”
Alastor didn’t seem to react at first, but Charlie appeared at Angel’s side and pulled him into a hug, “Angel, take a deep breath. He’s gonna hurt who? What’s wrong?”
“He got a new soul. Some fucking cultist offered her up as sacrifice. But she's not dead yet Charlie—- he dragged her down here alive.” His voice cracked, “He wantsta— he said he’s gonna fuck her to death on camera and wait for her to respawn in hell. He’s convinced he’ll make a fortune off the tapes. Please, for fuck’s sake someone has to do something.”
A human in hell? Well, that was something interesting after all. With a raised brow Alastor spoke, “And how exactly can I help this poor, unfortunate soul?”
“Make a deal or– rip his arms off, I don’t fuckin’ know! There has to be something you can offer Val worth her soul. I’d give you my soul if I could!”
Well that’d be worthless.
But a human? A living, breathing human? Intriguing.
“Alastor you have do something. This isn't right! Hell isn’t for the living.” Charlie’s hair flew upward as her eyes flashed red for a second, “I’ll repay it somehow.”
Well there's no harm in taking a look. 
The demons and sinners who saw Alastor walking into the Vee’s tower oscillated between fleeing for their lives and live tweeting the event. Either a truce or a war would be breaking out and they knew they’d be fucked regardless.
“Alastooor”, Val exhaled,  letting the name drag out lazily, “Come to ruin something, I’m sure.” Val hadn’t seen Alastor since his fight with Vox 7 years ago, and he hadn’t expected to see him in his studio— ever. 
“Ha! No, not today. Word got around that there's a special little guest hidden in your studio.” Alastor’s eyes darted about the room, uninterested in the various parts and bits of the actors changing.
Val glanced at Angel, who’d suspiciously returned some 30 minutes before Alastor appeared. 
“I didn’t say nothing, Val.” Angel’s hands went up in defense. “He came to me askin’ about her.”
“And what exactly do you want with my “little guest”?” Val dropped any pretense of politeness. 
Alastor leaned forward on his microphone, and with a pop of static he practically cooed, “To see the poor creature, of course.”
Val ashed his cigarette into a cameraman’s hair and walked off, “Fuck it, sure. She’s back here.”
The back room was dark, perhaps some would call it mood lighting but what mood exactly it conveyed fell somewhere between dungeon and power outage.
You sat on your knees in the center of a round bed. Arms held above your head by a large clip attached to wrist restraints. Your body swayed slightly, a long rope anchored to the ceiling and tied to the clip above you.  Your body was slightly suspended, knees barely making contact with the bed beneath you. The white nightgown you wore was bloodied and ripped at the collar, causing it to slip down your left shoulder. Jaw clenched, your eyes were covered with a red satin tie. 
Alastor took the scene in. Your lip was cut and swollen, bruises peppered your cheek and exposed shoulder. Yet, you were breathing heavily, like a bull about to rush them. You were clearly defenseless, but somehow still defiant. His smile grew to his ears. It had been decades since he had a human in such a prone state.
“Have you …. broken her in yet?” He asked delicately, eyes never leaving your face.
“Nah, just roughed her up a little. I want to capture her raw reaction on camera when she takes her first demon cock.” Valentino clenched his fist to emphasize the word “first”. 
Your head fell forward as you pulled down on your wrist restraints, a growl rising in your throat.
Alastor felt his breath get caught in his own, your nightgown riding slowly up your legs as you struggled. 
“Hey!” Val snapped his fingers in your direction. “Don’t embarrass me. Our guest came to see you. He’s considering making an offer for you, I’m sure, so say hello like a good girl.” Val rolled his eyes, “Sluts always fucking embarrassing me.”
You tried to gather enough saliva to speak, finding the taste of blood still on your tongue. “Fuck you and your friend.” barely made it from your chapped lips. When was your last drink of water? Last meal? How long had you been unconscious before this all began?
“Not friends.” Alastor was quick to retort, “The name’s Alastor, my dear. It’s a pleasure.”
You sneered, a pleasure? What a sick joke. 
“Alastor.” you repeated it, disdain dripping from your lips.
The absolute contempt with which you said his name did something to him. His eyes darted from your mouth back to your inner thighs, exposed from the rising dress. Your mouth was so rude but your body looked so sweet. A little lamb– no, a doe.  
“Say it again.” It wasn’t a request, Alastor himself was surprised to hear himself say it with such demand.
You thrashed. “Oh is that what gets you off? You wanna hear your name in my mouth?” You said mockingly. “You’re just as FUCKED as him.” The nightgown rode up even further. Alastor’s tongue stuck to his teeth as his mouth went dry. Had you been delivered to Val without panties? Offered to him in just this sheer cotton night dress? What was happening to him…
 Static bit your skin as a low hum filled the room. 
“Say it.” Alastor’s voice dropped an octave, eyes suddenly taking on a slight glow. You couldn’t see the danger before you, but you felt it. Something primal in you knew you were in the presence of a predator.
No, you couldn’t see him, but his presence was pressing in all around you. 
“Alastor.” You seethed, “ALASTOR.” Pulling down on the restraints yet again you tried to find the strength to stand, “ALASTOR! ALASTOR!!” Your legs buckled under you having gone numb hours ago, his name devolving into a gutteral scream. All of your anger and despair ripped from your chest as you shouted his name. The nightgown had now ridden to your hips but you couldn’t find an ounce of shame in you to care. 
You were so full of rage, so defiant still. You were so…. alive.
He felt the blood rushing to his crotch in an all together forgotten sensation, and knew immediately his decision. “Let’s make a deal.” His eyes didn’t leave you, but Valentino knew he was talking to him.
Val let out a laugh, “I have some time to waste while they finish the set. Why not.”
Seated in his personal quarters, Val motioned for Alastor to sit opposite him. You had been left in the dark of that room, only knowing you were alone when the static died down and the hair on the nape of your neck relaxed. 
“Listen, Radio Demon. There’s nothing you have that could tempt me to hand over the little bitch.” His long arms rested over the back of his sofa, a heart shaped puff of smoke leaving his lips. Alastor swatted at the air as it approached. 
“What do you even need her for? You don’t deal in souls, but flesh. Surely you can find another toy to break on camera.” Alastor waved his microphone away.
“Hmm”, Val brought a finger to his chin in thought, seriously considering what Alastor could possibly offer him. “Oooh, I know.” His head lolled to the side,  “People have seen me fuck a thousand times. But no one’s ever even seen you with a partner. ‘Radio Demon fucks human sacrifice’” He motioned from left to right as if reading the words off an imaginary marquee, “Now THAT would make money. Real money. Fuck GOD levels of money.” A red liquid leaked from his lips as they were stretched across clenched teeth, his hips involuntarily humped at the air, “oh fuck. Yes. You do the porn, and I’ll give her to you. Soul and body.”
Alastor was looking at Val but his mind was still in front of you, his name tumbling from your lips. The uninterrupted skin where your thighs met your hips. The desperation in your scream. How absolutely soft and fragile you were. He adjusted his hips, trying to calm the twitching of his cock at the thought of you helplessly before him. 
“What exactly are you proposing?” His fingers came to rest entwined on his knee, one leg over the other.
“First, I have full rights to the video to do as I please.” Val counted out on his fingers, “The porno has to show penetration. No dry humping or some bullshit like that. I need you fucking that whore if I’m gonna sell this shit. Aaand”, A sickening grin grew on Valentino’s face, “She has to cum. And I’ll know if she’s faking it. If you don’t manage all three, the deal is off. I keep the human and all rights to the video for per— no, *in* pep-“ he sputtered, “perpur- forever! Fuck.” 
Alastor’s default grin was now so wide his gums could be seen peeking past his lips, his eyes flashing to dials, “It’s a deal.” He extended his hand to Valentino as he stood. A green light was shining from the open palm but Val shook it regardless, confident the deal's conditions wouldn’t be met. He’d seen a lot of fucked up shit on his set, but the Radio Demon, famously uninterested in sex, wasn’t going to make a battered human cum. How stupid could Alastor be, he thought. And he’ll have the video of Alastor failing to please someone to broadcast all over the pride ring and beyond. “May I have a moment alone with her before the filming?”
Val rolled his eyes, “yeah but don’t fuck her off camera.”
The sudden feeling of a hand on your hip startled you so intensely you let out a yelp. 
“Hello, my little doe.” Hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, then your neck, then your collar bone… “Unfortunately your shoot will still continue today. But if you do as I say, I promise you’ll leave the studio alive.”
You felt the nightgown being tugged back down your hips, hiding your exposed sex.
“I will be taking that pompous moth’s place. I will be as gentle as I can, but he will want to see you suffer. You must still fight me, must act pained. Can you play along?”
Your eyes darted behind your eyelids. He sounded— gentle? His voice was soft against your skin. Maybe he was truly the lesser evil of the two. You nodded. You’d heard all the gory details of what the other demon had planned for you, this sounded infinitely more tolerable. You dare thought you’d suffered worse before. 
“And, one more little caveat, darling. I will bring you to orgasm, so please don’t fight so hard as to delay your release.”
You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until his words punched you in the gut. 
“I-“
“Yes?” Alastor’s mouth was nearly on your neck, his smile ghosting your skin.
“I’ve never—- I mean I can only do that by myself. No one else has managed to-“
A large hand patted your head, cutting your train of thought off. How big was he? His hands could palm a basketball. Could he really be gentle? Was he capable of it? Were those hands going to be on you soon? Your mind was running away with the thought of this strange demon fucking you on camera. 
“Oh don’t worry about that. Just focus on your performance. We have to put on a good show!”
Angel was practically chewing his fingers off as he watched the crew finish the set.
“Alastor what the fuck, I thought you were gonna help her!”
“I am, my effeminate friend. Have a little faith in me.” He adjusted his bowtie and took his place on set.
“I have none. I have negative faith, Alastor. Fuuuuck”, Angel slumped against the wall behind him and sank to the floor. 
The stage was set. A red sigil was painted on the floor of a cabin, candles lit around the room as the only source of light (except the stage lighting hanging above the scene). Of the three walls they’d made, the far left wall had an altar haphazardly filled with flowers, a golden bowl, and small plaid satchel.
Someone — something? — led you by the restraints to the stage. Blindfolded, you were pushed down to the floor, forced to sit on your still numb legs. The leather cuffs on your wrist were unbuckled, allowing you to flex your hands. When you reached for the blindfold a hand smacked at yours.
“No no, keep it. I want you to look exactly how I found you.” The familiar voice of Val instructed. 
Someone handed a script to Alastor, but he pulled his hands away from the demon as if the paper itself was an angelic weapon, “Oh, no thank you. That won’t be necessary.”
“I’ll tell you what to say” Val said, clearly to you.
“It’s—- it’s fine. I’ll just do it like before. I don’t need any help.”
You really didn’t.  There was no improv needed. You could repeat exactly what you said yesterday evening when you awoke on the floor of an unfamiliar place. You’d been visiting your aunt one moment, and alone in a weird room what felt like moments later. Groggy, but alert enough to know something bad had happened. 
You heard “action”, and then silence. You could feel eyes on you.
“Aunt Sara….” You whispered. “I don’t understand what’s happened… Are you still there?” You rubbed your wrists trying to regain some blood flow, readjusting your legs to do the same. 
You heard a strange sound, both yesterday and now. 
“Aunt Sara isn’t here. She’s made an exchange, she gets extraordinary power….and I get your soul.” The way Alastor said it, the way his breath seemed to almost hitch, surprised you. Something cold touched your ankle, causing you to flinch, “But I want more than that. I need more than that.”
You felt that something-unknown snake up your leg toward your center. Crawling backwards on your butt to create some distance you collided with the altar. The golden bowl rolled to the edge and spilled its contents across the table. You could smell the iron tang of blood before you felt the pitter patter on your shoulder. Alastor inhaled quickly before letting the air back out with as much control as he could manage.
“Who are you?!” You’d asked this already. But this time the disembodied voice of your captor replied, “Alastor, the Radio Demon! Pleasure to meet you.”
The right side of your face smacked against the floor of the makeshift cabin as you were dragged suddenly across the room and into the red sigil. The cold appendage on your leg now tightly coiled up your calf.
“No— you have to fuck her with your fucking dick! You can’t use shadow tentacles!” Val shouted, nearly falling out of his chair.
“Now now, the deal didn’t specify with what, only that penetration must occur. Plus, I won’t show up on your video recording device anyway.” Alastor took several steps back, ensuring he was not in frame, “Rest assured, your audience will know it is me.” His words cracked and stuttered like someone had changed the station midway through his sentence.
A small, “fine, whatever.” was grumbled and the scene continued, the tentacle snaking its way up your thigh as Alastor chuckled softly at how you flinched against him.
You rolled onto your stomach and tried to kick off the shadow but it held firm. Letting out a groan you used your hands to drag yourself back towards the altar. Before you could reach the table your other leg felt the pressure of a new tentacle twist around your knee as you were dragged back toward the Radio demon once again.
Your nightgown was forced up, your ass now exposed and in the air as your legs were pulled open. That was as far as you had really gone yesterday, before a flash of light delivered you into the Pentagram City studio. 
Surprisingly, you felt embarrassed, self conscious knowing there were other people in this room. But as if he could read your mind, or perhaps just noticed the tremble in your legs, Alastor softly said, “It’s only us now, darling. There’s nowhere to hide.”
Third and fourth appendages appeared around your waist and neck. Effortlessly your hips were lifted off the floor, your cunt on full display to the man who now owned you. The tentacle on your neck slipped between your shoulder blades and pressed your chest firmly to the floor. You squirmed and struggled against the restraints but only accomplished to draw another chuckle from Alastor.
“Relax. We have forever, after all. We can take our time.”
You felt pressure at your entrance, and your pleas to stop were cut short as a shadow tentacle pushed its way inside you. It was cold, but quickly began to warm as your heat enveloped it. Your body was resisting it, too tight to take it all in one thrust, but you could feel it slick against your lips easily enough to make its way inside.
“Ooh, my dear, your wet little cunt betrays you.” He cocked his head to the side, antlers doubling then tripling in size, “Have my words affected you so much?”
You could feel the tentacle’s shape shift slightly inside you as if it were adjusting to you and not the other way around. True to his word, there was no pain except from the burning stretch of your hole against the girth of his shadow self.
Hissing, you thrashed against the sigil, “get OFF OF ME!” Pushing against the floor you barely got your shoulders an inch off the ground when you felt a nth appendage graze sloppily over your clit. You stilled, suddenly remembering your end of the deal. Your promise to the demon now circling your clit with his shadow. If you couldn’t do this, then the entire filming was for nothing.
“Don’t forget to breath. I can’t have you dying on me just yet, sweetheart.” The static was slowly building in the air around you again, a silent threat.
Your hand shot to your mouth, trying to smother the depraved sounds being fucked out of you. The tentacle in your pussy was now ramming against your cervix, curving and bending as it repeatedly forced its way in and out of you. The room was quiet, except for the slick, sticky sound of the tentacle coated in your fluids pulling nearly completely out of you before smashing back in. The pace was slow and cruel, but the pressure on your clit was fast and hard. Your mind was starting come undone, your thoughts splintering. You couldn’t focus on anything anymore, all over your body was pressure, pleasure, massaging, pushing, and pulling. 
“Ah ah, that won’t do.” Alastor practically sang the words as an appendage pulled your hands from your mouth and brought them to the small of your back. 
You whimpered, trying to find a balance between the overstimulation and the need to not let them see how much you were getting off on this. You needed to hate it more. Hate him more. Your cheek stuck to the wood of the floor as drool leaked from your open mouth, unable to keep it closed any longer. 
“I’ll—” Your strength was nearly gone, but you managed to knock your upper body around the sigil, smearing the still wet blood across your chest. You only managed to whisper into the flooring a quiet, “I’ll fucking kill you for this.”
The tentacles stopped, for a second you felt tears sting your eyes at the loss of friction. A loud screech made you wince, but you had no time to question it as your body was violently flipped. Your hips were slammed down onto the ground, held tightly by a tentacle around your waist. The back of your head ached as it was jostled in the turn. The shadows on your thighs now seemed determined to bruise you as they constricted around your skin. 
“What was that, dear?” The tentacle in your pussy seemed to swell inside you, the force of the thrusts picking up in intensity. He was ramming into your body with such fervor you felt the skin of your ass chaffing on the wooden grain beneath you.  “Speak up, now”, you heard him exhale forcefully, his controlled appearance hanging on by a thread.
“I-”, your mouth opened to continue your resistance when a new sensation stopped you. A second tentacle was trying to squirm its way into your heat, just above the now uncomfortably thick one twisting around inside of you. The pressure on your stomach from the force made you feel sick, but the devoted ministrations on your clit had your legs twitching against the restraints. “Ah–! no, wai-” It managed to slip itself into you, and with no hesitation it was pressing against your g-spot in a matching rhythm to the tentacle swiping over your swollen clit.
You’d never before made a sound like the one that was pulled from your throat. It was ugly and animalistic and took you by surprise. Still struggling to catch your breath, you threw your head back. You were losing control. As your body was rocked against the ground, the blindfold got caught in the friction and slipped down your nose. 
Bringing your head back up, you finally locked eyes with your new master. 
“Alas-” Another chilly tentacle came to your neck and began to lightly squeeze. You could only breathe out the rest of his name as your eyes met with his. He stood some feet from you, just outside of the sigil, barely on the set at all. He seemed nonplussed, antlers looming over you and suit perfectly neat, except one detail. His pupils dilated when you finally set your eyes onto his. The grip on your neck only stopped tightening when you stomped your foot down in fear of passing out. You didn’t break eye contact, a fire burning in you that told him no matter what he did you wouldn’t be broken. That look in your eyes, the contempt mixed with overwhelming pleasure made Alastor shift one foot in front of the other in an effort to better conceal the erection straining against the zipper of his pants. 
“Mmmhhh–” You finally broke contact as your eyes rolled back into your head, the pressure beneath your belly was building, a tightness threatening to snap. But this wasn’t like before, this wasn’t like when you were alone in your bed with your own hand. It felt like too much, your heart was pounding so hard you thought you’d really die. There was no way your body could continue this much longer, your heart would surely give out.
“Please–” You needed him to stop, the ghostly hand on your throat, the two tentacles pressing against your cervix and g-spot, the unrelenting pressure on your clit. It was too much, it was too sensitive. “I’m sorry, please. Pleeea-” you gritted your teeth, thighs twitching as the muscles in your core tightened.
“Going to cum, my little doe?” Through gritted teeth of his own Alastor asked you as if you had any choice in the matter. He forced your knees up to your shoulders, allowing the tentacles to reach new depths. 
“AaaaHH” You convulsed, “I’m yours, Alastor!” You moaned, willing to say anything to stop the overwhelming feeling as the coil snapped, you were orgasming on this demon’s shadow and for the love of all that was unholy he wouldn’t fucking let up. You did what he said, but he wasn’t stopping. His thrusts didn’t slow, your clit was throbbing and your body shaking uncontrollably. All defiance was dead, your fire snuffed out. Your eyes were glazed and unfocused. Your head hit the floor again as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight, “It’s all yours. My soul is yours! Please- sto-” Another orgasm was being fucked out of you, no recovery from the first. “I can’t, I can’t” Your jaw locked, the way your cunt was spasming and tightening around his shadow appendages nearly pushed them out of your body with the strength of your first forced orgasm. The lights in the room flickered and popped, the candles blew out with a sudden gust, static drowned out your voice from everyone but Alastor as you screamed through the second orgasm. A green light erupted from the smeared sigil beneath you, blinding the crew and onlookers. “My body is yours! My soul! It’s all yours. I give you all of me, Alastor! Alastor!!” Your vision went spotty, and your throat seemed to close around your voice. Your face was red with the strain of your orgasm. You’d never felt unrelenting pleasure like that before and in that moment you’d have given him absolutely anything he wanted from you. Everything. It was his. You were his. He owned you inside and out.
The bullying of your cunt finally calmed after your orgasm began to edge away, your breath no longer stuck in your throat. He didn’t stop, but he slowed down to a lazy pace as what few lights managed to survive flickered back to life. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you looked over your wrecked body to Alastor. His eyes were wild, his bangs damp and clinging to his forehead. His smile was manic, sinister almost. He looked truly demonic. A wave of fear carried a chill down your spine.
The tentacles withdrew, the sudden loss making you feel colder somehow now than before. They had taken on your own heat and matched your temperature so perfectly, now your body felt empty. You felt naked. Your cunt was still clenching, but around nothing at all. It felt…like something was missing now. Your body seemed to be upset at the loss of contact. It made your stomach turn.
You flinched when the radio demon approached you, but instead of tearing you to pieces like his grin had promised, he slipped his suit jacket off and laid it over your body. You hadn’t realized the dress was torn and lying beneath you in a wet pile of blood and sweat. The confusion must have been evident on your face, because Alastor’s appearance shifted. Antlers now small, if not tiny between his ears. His eyes a red and pink, lids half closed. His smile was just a line across his face, no teeth at all. He looked like a gentleman, had you not known what he had just done to your pussy you’d have thought him incapable of such impropriety. 
“Good job, my little doe.” He whispered before you were handed a glass of water by a tall stranger. 
“Wow, you’re kind of natural at this babe. I haven’t seen a performance like that in ages.  Are you okay?” You took the water from him but didn’t open your mouth to reply, instead transfixed on his appearance. You’d only seen Val and Alastor until now. “You can call me Angel. We’ll get you home soon. I swear.”
Your eyes flitted to Alastor’s, did he know? He must have, he must have felt it. Of course he knew. In those final moments, you hadn’t been acting. Not an ounce of your pleasured responses were disingenuous. Not a single word a lie.
Alastor helped you to your feet as Angel placed a robe over your shoulders. Alastor hummed as he put his jacket back on, a satisfied sound coming from his chest that almost sounded like a song. 
Val sat in his director’s chair with his legs crossed, mouth open. His cigarette was mostly ash, delicately lingering on the stub.
Alastor placed a hand on the small of your back as you were guided to the door. Looking over his shoulder he grinned to Val, “It seems our deal is done here, Valentino. She’s mine, in perpetuity.”
(Part two)
༻Masterlist༺
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guinevereslancelot · 1 year
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i hate when an actor i dislike is in a genuinely good movie
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steveshairychest · 11 months
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Thinking about a deaf actor Steve Harrington x sign language interpreter Eddie Munson au.
Thinking about them doing interviews together and half the time it's just Eddie rolling his eyes and signing to Steve 'This guy asks really shit questions.' 'He thinks you're hot, can I tell him we're dating?' They weren't even dating yet. A lot of the time, Eddie has to smile and sign, 'He told a bad joke, laugh.' 'Too much, it wasn't that funny.'
Thinking about Steve eventually learning how to lip read and not needing Eddie to interpret as much but still bringing him to every event because having Eddie by his side just feels right, they're best friends after all.
Seeing them together becomes such a common sight that when they're on their own, they're immediately asked where the other is. A popular picture of Eddie features him wearing a shirt that says, 'Steve's not with me. Leave me alone' and it covers magazines for weeks.
Thinking about Steve finally getting the courage to confess to Eddie while he's standing up on stage after winning an award.
They've both been too scared to say anything, scared that talking about their feelings would ruin their friendship, but standing up there on that stage, Steve decides he doesn't want to be scared anymore. He signs, 'I love you' directly to Eddie, who's sat in the front row as Steve's plus one, and Eddie laughs, cries, and signs it right back at Steve.
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transmascissues · 2 months
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it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?
first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.
one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.
this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.
oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.
basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.
but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!
at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.
just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.
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talaok · 10 days
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Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…
warnings: jelousy
a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 
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It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...
and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face one... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.
But it still wasn't hate
Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits
And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?
"You're staring"
Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you
"I just don't get why he's here"
You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"
"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,
"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"
Yeah right
He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.
You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 
he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,
and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.
"I saw him look at you before"
This time, you did let out a little snort
"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"
But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you
"I'm sorry to interrupt-"
Then fucking don't
"I just wanted to introduce myself" 
Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior
"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy
"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"
As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists
This fucking guy-
"Hi pal"
Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off
"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"
The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea
"Oh, I didn't know you were married"
Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room
Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 
How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?
It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious
"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"
"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him
"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"
Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye
"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"
Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it
He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement
"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"
Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly
"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"
"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 
You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place
"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement
"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""
Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head
"listen, man-"
"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"
Shawn let out a loud breath before responding
"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"
"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"
You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time
"that was a bit harsh"
Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist
"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked
Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength
"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck
"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing
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monzamash · 1 year
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ruin the friendship — charles leclerc
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summary – maybe you were a little more than friends but that was between you, charles and god. nobody else. and you refused to be the one to break the pact. pairing – charles leclerc x you (female reader) rating – 18+ (smut, language, sexual references, probably bad french/italian) word count – 2.5k a/n – “we passed being friends like 20 fucks ago” requested by anon. thank you! masterlist
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“Everybody get changed for dinner and we will meet downstairs at the restaurant in an hour. Le Bein?”
The group of nearly a dozen of Charles’ co-workers, employees and friends all nodded in agreement and went their separate ways in the foyer, buzzing about how beautiful the resort was. And it was truly magnificent. Extravagance fortified every wall, even the ceilings. Chandeliers dangling from the rafters above, sparkling and flaunting the huge amount of wealth that was stashed away in the Italian Alps. Eye-watering amounts of wealth.
You weren’t enamoured like the rest because simplicity was more your taste, minimalist living was the way of the future and you weren’t afraid to voice that to Charles as he walked up beside you, eyes trained on your rolling ones. His hand was dangerously hovering above your lower back, the large puffy jacket the only thing keeping his hot touch barricaded from your cool skin – he couldn’t help himself.
“It’s over the top but Ferrari is paying for all of it,” He whispered into your ear, too close for your comfort, especially around his brothers who were no doubt watching your every move – adamantly sceptical that you and Charles were just friends.
“I should report you for misuse of company funds, sir. And if anyone from work asks why I was here when we get back next week – it was a coincidence. Purely happenstance.”
“Si,” Charles drawlled, toggling between his native tongue and Italian, which always threw you off, “You coming up to my room after dinner will just be some luck too, yes?”
You could hear the smirk on his face before you let your eyes glance his way, breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck and again, standing way too close for a pair of colleagues who, by chance, had accidentally found themselves in the same place, at the same time. That was the story and you were sticking with it. Unfortunately Charles was a horrible actor – that much was obvious since the moment he sparked up this unlikely romance with you but in his defence, his impulses were intensified after weeks of being away from you. And you felt the same.
The relationship wasn't exclusive by any stretch of the imagination in the beginning, but as time went on, you became loyal to each other. The friends with benefits label was a facade for the public and for your employment but deep down, you both knew there was more to your relationship than just sex. You knew each other so intimately and spent hours staying up ‘til dawn, sharing your deepest, darkest secrets. He made you feel safe, like you were more than just a girl who happened to work for the same company he worked for. It was easy to get swept up in the lavish lifestyle and reap the benefits that came with it but Charles saw you differently – saw life differently. And to him, you were the missing piece to his puzzle.
You were friends’ first – great friends but he was charming and by far the most attractive man you’d ever laid your two eyes on. And by some miracle, he felt the same way about you. But all of that meant your friendship had been compromised, your working relationship was hanging in the balance because if either of you caught feelings and made them public, then you’d have to report it to HR and you didn’t want to lose what you had.
Because sneaking around was kind of hot. Or really hot if you asked Charles and you didn’t want to burst his bubble. You weren’t that selfish and truth be told, you enjoyed the thrill of it. The secret glances from across a table when you were supposed to be taking notes, subtle touches whenever he complimented your suggestions in a meeting and riskiest of all, the quick fucks in his drivers’ room between qualifying blocks. That had unabashedly become a perk of your job and a scandal waiting to be blown wide open but you loved it.
“I think it might just be your lucky day, Leclerc,” You replied and looked away from the man who was seconds away from exposing your secret, calling off dinner and dragging you up to his room for dessert. But he was better than that and obviously he could control himself for a couple more hours. Surely. 
“See you soon then.”
He looked like a man tortured when you walked into the restaurant, all of your glorious curves swaying side to side, eyes on everyone but him. Since simplicity was your style, you’d gone classic – long, black satin skirt hiding the stilettos you wished you didn’t have to wear, paired with a black blazer and a white, lacy bustier top underneath. It was a fancy establishment, which meant everyone was done up to the nines, their best attire on display and you were pleasantly surprised that Charles hadn't caved to the pressure of appearances, marching to the beat of his own drum in a basic black tee. He still looked as delicious as the aperitini he’d already ordered for you, eagerly awaiting your arrival.
“For me?” You asked him politely, feigning surprise even though these were the little things he would do for you in place of physical touch.
“Of course.” He smiled, delighted that you took the seat directly across from him and not the one being offered to you by his annoying younger brother.
You are beautiful, he mouthed once everyone returned to their 'round the table small talk. You are. Charles had you blushing and fidgeting with your thin gold chain, as if it was first time he'd ever said that to you. It wasn't but it still had you squirming in your seat, grinning like a lunatic.
The 3-course dinner was sensational, and more than satisfied the hunger you’d conjured up during your long day on the slopes and Charles agreed wholeheartedly. He had also worked up quite the appetite retrieving you from the snow every time you stacked it, brushing the ice from your suit and cheeks, lingering longer than he should have. It was great fun but famishing once you all made it back to the resort.
“All my training has gone down the drain after that meal – my god.” Charles groaned and patted Andrea on the back with a mischievous smile, taunting his trainer and closest confidante. Andrea simply shook his head and muttered something to the effect of vaffanculo before disappearing into the bar with the others, sick of Charles' shit after being stuck with him in the Dolomites for the last 3 weeks.
You and Charles hung back from the group, both waiting for the other to send up the bat signal, or in your case, holding up the three-finger salute. Your first solo hang out – not a date – with Charles was watching the Hunger Games together, snuggled up with a glass of wine. Ever since, your signal to abort mission had been the sign used in that film and more recently it’d become your gesture for sex. Would you have liked it to be a little more sexy? Sure but it did the job.
“People are going to miss you, ma belle,” Charles whispered between the soft kisses he was sloppily pressing to your trembling lips, backing you against the only blank wall in the room.
“Don’t care.” You rasped, moans caught in your dry throat as you felt a pair of cold hands unzipping the long silk skirt you’d worn to dinner and gliding it down your shaky legs like it was as light as a feather.
A small gasp slipped from your lips as you caught Charles’ dark eyes again, his soft laugh fanning warmth across your face, "All I've been able to think about tonight is this..." He stammered off with a smirk before running his hands down your sides, pushing the thin blazer off your shoulders and gaining full access to the length of your neck.
You moaned quietly and brushed your dainty fingers through his soft, dark brown locks, "It's all I've wanted since we got here," You whispered and rested your head back against the wall, enjoying the feeling of his hands smoothing down your to your ass.
"You're so fucking beautiful," Charles growled against the tops of your breasts that were being pushed up by the tight bustier top, leaving you breathless and shaky under his touch. He got off on having complete control over your body, especially like this – desperate and panting for him in the darkness.
Charles dropped down to his knees and pushed his hands up under the hem of your top so he could access the waistband of your panties. You were spellbound now with your eyes closed and heart thumping in your chest, head dizzy and skin sizzling as he trailed his hands down your thighs, gliding your flimsy underwear down far enough that you could step out of them without needing to look.
"So sexy." Charles groaned at the sight of the dark red lace that had been hidden by your skirt, his hot breath now fanning over your shaky legs that were now completely bare and exposed to the cool air, even though your were burning up, "Le rouge n'a jamais été aussi beau." Red never looked so good.
His large hands gripped you thighs and roughly separated them in front of his mouth, every single little movement riling you up even more. Charles was ravenous, hungry to devour your after hours of deprivation – starved of your taste, of his name falling from your lips. He needed it, needed you to sing his praises, beg him for more and you never disappointed.
Your fingers brushed back up the side of his head as he hooked your leg over his shoulder and buried his tongue between your thighs, sending you into overdrive and taking your breath away. Your hands instantaneously gripped the tuft of brown waves on top of his head, trying to control the moans that were threatening to escape your chapped lips, his fingers doing the work of a maestro, orchestrating your body like a symphony.
"Feels so good," You whined as Charles grunted, mouth still attached to your cunt as he readjusted your leg on his strong, muscular shoulder, deepening the achingly perfect angle even further and making your already shaky legs start to tremble with pleasure.
Charles took your sensitive clit between his teeth, gently and pressed his free hand that wasn't clutching your thigh to your stomach, balancing you as best he could as you uncontrollably bucked your hips, riding his perfectly flat tongue. You placed your smaller hand over his and arched into his face, trying to alleviate the knot building in the pit of your stomach. He felt so fucking good and looked even better when you did dare open your eyes, peering down into his sinful ones.
The small smirk that appeared on Charles’ dimpled cheeks when your gaze met his was enough to send you spiralling into a whimpering mess, unable to stop the loud moan that ripped from your constricted throat – you were getting closer with every single teasing stoke he gave you, his thick fingers fucking you into a blackout and you were losing it. He muffled a laugh and didn't relent one bit as you white knuckled his wrist, attempting to hold in the noises that were so close to escaping, jaw clenched.
"I wanna hear you, bella – let me hear you," Charles panted as he glanced up and continued to taunt you, “I want to hear you moaning for me like this for the rest of my fucking life.”
Even in your orgasmic haze, you furrowed your already rutted brows at his comment, head throw back, still whimpering, “Friends don’t say that to each other, Charles.” You breathed, gliding on his unrelenting fingers, his pace slowing as he processed your words.
Charles scoffed and pulled back from your pulsing core, eyes trained on yours as he pressed a sweet kiss to your thigh, voice hoarse. “I think we passed “just friends” about 20 fucks ago, baby. You don’t have to pretend when it’s just you and me.”
It took you a second until you nodded silently, agreeing that you didn’t need to keep the act up with him. You brushed your fingers that had been knotted in his thick, beautiful hair, down the sides of his glistening face, lips raw and looking like a mirage.
“I like it when it’s just you and me.”
If you blinked, you thought he may disappear from your vision but he made sure you knew he was real, kitten licking your sensitive bud and reassuring you that he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.
“Me too.” He whispered.
It didn’t take long for Charles to resume his toe-curling assault, sending every nerve in your system into lockdown as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He’d put both of your feet on the ground, thighs spread as far as they go so you could ride his face, insisting that you came like that for him. The feeling of having every breath suppressed from his lungs while you let yourself go on his tongue, fingernails clawing at the skin on your thighs was worth the rush of blood to his brain. His face was beet-red, pupils blown out and he was achingly hard, scared he was going to blow in his pants like a prepubescent teen.
"Oh my fucking god, Charles," You moaned loudly as he reached up and pressed his palm firmly on your flushed chest, needing to feel your heart thumping under your skin, making him feel alive.
"I've got you."
"I'm – baby, I’m right there!" You cried out, head thrown back against the wall again as Charles eased you through your earth shattering high, panting and sweltering under his touch.
Loud moans echoed through the hotel room as he lapped up everything you had to give, holding you in place and making sure you were completely satisfied before removing his shaky fingers and pressing a couple of pecks to your reddening thighs – no doubt leaving bruises from his tight grip. You couldn’t wait to feel those small reminders of his touch in the morning. It took a good couple of seconds for your mind and body to float back down from the clouds above and god, it was a gorgeous sight when you did come to.
"You are so good at that," You breathed as Charles used your hips to drag himself up off the carpeted floor, hands still clutching your waist to also keep your knees from buckling. He knew you too well.
The sensation of his swollen lips kissing yours brought you back and without hesitation, you hooked your arms over his shoulders and deepened the kiss. His hands snaked around your lower back, bodies flush and you could finally feel how hard he was underneath his trousers.
Knowing Charles was that turned on from making you feel ethereal triggered a proud smirk to sweep across your flushed face, “Would you like some help with this, friend?” You teased, reaching down for the button on his pants, flicking it open with ease.
“It’s what friends are for, no?” He cockily replied before you clutched his stiff cock in your palm, causing him to gasp at the sensation.
“Absolutely would love your help – thank you very much,” Charles quickly added, desperate for your attention as he captured your lips in a rough kiss and nudged your body towards his messy bed.
“That’s what I thought,” You chuckled into the kiss, letting him cash in every single benefit he could imagine. All night long.
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let me know what you think!
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youremyheaven · 1 month
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Random Astrology Observations
Moon in the 1h is often talked about like 🥺🥺wears their heart on their sleeve🥹🥹uwu softie way but tbh Moon in 1h can make someone incredibly manipulative, they know just what to say and when to say it and know how to work their audience, this is perhaps why this placement is found in the charts of soooo many successful actors. ex: Leonardo DiCaprio, Audrey Hepburn, Henry Cavill, Charlie Chaplin, Priyanka Chopra, Antonio Banderas, Brendan Fraser, Benicio Del Toro, Jared Padelecki, Val Kilmer, Adrien Brody etc
I think this is a very manipulative placement, again manipulation is not in and of itself a bad thing, its what we use it for that matters. Some people completely lack the ability to manipulate at all (they don't have Moon influence)
2. Debilitated placements point to unconventional intelligence & wisdom in that area. I feel like they've cracked the code . They struggle a lot but when they triumph it's magic
3. I've mentioned this in other posts but many notorious sex offenders have Venus influence. Actions of this sort, as well as criticizing others' beauty, not taking care of yourself/surroundings, being shabby or disorderly in general are all things that harm your Venus. Abusing someone is the quickest way to ruin your Venus, you start corroding and that ugliness begins to manifest on the outside.
Ex: Harvey Weinstein looks like a cartoonish villain
4. As I explore the astrology content put out by others across different platforms, I've seen how the nature of the take themselves are so specific and unique to the person making them. Claire Nakti has a tendency imo to focus heavily on romance, sex and women's sexual behaviour and what sort of men they attract.
Going through her website, it's obvious that she's deeply immersed in occult & esoteric philosophy (all of which ties together with vedic astrology, philosophy, Buddhism etc because I truly believe that spiritual truths are universal and different schools of thought/religion/culture/mythology express these same truths in their own way with a LOT of recurring patterns) and Carl Jung as well.
It's studying Jung that helped me understand that what we see or draw from something is a reflection of who we are. As a beginner to vedic astrology, I initially believed Claire's one dimensional portrayal to be the all encompassing truth of a nakshatra until I started doing my own reading and research.
The things I talk about or the patterns I find are a reflection of me and I get a lot of asks about why I don't do xyz nak and honestly it's not as simple as doing research for an essay for uni, you kind of have to have a gnosis or innate knowing of its themes, something to base your search off of. And different naks call to me at different points. I come across content that describes certain naks in lights i could've never imagined which is to say that gnosis or inner knowing is an important aspect of studying anything esoteric, it kind of has to be revealed to you and what you see, what you can discern is a reflection of you.
5. you have to have a strong Rahu to discern patterns and similarities because Rahu is maya/illusion and a well-placed Rahu will allow you to see through those patterns/illusions. it will be very hard for someone without a strong Rahu to find similarities or common tropes, patterns, themes etc. Seeing through the veil or fog is Rahuvian.
6. Claire Nakti made a video about Venusian men where she said they were the ideal type of man and tbh that just confirmed my suspicion that she's Moon dominant because I think Moon dominant people are attracted to Venusians but in my humble opinion both Venusian men and Moon dominant men are some of the most batshit crazy people (manipulative and controlling at the least, psychopathic at worst) basically men who have a lot of Yin tend to be psychotic
7. I've noticed that Revati people tend to speak in a very verbose way. Nigella Lawson, Revati Moon is a really good example. Obviously other placements will also impact speech
8. Moon dominant people hate it when others share sob stories. They're the type to have the least amount of empathy for others and will either react in a neutral way or like they don't understand why you're saying this stuff at all. They're bored by other people's mundane problems and make it known as well. Not people you want to open up to.
My former friend was this way, I once cried in front of her and she showed zero emotion and didn't even try to comfort me lol
9. The way others treat us is the way we treat others. ik this is a basic take but karma is cause and effect. if you're dismissive of others feelings, other people will be dismissive of yours. what you do is what will be done unto you. Its so crazy to see how people who've been treated like shit by their friends will turn around and treat other people like shit. this is sooo basic but genuinely dont do anything to others that you dont want done to you.
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inoreuct · 4 months
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alternate universe where zoro isn't a swordsman or an actor but in fact a secret third thing (A LULULEMON AMBASSADOR)
okay maybe not lululemon specifically but if it was it’d be hilarious. any athleisure brand, honestly; sanji’s there as a leggings model and there’s talk of a new sports bra model coming in for their next shoot and he’s like oh!! a lovely lady!! that’s wonderful!! and he makes his best chewy chocolate chip cookies (with 60% cacao because he’s cultured) and brings them to the studio— but the new model happens to be late, so sanji’s wandering around on break with his cookies and hoping to be the first one to welcome them before he turns a corner and someone SLAMS into him.
he’s nearly knocked off his feet and he barely manages to keep the container of cookies from going flying because it feels like he just collided with a brick wall. the person grabs his waist to steady him, one hand on his hip and the other around his back, and he feels his tupperware bump against their jaw as his hands scrabble to find purchase on their shoulders.
once his brain's realised that he, in fact, isn't falling and eating shit, sanji looks up and freezes.
grey eyes and green hair and tan skin, long, long lashes, a strong nose and low-set brows and oh, he's so close. sanji's breath catches as fingertips press gently into the side of his ribcage—
and he squawks as he's dropped unceremoniously to the floor, whipping his head around so furiously his neck cracks as the guy just steps over his legs and keeps on walking.
"hey!" sanji shouts, climbing to his feet as he tries to ignore the way he's flushing with anger and something-else-he-will-not-name-please-fuck-off. "who the hell do you think you are?!"
the guy turns back, looking almost bored as he drones, "an employee."
"what, they hired you to haul equipment?" sanji scoffs, and his stomach sinks when the guy flashes him a grin that's sharp enough around the edges to look dangerous.
"no. i'm modelling the new sports bra collection."
and oh. sanji has to put a hand on the wall so he doesn't sit right back down as the guy walks out of view. this can't be happening. he's gonna jump right off the fucking roof.
he stress-eats all his cookies, fuming mad and pacing a groove into the floor, and he’s still licking crumbs off the corners of his mouth as he storms back onto the set. zoro’s already standing there, sports bra on and arms up as the staff fuss around him, making adjustments and asking him about the fit, and sanji’s eye is twitching. that is not a lovely lady. that is an OGRE.
(who just so happens to have muscles for days and the nicest chest sanji’s ever seen in his life BUT THAT IS BESIDES THE POINT.)
and of course they start bickering almost immediately.
this guy’s an athlete, not a model. he’s stiff and stubborn and coarse and sanji learns his name is roronoa zoro, some hotshot kendo champion who’s only here because my sister signed me up, so you can blame her for ruining your day, your majesty, and ooooooh. sanji wants to kick him. sanji wants to kick him so bad.
zoro thinks sanji’s some sort of spoiled pompous brat (honestly at the moment he’s acting like one, he is self-aware, but it’s his defense mechanism okay??) and sanji can’t stand all the snide under-breath snark that zoro’s slipping him after every sentence. they have to film zoro running to prove that the sports bra actually works and sanji pretends to trip and faceplant so he has an excuse for his nosebleed.
they pause the shoot for the day after that; sanji’s off like a rocket and clearly avoiding people so why is the mosshead following him. he speedwalks to the carpark with zoro stuck right to his side and gets progressively faster until he can hop on his bike and pedal away and then zoro starts RUNNING next to him?? and sanji’s like HOW ARE YOU KEEPING UP. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU and he’s pedalling as fast as he can and at this point even zoro’s a little out of breath and he gasps “GO OUT WITH ME” and sanji jams on the breaks so hard he nearly flies off his damn bicycle.
“what.” it’s the first thing that’s out of his mouth. they’ve skidded to a stop in the middle of some small side street; zoro’s earrings are chiming against each other, and the thought that they sound surprisingly sweet crosses sanji’s mind. “what.”
“go out with me,” zoro repeats, hands on his hips as his chest heaves.
sanji blinks. “why?” they’ve been nothing but animous towards each other thus far, and he likes to think that most of his dates actually like him.
the green-haired man shrugs a shoulder. “dunno. i’ve got a good feeling.”
“a good feeling,” sanji echoes, caught between disbelief and some sort of alarmingly fond disdain. “guess everybody’s gotta depend on something, huh, algae-brain?”
zoro just stares at him and says nothing.
“…oh, alright, fine!” sanji yells, throwing his hands into the air. “unbelievable. i can’t believe i’m doing this. seven o’clock, makino’s pizza, and do not,” he hisses, leaning in as he jabs a finger into zoro’s sternum, “be late.”
(zoro is late. sanji refuses to admit he’s disappointed for the entire thirty-seven (not that he'd been counting) minutes he waits, poking unenthusiastically at his milkshake and cursing this stupid guy for playing what was probably a stupid mean joke on him and cursing himself for falling for it.)
(at minute thirty-eight, zoro bursts through the door red-faced, rain-soaked, gripping a bottle of wine by the neck and raking his sodden hair off his forehead. the bell's not even done ringing before he's found sanji and is sliding into the opposite side of the booth seat.)
"sorry," he breathes, leaning against the backrest as he catches his breath. “i got lost.”
sanji’s too warm with the relief rushing through him to ream him out. “is that wine?”
“uh, yeah.” zoro sets the bottle on the table and turns it so the label faces away. “my dad owns a vineyard.”
sanji reads the thin cursive font, looks up at zoro as his eyes go wide, and reads it again. “your dad’s dracule mihawk? he’s one of zeff’s oldest suppliers, how did i never…”
the other man huffs a laugh. “adoptive, which explains the the lack of family resemblance. both me and my sister perona.”
“oh my god. the famous paranormal blogger perona.”
“mhm.”
sanji blinks twice before shaking himself out of it, taking a big gulp of his milkshake. “your family’s wild.”
“tell me about it,” zoro chuckles, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. the hems of his pant legs are dripping onto the floor. “how ‘bout you? anybody i’d know in your family tree?”
“well,” sanji begins, thinking. “my dad’s red leg zeff. runs the Baratie?”
“the seafood place? my best friend’s there every week!”
“no.” sanji’s starting to grin as he sits forward. “blinding smile, bottomless stomach, scar on his left cheek—”
“yeah!” zoro exclaims, and it suddenly hits sanji that this guy really does have a dangerous smile because if he keeps laughing like that, well. he doesn’t want to let himself hope quite yet. “damn. how come we’ve never met sooner?”
sanji shrugs eloquently. “wrong timing, maybe.”
it’s quiet for a while after that. they order a pizza to share and a side of cheese fries, and sanji is equal parts impressed and disgusted when zoro manages to shove an entire slice in his mouth at one go by rolling it up. they talk and bicker and joke and sanji ends up laughing so hard he’s rendered mute and slipping off the bench.
when the hiccups die down, he pushes himself up with one hand and sighs. “seriously, though. why?” why are we here? why’d you want to do this?
he doesn’t need to elaborate, though. zoro shifts back against the cracked cushions and tilts his head. “has any ever been able to keep up with you?”
"...no," sanji says quietly, and he can't help the hurt that stings hot and aching in his stomach. the shame that one word carries makes his face warm because he knows, he knows he's a lot sometimes— he’s been told as much by so many exes that he can’t even count them.
he knows zoro clocks the mood shift by the way the other man suddenly looks like he’s floundering a little, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he finally says, the words soft and a little rushed, and he doubles down when sanji flashes him a smile that’s more empty than anything else. “not at all. you’re the only one who’s ever been able to keep up with me.”
and sanji… doesn’t know what to make of that.
he drains the rest of his milkshake and slides out of his seat. “let’s get out of here.”
the park is mostly empty this late, and sanji snags the bottle out of zoro’s hands. cuts the foil with his house keys and works the cork out, moving to stuff it into his coat pocket before zoro gently takes it from him. it’s a red wine, rich and smooth, and it goes down easy; almost too easy. sanji’s home is a walk away and he can drink as much as he damn well wants.
it’s not logical, how he’s feeling right now. zoro had already clarified what he’d meant. and still it simmers in his gut, sour and cold, a feeling that makes him lift the bottle to his lips again. too much. always too much. too much love, too overbearing, how do you expect anybody to keep up, sanji? you’re too much. he goes in for another swig.
zoro’s hand wraps over his. “hey.”
irritation flares behind sanji’s teeth before guilt snuffs it out. the other man’s gnawing at his lip, slowly shifting the bottle down as they stop walking. “i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean to upset you,” zoro mutters, looking genuinely worried, and sanji’s next breath in aches.
“no, it’s— i’m sorry. i’m sorry. this is supposed to be a date,” he laughs weakly, digging his fingers into glass to try and ground himself. “and i’m drinking up all the wine.”
“it’s for you,” zoro rebuts, nudging him with a shoulder. “you’re supposed to be drinking it.”
he doesn’t. they start walking again, the wet cobbled path dappled by light shining through the trees, and sanji tucks the bottle against his front as he loops his arm through zoro’s. “this is a first for me, y’know,” he says, squeezing zoro’s bicep. “i promise i’m not usually this rude.”
“says the man who called me a badly-planted cabbage patch this afternoon,” zoro snorts, and sanji can’t help but laugh. “seriously, though, s’alright. i get it. we all have our sore spots; i just hadn’t gotten the chance to learn about yours.”
sanji pinches his lips together. that, right there— zoro is rough around the edges but he is kind. he stops where it counts. sanji had shown the slightest sign of discomfort and he’d stopped pushing. it’s bold, and crazy, and completely out of line in his own personal rulebook— but zoro doesn’t move away when sanji tips his head onto his shoulder, so sanji swallows to clear his throat.
“do you want it?”
zoro’s lashes cast long shadows on his cheeks as they flutter, and he looks down. “hm?”
“the chance.” it’s a little chilly out; sanji’s coat is enough, but he lets himself curl closer to the warmth radiating through zoro’s padded jacket. it cuts through the dampness that’s still not quite gone. “do you want it?”
zoro’s eyes flick over his face, widening imperceptibly when he realises that sanji’s serious, and the smile that pulls at his mouth is a slow, beautiful thing.
he presses his cheek to sanji’s hair. they’re both smiling when he takes the wine bottle and drinks.
(sanji makes more cookies when they have their next shoot. 70% cacao this time after he learns that zoro can’t stand sweet things, and he teases the shit out of the man about it being relative to both his taste in food and his taste in people.)
(zoro finishes the last crumb, very firmly tells sanji that he is wrong, and kisses him so thoroughly he goes light-headed.)
(and if some of the staff see them canoodling behind the water cooler, well. the chocolate sanji wipes off his mouth is the only evidence.)
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writing-rat · 9 months
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Those Damn Edits
Pairings: Jenna Ortega x Reader
Content Warning: G!P Jenna Ortega, Jenna Ortega has a penis, Gentle Sex, On Set, Semi-Public, AFAB Reader
Summary: Jenna catches their castmate watching sexual edits of her...
WC: 1379
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It was a casual day on the set of Beetlejuice. You were a side character, just one of the townsfolk. You was happy to be in the film though since you were around 1 of your favourite actors. Jenna Ortega. You smiled as you was on your phone on the side while Jenna had a scene with another townsfolk. You had on your headphones as you was just browsing through Instagram and taking photos before you was thinking. That’s when you was quickly switching to TikTok, thanking the gods that there was WiFi on set. You would be dead if not as you wanted to watch your Jenna Ortega edits in peace… well mostly since some people were still around.
You was halfway through a edit, unaware Jenna had finished her scene as you was transfixed by the edit. It was to the song ‘Treat Me Like a Slut’ by Kim Petras. You blushed as you was watching it. It was to scenes during Wednesday when she was injured at the end, but edited to make it look sexual as well as when she was Vada and got on top of Mia. You bit your lip before you was jumping at s touch. It was Jenna touching your shoulder. You jumped and quickly shut your phone off, looking at the up-and-coming actress. “Hey Jenna,” you spoke, trying to seem innocent. 
“Whatcha doing?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. “Saw a video of me after all,” she added on. You froze and shook your head.
“No. Just was on TikTok and an edit of you came on,” you explained, trying to act like you didn’t like it.
“Show me?” she asked. Embarrassed, you nodded and disconnected your earphones then played the video again, embarrassed. It had the red heart and showed it was saved to a collection too. In your embarrassment you missed her smirk. “I see,” she spoke and was thinking. “Meet me at my trailer after my scenes are done? Director said he doesn’t need you anymore,” she spoke. You nodded, thinking you’d get in trouble. 
“Yes ma’am,” you spoke, showing more of your embarrassment. In response she just nodded and left.
-
At around 4pm, Jenna was back in her trailer where you was sat on her couch, just looking on your phone as you was still rather embarrassed. You was watching your favourite YouTuber this time though as you was relaxed. Again, you had on headphones so you wasn’t aware she was there until she sat next to you. You immediately pulled the earbud out and looked st her embarrassed. “Hey Jenna,” you spoke quietly.
“Hey Y/N. So… why was it saved?” she smirked out. 
“I just… have a little bit of a celebrity crush on you,” you decided to admit, thinking it would ruin your relationship. 
“I see… who doesn’t?” she spoke cockily. “Anyways, I don’t mind. You have caught my eye after all too,” she spoke. “Every movie you are an extra in, I catch my eye on you,” she added on to explain. You blushed and nodded. 
“I am safe to assume I can kiss you right?” she asked nervously, you noticed. That’s when you held her waist and kissed her gently. She smiled as she held your face and kissed you back, closing her eyes. You kept kissing a few more times before it slowly got deeper and deeper. By the time you had been kissing for 5 minutes, you was pinned down against the couch, her on top and her hand trailing your side under your t-shirt. She slowly pushed her hands up, groping at your chest as she was surprised to not feel a bra. “You wanted me so bad, hm?” she asked against your lip, looking at you. You was nodding as you opened your legs up a little bit.
“Yes ma’am,” you responded, leaning into every touch. That’s when Jenna pulled your shirt off gently and eyed your chest before she was gently sucking your neck. 
“I feel like we are going 0 to 100 in this relationship immediately,” she chuckled out. You was nodding. 
“I’m fine with it if you are,” you responded. She smirked.
“I’m more than fine,” she then spoke, taking off her own shirt and taking off her bra. You also eyed her chest before she went down again and sucked a hickey on your shoulder, pressing her erection against your thigh. You gasped before you was trying to push against it. She smirked, slowly tugging your sweatpants down with your underwear, just wanting you already. She also did the same with her jeans and boxers, leaving them at her ankles.
“You a virgin?” she asked. You nodded your head, blushing at the size. You wondered how you would take it. “You need to be stretched?” she added on.
“Maybe, I don’t know,” you admitted.
“I’ll do it just in case then. That ok with you, Y/N? Safe word is pineapple,” she replied, to which you was nodding. Slowly but surely, she entered one finger, looking at you. You nodded your head as she was fully entering it. You shook yoir head once it was fully in, needing to adjust. She waited patiently and to distract you, she went up to your face and kissed you gently. You proceeded to kiss back as you held her waist. Soon she was moving it gently, still kissing you softly. You was moaning throughout. After a bit, you both had to pull away as she was slowly entering a second one. 
You moaned a bit louder as you arched your back, gripping her shoulders tightly. She was being careful and gentle as she thrusted it inside, glad she decided to do this. She soon used her thumb to rub at your clit. You saw stars as you couldn’t help but cum at that. “Sensitive little thing aren’t you?” she asked quietly to which you nodded. During that time she added her third finger and was certain she’d fit then. “May I enter you?” she asked quietly.
“Please do. I’m on the pill too,” you spoke, adding the last bit as you saw her about to grab a condom. She grinned and nodded before she carefully guided herself inside. You hissed in pain once she was halfway in. “Stop for a moment. Need to adjust,” you groaned out. After a minute, you nodded for her to move as she was slowly entering more inside. Eventually she was fully inside as you shook your head. “No moving plesse. Need to adjust,” you grunted out. 
“Of course. I’ll wait as long as you need to,” she spoke gently, rubbing your clit as she was kissing you gently. You gasped in the kiss as you held around her shoulders. You soon nodded in the kiss to which she moved slowly. She was doing slow, gentle thrusts as you both moaned in the kiss.
She was eventually speeding up but still gentle. “You can go rougher babe,” you moaned out. Nodding, Jenna got a little rougher as she moanded more.
“You feel so good,” Jenna moaned out as she was thrusting faster, causing you to gasp and hold on tighter. 
“You fill me so well,” you groaned out loud as you arched your back, your chest pressing against hers. That’s when she groped your breast and rubbed your nipples. Whining, you was leaned into the touch even more. “Please go rough and fast, you can now,” you whimpered out. Jenna was in shock before she nodded. That’s when she was thrusting harder and faster, moaning loudly while doing so. You was also the same volume almost, before you came all over her dick, where you was much louder. Due to the clenching Jenna also came inside as she held you tighter and closer.
 
You panted as you was both soon laid down on the couch. “Did we really just fuck on a couch?” you then asked, starting to laugh. Jenna laughed too and nodded as she held you. “Yep, and I’d do it again for you,” she spoke with a smile. You smiled and kissed her. “So we are official right?” You asked. Jenna nodded.
“Of course we are. Next time let’s go for dinner and drinks,” she spoke. You nodded, agreeing.
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i9messi · 11 months
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Hi love ❤💃 could you maybe write something with charles leclerc x girlfriend reader, maybe shes a actor and does a movie with harry styles maybe like don't worry darling and charles is jelous because every where are scenes of them kissing and having ,,sex" from the movie
Acting — Charles Leclerc
Word count: 720
a/n: fluff
charles' masterlist
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"Charles, baby, are you alright?"
You and your boyfriend had just arrived from the premiere of your new movie. Charles had been there to hold your trembling hands, to remind you that you were doing great, and also to bring you calm in all that commotion. It was your first starring role, a very important moment for your acting career and you didn’t want to ruin it.
Everything had gone very well, you had posed for the cameras and then in the cinema room you had sat next to your other co-workers and of course, next to your boyfriend. The film was applauded and you were happy with the result of your performance. It was a film that you had put a lot of time and effort into, and now that the movie had come out, you were proud of your work.
However, your boyfriend has been acting a little weird since he finished watching the movie. At first, he kept smiling, but once you finished watching the film, Charles had driven home quietly. Something was wrong, you could tell by the way his brow was furrowed and he didn’t say anything. Now that you were in the comfort of your home, your boyfriend went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.
You took off the heels that hurt your feet and waited for his answer. Charles finally spoke.
"Did you have to kiss so much?"
"Excuse me?"
"You and that guy. In every scene you were practically doing it, well, in a lot of scenes you were doing it."
You finally understood what was happening to him. Some scenes had been quite intimate between you and your co-star, that was true, but everything was fake and for the sake of the movie.
"It’s called acting. It wasn’t real, Charles."
"It seemed quite real to me."
"Are you jealous?"
"No."
Your boyfriend was a bad liar. You looked at him for a moment, his face showing how much he had bothered to see you kiss another man. He was serious, just like when during a bad race. It was a face you knew a lot, because whenever things went wrong, he would come to your side to find comfort.
"No way.... You’re actually jealous."
"Maybe I am a little bit jealous. But who wouldn’t be? You were kissing him!"
"Nothing was real, is just my job, Charles. It’s a movie, I’ve acted before and I can swear I never developed any feelings for my other teammates."
Even the scenes of sexual intercourse had been completely taken care of, you and your co-star had shared nothing but fake kisses. Charles remained upset about what had happened and you had the amazing idea to start laughing. It was funny because he didn’t have a real reason to be jealous, you couldn't care less about the other actor, not at least in the way he was concerned about.
"What are you laughing at? I don’t see anything funny..."
"You’re cute."
You narrowed the distance between you and him and decided to kiss your boyfriend. Charles seemed a little calmer once your lips came together, maybe all the questions and doubts disappeared once he knew you were there with him. The kiss you shared was true, his lips made you tremble and feel something in your heart. However, the kisses in the film had no meaning, you had felt nothing. You were in love with him.
"I love you, Charles. I choose you, I always choose you. It was just a movie and I was just acting, you don’t have to be jealous of anyone because I’m yours."
Charles finally opened his eyes and looked at you through his eyelashes.
"You’re mine?"
"Yes, I’m yours."
"Good."
This time, he kissed you. His lips joined in a warm kiss and his hands approached your face and your hair, in a desperate grip to draw you even closer to him. His hands then went down to your waist, leaving soft caresses on your skin, above your dress. You took your time to be able to breathe again, Charles had a unique way of making you feel loved.
"Sorry for everything. I just didn't like that too much, alright?"
"It's fine, love."
"I love you."
"And I love you."
"Kiss me again."
"But- mmph"
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