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#i had no idea on some of the talent behind these:
Note
Hey girl! Since you write 2 of my fave genres and saw your're accepting requests I hope that maybe this message reaches you and you will give my idea a try. It is of course some angst to fluff with Gojo x reader. Both in their 20s (let's say JJK0), reader is pretty new to the Jujutsu world but just as strong as Satoru, super funny and sarcastic but very chill (so a bit his opposite if you will). Shoko, being close with the reader notices that she has feelings for Gojo and she doesn't confess because of fear of rejection. Things get worse when reader *thinks* she sees him flirting and tries distancing herself and wallow a bit. So maybe at the end either something happens and Gojo confesses (in his own emotionally constipated way) ooorrr Shoko *helps* out a bit by having a talk with good 'ol Gojo (or both *wink*). Either way, you take this idea, turn it, twist it, do whatever your magical talented self wants with it and you have all the love from me (you have it nevertheless ^^). Thank youu
Misunderstandings Can Often Be Helpful {Gojo Satoru}
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A/n: thank you for requesting, I hope you like it
Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Trigger Warnings: none
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Everyone who knew Gojo in a relatively more personal level could see it. Geto leaving hurt him. His wounds were still fresh and bleeding but he was now the strongest. Alone. The word didn't even feel right, refering to himself as the strongest when he had been so used to saying "we" since Geto was supposed to be always there with him. His best friend. His one and only.
But life went on and soon a new student was announced. With the only exception that you were no regular student. After the arrival of Yuta in Jujutsu Tech, Gojo had naturally expected you to be more around the first years age. The shock on his face when he learnt that you were just a few years younger than him would forever remain imprinted on your meomory... and on paper since Shoko managed to take a picture of him.
When the principal told him about you, Gojo expected to see someone with no abilities whatsoever. He knew of course that you were almost on the same level as him power-wise and from Yaga's sayings, you had no idea how to control your powers. It went without saying that he had been assigned to be your teacher since he not only was the only one who overpowered you but because he was the only one knowledgeable enough to help you understand and control your powers. That was what he told Shoko anyways.
What he didn't expect however was to get his ass kicked both physically and mentally. And all that on your first day there as well.
"Whoah, were are you going?" He quickly stood up, stretching his back. The last kick you had given him behind the knees had been enough to make him realise that turning off his limitless was a wrong decision.
"To get some water, I assumed we were taking a break? You seemed really friendly with the floor." You opened the door, ready to walk out.
"Do you usually assume a lot of things?"
"It appears as such. I assumed you were stronger in physical combat."
Now that was a hit below the belt. Apart from Geto and occasionally Shoko, no one ever had the balls to call him... weak. Gojo Satoru wasn't weak. He was the strongest!
"Damn that would have looked great on camera..." Shoko shrugged, blowing out the smoke from her cigarette.
"Are you kidding me? I don't even have time to respond! It's one sarcastic comment after another!" Gojo chuckled before shouting a 'time out' for the first years.
After that day, Shoko took a great liking in you, mostly because Gojo seemed to be getting gradually better emotionally. In fact, she went to properly meet you the very next day. And the rest was history.
You and Gojo were the only reasons why she would stay up late in her office, waiting for your training session to end, just so she can catch up with all the latest gossip brought by none other than the new strongest duo.
But Shoko was no fool. Be it after training sessions, after missions or even after some casual nights out with the two of you, she had quickly picked up on the way you looked at Gojo. It wasn't really admiration. Hanging out with his annoying ass had brought your ego to the same level as his. It wasn't the expected teacher-student dynamic either. That had long been gone after you managed to give him a black eye (accidentally obviously) during your early days of training.
It was something else, something she could say was a developing crush on the world's most annoying human being. But it was fun seeing it. Gojo knew your favourite drink by heart and would order it for you before you could even open your mouth. You would slightly blush when he would pass it on to you after the waiter mistaking it for his order. On extremely rare occasions she would catch your apologetic expression as you brought him to her office after landing him a hit that wasn't supposed to hurt him at all. Not to mention how she would notice you looking at him during your breaks. Yes, that was what sealed the deal for her.
The only problem was... Shoko knew Gojo and most importantly, she knew the reputation that surrounded him and if not the reputation then... the crowds of women. Not to be mistaken though, Geto was surprisingly far more popular with women back when Gojo and him were teens.
"You're here alone? That's a new one." She patted Maki's back, signaling for her to leave as Gojo entered the office.
"Yeah well... y/n left right after practice ended." He groaned and laid down on the cold metal bed Shoko had. "She did strain her leg though so I don't know why she refused when I offered to take her to you."
Shoko's alarms went off. You, refusing help from none other than Gojo Satoru? The guy you had a crush on for the last year now? Sure, there had been a few times here and there when you refused to help each other out of pure banter but at the end of the day, both of you walked into her office together.
"What's with that smile?" Gojo raised the left side of his blindfold just to side eye Shoko. "It's creepy."
But Shoko's life had just gotten a new meaning because the very next day she was ringing the doorbell of your apartment. She knew it was Saturday, you didn't have any missions and no practice time with Gojo so this was the perfect time to learn what had happened the night before.
Shoko wasn't someone who liked gossip. Scratch that: she wasn't someone who liked to work in order to learn the latest gossip. To his credit though, Geto always brought her something juicy. With him now gone, she was counting on you and Gojo.
"It's... 8 in the morning... what are you doing here? Why are you even up so early?" You let out a yawn and stepped aside to let her walk in your apartment.
"I need to know everything." She removed her shoes and her coat. "And when I mean everything, I mean even the tiniest bit of sweat that ran down Gojo's exposed forehead that made you not come to my office yesterday." With an air filled with nonchalance, Shoko took the ashtray you had bought specifically for her and walked towards your balcony. She knew you didn't like the smell of smoke in your house. "Come on! I need words coming out of your mouth sweetheart!"
You would have made up an excuse. Shoko knew you would, she could practically see it forming in your head but she knew you weren't going to say it. Because she was your best friend and you were hers and in the past year, the two of you had shared more secrets with each other than she had with anyone else. Yaga's hemorrhoids? You had discussed that in your first week there. Yuta's crush on Maki? Been there, said that.
"Um... I just... does he have a girlfriend?"
"No? Why?"
"Because... like..." And then you finally caved in, taking the closest chair and placing it next to the one Shoko was sitting on. "Two days ago, after we had returned from our mission, I filled in the paperwork and as I was heading to Yaga's office I saw him talking to a woman... and she seemed both serious and flirty?"
"How did she look like?" Shoko asked a little hesitantly, hoping you weren't talking about the one she thought you were talking about.
"Tall, blonde hair, she was holding a helmet."
Her assumptions had been correct. "Yuki? Tsukumo Yuki?" She turned to look at you with wide eyes and a cigarette that was hanging so loosely from her fingers that could fall in any moment. When you didn't respond, Shoko bursted out laughing. "Are you shitting me? Yuki is a special grade sorcerer. She would never... god... anyways, I have to go to the office."
That was a lie. Shoko wasn't going to the office.
Conveniently enough, yours and Gojo's apartment were as close as a fifteen minute walk so when she finally reached the fifth floor of his flat, she wasn't breathless.
"If you don't confess to that poor girl in the next hour, I will personally call her and tell her that her contact name in your phone is love. With a red heart."
"It's almost nine in the morning what are you doing here? Why are you even up so early?" He let out a yawn but unlike you, he didn't let her in so Shoko just pushed her way in. "No matter the case, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh you do. You have bought her kikufuku over a thousand times. Kikufuku that were meant for you!"
"I am a person who likes to share." Gojo leaned against the kitchen bar.
"He is lying." The old lady that he had hired to clean his house on Saturdays spoke, walking out of his bathroom. "He keeps following me while I clean and talks about her. I even sent her a gift on her birthday since aparently I know her better than her own mother."
Shoko's eyes widened at the sound of this new information and it wasn't long before she started throwing the apples on the kitchen counter at Gojo.
It took Gojo three minutes to put on some nice clothes and he could swear that if Shoko was tall enough to reach him, she would be dragging him to your house by his ear.
"What's-"
"Have fun!" Shoko pushed Gojo inside your apartment and before both of you could protest, she closed the door and glued her ear on it so she could listen to every single word, every single comma said between the two of you.
"How's your leg?" He asked. If anyone were to grade him right now, maybe he could get a D- for the effort.
"I'll live."
"Um... so..."
Was he nervous? Gojo Satoru, nervous. Let me rephrase that: Gojo Satoru was nervous while talking to a woman?
"You have made huge progress this past year. And I appreciate that we..."
The truth was that not even Satoru himself knew why he was so nervous. He had performed this speech for months in front of his mirror even though he knew how unlike himself this was. Gojo Satoru never rehearsed love confessions because he never needed any. The girls confessed to him, not the other way around.
"We?"
"Please calm down a little. I am trying to remember the highlighted part at the corner of the page."
No, he hadn't written anything down. Hell, he had never even completed one rehearsal of this supposed love confession. But humour came naturally to him; it was the only way Gojo knew when it came to dealing with stressful situations. Especially after Geto left.
"I am glad we are the strongest um... together."
"Sure." You brushed it off, unaware of the amount of effort this poor guy was putting into confessing.
"Great, I'll pick you up at 7."
"For what?"
"Our date?"
"What date?"
"The one I am taking you on because I just confessed and this is what couples do?" A small pause followed and Gojo could practically feel the sweat staining his forehead even though he wasn't really sweating. "No?"
"8 works better."
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ktficworld · 3 days
Text
Behind The Red Curtains
Pairing: soft dark! Steve Rogers x actress! reader
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Summary: You come to know that your success might not be solely because of your talent.
Warnings: 18+, dub-con, forced relationship, bondage, size kink, degradation + praise kink, choking, oral(f receiving ), unprotected sex( it's fiction, your life's not), dirty talk, explicit language, explicit sexual content.
(Let me know if I forgot something)
Prompt: Oral sex, overstimulation, praise, Mob au, Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”
A/N: So, this is my entry for the cum together extravaganza hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18
I wanted to write this for a long time after the provocation by @biteofcherry 👀. I hope you all enjoy and this is my first time writing smut so, be gentle.
Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Main masterlist
Steve Rogers masterlist
“Johnny Storm was seen with the new sensation in the modelling industry yesterday night. Rumor has it-”
You pressed the switch-off button with more force than needed as the squeaky voice of the anchor finally died down. Throwing the remote across the bed, you groaned in agitation.
You were dating Johnny Storm. Everything was going well, the meeting was story worthy, he was handsome, charming and had some good qualities you were looking for. This was the first relationship you got into since entering the film industry. Because you may be a hopeless romantic, but you were also choosy.
You didn’t know what happened in the process that just torpedoed your budding relationship. One day you were walking out of a cafe hand-in-hand and the next day, he was fucking some modelling sensation. Maybe you got lost in translation.
Or maybe he was just a fucking asshole. No matter what happened it showed you his true colors. That or instead of coming to you to talk out his issues, he went around, fucking and ghosted you.
Oh, but that was not the problem. The real problem was that you were shooting a movie with him. A romantic movie, with sex scenes. And you have no idea how you would be able to show any affection or chemistry on the screen without being awkward as fuck. This would be the best test of your acting skills for sure.
“Why do you look like you regret being born?” your friend and manager, Wanda asked as she entered your room.
You glanced at her and rolled your eyes. She was trying to lighten your melancholic mood but, it was of no use. “You know damn well why.”
She sighed. “I know, but you’re a great actress. You could easily pull off a serial killer then a rom-com is nothing for you. Don’t get worked up about it. Just imagine your celebrity crush instead.”
You laughed at that. You worked with people whom the masses considered celebrity and if you had a crush, you’d simply ask them out. So, you’re stuck in that department.
“I appreciate your support and I’ll get over this. Just give me some time. Is that why you came here?”
Wanda shook her head with a smile. “No, actually the PR guy told me to tell you to go to partage restaurant. Someone wants to meet you.”
You frowned. “You know if I started giving time to ‘someones’ then I won’t even be able to breathe. I need the specifics.”
“He didn’t tell me. Said the person didn’t want to be known till you meet them. But he said you need to go or they’ll be pissed and it could pose a problem to your career.”
Some rich asshole again. You pinched your nose in frustration. People really glamorised a celeb’s life but if they knew that you all have to play rich people’s puppets, they wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about it. 
“Fine, I’ll go. What time and day?”
“8 p.m Sunday.”
“Great. Now get lost, I need my beauty sleep.”
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Your heels clicked on the floor as you stepped inside the restaurant to utter silence. 
The usually bustling restaurant was deserted. There was no violin swimming in the air, mingling with the chatter of the expensive people, the polished tables had no spilled drinks and the fine plates had no leftovers. The lobby had no sight of a reception and all the staff had evaporated out of existence. You were half doubting yourself that maybe you arrived at the wrong time or date. Maybe the restaurant was closed.
But all of them vanished when a prim and proper lady approached you. You had never seen her before but you didn’t care to ask if she was new.
“Good evening, ma’am, you may go to the VIP area upstairs. Sir is waiting for you there.” She said in a professional voice.
“Yeah, sure. But can I ask why the restaurant is empty?”
“He booked the entire restaurant.” She said like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was not like this place costed more than the top-paying actors in the Hollywood.
You thanked the woman with a polite smile you went upstairs to get to the VIP section.
The he made you shudder from inside. Another sleazy old man who thought that you would open your legs for him just because he was rich was awaiting you and judging by the stunt he pulled. You’d have to be more tactful.
Reaching the shiny golden doors with a lion emblem, separating the demi-gods from the gods, you knocked on the door of the VIP room.
“Come in.” A thick and deep voice called out, making you frown. How come an old man has such a great voice?
Oh, but how wrong you were. Because, as soon as you opened the door, in front of you, sat a man who was far from aged. He was pure muscles. His rings sparkled in the chandelier lights. Draped in the finest black suit with his blonde hair combed back, sat none other than Steve Rogers, the mafia lord of New York. The one who you have been trying to avoid your entire career. Who posed as a successful businessman but everyone was aware of how he earned his dollars. Just, they were too afraid to acknowledge it.
You couldn’t move an inch, frozen from fear and surprise. You had only met him once, during the premiere of your debut film and people had acted like he wasn’t someone who could wipe them off from the face of the earth without even blinking an eye. That night, his eyes were glued to you like Hades's gaze on Persephone. So intense and consuming that you never wanted to see him again.
And now, here you were.
“Sit down, darling.” He husked out, the sound of alcohol filling his glass reverberating through the walls.
Breaking out of your trance with a gulp. You pulled out the chair and sat down across from him while your heart was in your throat. “Good evening, Mr. Rogers. What brings me the pleasure of your company.’ You managed to get out without your voice cracking.
He smirked and leaned back on his chair. “It’s your beauty, your talent and your creativity that brings you here, sweetheart. I’m a big fan of art and beautiful things, you are both of them.”
“Thank you…” You drawl out, expecting him to continue.
“I liked you the moment I saw you. In your pink dress, you looked so innocent, so shy. Overwhelmed by the media attention. I knew you would do something big so I gave you the freedom to shine and shine you did. However, it looks like your freedom has got to your head.” The last sentence was said with a lower voice and an ominous smile.
Your hands became sweaty as they clamped down on the armrest. “I’m not getting what you are trying to say.” You whispered out. 
His chuckle only made your heartbeat faster as he leaned forward and his gaze bore into your soul. “Let me rephrase, I claimed you the moment I saw you. But I knew you had potential so I let you go but your little dance with Johnny Storm made me realise it was time you became mine.”
“What-what did you do?” You choked out but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer.
You yelped as he yanked your chair closer towards him till your knees were touching. Your chest moved rapidly as he leaned closer, his hands covering yours on the armrest.
“Awww, don’t play stupid, honey. Johnny, he’s a himbo and you are mine,” He said as his left hand moved to caress your cheek as you flinched away from his touch. “So, I pulled some strings, fed some mouths with dollars and your cute little on-set romance came to an end.” Your eyes widened in horror as he was the one that ended your relationship with Johnny. 
He gripped your face in his big hand and turned your head so that his eyes burned through yours. “Trust me, honey, I was generous with him. I could have him disappear and no one would have given a shit.”
“No.” You whispered, wrenching his hands away. You suddenly stood up from your chair, effectively surprising him.
“No?”
“That is not happening. I don’t want to be with you, I’m sorry.”  You stumbled back to the door but before you could touch the doorknob, you were whirled around and pushed against it.
“When did I tell you, you could say no?” Steve growled his hand wrapping around your throat. “If you think you can reject me then you are sorely mistaken, darling. Don’t forget that the production house you work with the most is mine.” 
You gasped. How could it be his? It was of Tony Stark, you scorched the earth and back and found no such connection. 
Steve noticed your reaction and tsked.“You didn’t know? Don’t worry, you are not stupid sweetheart. The public doesn’t know that Stark is nothing but my pawn.” His other hand snaked around to squeeze your ass through your jeans and you screwed your eyes shut as his touch sent tingles through your body and your breaths became shorter.
He tugged you closer to him with your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. “Now, do you still want to be stubborn?”
Now, you were no dumbo. If Steve can jeopardize your relations with his production then he can also ruin your entire career. Mob involvement in the film industry is an unsaid rule. However, you didn’t know their claws were so deep and sharp.
“And what if I leave? Leave this industry?” What could be more precious than your pride?
He gave you a lopsided grin. “Then you’ll just be the wife of Steve Rogers who was an actress. Remember princess, I’ll never leave you alone. If I held onto you for three years what makes you think I’ll not find you and drag you to my hell?” 
Tears threatened your waterline as you murmured. “You are really forcing me?” What a stupid question to be asking a mobster.
He let out a throaty chuckle and moved his hand from your neck to his pant pocket however he was still invading your private space as his lips were inches away from your lips. “I’m giving you options: either come willingly or I’ll force you. Your choice, darling.” 
He fished out a silver card from his pocket, tracing the sharp and cold edges of it on your face, meandering down your neck and stopping only when it reached the valley of your breast. You gasped harshly when he slid the card inside your bra, the chilled hard paper resting against your warm skin.
“My number, call me when you make a decision. You have one week.”  He whispered against your lips before sealing the unspoken vow with a kiss.
With that he slipped away from your body and took his seat again like dark clouds gilding away from the moon before shortly, engulfing it once again. He resumed sipping from his glass like nothing serious happened and said nonchalantly. “You can go now.” 
You ran to your car like you were burned. Which you were, your soul was burning. Burning from the choices you were given. Which was essentially choosing which cage you preferred better, golden or grey.
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“Did you like the dinner?” Steve asked in his deep voice as he sat across from you at the dining table.
Blinking your eyes away from the full moon that shone outside the dining room window, you glanced at Steve and nodded. “Yes, I liked it.” 
You did come to him willingly in the end, after all, what choice did you have? The moment you admitted your defeat and called Steve flashed in front of your eyes. His smug and triumphant words ringing in your ears.
“Nice choice, princess.”
“You seem to like the moon a lot,” Steve observed as his piercing gaze never left you, noting your every move and reaction.
You looked down at your hands, clasped in front of you. His presence still sent chills of fear down your spine. His imposing figure and intense gaze made your heart race. Not to mention the way his eyes sparkled with desire and lust whenever they laid upon you.
“Yes, the night is beautiful.” You replied softly.
“Do you want to go upstairs? In the balcony for a better view? I also have a very pretty garden.” Steve offered and you refrained from frowning. 
From the moment you accepted his advances, Steve has been acting like the perfect lover. Sending flowers, expensive gifts, wanting to have nice and deep conversations and supporting you in your work. But still, you couldn’t decipher if he was actually being nice or plain manipulative.
However, you had grown tired, sitting and chatting in the room, the walls suffocating you. “I would like that.”
Steve grinned and stood up from his chair, taking a few long strides he reached you and offered you his hand. “Let’s go.”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile, slipping your hand in his, you got up. You sucked a sharp breath when his hand tightened around your smaller one and his eyes grew darker. You ignored the building tension as he led you upstairs, to the balcony.
His mansion was spectacular, painted beige with marble murals. It resembled old French castles with intricate paintings from Greek mythology on walls to railing carved with various plant and flower motifs.
When he said he enjoyed beauty, he wasn’t bluffing.
Stepping on the top floor, there was a lounge area with a fireplace on the right and a couch on the left. In front was the glass door leading to the balcony. Steve opened the door and you had to hold back your gasp as the view was absolutely breathtaking. 
It had the same marble railing as before and also had a sitting space for two people with two chairs and one glass table, perfect for a cosy morning or evening. The balcony ran along the entire top floor, connected with all the rooms.
However, the main highlight was the enormous garden that stood before your eyes. Tall trees were perched vertically of all types, some bearing fruits, some flowers and some none. Speaking of flowers, bright, colourful flowers adorned the garden like jewels. Rose, jasmine, sunflower, etc scattered all over with moonlight pouring on them.
It was straight out of a princess movie and you could spend your entire life wandering inside it, reading books under the tree shade.
“It’s gorgeous.” You whispered to Steve as you stepped forward, leaning on the railing.
“I know, my mother made it. She wanted me to keep the garden big and flourishing. So, I put everything I could to keep it perfect.” Steve revealed and moved behind you, his body pressing against yours.
You were so engrossed in gazing at the garden that you missed his hand coming to cover yours and he laid a soft kiss on your cheek.
“What are you doing?” You questioned as you tried to step away from his grip but he had you trapped.
“Enjoying my view,” He said as he gripped your hips and pressed them against him, his semi-hard cock pressing against your ass. “See what you do to me?”
His lips trailed down, kissing and sucking on your neck. His left hand travelled from your hips to your breast, he squeezed the underside of your tities while grinding his erection against your bottom. Your breathing was getting heavy as he continued to massage your boobs and sucked on your neck, collarbone and shoulder.
You had to refrain from biting your lips. His strong body and demanding moves were making you unwillingly wet. But he forced you into a relationship you didn’t want, you didn’t want this, right?
“I don’t want to do it.” You whispered despite wanting nothing but his hands under your scarlet dress.
“No?” He chuckled. “Let’s check, shall we?” He whispered seductively in your ear.
Your eyes widened as you thrashed in his grip but he stopped all your attempts to deny the truth with a hand around your neck and a squeeze that made you go still. His other hand glided under your dress and found your panties damp.
“Your pussy proved you wrong, princess.” He said with a smug laugh. He sucked at your pulse point as his fingers moved your lace panties aside and caressed your folds. The suddenness made you let out a choked moan as your hold tightened on the railing.
His words embarrassed you but you couldn’t deny that his touch was making your body betray you. He played your body like an instrument.
His fingers ran along your petals, spreading your arousal and brushing your clit, his index finger teasing your entrance when he abruptly stopped.
You blinked, gasping and panting. You were about to glance at him in confusion when he bent you over, your head resting against the marble railing as he went down on his knees, bunching up your dress around your waist. He ripped off your panties, the sound heating your cheeks with humiliation.
“You deserve to be punished.” He said through gritted teeth as he slapped your clit, making you jerk at the delicious sting as he spread your legs wider for him so your pussy was on full display. Wet and ready.
“Spank your ass till it’s burning for going out with that pathetic excuse of a man Johnny or have Bucky watch you as I fuck you senseless. He’s also a fan after all." He spread your labia and sucked on your clit, making you moan out loud as your stomach flipped.
“But I can’t, because this pussy is too tempting of a distraction.” He lamented as his lips went down to your pussy and his tongue teased your cunt with slow yet precise strokes.
Your left hand moved to his hair and tugged on the blonde locks as his administration made your clit pulsate with need. You couldn’t decipher whether you wanted him to stop or continue.
He tutted on you pulling his hair. You whimpered at the loss of his mouth on your pussy when the clicking of his belt echoed in the empty space. He yanked both your hands behind your back and secured them in place with his belt, the grip firm but not harsh. 
“No.Touching.” He growled in your ear as his words were accentuated by a slap on each of your buttcheeks, making you whimper in pain and pleasure as you let your forehead rest against the cool marble and he knelt again.
He took your clit in his mouth again but with more ferocity as your pussy clenched around nothing, “Oh my god, Steve yes!” You mewled.
“Captain or I won’t let you cum.” He commanded as his fingers joined in and drew slow and teasing circles around your cunt.
“Captain, please.” You pleaded as your orgasm started to build up in your stomach.
“Good girl, that’s my good girl.” He finally eased his index finger inside of you, his thick and long finger filling your pussy and you were afraid as to how you were going to take his cock as his finger alone stretched your vagina.
He pumped his finger in and out of you all the while kissing and sucking your clit. When you bucked into his finger he added another one, exploring your velvety walls to find your spot that would make you sing. He curled his fingers when you dripped around his fingers and mouth.
“Mhmm, captain. Feels so good.” You cried out as your climax was approaching you faster, your skin glistening with sweat under the pale moonlight. It was so embarrassing, being this crying and moaning mess he had turned you into. His hands kneading your thighs and ass.
“Are you going to cum, princess?” Steve asked in a husky voice as he kept up his pace, replacing his mouth with his thumb to grow circles around the bundle of nerves,
Your skin was on ablaze, the coil tightening in your belly as you were tethering on the of falling apart. “Yes, Captain. Please let me cum.” You requested, spellbound. He didn’t need to ask you to beg, you were already sliding into your subspace. His finger found your g spot as he twisted his fingers, making you whimper as your breath shuddered.
He snickered, sending vibrations through your body. “I didn’t know you were so obedient, good to know.”His hand came down on your clit and it was the final straw that threw you over the edge. 
You came with a loud moan as the blinding pleasure brought tears to your eyes and you gushed around his lips and fingers, coating his chin. He lapped all your juice, his pace not halting as he drank your nectar greedily.
Your body was quivering from the force of your orgasm, your heart racing as you tried to collect yourself.
Steve got up on his feet and you almost collapsed when he wrapped a sturdy hand around your shaking body, pressing you against his chest. He jutted your chin up and grinned down at you. “Aw, you already look so fucked out darling but it’s just the beginning, we have the whole night.” He smashed his lips with yours, swallowing your tired whimpers and moans.
After devouring your mouth and leaving you breathless. He picked you up and started walking to his left. You were too dizzy to notice your surroundings till you were hitting silk bed sheet and plush mattress. You glanced at Steve through your hazy vision as he stood at the end of the bed.
He smirked down at you. “How about you return the favour, sweetheart? Strip.” He ordered and it was enough to clear your mind of any hangover.
Your hand snaked to your back and you slid down the zipper and pulled off your dress, your breast clad in red lace coming into view as you completely removed the dress and discarded it on the floor.
You then unclasped your bra, trepidation and anticipation mingling together as your boobs spilled out. Now, you were completely naked, your panties already torn and tossed away.
“On your hands and knees.” He commanded as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, his abs and chest made your mouth water and you wanted to grab and touch him but shook away the thoughts.
You got on your hands and knees, clothes rustling till the bed dipped behind you. Steve ran his hand up your spine, sneaking underneath to grop your breast. You mewled as his thumb tweaked your pebbled nipples, twisting and flickering the buds till you were writhing under him.
His other hand smacked your ass, causing you to whimper. “Spread your legs more, I want to see that pussy.”
You spread your legs some more, displaying your glistening cunt to Steve’s hungry gaze. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He said as he played with you enough that you were whining before he rubbed the tip of his cock over your cunt, spreading your arousal and his pre cum.
You shuddered, you had an inclining that he was big but how much? That you didn’t know since you couldn’t see his dick from your position.
He slapped the head of his cock on your pussy and you visibly shuddered. He did it a few more times before you were dripping for him and was on the verge of sobbing in frustration. 
“Such a shame that it is about to get ruined by my big cock.” He declared and pushed the tip inside you. You moaned as you awaited your eventual mounting.
You clutched the silky sheets as he slowly bottomed out, your walls spasmed as they tried to accommodate his length. You were so full already and he was gracious enough to give you time to adjust. All the while he explored your body, kissing your spine, kneading and spanking your thighs, ass and breasts. His touch was electrifying and in no time, you were whimpering for him to move.
“Ah, someone is getting impatient.” Steve mocked but began moving out of your hot channel. He was slow and deliberate, his girth dragged through your walls and your pussy fluttered.
He hissed. “Don’t do that darling if you want to walk the next day.” He pulled out all the way, only the tip remained inside. Pushing your head further into the pillow as he slammed inside your cunt in one stroke, taking your breath away.
“Look at your pussy, pulling me in and clenching around me,” He grunted as his hold on your hips tightened. He looked where you two were connected and sighed in awe. “I didn’t know you were such a slut, you look so innocent. But look at you now, dripping around a man’s dick you barely know,” He pulled out again and thrusted back in with the same power. The slow yet rough pace he set made you cry out in pleasure as your climax started to stir in your lower belly again. “But I like how cockdrunk you are that you just don’t give a shit anymore.” He groaned and pulled out.
He changed his angle slightly and when he thrusted back again, he hit your g-spot and you screamed, flames of pleasure intensifying. He tugged you by the hair, pressing you against his toned chest. “Tell me that you are my slut.” He growled in my ear.
“I’m your slut, Captain!” you said breathlessly as his deep thrusts made you gasp.
His hand came to your clit and his thumb started drawing circles, making you tremble in his grip. “Yes, you are my slut. My fuck toy, who would let me do whatever I want and whenever I want with her because I own you now. Repeat what I have said.” He thrusted harder and if it wasn't for his strong grip, you would have fallen down. 
“I'm your fuck toy. You can do whatever you want and whenever you want with me because you own me now.” You cried. 
“Such a good obedient girl- Ahh, taking my cock so well. Now, you are going to ask me to make you cum.” He groaned his thumb sped up. Leaning down, he sucked on your pulse point, surely leaving a hickey, marking you as his.
“Please Captain, let me cum! Let me cum around your big cock.” You squealed out. Tilting your face upwards he kissed, hard and rough, you moaned against his lips as you tasted yourself on him.
“Good girl, now cum for me.” He demanded as fingers and thumb pinched your clit, his cock hitting your sweet spot in quick succession.
You shrieked ‘captain’ as you came around his girth, squirting on his dick. “Good, what a good little slut for your captain.” He moaned in satisfaction as he nibbled at your earlobe, fucking you through your release. 
He let go of you when your shaking died down. Your face fell on the pillow as you tried to catch your breath. Your fucked out mind didn’t register that he didn’t come till you were being flipped on your back. Coming face-to-face with his annoyingly handsome face.
“You didn’t think it was over, did you?” He rasped with a smirk as he plunged into your cunt once again, but this time with more fervour.
You instantly mewled but the overstimulation and coming two times had worn you out, you weren’t used to this. You attempted to scoot away from Steve. “I-I can’t, too much.” 
He pulled you back down on his cock, wrapping your legs around his waist. He restrained your hands over his head with one hand, leaving you unable to escape the pleasure he was giving you. “You can and you will. Get used to it, sweetheart. I’m being gentle right now,” He growled as he moved on top of you.
The pace was rough and fast, the bed rattling with each thrust, your boobs jiggled from the speed. He placed his hand on your lower stomach. “Do you feel me here?” He asked, the belly bulge sending shivers down your spine.
“Yes, I do, Captain.” You managed to choke out as he pounded in your pussy mercilessly.
“Then enjoy it, honey. Enjoy, writhing and moaning underneath me. My cock stretching your tight cunt, because that’s where you belong. Taking my cock like a good little fuck doll.” He husked as the force of his thrust increased with each passing second. The pain and pleasure mixing made tears fall from your eyes, the knot tightening yet again.
Steve leaned over you, kissing your tears, trailing down to your neck and then your boobs, groping and licking the plump area before taking your pebbled nipples into his hot mouth.
“Oh my god!” Your back arched, pleasure zapping through your body like thunder as his hot tongue sucked on your nipples and his hand massaged your other breast. All the while his thick cock rammed into you, his pubic areas brushing your clit.
Your hands jolted to touch him but he had your hands pinned above. You shut your eyes and enjoyed the unyielding pleasure he was bestowing upon you as pressure built up for the third time in your stomach. Your moans and his grunts bounced off the wall, so did the clapping sound of skin slapping against the skin.
Suddenly, his grasp loosened before coolness touched your ring finger. You looked up as he slid a beautiful sapphire ring into your finger, sealing your fate with his forever. You managed out a surprised gasp. He brought your hand down and pinned it to your side, giving you a proper view of the ring as it sparkled under the stark glowing moon.
“Imagine me, sweetheart,” Your breath caught in your throat as his speed grew frantic, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt as he chased his own release. “Imagine me when you have to romance on screen with some pitiful A-list actor.” He whispered in your ear, intertwining your hands with his as he kissed your lips. It was softer than the previous ones but no less demanding.
“Imagine me when you have to pretend to fuck someone on set. Because I know,” He whispered against your lips before lowering his hand to your clit and he drew fast circles on the bundle of nerves to help you fall apart. 
Steve cursed under his breath and thrusted faster when your walls clenched his dick. “Because I know that I have ruined you for any other man. Ruined this pussy for anyone except me. So, imagine me when you kiss a man and realize that he’ll never make you feel this good.” You nodded along his words as tears streamed down your cheeks, smearing your eyeliner and mascara but he paid no heed to it. Rather, enjoying your fucked out state.
The fullness of his dick inside your pussy and the overwhelming stimulation finally tipped you over the edge as you came the hardest and it hit you like a tsunami.
After some more brutal thrust, he came inside of you with a loud groan. His hot cum spilling inside your abused cunt as it milked him dry. He pumped into you a few more times, giving you every last drop of his seed and staying inside your warm channels till his cock softened.
He put his forehead against yours as he finally pulled out and you almost whined at the loss of dick but restrained yourself as his cum leaked out of your hole.
Only heavy breaths echoed in the spacious room as both of you caught your breath. You were beyond regaining your previous strength as you couldn’t even move a muscle. However, Steve recovered shortly afterwards as he kissed your forehead and whispered smugly. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.” 
You didn’t answer because he was right, you enjoyed every bit of it even if you didn’t want to. Before you could drown yourself in self-pity. Steve picked you up and took you to his bathroom to soak you in a nice, warm bath…
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harmonicakai · 3 days
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I Bet on Losing Dogs
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Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader
Summary: Your insecurities get the best of you and you abandon your relationship with Beomgyu in the worst way possible.
Tropes: friends with benefits, angst, college AU, band AU
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), emotional unavailability, slut shaming, no happy ending :-(
A/N: This is SAD because I am currently sad and also I didn’t bother to edit it. Apologies in advance to the Beomgyu biased readers bc I know this is not what anybody asked for </3
“You disappeared Like a faint ghost I bury it in the air What am I to you?” —Ghosting, TXT
You’re a horrible person.
Really, you should’ve broken things off with Beomgyu before they even began. It’s never a good idea to be friends with benefits with somebody you actually like. 
You do your best to distract yourself from confessing your love to him by sleeping with other guys. What started bright and electric between the two of you has fizzled with each encounter, his touch now feeling dull and hollow on your skin.
So, when you wake up next to him after a movie night, your stomach drops when you see the marks he’s left on your neck. Everybody will know what you get up to, if they haven’t already been gossiping about it behind your back.
There’s a numbness to the way you slip out of his apartment without so much as a goodbye. If you had woken him up, he would’ve noticed the sad look on your face and canceled all of his plans to spend the day making you feel better.
You don’t deserve his friendship, let alone his love, although he's only confessed the latter when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear him. Or, sometimes Huening Kai will let it slip how much Beomgyu talks about you when they’re away.
The walk home is brutal. You’re even wearing the jacket he’s refused to let you give back to him, knowing that if you had left it behind, he’d surely know something was wrong.
When he notices you’re gone, he shoots you a text about Merriam-Webster’s word of the day. Beomgyu has never cared for linguistics, but he knows you’re a real nerd about this kind of stuff. You decide not to reply.
Things would be much easier if you could just disappear out of his life, but the two of you have become so intertwined that it’s impossible. All of your friends are his friends.
Before him, you were just some quiet girl who shrunk away in the back of the classroom. After getting paired up and reading the poetry you managed to dream up, Beomgyu knew he had to get to know you more.
For most guys, the way he acts with you would come off as desperate. But he’s so earnest in his admiration for you and your talent that there’s simply no way he could possibly be faking it.
The first time you had gotten together was an honest mistake. You had been dumped, again, and he was there for you. It seems like he always is every time another man decides you aren’t worth his time.
It’s not that you don't love him. You do, as much as you’re able to. But you know that if you actually took things to the next level and they didn’t work out, it would break you entirely.
Still, is ghosting him without any sort of reason or explanation any better?
With finals in full swing, you know you’ve got the perfect excuse to be distant for a while. It’s the summertime that you’re worried about. Beomgyu has made sure to include you in every plan of his that he thinks you’d like, sometimes even arranging entire days around you in between his band’s schedules.
Really, the easiest way out is to start dating someone else. It always makes Beomgyu shrink further away from you to know that you will consistently pick someone else over him, although he’s secretly satisfied when things inevitably go sour. He hates knowing that the only thing that drives you into his arms is being rejected by somebody else, but he wants you too much to care.
The two of you talk about everything except how you feel about him, and he knows that he isn’t entitled to any of your emotions. You’ve made it clear from the start that you’re never going to be able to reciprocate in the way that he’d like for you to.
You weren’t always like this. At the start of college, you came in with the idea that you’d fall in love and have your happily ever after. But years of being used for your body and consequently dumped without reason has ripped your heart off your sleeve.
The way Beomgyu worships the ground you walk on makes no sense. You hate yourself. Maybe he just wants something to fix, and once you finally open up to him, he’ll leave you just like everybody else.
The thought makes no sense knowing him, but it’s the driving force in never confessing how you actually feel. So, you offer up yourself physically in the hopes that it’s enough, but it always leaves you feeling empty inside afterward. No amount of kisses or compliments will probably ever change that.
Among his bandmates, you’re closest to Yeonjun. He’s the only one who knows that you love Beomgyu just as much, maybe even more, than he loves you. 
It was revealed through a drunken confession at a frat party the weekend Beomgyu went home for his mom’s birthday, where you immediately got embarrassed and proceeded to go home with the first guy who gave you any sort of attention.
Meaningless sex is really the only way you can get off these days, but the act always leaves you feeling worse than feeling nothing at all with Beomgyu. But if you’re never going to be good enough, pure enough, to truly deserve him, then what’s the harm in another hook up?
You know that every time he finds out you've been with somebody else, you’re breaking his heart. It’s just that there’s so much love from him to go around that it never actually makes a difference in how he treats you. He has the biggest heart you’ve ever seen and you don’t even have the decency to not trample all over it.
You wonder if everybody else also agrees that you’re not good enough for him. They’re so nice whenever you’re around, but you’ve seen men turn into monsters behind your back. For your sake, you try not to think about anybody else's opinion besides Beomgyu’s, but even those thoughts weigh heavy on your shoulders.
After a few days of not returning his texts, he finally musters up the courage to call you. Before you can pick up, your phone sends him to voicemail, and you know that’ll be enough of a sign for him to leave you alone.
It isn’t until you run into him dropping off your poetry final in the writing department’s office that he truly sees what’s become of you.
You haven’t slept properly in days, and you barely eat. Your eyes are constantly puffy from crying all the time, and today is no different. Seeing you like this devastates him.
“Y/N,” he says, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you from running away. His demand for an explanation on where you’ve been and why is stuck inside his throat, and instead, only sobs come out of his mouth.
Beomgyu never cries, and watching as he tries to hide the tears running down his face reminds you that he must be hurting just as much as you are. You want so badly to hold him and apologize, but all you do is stare.
Eventually, he manages to collect himself as much as he can, taking in the irreparable damage you’ve caused one last time.
“Here,” he says, digging in his backpack and handing you a stapled stack of papers. It’s his final project. “I’ll go print another. I want you to read these. Please, promise me you’ll read them.”
You accept the papers, your eyes skimming over the lines of poetry on the first page. It's about you. You flip through the rest of the stack. They're all about you.
It takes everything in you not to start crying too, although you’re so exhausted that you don’t think anything would even come out at this point.
“I promise,” you assure him, although neither of you know if you’re telling the truth.
—————-
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P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to make a note <3
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Text
A Goodbye to The Bad Batch
I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.
Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.
One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.
This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.
It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.
Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.
The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.
But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.
At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.
But then I started The Bad Batch.
I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.
I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.
I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.
I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.
What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.
That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.
That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.
That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.
That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.
That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.
That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.
That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.
My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.
But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.
It's very difficult to believe that this is it.
Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.
I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.
We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.
Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.
The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.
Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.
“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”
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hearts4golbach · 3 days
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HI POOKS LOVE YOUR WORK, maybe a Johnnie fic where he shows fem!reader how to play guitar, and lead to some smut (if you're comfortable with it ofc) THANKS HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT
The Fretting Hand.
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Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.
a/n: I read this request sooo wrong, but it's still relatively the same idea. I'm so sorry 😭
warnings: smut, fingering, bickering, enemies to lovers kinda, (only y/n receiving)
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Jake: "They say you should never have wings on the first date with a girl."
Johnnie: "That's true because when you're gonna go finger -"
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the strumming of Johnnies' guitar was incessant. jakes snores weren't favorable conditions either. but you let him have a pass cause he was actually a decent person. johnnie, on the other hand, was far from even being your friend.
you put on a fake smile and maintained a friendship on camera, but off camera, it was constant bickering. you two couldn't stand each other. it was funny. Your annoyance with each other had no motive behind it. to be fair, it was everything about him. his face made you angry just to look at. of course, you thought he was the finest man you had ever seen, but he still irritated the hell out of you.
scrolling on the internet wasn't helping. most nights, you could block out all of the excess noise just fine. tonight was way different. you tossed and turned, trying to at least find a more comfortable angle. you never usually stayed up past 11, which was the time, because of your busy schedule. you groaned quietly into your pillow before getting up out of your bed.
you wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, downing it before reusing the bottle and filling it up in the sink.
even downstairs, you could still hear johnnie screwing around on his guitar. you'd admit, johnnie was a talented guy, but seriously? at 11 pm? you couldn't stand it.
you stomped up the stairs into his room. you knocked twice before throwing open the door. "do you ever know when to shut the fuck up? I haven't been able to sleep at all." you scolded, even though you knew your restlessness wasn't his fault.
your eyes wandered down to his hand that was still placed on the fret board. his middle and ring fingers were placed in a certain chord formation, which just so happened to flaunt the veins and tattoos on his hand.
"My bad." johnnie responded. he noticed your eyes wandering before glancing down at his hand himself. "What?"
"Nothing, just -" you struggled to find the words, your mind corrupted with other thoughts. you felt your face begin to heat up. "Just be quiet."
his lip twitched into a smirk. he placed his guitar down back onto the stand. "Are you sure that's all you came in here for?"
you hesitated before nodding. the cat has definitely got your tongue now. you wanted to turn to leave, but you were frozen. the low light of his lamp mixed with the full moon in the sky was playing tricks on your mind. there was no way you'd actually fuc-
"y/n?" johnnie snapped his fingers. God, his fingers.
"Yeah, sorry." You took a step back before glancing towards the door.
his eyebrows furrowed together. "You've never apologized to me before." he chuckled, "seriously, what's up?" heat had slowly been growing between your legs. johnnie stood up and walked over to you. you were face to face now, and it was almost guaranteed he could see your beet red face. "well? if you've got another problem, fucking spit it out."
you realized quickly this was about to go in a completely different direction. "make me."
"yeah? i bet you'd like that," his palm met your cheek, pulling your plump bottom lip down with his thumb. he took a step forward as you stumbled back, your back hitting the wall.
"and i bet you would even more." and with that, he smashed his lips against yours.
you absolutely hated how soft his lips were. the kiss was rough and needy, and your teeth clashed against his occasionally. your hands clawed at his shoulders, digging your fingers into him. he quietly moaned against your lips, the feeling of pain sending adrenaline throughout his veins. he needed you, and you needed him just the same.
he wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your needy cunt into his growing boner. Johnnies hands trailed up your thighs and gripped your ass, digging his fingers in so hard you figured there'd be bruises in the morning.
"God, always so fucking needy." he spat. you grabbed his chain and pulled him in again, crashing your lips onto his.
he laid you back on the bed, crawling in between your legs and hovering over you. "I bet you've wanted to see me like this for so long." you teased, trying to get a rise out of him.
he rolled his eyes, flipping his messy hair out of the way. "I could say the same for you. don't act like I can't hear those pretty moans late at night. sometimes I even hear my name. I'm not deaf, fucking slut."
you were gagged, not knowing a rebuttal to that comment. instead, you kissed him again.
his hands trailed down your body, playing with the waist band of your pajama pants. he quickly pulled them off, tossing them on the floor next to the bed.
your purple lace panties hugged your hips and ass perfectly, making him shudder at the sight. his hand moved to your clothed clit. he applied pressure, making you wince as you bucked your hips up into his hand.
"so fucking soaked. shit," he whispered, pulling your underwear down and tossing them on top of your pajama pants.
his hand collected your slick as he rubbed his fingers through your folds gently. you quietly moaned under his touch.
"you wanna tell me now? only good girls get what they want." he whispered in your ear, nipping at your neck.
"please, fuck," you pleaded, bucking up onto his hand again. "your fingers,"
he dipped his middle finger inside of you, just barely thrusting inside. "what about them?"
your hand slapped over your mouth as you moaned at the sudden feeling inside of you. "The way you play the guitar. God, it's so fucking h-hot." you said breathlessly, "please, johnnie."
he slipped his ring finger inside of you, quickening the pace. "What makes you even think you deserve this, huh?" Both his fingers were all the way inside of you.
"shit, please. don't be a bitch." you mustered the strength to insult him back. it turned Johnnie on more than you could even imagine.
"I'm not the one who treats you like a dog, am i?" he sped up his pace, spreading your legs wider. "maybe I can fuck some common sense into you."
your back arched, "shit, then maybe don't act like one."
"you're so fucking insufferable. maybe this will bring you back to reality." he curled his fingers as your walls squeezed him. "you know what I think? I think you act that way because of how badly you want me, you just don't wanna admit it."
you let out a low moan, trying to catch your breath. "in your wildest dreams."
"and if you didn't, we wouldn't be here right now. and you wouldn't be squeezing my fingers like this." his other thumb moved to your sensitive nub, rubbing it to match the pace of his fingers. "why don't you just admit it?"
"fuck you." you spat between moans.
"I'm sure you would." he sped up his pace even more, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a relentless pace. "prove to me you deserve to cum, or you're going back to your fucking room. if I even fucking hear you finishing, it won't be good."
he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you on the edge. you wiped sweat off your forehead as you whimpered. "fucking fuck. okay fine. you're right. God, I've wanted you for so fucking long." you replied breathlessly. "please, johnnie. I'll be good from now on. just let me-"
his fingers entered your tight pussy again, making you moan loudly. his thrusts were relentless, curling his fingers at the perfect spot inside of you. you writhed under his touch, endless strings of curses and moans came out of your mouth.
"I've wanted you since I first saw you." he admitted, "but you were such a fucking bitch. it turned me on, though. I'm not really complaining." he added pressure to your clit on top of everything else.
he kissed your inner thighs as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten. "johnnie, I'm gonna cum-"
"let go, baby." he wet noises of his fingers inside of you filled the room, along with your moans.
your climax hit you like a truck. your legs quaked as Johnnie helped you ride out your high. you went limp on his bed, breathing heavily. he laid next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.
whenever you had recovered, you rolled over and climbed on top of him. "your turn."
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dc418writes · 3 days
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✨Pairing✨: felon!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader
Summary🪄: Surprisingly, you’re Ari’s first stop when he gets out of prison
🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!! Ari (first and foremost because hello☝🏾lol), angst, talks of prison, allusion to violence (male-male), allusion to childhood trauma, a few bad language words, unprotected happy adult fun times (everyone please be safe!)
A/N🎤: Hi! So this is my entry for the Cum Together Extravaganza created by the amazing, talented, wonderful, whore-mone inducing @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 lol, and I hope everyone enjoys☺️! *This idea is loosely based off Nicolas Cage’s character from Con Air (if you know you know✨)
*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was created by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*
Prompt: Pining + Running into each other after a long time apart + Frantic Kisses
His heavy boots stop just a foot or two away from the familiar steps he’d climbed plenty of times before. A mix of emotions swirling through his brain causing a tightness in his chest.
He shouldn’t be here.
Not after he’d all but physically pushed you out the visitation room that day. A common tactic of self sabotage he developed over the years, along with his way of trying to protect you from the eventual hurt he knew he’d put you through.
You were so angelic that day. Your natural glow competing with the sun outside shining through the window against your soft skin seemingly made of gold. Brown eyes full of worry, yet still holding that sparkle Ari had never experienced from anyone before. This wasn’t a place for you to be. A place that would soon tarnish your purity - so white the freshest snow, having fallen directly from the sky above, seemed dirty.
“You’re hurt,” you stated wanting so badly to reach out and try to do something for the blue and purple bruise on his cheek. To clean the dried blood around the stitch in his right eyebrow, but you keep your hands to yourself following the strict “no touching” rule.
He only shrugged. Clearly uncaring of whatever happened, but there was also a dimness to his spirit.
Since your first meeting, you could tell there was something hidden behind the walls he’d built. Sense a complicated past before he felt comfortable enough to tell you some of what he’d gone through. However this was different. Past the point of reverting back to the old Ari that was known as a troubled, aloof hermit, it’s almost as if this was a completely different man.
“I uh wanted to bring you cookies, but the officer said no,” you started again, trying to change the subject since Ari wouldn’t tell you what happened. “Something about possible contraband smuggling? As if I could sneak something in a small cookie. Plus it’s me of all people! Where would I even get-,”
“Don’t come back here,” he finally spoke in that gruff voice. It takes you back at first, lightly chuckling to yourself thinking he was joking. His serious eyes - somewhat dark and with new adjoining bags from his lack of sleep - tell you otherwise quickly causing a furrow to your brows.
“Wha-What do you mean-?”
“You don’t need to be waiting for me. Just…leave.”
“B-But I love you Ari.”
He shakes his head before standing to his feet. “We’re done,” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches the metal door. Whoever was in charge apparently heard him from the pad shining green to grant him entrance back to the waiting hall where another officer met him to reapply his cuffs and escort him to his cell.
All the while ignoring your cries of his name and how you pleaded for him to talk to you.
But later that night, staring at the discolored white ceiling as he lied in his top bunk on an uncomfortable, lumpy mattress, it’s all he could hear. Those same tears that ran down your cheeks now silently running down his.
“Fuck,” he silently curses to himself while his fingers pass through his almond strands as he turns away - now hyper aware of how strange he probably looked to your neighbors just standing in your yard. He should’ve just gone to the halfway house he’d been recommended from the transfer counselor.
Try to stay far from you and this part of town for that matter.
He was slowly realizing though, that the heart he thought was closed off desperately craved attention only you could give. Only wanted your warm touch and smile that soothed a childhood ache he’d long suppressed.
Just as he moves to descend your stone path, the front door creaks open to staccato taps on your wooden porch. There’s a continuous clink of metal followed by excited barks as the black dachshund runs down the steps and around Ari’s feet.
“Barry! You can’t run-”
Beautiful as a painting in a museum, there you stood in your cut off jean shorts and some older looking shirt. Your hair much shorter than the last time he saw you eight years ago, but the pixie cut only brought more attention to your gorgeous face and adorable cheeks.
Other than that, it’s as if you hadn’t aged a day.
“A-Ari?,” you stammer stepping further out onto your porch.
He has to clear his throat to get rid of the nerves blocking his words from escaping. “I…I’m sorry for just showin’ up like this. Would’ve called, but when they gave me my phone back it was dead.”
“So..you’re out?”
“Yea,” he softly smiles. You don’t return it though looking as if you’d seen a ghost while staying planted on the top step. Even Barry had returned back to your side, circling a couple times until he felt comfortable enough to lie down. “This was a mistake. Clearly she doesn’t want you here.”
“I’ll uh leave then,” Ari says nervously scratching the back of his neck after a long - and awkward enough - moment of silence between you two. “I didn’t mean to bother-”
Before he can finish, you’re running down the steps - not caring of the dirt and grass on your bare feet. He’s prepared for your deserved anger, whether that be yelling, shoves, or even punches. Instead, your fists clasp the front of his shirt as you pull him down to meet your lips.
After years apart his hands still automatically find their usual place on your body bringing you closer. Ari’s right on the side of your neck, tilting your chin however he needed to gain the access to your mouth he missed, while his left dragged from your hip to the middle of your back holding you to him.
Your moan hitting him in a deep, long ignored place that has him embarrassed like a teenage boy how fast his blood runs southward.
The need for air has you both begrudgingly parting, while your foreheads stay connected. “I’m sorry..for everything,” he whispers letting his thumb graze along your petal soft bottom lip. It’s as if he thinks you’ll break he’s so gentle - like it’s a fragile piece of artwork he dared touch.
"I didn't-"
"Shh," you reply leaning up to peck his lips once more. "Later."
-
Your lips barely separate journeying the short distance from your front door to your bedroom. Both of them red and swollen, yet neither of you attempt to stop as your back hits the light blue comforter - fluffy and soft as a cloud.
His hands grip your thighs curling along his sides, yet fail to move where you need them most making you whimper as his mouth slides to your neck. Taking matters into your own hands, you pull his shirt over his muscled back - silently giggling to yourself and filling with a sense of pride hearing his pleasured groan as your nails rake against his warm skin.
They’re set for his buckle next, but Ari’s quick to use his rougher and stronger ones to pin on either side of your head. “Ari please,” you whine eagerly trying to grind your hips so your soaking core can get some type of relief. You know he’s desperate for something too briefly nudging the tent formed in front of his pants.
“I know, I know.” He unsuccessfully tries to kiss the pout from your lips. “I..I wanna take my time tonight. It’s been eight years sweetheart.”
The deprived and needy part of you wants to counter, urging him for the opposite since it’s been so long. Instead, you nod letting him completely take control.
Slowly, he helps remove your clothes before open mouth kisses and taps of his tongue flow down from your neck and across your heaving chest to your stomach. You moan arching your back to lift your breasts closer to his face when he returns there taking his time attacking one nipple with his tongue while the other is groped and plucked in his free hand.
By the time he finally reaches your waiting and wet core, it only takes one lick and your sweet release is covering his beard.
“S-Sorry,” you stammer feeling your skin heat even more from shame not wanting that to happen so quickly.
“Sorry?,” he softly chuckles before leaving a kiss on your mound. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”
The sound nearly has you in tears knowing your Ari was back. The one you knew loved you just as much as you loved him.
Having had a taste after going so long without, he can’t wait for more switching between his skillful tongue and fingers until your juices flow again, His mouth attached to you; greedily slurping everything you could give him. Your fingers are seemingly locked in his hair as he rises enough to remove his pants. Grunting as he grabs the base - past the point of painfully hard - to direct himself inside you.
“Fuck,” he moans into your neck feeling you rapidly pulse around him. So warm and tight he has to restrain himself from taking you like a wild animal.
Not that you would mind.
“M’not gonna last baby.”
“Spose to happen,” you slur clutching around him urging him to move.
His hand tightly pinning your hip to the bed, his thrusts start slow yet hard before gaining speed the closer he feels. Simultaneously, your cries of his name get louder as well while his mouth and tongue move along your neck and earlobe.
“Shit, I feel you right there baby come on. Come with me.” You can’t comprehend anything with your brain in this foggy, love drunk state, yet somehow your body complies when his thumb finds your swollen and throbbing nub squirting against his skin and down to the sheets below. “Mm good girl.”
His final pumps have you filled until no more can stay. A small mix of both your releases leaking from your hole with every surge of his hips until he’s drained.
Exhausted, he carefully tries to pull out but your whines have him stopping. Softly smiling to himself while slowly lowering until he’s comfortably laying on top of you. “Calm down I’m here.”
Soon your even breaths fill his ears and he’s able to lie on his side - gently moving you with him- to completely take in the area surrounding him. His fingertips mindlessly tracing along your thigh as he reacquaints himself to your bedroom. It was fitting for you in every way, from the light yellow of the walls to the books lining the shelves he built for you long ago. Your few stuffed animals in a wicker basket in the corner as if they were prepared for bed themselves.
Ari notices one in particular - a white bunny with long ears and pink bows he bought you during a trip to the store one day - on your dresser next to a framed picture you must’ve secretly took. He appeared to be taking a break from something dressed in a gray tee, dark jeans, and work-boots with his utility belt on his hips. A bottle of water in his hand lifted to his lips as he looked off somewhere in the distance. Now that he thought about it, he was watching a bird peck the ground trying to find bugs or seeds to eat.
And he looked so peaceful. So calm for once in his tormented life. He had you to thank for that being kind and willing enough to share your light when he fought so hard against it.
In the bit of moonlight peeking through the blinds, he can make out ‘Home’ in the corner of the picture causing the slightest curl to his lips as he holds you closer.
“You kept putting up with me,” he quietly speaks pecking your temple. “So patient even after everything. Know I’m never leavin you again sweetheart. I’m home for good.”
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ivaspinoza · 2 days
Text
Does a writer love to write?
Oh, to be a writer! A poet, an artist. What a blessing — or a curse? I said this before, as a joke, that "writers are cursed to write, no matter what" happens or how long it takes between intervals. Writers will write. They might struggle, mostly inside their own heads, but they will write. And they will feel accomplished for doing that.
During my block time, I used to try and try to write, not because I had to, but because I couldn't help but to keep trying and writing the weirdest words, absolutely nonsense shit — until one day, I went back on track. Not writing was never an option. I tried to give up this, many times when I was at a bad place mentally. I felt that I wasn't a writer because I wasn't writing, but this only led me to this previously shared conclusion I keep as a mantra:
"I do not write because I want to be a writer, I write because I am one."
Some people will lick an artist's shoes and treat them as their saviour. This is the same type of people who might think having a degree makes them automatically smart, that every doctor knows what they are doing, and that artists are somehow a superior class of people. I was talking with my beloved @goodluckclove about it today (the main reason I'm writing this), about how being an Artist, or a Writer, is just another job, like being a Teacher, a Baker, a Parent, a CEO or a Janitor. Some artists will even tell you they had no "talent" at all, they just decided to commit and learn. I can draw and I always tell people that it is pure muscle memory. Just practice. Just commit.
But there is also that sparkle, that inspiration, that epiphany, right? That thing that art causes. What makes some works of art shine and hit you with eternal impact? Just practice? This is a long, deep, crazy, boring, infinite debate, but to me the answer is simple.
It's the soul.
That's why AI will never be able to do it. The soul carries memory, information, patterns, feelings, mysteries, and language (unspoken, holy, different languages, that we don't know much about). Some works are technically fantastic but soulless. Some are full of soul, but lack skill. However, the soul is always a part of it, as it is for a doctor when their soul shakes in grief after putting everything they had in for a 72-hour surgery just to lose their patient. Everything goes through the soul. Have you met a soulless doctor? I have.
What about a teacher helping a student to overcome their difficulties? A mother in a 72-hour labour to deliver her baby, with a father who didn't leave her side? Parents that actually take their time and energy to raise conscious, cared for and loved human beings? When a CEO thinks of what is best for the team, and comes up with a brilliant idea, instead of just caring about money? When a janitor makes a place clean and tidy for others, instead of neglecting it? It is not the job itself that is important, but the motivation, the intention, and the heart behind it. That is what makes it valuable.
Our trades will always affect the ones around us. Human nature is deeply connected to the desire to be useful and serve. Not to be stuck at this point forever, but to me, a big reason for so much pain and depression in the modern world is how self-centred our culture pushes us to be. "All about me"! Too much thinking in your head will make you crazy (I would know). But when we are useful, we find peace and rest from ourselves, we connect, and we are in reality, grounded in the present.
Will you love it every time? Nope. Not naturally. But do we have to hate it?
As an artist, poetess, writer, I can tell you that I didn't always love to do it. Sometimes, it was painful. Sometimes, it brings me physical discomfort or it can be disturbing because of my own limitations and issues — the artist himself is in his work (I will die on this hill, because of the soul). But I don't believe and I won't ever advocate for the tortured artist figure, for the "I hate being a poet", although I can't think I ever got these words from any poet.
"I hate making art!" "I hate my kids!" "I hate to live!"
I think it's time to wake up to the levels of desensitisation we have come to. These contemporary times unfold in absolute glorification of evil as if everything painful and ugly was "more artistic". We don't have to avoid hard themes and make it taboo out of them, but we do need a counterbalance. We also need responsibility and honesty when choosing our themes and our artistic or literary approach. And we do need to stop hating things all the time. We need a mature creative world.
It is easier and faster to break than it is to build. It's easier to hurt than to heal. Look around. We have almost nothing left to "break" at this point. I'm in search of beauty again. Out with lanterns. The beauty in you and in me. Not for the glorification of the artist, or of the art itself, but for the Love that keeps me going, that designed me for a particular job, and that I plan to execute in love.
"Let all you do be done in love", it's written. But because I know Love is not only feeling, even when I don't feel like doing it, I will go back into Love, into humility, and do it to the best of my strength. I will do it so that when I have the opportunity to serve someone by it, they feel love. We put our soul into it, and it's not an aesthetic, not a fancy ethereal trend; there is no need for applause. I will do it like that because in that doing is the reward itself, not in the praise or the prize.
All is vanity. Love is the reward.
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lilsmv1 · 8 hours
Text
august - MV1 (2/?)
- willow [pt2]
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Juliette Durand
This is a story for the Max (and Taylor Swift) girlies. 
masterlist
Summary: They were doomed from the start. Two completely different worlds colliding, there was no way this could work. But what happens when they keep running into each other, as if gravity was pulling them together. 
Trope: slow-burn af
(*dialogues in italic are meant to be in French, I’m just too lazy)
Word count: 1,1k
A/N: Sorry I'm late, I had my finals ! Here's a fluffy chapter :)
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As Juliette walked along the beach, her mind wandered back to the events of the day. She had spent the entire morning exploring the quaint streets of the coastal town, admiring its charming architecture and bustling marketplaces. But as the day wore on, she found herself seeking peace in the quiet beauty of the beach, longing for a moment of respite from the chaos of her thoughts.
For Juliette, this impromptu trip was more than just a chance to explore new surroundings; it was a much-needed escape from the weight of her responsibilities and the lingering worries that plagued her mind. With each step she took along the shoreline, she felt the tension slowly melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and tranquility.
In that moment, all that mattered was the gentle rhythm of the waves and the warmth of the setting sun. It was a brief reprieve from the demands of her daily life, a fleeting moment of freedom amidst the chaos. And as she walked, she allowed herself to simply be, savoring the simple joys of the present moment.
As she walked, lost in her thoughts, a voice called out to her from behind. "Well, well, if it isn't Juliette! Fancy running into you here."
Turning around, Juliette's eyes widened in surprise as she spotted Max approaching her with a playful grin on his face.
"Max!" Juliette exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face. "What are you doing here?"
"Ah, just enjoying the beauty of the sunset," Max replied casually, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "But I can't help but wonder if you're following me, Juliette. We seem to keep bumping into each other."
Juliette chuckled, shaking her head. "I assure you, it's purely coincidental. I came to the beach to unwind after a busy day. And plus, it seems to me I was here before you, so I think you might be following me Max" she winked at him.
"Likely story," Max teased, falling into step beside her as they continued their stroll along the shore.
As Max and Juliette walked along the beach, the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a serene backdrop to their conversation.
"So, Juliette," Max began, a playful twinkle in his eyes, "tell me something interesting about yourself that I don't already know."
Juliette chuckled, casting a sideways glance at him. "Hmm, let me think." she paused "Well, I have a secret talent for baking the most delicious cinnamon rolls known to humankind."
Max raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Is that so? Well, consider me intrigued. I'll have to put in a request for a batch of those legendary rolls sometime."
"You got it," Juliette replied with a grin. "But fair warning, they tend to disappear pretty quickly, so you'll have to act fast."
As they continued to walk, their conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to the next. They swapped stories of their travels, recounting memorable adventures and hidden gems they had discovered along the way. With each passing moment, Juliette found herself opening up to Max in a way she hadn't with anyone else, as if they had known each other for years instead of just a few days.
"So, what's next on your itinerary?" Max asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.
Juliette shrugged "I have to go back to France for a couple days to see my best friend, but who knows where I'll go next. I might just go with flow and prepare myself for some more adventures."
Max grinned, clearly intrigued by the idea. "I like the sound of that. Well, count me in for whatever adventure you have in mind."
Juliette smiled, feeling a warm sense of closeness blossoming between them. In that moment, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon and the sky turned a brilliant shade of pink, she knew that this chance encounter at the beach was just the beginning of something extraordinary.
Before they knew it, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The beach was bathed in a soft twilight glow, casting long shadows across the sand.
"Hey, Juliette," he began gently, "can I ask you something?"
"Yes, of course" she replied with a warm smile.
"What's the real reason you're here? I mean, what are you running away from?"
Juliette paused, her steps faltering slightly as she considered his question. She took a deep breath, deciding to confide in him. "To be honest, Max, I feel lost. I just finished my studies, and I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Everything feels so uncertain, and I needed to get away, to escape from the pressure and expectations."
Max nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic. "I get it. Sometimes we all need a break from reality, a chance to clear our heads and figure things out. But you know it's okay to not have all the answers right now".
Juliette smiled gratefully, touched by his words of reassurance. "Thank you, Max. I needed to hear that."
As they walked on, a comfortable silence settled between them, each lost in their own thoughts. After a moment, Juliette turned to Max, curiosity glinting in her eyes. "And what about you, Max? What's your story?"
Max hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting out to the horizon. "Oh, you know," he replied casually, a hint of evasiveness in his tone, "just getting away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, seeking a bit of adventure."
Juliette sensed that there was more to his answer than he was letting on, but she didn't press the issue, especially when she knew what he wasn't telling her. She knew that there would come a time when she had to reveal that she recognised him, but she couldn't muster the courage to do it at that moment. Instead, she simply nodded, a silent understanding passing between them.
"I should probably head back," Juliette said reluctantly, glancing at her watch. "I have an early start tomorrow."
Max nodded understandingly, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Right, of course. But hey, why don't we meet up again tomorrow? There's so much more of this town to explore, and it's always more fun with company. At least with your company."
Juliette hesitated for a moment, torn between the comfort of routine and the allure of spontaneity. But then she found herself nodding, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'd like that, Max."
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lucysstoryworld · 11 hours
Text
The Veil Whisperer | Azriel x Reader (2)
Summary: The High Lord and his Spymaster have a meeting with The Veil Whisperer. It does not end the way anyone expects.
Themes: Love/hate relationship, enemies to lovers kinda
Warnings: CC3 Spoilers, mentions of child abuse. If I have missed any, let me know.
Just a quick note. Abhartach is mentioned as 'Avertock', That will make sense in the story.
Words: 4979
Read Part One Here
A mix of amber and lavender incense swirled delicately into the air, hazing the room. Through the mist, Azriel could see what looked like various shrines and altars staged in different parts of the room; each seemingly signifying something different. One had various gold coins coupled with a mug full of... something, surrounded by rocks? Another consisted of feathers and skulls, of which Azriel quickly looked away from what was quite obviously some sort of omen of death. He landed on another which had some of the most intricate tools he had seen, he would think they were beautiful if the whole thing didn't make him so uncomfortable. A large, open fire sat in the middle of the room. The heat offered some semblance of comfort to Azriel when the rest of the room sent shivers creeping down his spine. There were other rooms and he was glad he could not see into them, only The Mother knows what lurked behind those doors and he hoped it would stay that way. Though nothing drew more attention than the woman sitting quietly, brewing a pot of tea over the aforementioned flames.
"High Lord of Night and his Spymaster... what could possibly be so important that you both show up together?" She spoke, though a knowing glint was obvious in her eyes which was accompanied by a feline smirk. Azriel and Rhysand glanced at each other, both arching one eyebrow that turned the Veil Whisperer's smirk into a grin. "Now, now boys. Come sit and have a cup of tea." To anyone who was unaware, this would appear like a kind gesture between friends. Azriel and Rhys knew better than to argue. They had walked themselves right into the centre of her web, so they had to tread lightly. Both males sat quietly, watching the Veil Whisperer from across the fire. Watched as she poured the tea into three cups, her face remained on the pot, not yet having looked either male in the eyes. Azriel looked at Rhys once again, who was sat stock-still and watched the female's every move. Azriel was sure he was preparing to be tricked, like he was previously. So was he, if Azriel was being honest. This female was one of the least trustworthy fae he knew. He was sure the humans based their ideas of trials and trickery about their kind on this female.
"We have come with a request," Rhys spoke, the cool voice of a High Lord rang through Azriel's ears.
"Obviously," the female cut in, her eyes focused on the cup in her hands looking wholly bored. Azriel refrained from rudeness by taking a sip from his cup. He swirled it around in his mouth for a moment. Floral, bitter with a hint of lemon. It's fine, no poison, Azriel projected and not a moment later, Rhys also sipped his tea. A short breath snorted from the Veil Whisperer, as if she heard Azriel's thought. Rhys has assured him she was not daemati, though there was no telling what other talents she possessed. "I'm not going to poison you... again. Especially when I have drank from the same pot."
"We need your help locating something," Rhysand spoke again.
"And would it have anything to do with the world-walker that entered Prythian some weeks ago?" The Veil Whisperer queried as though she was asking about the weather.
If Azriel wasn't so good at his job, he was sure his shock would have been audible. The same could be said for his High Lord, although he was a bit less talented at hiding his reaction. Rhysand's jaw clenched and his lips thinned into a firm line. He pushed a sigh through his nose and rolled is eyes slightly, "Okay, so instead of playing your little games, how about you tell us what you know then."
A toothy grin paired with a soft laugh erupted from the Veil Whisperer. Finally her eyes lifted from her cup and straight into Rhys's. Azriel couldn't deny her strange allure, how different her beauty was from what they were used to in Prythian. The fine-line tattoos that decorated her face along with the strange decorations in her hair and ears interested Azriel to no end and he found himself studying her instead of paying attention. It was unsettling really, Azriel found himself being more wary than he was usually. He felt as though he was being walked into the trap of her beauty like it was inviting him to let his guard down and end up the worse of it. Azriel took another sip of his tea and allowed the blend to bring him back to reality. He focused once again, this time with self-annoyance rippling through his body. The Shadowsinger had fallen for the first trick of the Veil Whisperer and that was her beauty. She was currently staring Rhys down, examining him as though he was an experiment. Rhysand held her gaze but nonchalantly drank from his cup.
"A world-walker entered this land three times in close succession some weeks ago, there was a large release of power on the first visit and they departed soon after. A couple of days later, the fabric of this world was opened again by the same individual and very soon after, they entered and left again," The Veil Whisperer drawled, her hands animating the scene dramatically.
"Not interesting enough for you to come sniffing if you could sense it then?" Rhys sniped, while placing his cup on its accompanying saucer.
Seriousness settled on the female's face. "I do not go looking for trouble... especially where world-walkers are concerned." Azriel felt uneasy. The same uneasiness he felt when Bryce landed in front of his feet. For someone as renowned as the Veil Whisperer to be cautious of a world-walker proved that they were up shit creek.
"Have you ever come across another?" Azriel found himself asking before he had a chance to stop himself. He blamed his spymaster tendencies for that, always prodding for the whole truth.
The Veil Whisperer's gaze rolled over to Azriel and the Illyrian found himself bracing before her clear scrutiny. "I have not... well not through an event as large as this one." She stated and returned her attention to the High Lord. He stopped himself from demanding her to explain herself, more so when he saw that Rhys seemed to know what she was talking about. "Though we are veering off track. What do you want and how does it involve a world-walker," The Veil Whisperer almost snapped.
"The world-walker caused a release of power, like you said," Rhys began and the female beckoned him to continue impatiently. "That release of power occurred on a part of my land that you may be familiar with... The Prison." The inner circle had discussed on the best call to action for this conversation. They toyed with the idea of Rhys appearing like he does to the Hewn City, or an indifferent force of nature like he is in front of his fellow High Lords. Though they decided for him to be respectful, yet demanding. 'Beggars cannot be choosers, boy,' Amren had advised.
A hard look settled over the Veil Whisperer's face, her tattooed fingers tightened around her cup. "What of it?"
"The world-walker caused... structural changes to the Prison and-"
"And one of its inhabitants has gotten free and you need help finding it?" She butt in, annoyance building in her tone.
"Yes."
"Who or what has gotten loose?" She pinched her the bridge of her nose.
"The Abhartach..." Rhys spoke cautiously.
The Veil Whisperer's head shot up from her cup with a vicious glare. "Of all things," She gritted her teeth. "Why must you need my help? Can your dog sitting next to you not perform his duties? Or your creepy second in command?"
"You will not speak ill of my inner circle," The High Lord ordered, balling his hands into fists.
"It is not ill-spoken if it is truth, Rhysand." Impertinence rippled off the female in waves. "How long have you been looking?"
"Roughly five weeks," Azriel answered, his ego bruising.
"Any victims?"
"None that we have been able to unveil."
The Veil Whisperer threw her eyes to the ceiling, muttering a swear to some deity that neither male knew of, or cared to know of for that matter. "What do you know of the Abhartach?"
"It is a blood sucking demon, from what I have read, that was captured and imprisoned long before even my great-grandfather walked the land," The High Lord answered, rubbing his hands on his pants.
A humourless chuckle filled the space, "It is not just a blood sucking demon. It is of an age where people with my abilities were the only magical inhabitants, from what my mother told me," The Veil Whisperer began with a flicker of emotion in her eyes. "Its kind was highly intelligent. It can appear as human, fae, beast, whatever animal it likes to draw its prey in. Some of my ancient scrolls talk of a time where there was a local population of them here, and more dotted across the continent. They do not die of age, hunger, thirst, illness. They are beings frozen in time, their very blood runs cold."
Azriel felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at her description of the Abhartach... it was more information than he, or anyone else for that matter, had been able to gather through their own fae history and books. This female before him seemed to have a completely different impression of the history in these lands that also seemed to run deeper than he could conceive. The spymaster ignored the unsettling of his stomach at how eerily similar this demon sounded to the high fae. The Veil Whisperer looked at Azriel, as if sensing his train of thought.
"Their main goal is blood, that is how they sustain themselves as I'm sure you're aware. For no victims of The Abhartach to have been discovered after an untold term of imprisonment does not bode well... my manuscripts and history only tells me so much about it... but they always spoke of the bloodlust..." She seemed to say more so to herself than Azriel and Rhys.
"So what you're telling me is that because there has seemingly been no attacks, that there is something else at play," Rhys stated.
"I do not know what I'm telling you, High Lord. Only that it is acting out of turn of its documented behaviours. Regardless, this is technically none of my business." The Veil Whisperer settled back into her mask of arrogance.
"What price will make it your business?" Rhys asked. Azriel now knew that this female was their only chance at catching their escapee. Her knowledge of it far surpassed their own, which he was sure she knew, and that meant she could ask for whatever she wanted and they would have to oblige.
The Veil Whisperer stood and rounded the large hearth, her cup in hand. She halted between to two males, looking down at them with an unforgiving expression. Her eyes burned holes through both of them. The Veil Whisperer tore her gaze from them, and stared into the bottom of her cup. A displeased hum. "It's a goat," She muttered. Both males furrowed their brows, each looking to the other with puzzlement. They watched as she set her cup down and picked up the cups that the males had been drinking from. "You have the scales," She muttered again and met eyes with Azriel. "And you have a unicorn, High Lord."
"Excuse me?" Rhysand almost spat. Azriel felt his heckles rising, he did not enjoy the idea of being part of some... ritual.
"It is a mythical creature written in my culture... it is depicted in the leaves of your tea, Rhysand." The female lowered the cup to Rhys and Azriel could see the shape of a horse with a horn? "Each one of the depictions in our respective cups are bad omens... so I must decline your request. You may take your leave. It has always been a pleasure."
"You're rejecting our plea for help to catch a blood sucking demon because of tea leaves?" Azriel questioned incredulously.
The Veil Whispered sauntered back to her chair, "Yes, Shadowsinger," She answered as though he was a child. "These omens are rarely incorrect so I heed their warning."
Azriel glanced at his brother, who seemed to be searching inwardly for a way to convince The Veil Whisperer. "Is there truly no way to convince you? I'm willing to meet any of your demands." The feeling of Rhysand's almost begging churned Azriel's stomach.
"If our paths are truly meant to cross on this journey, High Lord, then they will in some other way. You cannot buy my participation this time. This is no easy task, not one bought."
Azriel could feel his temper begin to simmer below the surface. This female spoke in riddles and bullshit. He felt himself wanting to shout and demand that she helps, for she knew they were at a loss — that he was at a loss. Don’t, Rhys spoke into his mind, We will figure something else out. Azriel shot his brother a look to say ‘How?’ to which Rhysand ignored. When Azriel looked back to The Veil Whisperer, she seemed to be studying his face. Meeting her eyes, Azriel did not hold back the grimace and disgust he felt. If she noticed, she did not show it. She held his gaze for a moment, before returning her stare to Rhys.
“You may take your leave.” With that, she stood and left into a different room.
Azriel and Rhysand left The Veil Whisperer’s home and winnowed back to the River House. There, the inner circle awaited patiently. No sooner than their feet had touched the wooded floors had Feyre come into view, carrying a crying Nyx in her arms. Azriel could see the tiredness weighing on his High Lady’s eyes. From what his brother had said, Nyx seemed to be crying at nearly all hours of the day as of late. As much as he loved his precious little nephew, he did not envy Feyre or Rhys at the moment… no matter how much he longed to have a connection that resulted in a family.
Rhysand scooped the wailing high baby of night into his arms, the nickname coined by Cassian, and began to rock him gently. He shushed the boy, though it did little halt the cries. "I've tried feeding him, changing, playing, napping..." Feyre trailed off, her hand rubbing across her forehead.
With his free hand, Rhys took his High Lady's hand into his own and squeezed. "Go have some time to yourself, Feyre. You deserve a rest," He said as gently as he could over Nyx's yells. Feyre looked gratefully at her mate and squeezed his hand in return. With a kiss on her child's cheek, Feyre took off down the halls to her respite. Rhysand met his brother's eyes and could see the question looming in his gaze. "I am not sure how we should proceed," Was all he said, and continued to rock his son. He slowly began to quieten though Nyx felt it fitting to let both males know he was still unhappy. Azriel remained silent, instead choosing to take one of his nephew's little hands into his own. The way the babe melted his heart was undeniable.
"Well, we will discuss the others about what to do... there is a lot to unpack from that one visit alone."
***
You tried to focus on the book in your hand, though the words seemed to swim on the page. Your mind relentlessly returned to the earlier encounter with the High Lord of Night and his Spymaster. It had been a long stretch of time since the last time a three-part omen presented itself to you. If you were being honest with yourself, the decision to reject Rhysand's offer was one you weren't sure was completely right. The last time something similar happened... Well that hadn't ended well. Your cheeks heated at the thought, the familiar bubble of anger roiling in your stomach.
Your mind wandered to the Shadowsinger, as you lost yourself in the smoke whirling and twirling from the incense burning before you. The way he looked at you, disgust and interest all mixed together in his smoky gaze. A slight smile tugged at the corners of your lips. As good as Azriel was at hiding his emotions, you thought him fairly easy to read. He trusted Rhysand implicitly, and Rhysand trusted him. They looked to each other for support throughout their earlier meeting. You found Azriel's eyes looking between you and the High Lord, he was ready to put himself between you if the situation called for it. The spymaster looked at you like you were a walking, talking trap. A light chuckle. You supposed he wasn't wrong, after your little trick on Rhysand last time. You sensed his personal apprehension of you. After the revelation of his tea leaves, you didn't miss how he seemed to pale when he realised he had his leaves read. If he was like most sentient beings in Prythian, he was likely terrified of the possibility of anything other than The Mother existing. Fool.
At the thought of the leaves, you stood and made your way through your cottage. Huffing frustratedly, you settled before your small desk and reached for the soft cloth. Folding it, you placed it over the crown of your head, leg bouncing impatiently. If you can't stop bitching about it, then you might as well get more guidance, your mother used to say when you got like this. Tying the knot in your hair, you reached for the pouch, pulling out the familiar deck of cards. Though you had many in your collection, this set was always your favourite. These cards were brutal when they wanted to be, but always said what you needed to hear. After knocking the deck and shuffling, you had an itching feeling the cards would be on the more brutal side today. With that, your hands kept shuffling until three cards dropped. Two landed faced-up, and a long sigh escaped through your lips. Ten of cups in reverse, eight of wands upright. "Wow," you said humourlessly. You turned over the final card. There was no denying that change was coming. And it was coming in a way that you weren't going to like or be able to avoid. Not with The Tower staring back at you, upright. Brutal cards indeed.
You contemplated the signs before you and the leaves from earlier. Whatever was coming your way was unavoidable, that much was true. Another sigh. You would deal with this tomorrow. After putting the cards away, you padded to your kitchen. After a day like this, you pulled out your favourite blend. Bringing the box of tea to your nose, a sense of nostalgia filled you. People had come and gone, tragedies ebbed and flowed but this tea had always remained a comfort. Settling in your chair before the fire, you sipped the tea and allowed yourself to relax finally. The sun began dip below the horizon. Despite the turmoil of the day, you felt your nerves settle. You allowed the heaviness of your eyes take over.
There was a storm raging outside your window now. The hail battered your window so hard you were sure the glass would crack. The room was eerily quiet. The candles had snuffed themselves out, the fire in middle of the room cast a red glow over the room. A chill encroached the room. You rubbed your arms and looked around. The lack of presence in the room rattled you. There was always a sense of vague company in your little abode. Now, it was stagnant. Like the room was holding its breath as the storm raged outside.
Standing from your chair, you looked into through the open doors of your home... strange. You always kept your doors shut. Each room was the same. Empty. The wind screamed outside your window, wailed like a feminine rage. Viscous and... terrifying. Goosebumps prickled along your arms. The screams started to sound more real. Like a baby, howling for help. The sound was undeniable. Everyone knew what that sound meant. A tremble took over your hands, a cold sweat immediately broke out across your brow. Your heart began to thump heavily in your chest. Instinct had you bolting back through the rooms of your cottage. Every time you followed the sound, it moved somewhere else. Louder and louder, that baby cried. Squealing in pain. Tears gathered in your eyes, your shaking hands pulling at your hair.
"Where are you?!" You screamed.
The scream suddenly sounded behind you, right in your ear. You whirled. There it was, across the room. The baby, swaddled as though it had been ripped from its crib. He cried wantonly as a long, black nail rubbed over his cheek. You looked at who was holding the child... at what was holding the child. It was strange, its features blurry. It was looking right at you, its aura threatening yet smug. You felt stuck.
"What are you?" You growled.
It remained stock-still, all for its nail rubbing the infant's cheek. Like it knew it was upsetting the poor child. You repeated the question again, trying to find the power within yourself. The being studied you, like it knew what you were trying to do and it judged you. The emptiness within... you couldn't feel your power.
"What. Are. You?" The demand passed through your lips with a venomous ease. Your heart only thumped harder as the nail on the baby's face halted.
Halted and began to dig in.
Your ears rang with the shrill of the baby's terror. Though you could not make out any identifiable features on the being, you knew it was smiling more and more. You tried to run for the child, though your feet remained cemented to the ground. You tried to pull against it, though nothing seemed to work.
"Please!" You begged for the first time in many moons. "Please!"
Suddenly the cries halted. The beast stopped too. The baby turned its head and looked into your eyes, tears still dripping down his little face that was beet red. You stared back in horror, fear rippling through you in waves. You reached out to it, wishing you could comfort it. However, as your hand fully outstretched the being lunged for you, the baby falling from its hold.
Your mouth opened to shout, the breath beginning to rip through you. It wasn't quick enough to stop it. The being ran through you quicker than the scream left your lungs. Quicker than the baby hit the ground.
The scream followed you back into the real world as you jolted upright in your seat. Heaved breaths laboured through you as your hand rubbed against your chest. Your eyes darted around the room. Candles lit. Fire bellowing. Heat in the room. Calm weather through the window. A nightmare. It was a nightmare. Something wasn't right about it, that much you knew. That baby... You shot up out of your seat, and grabbed your bags.
***
The inner circle of Night sat in a semi-circle around the fire. Conversations littered throughout the room. The rain outside made the room feel cosier. Azriel sat between Nesta and Elain. The sisters were chatting idly.
"Well all I'm saying is that I could recommend you books that are far more interesting than 'An Encyclopaedia of Prythian's Flora and Fauna'," Nesta teased.
Elain smirked, "I'm sure you could, sister. I'm sure your titles are positively riveting and mentally stimulating."
"They stimulate something anyways," Azriel muttered, his mind going back to the times she and Cassian had fucked all over The House.
Nesta hit Azriel's arm playfully and Elain giggled though a rosy hue coloured her cheeks.
Silence captured the room as a cry from Nyx emanated into the space. A frustrated sigh escaped Feyre and Rhys... and everyone for that matter.
"I do not know how you deal with that day in and day out, as lovely as he is when he's quiet," Amren announced.
"Oh please, Amren," Morrigan protested. "He's just a little baby!"
Rhys and Feyre left together. "A noisy one," Amren replied.
Morrigan rolled her eyes and gave the short female a snotty glare. It quickly left as the High Lord and Lady returned with their son. He still was still groaning and moaning. "Madja says there is nothing wrong with him... a lot of infants go through this," Feyre stated as she handed the baby over to Mor.
"It's okay," She cooed. "Come to your favourite Aunty Mor."
All eyes shot to Azriel when he shot up from his seat and began stomping toward the doors. Someone has entered the city, he projected to Rhys and Feyre through his mind. Both of them followed, getting ready to intercept the stranger. Azriel could hear the others question what was happening. He assumed Rhys and Feyre relayed the message to them because they all silenced themselves. The three of them walked all the way outside, until they were free of the wards on the estate.
"I will winnow us," Feyre announced and held out each of her hands. Both males took her hand without question and they winnowed to the location that Azriel provided. A multitude of possibilities ran through Azriel's mind, as he took out Truth Teller. Maybe an Autumn Court spy. Court of Nightmares, perhaps. Bryce Quinlan may have returned? None of the speculations could have prepared him for the reality when he emerged from the winnow.
For you standing on the edge of the city, feline-smiling at all three high fae, bags in hand. "Hello there, High Lady Feyre. I do not believe we have met before," You said.
"What are you doing here?" Feyre had really mastered the voice of a High Lady.
"Forgive me," You said incredulously, "Was it not your mate and Shadowsinger that requested my services?" You asked as though they were children. Rhysand looked like he was going to rip her apart, to which she grinned. "Well I've changed my mind, it's your lucky day."
"Why the sudden change of heart? After your leaves and omens," Azriel bit.
"Oh pipe down. I did further searching. It is in our best interest to proceed with our best foot forward. I will help you, take it or leave it," You barked. Azriel felt a sense of urgency from you, a sense of unease.
"What of your price?" Rhysand asked.
"I have not yet decided." Definitely out of character.
"How do we know you will not ask for too much even after the job has begun?" Feyre this time. All three of them were a force to be reckoned with.
"Ugh," You grumbled. Never had you seen three more ungrateful people. "I am offering you my help without a prior price, surely that speaks for itself. But if it's really that much to you, I will not ask for anything that will ruin any of you or your court... is that enough?" All three looked to each other, a mental conversation, you were sure. You took the opportunity to look at Azriel again. There was something you couldn't quite put your finger on, an interest.
You purged the thoughts from your mind as the Shadowsinger's eyes met your own. You smirked once again at the apprehension in his gaze, that same religious fear swarming.
"We will accept," The High Lady announced. "Though we still need to know why you are in the city? How did you get this far without triggering the wards?"
You met her eyes. Feyre was as fierce as you'd heard. You were impressed when you found out that Rhysand had made her his High Lady. A better male than his father, that was for sure. "Hm..." You chuckled lightly. While you studied her, you could tell she was becoming impatient. "I'll put it to you this way, High Lady. My abilities are very old, very complex. Older than the magic that flows through your veins. So I can be wherever I want to be, undetected. I thought that I would trigger the wards here, strong as they are, as some sort of... doorbell we'll say." The sarcasm was clearly not appreciated by her. You noted the look of muted surprise when you used her honorific without malice as you were sure she was accustomed to. "As for my reasons being here, my work will be better undertaken from here." They wanted to press further, though they all remained silent.
"Very well, Veil Whisperer," Rhysand said. "You will stay with Azriel in the city. You will conduct your work in conjunction with him and report to myself and my High Lady periodically until this ordeal is over."
Azriel would rather do anything other than share lodgings with this female, but they were desperate he supposed. The Veil Whisperer looked less than pleased with the terms. Your eyes scanned over all three of them, weighing. You walked toward them. Azriel braced himself. With an outstretched hand, you spoke "Deal."
Rhys, Feyre and Azriel stared at your hand as though there was a trick in your sleeve which put a humoured grin on your face. You kept it outstretched, waited for them to shake. Feyre took your hand first, shaking it gently but firm at the same time. Her lead was followed by Rhysand and Azriel.
You looked at them once again, and dipped you chin as a sign of respect. You were only glad that you managed to stop shaking during your trek here.
Note: I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you want me to create a tag list :)
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lil-melody-moon · 2 days
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OKAY IT’S HAPPENING, EVERYBODY STAY CALM!! I’ve finally finished my opinion on “The who by numbers” This took me so long but it’s finally here so I hope you enjoy:
Before I start, I feel the need to say (once again) that I really love the design of the cover and the fact that John Entwistle actually drew the cover himself makes it even better. I love a talented King ❤️
Okay, now the opinion you’ve been waiting for:
1. Slip Kid: The cowbell at the beginning of the song?? I LOVED IT. Great intro. I think it captures the vibes of the album really well. Btw Is that Roger on backing vocals?? I love the song. I have no idea what it is about but I love it 🤣
2. However much I booze: Ummm excuse me??? This song is a fucking vibe. Now I understand why this song is your favourite😍 I don’t know what they put in this song but fuuuuck it’s so damn groovy and the melody it’s soooo catchy. Keith’s drumming and John’s bass in this one are superb
3. AAAAA SQUEEZE BOX MY BELOVED, MY BABY. I literally forced all of my friends to listen to this one. They looked at me weird when I played the song for them in the car but idc. Anyway, This one is my favourite and you already know the context behind why I love this one 😏🤣
4. Dreaming from the waist: All I can say about this song is that I absolutely love the dedication John Entwistle and Keith Moon put in this song. All I can hear is bass and drums 👀❤️
5. Imagine A Man: Okay confession. The first time I listened to this song I did not like very much but now that I’ve listened to it a few more times I think It’s starting to grow on me. Also, the line “Imagine a past where you wish you had lived” literally wrecked me, I felt it in my soul 💔
6. Sucess Story: I have the feeling that I’ve heard this song before…. It sounds like a mix between “All the way from Memphis” by Mott the Hoople and “It’s only Rock N Roll (But I like it) by the Rolling Stones. I might be wrong tho but all these songs have the same vibes 🤣
7. They Are All in love: This is probably my least favourite (don’t kill me) the song is good and I like how Keith and John sound together but idk. Maybe I need to listen to it more
8. Blue Red and Grey: IS THIS PETE ON VOCALS TOO?? Holy sweet mother of jesus his voice feels like a warm hug. Is that an ukelele?? YEP IT IS. I’ve read that Pete wanted to commit suicide and that’s why he wrote this song. If that’s true I feel so sorry for Pete :(
9. How many friends: HELLO?? THE DRUMS? THE GUITAR??? Holy fuck I like everything about this song. “How many friends have I really got? Well you can count ‘em on the one hand” THAT’S LITERALLY ME. I only have a few friends but feel so lucky to have them.
10. In a hand or a face: This song reminds me of Baba O’Riley for some reason🤣 Are we absolutely sure that this isn’t a leftover song from “Who’s Next?”
Oh, by the way, I still can’t tell the difference between Pete and Roger’s voices but I feel like Pete sings in almost every song of the album so I don’t really know what to say about Roger’s input in the album except for the backing vocals (he sings beautifully)
Overalls, this album is really fun to listen to, it’s very complete and catchy. From what I’ve read, this album took ages to be completed cause Pete had a writer’s block and depression but I’m so glad he recovered and finished the album. So far, this is probably my favourite The Who album. I still need to listen to Quadrophenia in its entirety tho.
Okay so first of all, to clear your doubts, Pete's voice is the warm one, "However Much I Booze" and "Blue Red and Grey" are sung by him, the rest is Roger. Roger has a distinct voice, if you know "Squeeze Box" by heart, you know Roger's voice <3
Normally Roger sings, occasionally Pete does, Pete and John are always the backing vocals, Keith only shines from time to time, not a single song of his on this one, BUT I'm so glad to hear that the rhythm section is catching your attention this much - you would have to see me grin when you said you can't hear nothing but bass and drums XD
About the stories you mentioned there, I didn't read much, so I believe in what you're saying. I somehow can't bring myself to really dig in the history of the band, I'm probably afraid of a thing or two, but like, I'm so glad Pete recovered from depression as well - he's a lovely guy really, deserving the best <3
I'm very happy that you love the album this much and I certainly can't fucking wait for you to dive into "Quadrophenia". You'll hear my screaming when you send me your opinion, plus... I'm still waiting for your opinion about "Tommy" and the revenge. Take care, my dear and have fun on the path to become a The Who fan <3
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questioninglogic · 1 year
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Mob Psycho 100 III End Cards
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literalgrill · 4 months
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Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon
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You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.
The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.
I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:
Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨
We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.
However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.
A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.
Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.
Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad
i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…
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all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade
VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.
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I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.
It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.
Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.
I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.
It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.
So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo
I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol
To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo
One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol
Hunter R. Thompson:
I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it
The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.
I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.
Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]
Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.
Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.
The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:
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Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:
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Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.
Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.
Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.
Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.
Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?
Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.
Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?
Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.
Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:
It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation
aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.
Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...
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yzzart · 5 months
Note
Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x
"An unplanned situation."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader
summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.
word count: 1.359!
notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!
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"Y/N, look here!"
Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.
However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.
Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.
You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.
And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.
Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.
You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.
They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.
And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.
Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.
As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.
"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"
Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.
Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.
"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.
You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.
And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.
"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.
Again, a thing and situation you were used to.
"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.
At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.
Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.
Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.
For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.
When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.
Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.
You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.
"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.
They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.
"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.
And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.
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ozzgin · 5 months
Note
I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol
If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!
Best wishes
-🌟
I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)
Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
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"Fantastic show tonight!"
The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.
"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 
"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."
You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 
Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.
Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.
So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.
"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.
That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.
When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 
You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.
Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:
"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"
You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 
"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"
As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.
"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.
"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 
As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.
You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 
"Should we leave?"
You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.
"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."
He grins at your last statement.
"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"
You nod.
"Then let's get you undressed, miss."
Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 
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lizziesribbons · 4 months
Text
So badly |
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PAIRING: RICH STEPMOM! WANDA X FEM! READER
summary: Wanda is your dad's new wife and an incredibly talented business woman, you always liked her but you felt as if she didn't feel the same way about you, she was always cold with you truth be told you were too innocent to know what the real intentions behind the coldness was.
warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** ****CONTAINS SMUT LOTS OF SMUT****** degradation kink, hair pulling, praising, angst if you squint, mommy kink, r being head over heels in love with Wanda, Wanda being mean too mean but hot. SO HOT. squirting muahahaha, multiple orgasms, crazy crazy gay peOple, everyone's gay y'all are gay, gay gay gay. I need to drown in holy water cuz um yea.
author's note: I changed EVERYTHING CHANGED I don't know if y'all even know who I am but like anyways idek if this is gonna be a thing I just got an idea and I wrote it in my notes and now I'm posting here ‼️
Word count: 2.1k
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Wanda maximoff.
She was an intimidating woman. even her name is hot? When your dad first introduced her you immediately fell in love whenever she was around you were always squirming in her gaze, she was just too pretty too perfect. Too good for your dad. Your dad wasn't the best man in the world he was alright, he was always working always travelling he didn't have time for you or anything else that's why you were shocked when he brought her. Wanda.
Wanda was a business woman too. A successful one indeed, She had 2 twins Tommy and billy, who you instantly grew to love, you wondered how Wanda handled all of it, A husband, A business and still making enough time for her kids, she was like a super mom there was no single doubt her kids loved her. And she loved them.
Your dad was barely home so it was always just you Wanda and the twins, you never felt like Wanda liked you whenever you would try talking to her she would give you cold responses, always looking into your soul like she was angry at you. She would constantly taunt you whenever you would go outside with your friends and come home too late, or when you wore something a little too revealing. Some would say she was possessive you just thought of it as her being her grumpy self
but what you didn't know, Wanda wanted you. Every second of every day she thought about you but she knew it was wrong. so she would put up this act to hide her secret. her dirty little secret, no one except Wanda knew what kind of thoughts ran through her mind, what she did at night thinking about you when her husband was asleep beside her.
she thinks about how her fingers would feel inside you, making you scream her name, whispering all kinds of dirty things in your sweet little ears
how good it would feel to fuck you with her strap until you couldn't take it anymore, she often gets off thinking about you but you weren't aware of any of it. She sometimes thought you knew cause of how you would bend over in front of her wearing the most smallest skirts possible but she knew you were just as innocent as you look, she also knew about the crush you have on her, it was too obvious with how you would look inside her shirt every time she bent down to pick something, how quickly you would respond every time she calls for you, how flustered you would get when she's around. she wasn't blind she could see right through you.
You were always home nowadays as your college was off and your friends were either on vacation with their family or they just didn't have time. Wanda had a business event today on which she asked you to come with her as the twins were at their dad's and you would be home alone, she even picked up an outfit for you, it was a cute black dress simple and elegant not too small just how Wanda liked. She was so sweet with you today. too sweet. even offered to make your hair and do your makeup and you let her. cuz how could you deny it? you let her dress you up like you were her personal doll she gave you a kiss on the cheek that made you blush so hard Wanda immediately noticed and smirked.
the car ride from the house to where the event was being held was filled with tension. Wanda's eyes were constantly on you eating you up she noticed the way you clenched your thighs under her gaze and how you shied away every time you two would make eye contact, when you reached the destination, Wanda opened the door for you holding out her hand to you. Your fingers intertwined with hers following her between the crowd of people.
You insisted on staying behind as she went on the red carpet. admiring her you noticed how beautiful Wanda really is, she is hand-crafted by the gods you wondered how it would feel to touch her. every inch of her body you wanted to kiss her so bad the urge to do it was strong. Wanda noticed, Ofc she noticed she smirked knowing your gaze was on her and all her attention too, you looked at her coming back to you as you straightened your back and smiled at her, she held you by your waist and told you "I want you to meet some people malaysh" the nickname made you weak. you just wanted to fall on your knees and beg Wanda but you couldn't.
After meeting those people Wanda left you alone to go and sort some business deal you didn't care about. Wanda saw you laughing and chatting with some people she thought it was nice you were getting along well, until. she saw this girl put her hand on your thigh and getting too touchy. Wanda felt something burst inside her she interrupted the conversation she was having came behind you and pulled you back from your waist making you push yourself into her crotch.
Wanda looked at the girl and raised her eyebrows, the girl was out of there in a second. It was hot. so hot the power Wanda holds, you were about to ask what that was when suddenly you felt her fingers hold your ass tightly as she whispered in your ear "Stop flirting with every person you see just to get my attention" Your legs failed you as you moan slowly in wanda's grasp, her hold was bruising on you as she whispered again "don't be a whore now, go wait in the car I'll be there in a bit"
as you were waiting for her impatiently in the car and afraid of what to expect next, you heard the car door open and Wanda got in, you didn't say anything. not even a word. her too. the car ride was silent. so silent you could even hear your heartbeat and it was fast. you were sure Wanda heard it
after getting home Wanda softly told you to go and wait in her bedroom like a good girl and you did. not cuz you were a patient woman no no no you were the most impatient girl in the world according to Wanda but you just wanted to make her happy.
after a bit she came in. You saw a bulge inside her pants. looking up at her, sitting on the bed on all your fours she came up to you and held your jaw softly
"you look so good like that, on mommy's bed like a good little slut" Wanda wouldn't be at fault if she thought you came right there, and then because of the moan you let out on the nickname Wanda referred to herself as. but she shrugged it off only smirking at the sight
"strip. slowly." you start striping taking off your dress first, Wanda's eyes on you as she starts undressing herself too making you gasp at the sight of her.
"you're so beautiful," you said as you worshipped her body just by your eyes, giving herself a moment or two to smile and blush at your compliment, she said sternly "Less talking, let's put that mouth to better use yeah?"
she took off her pants and underwear revealing a scarlet strap attached to her as you look at it and drool "Open up show mommy how good of a slut you can be" she said as you open your mouth tongue out, she guide the strap inside your mouth not even half of it and you were already gagging, it was bigger than anything you've taken before but Wanda didn't care, your gags and whimper were music to her ears.
losing herself in the pleasure she started thrusting inside your mouth as you sat there drooling, she threw a sadistic smile your way and said "I think we just found the perfect way to keep your mouth shut"
Wanda pulls out suddenly, your face covered in sweat and tears, and lays down on the bed
"come here ride my strap," she said patting her lap, gasping for air your breath shaky from the previous encounter you said
"y yes mommy"
slowly, you lower yourself onto her strap, your eyes locked with hers as you whispered "It's too big"
Wanda pouted her lips with fake pity "Aw is it?" you nodded as she looked at you "Is it too big for my little whore huh?" you nodded again not breaking eye contact
"fucking say it then. you can speak" Wanda said sternly placing a sharp slap on your ass, just as you were about to say Wanda force your hips down onto her strap "Too late" You bit your lip feeling her strap penetrate deeper into your wet slit
"Mommy hurts please ah" moans and gasps. it was all you could let out as Wanda ignored all of it and thrust your hips up and down on her strap, tits bouncing with the force.
your body trembling as you take her deeper inside you, suddenly you feel a sharp slap against your tits just as a humiliating spit was delivered on your face, spit drips from your mouth onto your chest as she slaps your tits repeatedly
"Mommy too much-gonna cum please" you plead at her "Come for mommy honey let it out" You came just as soon as those words left her mouth, she didn't stop. turning you guys around so she was on top she started thrusting with all her might as the bed started moving
"you know how badly mommy wanted to fuck that pussy from the very first time she saw you huh?" she whispered in your ear making you moan as she kept thursting "How I touched myself at the thought of being inside you fucking you so deep your legs wouldn't work for weeks? it was a torture not being able to fuck you every moment I saw you I just wanted to bend you over and take you" The dirty confessions only added fuel to the fire as you were already close
"please Mommy" you said weakly as she thoroughly fucked you, the room filling with noises of skin slapping together, "Please what? say it, baby"
"please I'm gonna cum again" you say looking up at her, "cum again for me then you don't need my permission"
just as you were about to cum she reaches down to rub your clit "NO PLEASE NO!" was the last thing you said when you lost control completely and squirted everywhere, not knowing what happened you looked at Wanda who was smirking smugly as she pulled out of you slowly and took off the strap throwing it down the bed
"Mommy I've never done that I'm sorry I don't know what happened" Wanda looked you down with admiration as she cooed cupping your face "Oh baby no that's okay you did good it was so good" she softly kissed you, leaving small kisses down your neck to your stomach until she reached between your legs
"no too much, can't." you tried squirming away but her strong hands held you in place "Just trust me" She raised her eyebrows and scanned your face for any hesitations as she dived down and carefully cleaned you up making sure not to overstimulate you
she sat back up "You taste so good", blushing at her compliment you muttered a "thank you"
"so adorable" Taking you in her arms and holding you against her she whispered sweet nothings into your ear through the whole time until you fell asleep in her arms, she looked at you knowing you were hers now. for forever.
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teamatsumu · 2 months
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do you? i do. (akaashi keiji x reader)
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summary: you lose a bet, so now you have to confess to your crush. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.
word count: 1461
tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @keiva1000 @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @kindnessspreads
event masterlist
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Turns out, promising to do ‘anything you want’ wasn’t something Konoha Akinori took lightly. Especially not when you add Bokuto Koutaro to the mix. Konoha was a sly opportunist, while Bokuto wasn’t embarrassed by anything, so it was a deadly combination.
You didn’t know why you let yourself be talked into making a stupid, silly bet with the two boys. Konoha had a talent to goad, and he managed to successfully goad you. So when you lost the bet (really, why did you think having a physical competition with two volleyball players was a good idea), it was like Konoha had his winning prize ready. The request fell from his lips like he had been practicing it for days.
Which he probably had. The menace.
So here you were, hands shaking violently as you put away water bottles and towels, cleaning up the club room and taking all the time in the world to change back into your uniform. The other managers had offered to wait for you so you could walk home together, but you encouraged them to go on, saying you had some stuff to organize before you left so it would take time. You didn’t need them to stick around to see you horrifically embarrass yourself when you confessed your silly crush and got rejected. Already Konoha was making all the boys stay behind to witness the moment. You couldn’t bear to have your closest friends see it too.
You locked the club room behind yourself before slowly and painfully making your way to the gym. You could hear the thuds of volleyballs and squeaks of shoes as the boys noisily cleaned up. They were talking and laughing amongst themselves, and you felt your nerves tighten even more. This was the worst possible place and time to confess. The chances of public humiliation were sky high. But Konoha had made his demands clear. And you weren’t one to go back on your word, no matter how dire the consequences.
You smoothed your skirt when you reached the gym doors, standing in the doorway and watching the scene before you. Despite the net slowly being lowered, Bokuto was still bounding towards it.
“Akaashi, go again!”
The boy in question was already in position, setting the ball high towards Bokuto, who spiked it hard over the half-up net. Washio was yelling at them to stop and it was enough for the day.
You watched Akaashi wipe the sweat off his forehead and kneel to tie his shoe, breathing slightly labored from the exertion. Your feet remained frozen, eyeing him silently and dreading how your relationship with him was about to change forever. While Akaashi wasn’t someone who harbored ill feelings, you weren’t sure how he was going to react to a love confession and subsequent rejection. What guarantee did you have that this wouldn’t affect your friendship going forward?
“Oi, look who’s here!” Konoha’s voice was filled with glee, and all eyes turned to look at you when he pointed at the door. You fought the urge to roll your eyes and deck him across the face. Violence was not the answer.
“Do you have something to say?”
Okay, maybe violence was the answer.
You gave him a large, fake grin, before nodding jerkily. You could feel the edge of your face and your ears turn burning hot, hands already going clammy as you tried to clench and unclench them.
“Akaashi-san, may I talk to you in private?”
Akaashi seemed surprised, blinking twice before nodding and standing up to walk towards you. No one else was caught off guard, of course, grinning faces looking between you two, knowing what was about to happen. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to do this in front of the entire volleyball team. But a bet was a bet. You had brought this upon yourself.
Whenever you had lain in bed and fantasized about confessing to Akaashi, you had pictured just you and him. Either outside the gym, or in the school grounds, nice cool air blowing through your clothes and hair. You had imagined how he would smile and return your feelings, which was a long shot but anything was possible in your imagination.
Akaashi was…. dignified. Organized. He was crazy smart, perceptive to a fault. It was almost impossible to not like him. Two years since you had started managing the Fukurodani team, and your crush on him had only grown. The more you learned about him, the more you liked him. And he was leagues above you in every sense.
That was the reason you had always believed Akaashi couldn’t return your feelings.
He stepped out behind you, following you only a few steps away from the gym doors. Konoha had explicitly said that you had to stay within earshot. A childish, immature request but part of the bet reward, so you couldn’t exactly refuse. You turned back to the boy, unable to meet his eyes and instead staring at your own hands as you fiddled with your fingers. You had rehearsed in your head over and over how you would take Akaashi’s rejection, what you would say, how would you tell him it wasn’t a big deal and you didn’t expect him to return your feelings. That you hoped you could still be friends. But now, standing before him, you realized you hadn’t really thought about the actual confession. You were completely blank.
“Is everything okay?” Akaashi’s voice was laced with concern, and he tilted his head a bit to catch your eye. You stared at him for a good minute before blinking and vigorously nodding.
“Yes! Completely fine. I’m fine.”
Embarrassment was already beginning to crawl up on you. There was a bout of silence. Behind Akaashi, you caught sight of multiple heads peeking through the window. You felt annoyance build up in you.
“Screw this,” you mumbled. “Akaashi-san, I like you. A lot. Not as a friend. And I was never going to tell you, but I lost a bet to Konoha and he thought this would be the perfect way to humiliate me. By making me confess. So….. here I am. I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”
Akaashi watched you unblinkingly for a few moments. You glanced at Konoha who was scowling, probably because you name dropped him. But that wasn’t one of his conditions, so you didn’t care. You felt a twinge of satisfaction at having bested him even in your current circumstance. Good. He deserved to feel even a fraction of the anxiety and embarrassment you were feeling right now.
“Why would that humiliate you?” Akaashi finally spoke.
Your eyes met his dark ones, and you felt yourself freeze. Of all the questions you thought he would ask, this was not one you were prepared for.
“Uh-” You tried to come up with an answer that didn’t sound equally as embarrassing as the confession. Because you will reject me and they will all witness it?
Akaashi sighed and toed at the ground a bit, mouth pursed in thought. You stared at him wide eyed, waiting for him to speak. To say something. Follow up on his unusual question.
“This isn’t exactly how I imagined this moment to go.” He muttered, and you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t already looking at him. Your breath hitched, eyes so wide you were sure they would pop out of your skull. You tried to process the sentence, tried to think of any reason he would say that without getting your hopes up.
Akaashi peered around, as if searching for something, looking left and right before he finally caught the floating heads behind him. There was a yelp as they disappeared from the window suddenly, followed by thudding and a curse. You bit back your laughter. Akaashi rolled his eyes.
“I would like to talk about this more. Where others can’t see us.” His voice was as calm and quiet as ever. You felt your heart race. Your limbs felt jittery. Did this mean….?
“Akaashi-san, do you-”
A smile that made your heart leap. “I do.”
You felt a smile stretch over your face, feeling giddy at the thought of something you had considered so impossible materializing in front of your very eyes. You could still hear faint bickering from the gym, and you were sure Konoha had not seen this coming. Somehow, he was the least of your concerns now, in the face of Akaashi’s quiet smile and the way he was leaning towards you. You leaned forward too, realizing you had never been this close to him before. You basked in the moment.
In ten million years you could not have wished for a better outcome.
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