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#someone really made voices and models for this
heartfullofleeches · 3 days
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Miller [Streamer Yan] and Vtuber Darling that's a regular 110% human being just like them :). Darling's model is pretty average, yet cute looking, but it's their gimmick that really pulls people in.
"Ah, I'm a little thirsty. Excuse me while I drink water with my human mouth... which I have only one of."
"Do you like when I play horror games? I. Like. Them. Too. But I prefer the ones where the main character befriends the monsters at the end :)"
"Oh... Is that really what people look like instead?... I. Am full of meat too. We have so much more in common than I thought."
Quite the oddball, but their chat finds their behaviors adorable. Miller does too. They're over the moon when Darling accepts their friend requests and even more thrilled when darling mentions Miller is their first companion and streaming buddy. They've never been able to make friends before and was lonely because of it, but since they've gained a following it feels like they're never alone.
There are a few hiccups on the day Miller and Darling first stream together. Static drowns out darling's voice when they call and Miller can faintly hear what sounds like...purring? in the background. Darling apologies for the strange sounds once they're finally able to get through to Miller - their pet cat was happy they finally made a friend.
Miller is crushing hard from day one. They've never seen darling's face, but if they're half as cute as their voice they might be too far out of Miller's league. They've tried scrolling through darling's social media pages for photos of them, but all they were able to find was old selfies taken in the worst lighting imaginable... Pretty blurry too.
Darling likes Miller too. They feel as though they can trust the streamer. Trust them with anything.
"Mill...er? I. Have a confession."
"I'm all ears- Lay it on me, baby."
"Can you promise? Promise. Not to be.. Afraid?"
"Afraid? Who'd ever be scared of someone like you? You don't really scream serial killer from the conversations we've had so far."
"If that's is the case... Join the call. See. Me. I. Trust you, Miller."
Call? Oh, darling invited them to a video call. It's crazy that it's the first one after all the time, but Miller respects their privacy....a little. Miller can't see much of anything when they join in. Small, white lights greet them shrouded by the darkness of darling's room as their end connects. Looking closer, Miller realizes....
Those are eyes.
"I'm. So sorry for deceiving you.... and everyone else. Miller.... Thank you for being so kind to me. I couldn't lie to you anymore. I'm sorry. I understand. If you hate me now ...."
"Hate you?.... I'm trying to figure out when our first date is-"
"Ah?"
"You like pork chops? Steak? I remember you talking a lot about meat in earlier streams. I like a person who can really eat, y'know?"
Are they.... flirting? Darling is vaguely aware of the practice. Miller can see them right? Why are they acting so nonchalant about their appearance?
"Hm? It's still you, isn't it? A few more eyes or rows of teeth don't change the fact you're one of the chillest people I've met online. Cutest too. Even now.... So, when can we meet up?"
Miller is strange.... but Darling is strange too. They're happy they met them.
-
Miller: So you're telling me you've been this sexy monster person this entire time?
Vtuber Darling: i... suppose?
Miller: And you choose that boring ass design as your avatar?! Actually that was probably better for me personally - weeds out some of the competition.
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ghosts-cyphera · 6 months
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pornstar! ghost who buys u cute little underwear sets for every scene u do together ?? he says it doesn’t mean anything but in reality he spent hours trying to pick out the nicest colours n fit for u <33
18+; mdni / suggestive fluff / pornstar!ghost x fem!reader; masterlist here ♡
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ghost's foot drummed against the ground as he studied the boutique from the street. the window displays were decorated with flower arrangements and expensive-looking cotton clouds, among which golden hangers displayed the most intricate sets of lingerie he had ever seen.
fitting for you.
you, who he knew—no matter what kind of a scene you were shooting—liked to feel beautiful on set. beautiful just to be adored and worshipped: to be made love to, or beautiful to be turned messy: to be fucked and made to feel used. that touch of something pure was always there when you showed up for work, day after day with a sparkle in your eyes.
with a warm chuckle, ghost stepped inside. 
everything about the boutique reminded him of a candy store. the colors, the details, and even the scent of something sweet were all tugging the corners of his lips into a warm smile.
he was utterly out of his comfort zone, but fuck, did it also make him feel all sorts of fucking thrilled. 
you’d love the place to bits.
“shopping with a special someone in mind?” 
the words flowed from the tongue of a sales assistant: a twinkly-eyed woman whose arms spread in a greeting as she closed the distance to him. “a partner, perhaps?”
bloody hell.
“oh, no—err—,” ghost cursed under his breath as he let out a deep laugh. “just a friend, really.”
“that’s one lucky friend right there,” she chuckled. “we carry a wide range of sizes and models for all body types, but if there’s any chance that you’d happen to know their measurements, that would—“
“yeah. of course. yeah, I’ve got—,” his finger slid into the pocket of his jacket, and he pulled out a neatly folded note that he handed to the assistant with a grin. “I—err—asked her stylist.”
“your friend is in the show business, is she?” the assistant mused as she unfolded the paper—a touch of warm amusement on her features as her eyes scanned the handwriting. “perfect. I see that they’ve included everything we need for finding the—,” she paused, her brows rising as a bright smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “you really did come prepared, huh?”
“yeah, I’ve got val to thank for that,” he let out a laugh as his gaze traveled across the store. everything about the space screamed luxury, from the velvet couches to the tall windows and the complimentary champagne that the assistant—nila, she introduced herself—was now offering him.
yet with a shake of his head and a polite smile ghost declined the drink, all due to the spark of curiosity prickling under his skin.
while he was not usually a man to display his feelings and emotions publicly, as his feet now led him towards a stand in the middle of the store, he knew there was no use in trying to bite down his smile. 
for on a round stand, surrounding a tall flower-arrangement, half a dozen sets of lingerie were gently placed: each of them damn near handcrafted to you.
their colors, cuts, and details were all you.
“seems like something’s stood out," nila’s voice was warm as she stepped to him.
“she’ll call me a bloody stalker for knowing her this damn well, but these—,” ghost let out a warm chuckle as he nodded his head, “yeah. she’d feel fuckin’ beautiful in these.”
“you really do know her,” she peered up at him, much in the same way that he was used to with other women. yet what came to her, in her eyes was nothing but genuine curiosity: warmth not towards ghost, but towards you. “she’s really lucky to have someone like that.”
“it’s really fuckin’ me who’s gotten lucky,” despite the whisper of a smile on his features, with his words his voice dipped ever so slightly. “she’s the best thing I’ve ever—,” he wet his lips with a chuckle. “it’s the way she makes you feel seen. special. like you—“ he shook his head. “fuckin’ hell do I know. never really been good with words.”
“if even a fraction of that glimmer in your eyes is visible when you look at her—,” nila arched an amused brow. “believe me, she knows.”
“rather she didn’t.”
“stuck on that stage, huh?”
ghost grinned, wetting his lips as a touch of warmth rose to play on his cheeks. “alright, enough of that, yeah? back to the—,” he gestured towards the stand with a chuckle, “fuckin’ lingerie, eh?”
the next two hours flew by on wings as ghost gathered a selection of pieces for you. each one was carefully picked not only to bring attention to all those things he knew you loved about yourself but also all those small parts that you were still learning to embrace. all of it—he hoped—to help you see yourself in the way that he saw you.
nothing short of perfect.
“the last one,” nila smiled as her fingers finished tying off one last satin bow: one just as perfect as the previous dozen had been. “and we’re all done.”
ghost wet his lips with a chuckle as he reached for the gift box. “is it weird to suddenly feel fuckin' nervous?”
“a little,” she smiled. “you really don't need to worry,” she arched a carefully amused brow, “ghost.”
his gaze found hers, his brows furrowing slightly. “you know who—“
“from the moment you walked in.” nila’s laugh was soft as she leaned against the counter: her amusement now reflecting back on the features of ghost.
“and so, you know who these are for, eh?"
“it’s just a wild guess, really.” her grin turned into a careful smile. “she’s beautiful. don’t—,” she shook her head. “don’t let her go.”
“fan of hers?”
“sexual awakening of sorts.”
“fuckin’ understandable,” ghost’s laugh was breathless as he pushed off the counter, his hands now filled with gift bags. “thank you, eh? for all your help.”
“of course,” she beamed—only for her eyes to widen with a sudden realization. “hold up! I almost forgot—“ she reached over the counter to wrap her fingers around the note of measurements scribbled down by valeria. 
“believe me,” nila laughed as she slipped it into the pocket of ghost’s jacket. “you don’t want to lose it.”
it was not until he had made his way home that he finally fished out the folded paper: the one that did not only include the measurements of your bust, hips, and waist. scribbled at the bottom was also an additional message, accompanied by a small hand-drawn picture.
on the off chance that one of these days you’ll go and admit just how down bad you are for her. – V
a measurement, and next to it, a drawing of a ring.
fuckin’ hell.
ghost blinked his eyes shut with his laugh, deep and warm.
for now, the small pile of gift-wrapped boxes would have to do, yet as he walked to his bookshelf and slid the note between the pages of his favorite book… 
that’s when he promised himself to never lose that small paper, and with it, the reminder to hold onto you, too.
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a/n: aah my wee cheeks are literally cramping from how brightly I smiled when writing this, haha. too cute? nah, we don’t know her. love you all! / pornstar!ghost masterlist / my inbox is still so very open for all your thoughts about him. 💌
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goodbyemitchel · 1 month
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i know you know that i need you so (gojo satoru)
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summary: your school days at jujutsu high with the strongest, whose only hobby seems to be pestering you, are utter chaos to say the least. you're sure he only annoys you because he loves the attention until it grows into something even you can't ignore. warnings: fluffy crack??, frenemies to lovers, unreliable narrator reader, gojo is actually head over heels for reader but reader is oblivious at first, implied slow burn, doesn't rlly fit the canonical timeline (before the star plasma vessel incident), teen gojo x reader a/n: inspired by "i know you know" by CHSKA! IT JUST. SO TOTALLY SCREAMS GOJO TO ME. this is very self-indulgent if it isnt obvious. song i would recommend listening to while reading this is tip toe by hybs, fits the mood so well
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"What's up with you? It looks like you just killed someone."
To Gojo Satoru, what's yours is also his and your door is (to your demise) always open for him to walk through.
Sometimes, his face looks like the world's best punching bag, is what you tell Shoko about him. The pride of the Gojo clan has no sense of private space, is cocky and loud, unlike Geto who's also the self-acclaimed strongest, the most confident person you've ever met and probably will ever meet. Self-aware is what he calls himself and you always roll your eyes.
You're both in the second year, yet somehow he has the maturity and acts like he has the brain capacity of a middle-schooler. But what made you the most frustrated was the fact that he still so effortlessly gets the highest grades in theory in class.
Y/n L/n, Second Place yet again. How many times has those words been displayed on the class bulletin board now? You clench your fists in frustration as you storm out of the hall and into your dorm, making sure to slam the door very audibly.
You're sure he does it purely just to spite you. Stupid sunglasses.
Practically seething, you're sitting on the couch when you hear the door click about a few seconds later.
"What's up with you?" sighs Shoko, walking to you and plopping next to you. "You look like you just killed someone."
You give her a look. "I swear I will."
"Okay, wait, let me guess. Satoru again?"
"I swear he does it just to spite me," You grumble, crossing your arms.
"I've been telling you, ya know," Shoko shrugs, making you give her a deadpan look. "You know how he is. He loves having your attention."
You make a skeptical face. "No, he just loves the attention in general."
"Hey, what's everyone doing in here?" The man in question himself suddenly pops his white-haired head through the door, smiling cheerfully. Irritatingly cheerfully. "Hope you're not having a party with just you two. It'd be pretty depressing."
Every single time, he somehow always senses your voice and immediately is involved in the conversation.
"What do you want, Gojo?" You groaned.
Of course, he strolls in without asking with Haibara following closely by, waving at you eagerly. He and Nanami are the sanest out of all of them, but Haibara really needs to choose his role models more wisely.
"I felt a particularly violent aura in this building in particular so naturally, that piqued my interest."
Gojo plops down on your couch, stretching out his limbs and you give him an obnoxious expression, pushing his arm away from your shoulders. "So what are we doing? I'm so bored."
"Talking very happily, until you came in." You glared at him and stood up.
"Aw, don't break my heart," He pouted, giving you a puppy-eyes expression underneath his round sunglasses. You blatantly ignore him and the way your cheeks warm. "I just got back from a mission and I'm positively exhausted, so give me a break, princess."
To your demise, however, no matter how much pushing and how much throwing of pillows, both he and his Limitless wouldn't let up; Gojo Satoru was just like that. Your dormitory soon became crowded with all your and his friends, making you slowly forget your frustration about second place.
To Gojo Satoru, what's yours is also his.
Sometimes, when you unluckily are paired up for a mission, you catch him watching you under his dark shades as you walk together. You always would give him a curious frown.
"What quip are you gonna make this time?"
You watch him blink under his sunglasses and notice the slightest pink tinge spread over his pale cheeks. "Great way to start a conversation," he snorts and walks ahead of you, hands in his pockets. "I wasn't gonna say anything like that. Just..." He pauses, then flashes a grin. "You're really pretty when you frown, princess. Though I like you too when you're smiling."
It doesn't mean anything to him, you tell yourself over and over in your head. You bet he tells every girl that; he could have any girl he wanted anyway.
"Do you seriously not see the way he stares at you?" Shoko says casually one day, taking out a cigarette from her pocket. "It's so sickeningly lovesick it makes me wanna throw up."
Of course, you have no idea what she's talking about. Gojo Satoru? In love with you? Sure, he loves making fun of you, likes flicking you in the forehead and burst into laughter when you yell at him in pain. But that's just how he is in general.
Gojo gets onto your nerves like no one else.
One day, you get hurt during a mission with what was supposed to be a mere grade-3 cursed spirit but was too much to handle by yourself. Shoko helped patch you up with her technique, so your injuries ended up being minor. However, you still had a sprain in your ankle and had to take a break from missions and schoolwork overall.
You're still resting in your dorm on the couch watching a baking show when you hear the front door slam open. You whip your head around in shock to see Gojo panting and gasping, chest heaving up and down with concern all over his face.
"Wh-" You start until he strides towards you in two steps and grabs you by the shoulders with an unfamiliar gentleness. He scans you up and down, and your mind is still reeling. It wasn't strange for him to suddenly come bursting through your door, but never like this.
"You're-I thought you were..." At last, he lets out a sigh and collapses next to you, letting his arms drop into his lap. "I hope you know you scared the shit out of me, princess."
You frowned at him and sputtered, "What did I do?"
"Oh, you do way too many things to me," He laughs loudly, deciding not to elaborate, and sighs deeply again, staring at the ground. "I just.. heard from Nanamin that you got hurt and stuff. I guess..." Gojo raises his head and stares at you with a puzzled frown, then his lips split into a grin. "Nevermind. You're fine, so that's what matters. So what's on anyway?"
Weirdly, while you're both sitting on the couch staring at the TV in silence, Shoko's words ring in your head and you end up blurting out the words without thinking.
"Why do you look at me like that all the time?"
You determinedly set your eyes still on the screen, where a baker accidently tripped on a carpet and spilled all the cake batter on their partner. You waited for Gojo to brush off your previous question and make a joke about it, but it never came.
"'Cause you make me feel ways I shouldn't feel." he said simply.
"What, like anger? Does looking at me awaken this-this beast inside of you or something?" You demanded, whipping your head around to face him. You want to tell him off for making you like this, acting like an idiot, and always thinking about his stupid face, until the words die in your throat at the way he looks at you.
Gojo's smiling at you and it's unlike those wide playful grins he always flashes you. Under his sunglasses, his sky blue eyes look at you in fondness like you hung every star in the sky. "How could I not look at you when you're everything for me?"
He doesn't mean any of it, you tell yourself internally again albeit meekly. He can't.
He leaves right after that, leaving you sitting there in silence. He tells you to hurry up and get better, although you don't even have time to reply or think about it. The day you recover, you plan to avoid him everywhere until the day you die.
That was the last day you would see him for days, luckily for you, due to both of you having separate missions in different places. Late at night in the city you were staying in for a couple of days, you wandered into a night market to buy a few souvenirs. Your kohai Haibara had grabbed you by the shoulders and asked very enthusiastically after all.
The markets were crowded and bustling with life. Street vendors yelled, advertising their goods everywhere. As you walk (or push) your way through the crowds, you smell the sweet aroma of desserts and rush over to the stand in anticipation.
Looking through small boxes of bite-sized mochi, you remember Gojo walking into the classroom everyday munching on some sweet treat and you constantly asking him why he insists on eating so unhealthily, trying to snatch it out of his hands.
"I bet you only take them because you want a bite so badly," he had winked cheekily at you, making Shoko and Geto both roll their eyes in the background. "You can always just ask and I'll gladly share, sweetheart."
A smile subconsciously makes its way onto your face at the memory. Then you realize what you're doing and shake the smile off your face, mildly horrified at yourself. Why does your mind keep wandering towards him?! You hand the vendor some pocket-money for a box of the mochi chocolate-covered strawberries, definitely not since it reminded you of a certain white-haired brat.
As you walk through the markets looking through tourist souvenirs and such, your breath suddenly catches in your throat when you glimpse the flicker of light on round sunglasses walk right by you.
You trail behind them, tapping the person on the shoulder hopefully, "Gojo-"
When they turn around however, it's merely a stranger who looks at you with a confused expression. Your heart immediately twinges with disappointment and you can't help the smile sliding off your face. You quickly apologize to the stranger and watch them walk off.
Why are you acting like this? Why is he always on your mind, even when he isn't here?
You could never like a guy like Gojo Satoru. He's over-confident, irritatingly cheerful and immature. He can't seem to live a day without hanging an arm over your shoulders or giving you a pouty, sad look after you try to kick him out your dorm. You hate how he's also annoyingly tall and you hate the way he loves to rub into your face the fact that he can tower over you. You hate the way he has those stupidly bright blue eyes that always seem to be filled with fondness, those impossibly long lashes and-
Oh.
Oh.
When you finally realize your feelings for him in that swarming market, it hits you like a truck in an isekai. No. No, no, no.
Something else hits you at that moment; all those times you'd been frustrated about your studies, he always came in through your door. Before, you always just assumed he did it just to brag in his own way, but you realized you didn't feel so lonely in your anger after. Gojo had always drowned out your misery with his cheerfulness.
Even when you finally get back to Jujutsu High the next day, there seems to be a permanent perplexed frown on your face.
"You're going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that," Shoko warns you as the two of you two walk along the sidewalk of the school, overviewing the track.
"Uh-huh." You reply absently, watching Nanami and Haibara spar on the grass below.
"You didn't hear anything I just said, did you?"
"Uh-huh."
You hear her sigh in exasperation and all that fills the air is the sound of your two underclassmen arguing about something. That is, until you hear a familiar playful voice yelling out your and Shoko's name. You both turn around simultaneously, seeing Geto with his hands in his pockets casually and Gojo waving his arms around like he's playing a lone game of octopus.
You immediately feel a smile pull at the edges of your lips and you curse at yourself deep down, trying to force a neutral expression. He jogs towards you, grinning jovially.
Gojo puts an arm over your shoulder languidly, pushing his side onto you, and waves at Shoko. You try to ignore the way your heart leaps into your throat and how he's able to act like he had no idea what he did to you. "Whatcha up to today?"
"Oh, nothing much. I should go..." She suddenly says, and you don't fail to notice the sneaky glance she steals from Geto. "Uh, I just remembered I have some homework to do. You two have fun."
"Hey-" You begin to protest, but she drags off Geto before you can start and gives you a knowing smile, waving at the both of you.
"Hey, there's this new bakery around and I haven't tried their desserts yet." Gojo piped up cheerfully. "The opening was yesterday and you know... I'm really craving cake lately."
You give him a raised eyebrow. "Aren't you always?"
He ignores you and continues to hum, pretending to stroke his chin. "Ah, I know. Let's buy a cheesecake and share it. You can take half and I'll-"
"I'm not that hungry right now," You cut in, fidgeting nervously. "I just... do you think we could talk?" Your heart is beating out of your chest and you hope he doesn't hear the way it slams against your ribcage.
The white-haired boy blinks curiously. "About?"
"Don't act innocent," You mutter, feeling your cheeks grow warm. "What you meant back then." It's been plaguing me day and night, you want to say.
"What, do you want me to say it again?" He grins cheekily and leaning his face closer into yours, making you want to slap him. "Well luckily for you, there's way more where that came from, princess."
"No, no, I meant- what did you mean back then? I never know what you want from me." You snap at him suddenly. "Do you want me, do you not want me? Are you just messing with me, am I just another one to add to the roster?"
For a few seconds, all he does is stare at you with parted lips and for once, he's speechless.
"The roster? What do you mean the roster?" He bursts into laughter, lifting up his sunglasses to reveal his glittering cerulean eyes. "Actually, I, uh, brought you a little something on this topic."
Gojo rummages through his pockets, patting himself down muttering something. At last, he seemed to find it and took out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you with a smile.
With an astounded frown on your face, you opened it up and quickly felt your jaw drop a bit. It was the monthly list and you were First Place for the first time... well, ever. But something bothered you, making you look up at him with a confused expression. "What is this?"
"Well... I guess it's my way of answering you." The pride and joy of the Gojo clan gives you a soft smile millions would probably kill to see. "I love ya, princess. And I'll say it as much times as it takes until one day, you'll say it back." He then turns around, hands in his pockets casually, walking in front of you as if he hadn't just stopped your heart multiple times. "So you wanna buy that cake or not? If we hurry we might be able to get it fresh."
Watching him walk away humming a cheerful tune, you assume your heart can't go faster than it already was a minute ago. But it's strangely calm for once and one thing is finally clear. You grab Gojo by the wrist and when he turns back around with a curious expression and parted lips about to ask something else, you silence him by pressing your lips on his.
At first, you feel his entire body stiffen against yours for a moment until he kisses you back so intensely it makes you stumble backwards a few steps. You feel his hand slide into your hair and pull you closer to him as you clutch his shoulders. He tastes like those strawberry lollipops he loves to snack on and strangely, you feel warmth spread across your chest in fondness unlike a few months ago.
When your lips part, you're a bit breathless and you look up at him to see him smiling so brightly his face might fall off.
"I love you too, Satoru." You tell him finally.
Cupping your cheeks with his warm hands, Gojo quickly peppers your entire face in messy kisses. "I never knew I could love someone even more than I did a minute ago. Did I mention I love you, by the way? Because I do, like seriously. I really do."
You sigh in exasperation as he nuzzles himself into your neck and sweeps you into a tight bear hug.
To Gojo Satoru, what's yours is also his and your door is (maybe not always to your demise) always open for him to walk through.
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© GOODBYEMITCHEL 2023. do not steal, repost or edit my work on any platforms.
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ozzgin · 2 months
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I love your work! you have such a fun take on yandere's and I would love to see what kind of yandere hcs you could cook up for a host-club / paid to go on dates with you yandere ❤️ double points if you can make it so that the reader is never really one to cross a line or think the yandere really likes them...
If you don't want to do this prompt tho I completely understand ❤️
The idea makes me a little nostalgic as it gives me Ouran vibes. Also reminded me I've never played 'Men of Yoshiwara' past the prologue, which also has male courtesans ready to service you. In any case, it's definitely something I can expand on! :)
Yandere! Host x Reader
You've never considered yourself to be the type frequenting host clubs. Yet the loneliness is becoming noticeable and perhaps it's your lack of experience keeping you out of the dating scene. Mingling with paid professionals could prepare you for a future boyfriend. Except your assigned host has other plans in mind for you.
Content: gender neutral reader, inexperienced reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation
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Ah, you definitely don't belong here. He can tell within seconds and he hasn't even reached the table yet. You're nervously readjusting the sleeves of your shirt - do you usually not wear such outfits? - and merely glance around the room for a brief moment before casting your eyes back down in sheepish modesty. Well, not necessarily a sight of unpreceded novelty. Many people are intrigued by the idea of a host club, so even just idle curiosity is enough incentive for one to end up among the charismatic crowd of paid affections. Today it's you who has stumbled into the hungry mouth of the wolf, and he happens to be the one to entertain you away from whatever unpleasantries are currently consuming you.
He gently stretches his slender fingers across your shoulder, a feathery touch light enough as to not startle you. You look up and acknowledge his presence, ready to stand up for introductions. His hold on you is firm, letting you know there is no need to leave the comfort of your sofa. "Now then, this isn't a job interview. You don't need to be so formal." He explains with a chuckle. You nod. Embarrassingly enough, your eyes are glued to his face for longer than what you'd consider polite admiration. A waste of good looks is your immediate thought. Surely someone as stunning as him could've worked as a model or actor. You suspect he isn't as enthusiastic to meet you as his voice leads one to believe, so the ability to pretend certainly isn't missing.
One peek at the table next to you, and the answer quickly presents itself. An older woman is inspecting the menu, surrounded by multiple bottles of champagne whose name even you recognize. You doubt the average acting career could provide this amount of luxury. The corners of your lips curl slightly upwards in a pitiful self awareness. Sadly for this guy, you're not a big spender. Whether he, too, is aware of this disappointing fact is impossible to tell. His handsome features remain cheerfully relaxed. "Tell me about yourself. What brings a darling like you here?" He inquires graciously, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he settles before you with an intent gaze.
You narrate your hardship: whether because of your looks or your awkwardness, something impedes you from having acquired a partner; and so the idea of gaining experience through less orthodox means came to fruition. Your host listens carefully, refilling your glass every now and then with a compassionate frown, lips parted in unspoken sympathy. Of course, he understands. Naturally. Once you're finished, he straightens himself in newfound determination: worry not, he will be your coach in love.
Thus begins the unusual partnership. You hadn't expected the man to readily agree to such a ridiculous request. A handful of visits have made it clear to you he's in high demand, most likely one of the top earners. Why would he waste his precious (and otherwise profitable) time with a humble customer like you? Maybe it's bad form to refuse lower paid offers too often, so he's keeping you for balance. You'll never know. His professionalism betrays no hint of annoyance.
You cannot help but marvel at his masterful lying. It becomes quite clear to you why so many people fall helplessly in love with paid hosts. Everything is executed with the utmost care for detail. The loving caress of the cheek he occasionally initiates, seemingly unprompted. The long, ardent stares into your eyes, as you must practice your eye contact. His hot lips brushing against your fingers while he spoils you with diminutives and sickly sweet words of appreciation.
You frequently have to remind yourself that everything is dictated by a contract. A code of conduct meant to be replicated for you and all other clients coming afterwards. How many other poor souls fawn over this alluring devil? You wouldn't want to burden him with an additional customer who forgets boundaries. You know your place too well.
Admirable manners. Frustratingly so. He wishes you'd just give in already and drop the shy act around him. You've caught his interest from the moment he spotted you in that cluttered, crowded room reeking of overpriced alcohol and solitude. Everything about you signaled blindingly clear: you're someone others can easily take advantage of. To think you would've landed right in his hands, to be molded as he pleases. The little sob story about being inexperienced with men, your clumsy attempts to follow along his flirts. Oh, you're just begging to be defiled. Again, and again and again, until there's nothing left of you. Then he'd caringly patch you back together and start anew. His very own corner of innocence.
The indecent daydreams are cut short when you proudly announce, during one of your dates, that you finally feel confident enough to pursue a genuine partner. You have booked a nice hotel room for this occasion; One last gesture of grandeur to show your gratitude for all the advice and love (even though it wasn't genuine). He's sitting on the edge of the plush mattress, dumbfounded, fiddling with the thick, ornate border of the bed runner. Huh? What the hell are you talking about? He's spent all this time getting to know you. What gets you flustered and bothered, what makes you excited, sad, anxious, angry, bored. He taught you how to come out of your shell. Why, so you can go ahead and waste yourself on some fucking idiot?
"My, aren't you eager. You haven't even had your first kiss." He says with a cheeky smile. "I think I can manage-" you want to say, but he quickly interrupts with a curt: "No one likes an amateur kisser". You're immediately silenced. His voice sounds cold, with a hint of anger in it. "I'm sorry, darling love, it's true." He resumes in an entirely different tonality, dragging his words with an eerie kindness attached to them. He tuts a little, turning towards you and patting his knees. There, there, don't look so deflated. If a simple observation like his hurt you this much, how would you handle the much meaner, downright heartless world out there?
Such is reality. Men are cruel and you had the bad luck to be born with a gentle heart. He delicately guides you to sit in his lap, cupping your burning face between his large hands. He knows this expression too well - you're humiliated. And thus, can he truly allow anyone else out there to see you so vulnerable like this? No, this kind of intimacy is reserved for him. You must understand. He has disciplined you to his liking, and simultaneously learned all the nooks and crannies of your being. It's too late to go back to a simple host and client relationship.
"Why don't you practice with me first, love?" He breaks the silence, placing his lips against your forehead in encouragement. You feel a sudden pressure faintly throbbing underneath you. "T-the kiss?" You ask hesitantly, trying to ignore the sensation and squirming in his tightening hold.
"Everything."
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jaeeyaaasworld · 3 months
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Car Shopping - LN4
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Featuring: Lando Norris x reader
Warning(s): disrespectful car guy, Lando being basically a trophy boyfriend, Lando being a cutie (GOD THIS IS SO AWFUL. I'm sorry but I just got back to writing, pls have mercy on me)
Summary: Y/n decided to finally buy her dream car since she was a child, Lando is accompanying her but the car guy is misunderstanding.
Y/n, a pretty famous model, shouted her boyfriend name in the Monaco attic, entering the living room and sitting on the couch next to Lando, her boyfriend.
"I'm gonna buy it"
she started, earning a confused look on the Formula 1 driver.
"you're gonna buy... what?"
he asked, trying to understand what she was talking about, but suddenly his eyes widenened with realization.
"is it the YSL heels? no, princess, I was gonna get them for you"
he whined, making Y/n aw at his antics.
"you are gonna get them for me? that's really sweet, but it's not them"
she said with a big smile, making Lando furrow his eyebrows.
"is it the Minaudière make up by Dior, then?"
he tried, but getting a shook of head from Y/n.
"come on, Lando. think harder"
Y/n insisted, looking at him with big doe eyes, making him understand in an instant.
"the Porsche. you're getting the Porsche GT3 RS"
Lando said, sitting up with the biggest grin that you've ever seen. with just a nod of your head, Lando was already hugging you tightly, yelling at the top of his lungs as he pulled you on top of him on the couch.
"are you for real?"
he asked, pulling back a little to look you in the eyes.
"I checked if the dealer in Monaco had it in their site, and it says that they could get it shipped here"
you squealed as Lando yelled again and pulled you back in the hug.
"gosh, I'm so happy. are we going now? can I come with you?"
he asked, making you nod your head and get up to get ready to leave.
Time skip: at the dealer
Lando was parking his McLaren in the parking lot when you walked into the big shop and started searching for someone to help you.
the faint voice of someone almost arguing caught your attention.
"it's a girl, shut up John, you got the last one. look at that bag, her husband it's surely filthy rich- hi"
a guy came in front of you, as you recognized his voice as the guy that was arguing with the other worker earlier, noticing how his eyes were setting on the Birkin Lando had gifted you for Christmas.
"my name is Mike, how can I help a pretty girl like you?"
he asked, a sick smile on his lips that almost made you gag. you put a smile on anyway, since you were a really polite person.
"uhm... yes, hi. I read on your site that you can get the blue Porsche GT3 RS shipped here, right?"
you asked politely, making Mike's eyes widen and nod his head.
"sure, come I'll help you"
he said, starting to walk towards his computer, the sound of your heels clicking on the ground echoing on the walls.
"no husband?"
Mike asked, sitting at his desk and searching around for what he needed.
"my boyfriend is parking his car outside"
you corrected him, making him nod.
"you know what you're getting into?"
Mike asked again, making you smirk as you wanted to put a stop to his teasing and attempts to fool you.
"of course I know"
you said, hearing a faint 'damn it' come from the man behind the desk.
"alright, the car is gonna cost a bit much, but I'm sure you already know that since you know what you're getting into. I mean, it's a Porsche, there's not much I can do about it. so... the price is gonna be 320.000 euro-"
"WHAT?!"
Mike couldn't even finish his sentence that Lando's shout could be heard from the other side of the open door.
"that's a robbery-"
he started, but your raised hand stopped him as you got up from the seat in front of Mike's desk. you gave Lando your Birkin as you leaned on Mike's desk.
"Mike, that price is 60.000 euros over the actual price. I accept the fact that you didn't recognize me, but you surely recognize my boyfriend, right?"
the car dealer gulped as he nodded his head.
"now... don't you feel ashamed trying to scam a girl that's been around cars since she was a child and is now in a relationship with a Formula 1 driver? don't you think that I might really know what I'm getting myself into, huh?"
you asked the man, still leaning on the desk.
"I'm far too good for letting you still sit on that chair behind that desk"
you finished, a scoff left your lips as you took your Birkin back and walked out of the concessionary with Lando's hand on your lower back, opening the door for you.
"princess"
he called before you could reach the McLaren, making you hum and turn towards him. Lando placed both his hands on your arms in comfort.
"I know you're angry. why don't we go to that fine restaurant that you like and take a walk around the track, just the way you like?"
he asked softly, getting a sad nod in return as he pulled you close, his lips on your forehead.
"my princess"
he sighed, kissing your lips and smiling down at you.
"I'm gonna make sure we have a consultation with another dealer next time, promise"
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peachypinkygloss · 6 months
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dior girl ✰ park jimin
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Park Jimin is one of a kind. When he wants something, he gets it, no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands. But this man has absolutely no morals.
୨୧ pairing: designer!jimin x model/fem!reader
୨୧ genre: strangers to lovers, age gap (21 & 38), smut, slight angst
୨୧ word count: 8.1k
୨୧ warnings: unrealistic depiction of the fashion industry, alcohol consumption & mention of drugs use, manipulation & corruption, jimin isn't a good person (especially not to oc lol <3), violent sexual thoughts, jimin's a sadist (my fav headcannon :D), heavy dom/sub dynamics, hard dom!jimin, unprotected vaginal & anal sex, anal play (use of a buttplug), my new headcannon: jimin likes giving anal, dacryphilia, praising & degradation, oral sex (m), face fucking, aftercare ig because yes jimin's a sadist but he still has a heart.
a.n.: yup so idk if you guys were expecting that... but i did say none of the characters were ethical lmfao so 🤷🏻‍♀️ i really, really hope you like the first part, i've worked hard on it even though it's not super long. so please, reblog and tell me what you thought about it! <3 as always, don't like, don't read.
[dior girl moodboard] ["older" masterlist]
His studio is his sanctuary. It's the only place in the world he can spend hours in without even noticing the moon setting or the sun rising. In his studio it feels like the time doesn't exist or that it's just a futile detail that doesn't have much importance.
When he's creating a piece, nothing around him matters. The only things he's willing to give attention to are the placements of the needles on the fabric, the little lines that form the pattern of the clothing, and the way his scissors cut through the satin material of the dress he's designing.
He's thought about this design for so long and he finally got the opportunity to make it. He's thought about the colours of the dress and also of the seam, about the length of the hem and the sleeves, how deep the neckline should be and if lace would be suitable.
He doesn't even recall how many sketches he's made of the dress. At some point it was consuming his entire mind, this dress the only design he could draw and think of.
Now that he's finally creating it, he has the feeling that it's going to be the best piece he's ever made. He already sees everyone talking about it, saying how much of a genius Park Jimin is. It's going to be the design of the year — of the century.
He still misses something, though, and it might be the most important part of the design. He needs a model, the perfect body to wear his piece and present it to the fashion world.
It can't be anybody, it must be someone who's confident, who always has their head up and who radiates elegance and sports a unique beauty.
Jimin still hasn't found this person. He constantly searches for them, but never finds them or when he thinks that he has, he discovers flaws he cannot unseen.
All the Dior models are great, but not enough. They don't spark anything in Jimin when he watches them strode down the catwalk. He's checked upon the apprentices and the newer models the company has hired, but he saw no one extraordinary.
Until today.
He hears steps against the wooden floor of his studio, entering the place without knocking. "Ah, there he is!" A manly voice exclaims, Jimin immediately recognizes it as his friend's, Sungwoon. "I have someone to introduce you."
Jimin raises his gaze up from his working table and looks at Sungwoon who's accompanied by a beautiful, young woman. He's then suddenly interested, contrary to usual where he doesn't really care about the many girls Sungwoon brings, claiming each one as the new phenomenon of the fashion industry.
When Jimin turns around, he eyes you up and down, barely glimpsing in Sungwoon's way. It's all it takes, one simple glance and he knows you're the one he needs — the one he wants and has to ruin.
Sungwoon introduces you both and when your name is pronounced by the man, sounding so charming and delicate, he's certain you're the model he had been waiting for since a long time.
You seem shy, arms locked behind your back, but you stand up straight and have a polite smile drawn on your face.
"I thought maybe you'd like to get to know each other, right?" Sungwoon raises his eyebrows in Jimin's direction. "Everyone's fond of her," he smiles and pats your back, encouraging you to speak up.
"Thanks," you smile back at Sungwoon before glancing back at Jimin who still hasn't looked away from you. "I've been a big fan of your work since I was a little kid, Mr. Park. You've inspired me to become a model."
The way you say his name has his cock twitching in his pants, filthy thoughts of him spanking your butt while you cry his name invading his mind.
He can sense your vulnerability, your willingness to submit. Who would he be to deny you that? Him, who is so eager to dominate the ones he's attracted to, to break but also repair them.
He knows it when someone's fragile, hiding their weaknesses under fake confidence. He doesn't know you, but he recognizes the pattern almost instantly. What can be broken can also be repaired and you're asking him to break you.
"I'm glad to hear that," Jimin says politely, a slight smile tugging on his lips. He's not the type to smile — stretch the corner of his mouth upward to imitate the person in front of him, he finds it useless. But for you, he'll do it, just so you trust him because you're so desperate to give yourself to the opposite sex.
"Park, you were wondering who'd be part of the fall show this year," Sungwoon begins, looking at you like you're the most irradiant ruby in the world. "Well, you have her in front of you." You giggle softly at the man's words, nodding your head at him and then looking at Jimin as if waiting for some praises.
Jimin faintly smiles, seeing your eyes glimmering and he curses himself for not finding you first. You'd have been his by now, his to praise, to kiss, to fuck, to destroy. But he swears, if he happens to break you, he'll gratefully keep you safe close to him.
๑♡՞
T H E N
"Careful," Jimin softly says as he catches you up from falling on the floor. You let out a high pitched laugh, as if all of this is a big joke, and push him back with a hand on his chest.
"I'm fine," you answer, shrugging him off with a flip of your hand. You stagger from left to right, leaning against the wall when you almost fall a second time. You laugh it off again, halting your steps.
Jimin looks at you with a cringe expression, eyeing the people behind, sporting worried looks on their faces.
You all went out after the show; models, designers, directors, stylists... everyone. It wasn't your plan to get drunk, Jimin knows that because you're not supposed to drink alcohol since you're on a very strict diet. A glass from time to time isn't so bad, but your consumption clearly surpassed just one glass tonight.
It's not really your fault, though. Technically yes, since you're the one who swallowed all of the glasses of wine, but you had a little help.
A little help from Jimin himself.
When you weren't looking, he poured more alcohol in your glass and to his satisfaction you've noticed nothing and gulped everything. Sure, you got a bit suspicious, wondering how you had only drank so little when you remembered swallowing more than that.
But Jimin assured you it was only your first glass, so you drank, and drank, and drank... Until you were more than tipsy.
You've received nasty looks from your colleagues, especially the other models who weren't drinking a single drop of wine, and yet, still weren't awarded with the status of the 'face of Dior'. How ironic that the drunkest girl in the room was the face of Dior and the little protégée of Mr. Park.
Years and years of training, countless sleepless nights, meals that are as nutritious as birds seed... All of the efforts in the world to have your biggest dream stolen by a model who is in the industry for less than six months.
Their rage is understandable, but Jimin couldn't care less. In fact, everything is going as planned and he can't fuck things up now. No, because if he does, all of the things he has done until now will be completely irrelevant.
"I'll... I'll bring her to our room, you can go out without us," Jimin announces, watching you sit down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.
"Will she be okay?" A stylist asks.
"Of course. I'll take care of her."
He waits for everyone to be gone before he gets you up from the floor and leads you both to your hotel room. When you're in the room, he sits you down on the bed.
You don't say anything as he takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He crouches down in front of you to remove your heels and he does the same with his shoes, leaving them at the entry.
When he comes back, he sees you quietly crying, the features of your face contorting into a sad expression. You've slightly sobered up, harshly coming back to reality, realizing how much you've embarrassed yourself tonight.
"What did I do?" You ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"
Jimin sits down beside you, lifting your head up with his index under your chin and his thumb over it. "There's nothing that can't be repaired," he states in a soft voice, so low it sounds like a sweet whisper — a secret, a confession only you can hear. "Right?"
You sniff, wiping your tears away. You nod your head in agreement, slightly reassured, hoping Jimin will fix your mistakes. Your foolish mistakes, done by the carefree of a twenty-one year old.
"Shh, baby, shh," he softly murmurs, cradling your head in his hands and gently laying your face against his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter and tighter til suffocation.
He strokes your hair delicately, placing a sweet and warm kiss on the top of your head.
Someone as vulnerable as you contains a lot of emotions. He has to deal with them, which doesn't bother him at all. He wants you the way you are; sad and pitiful.
"Everything's going to be fine," he promises, but it's not entirely the truth. Not everything will be fine, though it'll be in the end, he thinks — he hopes.
You eventually pull away from his embrace, just enough to look at him. It seems like you're searching for something or maybe waiting for something, your eyes desperately staring at Jimin as if his simple presence will make all of your problems fly away.
You throw yourself at him and kiss him on the lips, fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He reciprocates it, knowing you like your kisses sloppy and messy, wanting Jimin everywhere on you to remind you that he's always there.
You bring him closer, crumpling the material of his white shirt between your fists, moaning and whining as your teeth clash together at how roughly you kiss each other.
Jimin breaks your exchange first, both catching your breaths. His eyes observe you quietly as you look at him like you're still waiting for something.
"Did you do what I told you to?" He questions you, referring to your conversation of a few days when you came to his studio to try on his dress.
You were a bit stressed out, putting on the clothing like you were scared you'd rip it. He still remembers the way the satin was sliding up your body, hugging your waist and ass perfectly. He was baffled at how incredibly well it suited you as if he had made it exactly for you.
And maybe it was made for you, after all.
Because when he saw his creation on you, he knew you had to wear it for the runway. It has to be you, he'll accept no one else.
Jimin will make you walk the runway wearing his dress — the last time you'll ever step on the catwalk. After that, he'll keep you away from the rest of the world. He'll refuse anyone to see you because you're going to be his.
His forever.
"Yes," you nod your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Tell me what you did," Jimin softly demands, holding your chin in his hand, mouths inches away from each other.
You're too shy to say it out loud and that's why he wants you to tell him. Also to be sure you did everything correctly, but mainly because he wants to see you embarrassed.
"I prepared myself for you..." You begin, holding eye contact even though you feel your face heating up just thinking about all the things you've done per his request. "I... I used lube both on me and... the toy," you continue in a shy tone, so low Jimin wouldn't hear you if he wasn't so close.
"Where on you, sweetheart?" He interrupts, wanting each detail, each little thing you normally wouldn't have done if it wasn't for him. And all while thinking of him.
You swallow, "On my ass, Jimin," you answer in a whisper. "I stretched it out for you, using the toy like you told me," you finally admit.
"Good girl," Jimin purrs. "Let me see it then."
You proceed to strip off of your dress, now used to be nude in front of him, and slide your panties down your thighs, discarding them away on the floor.
You get back up on the mattress and position yourself on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Jimin stands up and goes behind you to have a closer look at your ass.
His veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, revealing your rim to his insatiable, sadistic eyes. You glance over your shoulder, curious of what he has in mind and what he has prepared for you.
You softly gasp when he spits and lets the globe of spit drip down between your asscheeks, rolling over your puckered hole. You clench around nothing, relieved to have his attention, to finally feel his hands on you instead of the usual touch of yours.
He sees that your ass is a bit looser than the last time he saw it, but it still clearly needs more preparation to welcome his girthy cock — though it's not like he cares that much if you're prepped enough or not.
He passes his thumb over your tight muscle, circling it and smearing his saliva over it. He wants to fuck it so bad, destroy it and do unbelievably violent things to you. Should he tonight? Should he show you his dark and evil side?
He's choked you before — smacked your ass hard til you felt your skin stings, overstimulated you to the point your orgasms were just spasms passing through your body, fucked your throat while you were drooling all over yourself, and tied your legs and wrists together to restrict your movements.
So fucking your ass can't be that bad, but the thing is Jimin wants it to be bad. He then wonders what would happen if the line is ever crossed. Would you endure it, would you defend yourself? Would you shut the fuck up and take it like you're asked to?
But you trust him so much — with all your pathetic being — and he thinks you'd let him cross any lines he desires to. He probably already has crossed multiple lines, and being the poor, sad girl that you are, you said nothing.
You truly are extraordinary.
He gives a slight slap to one of your asscheeks, groping both of them after, feeling how soft and tender your flesh is. "You did good, sweetheart," he comments in a honeyed voice that has you mewling, sounding so smooth and sweet. "How about we play with it a little?"
He lifts up a brow at you and you nod sheepishly, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. "Yes..."
"Great," he says in a low tone, running his hands one last time over your ass before going to take something from his suitcase.
"What is it?" You question, your curious eyes landing on the small object he's holding.
Jimin brings the object to you, something made of metal, the end having the shape of a cone and a pink gem placed on the top. "A gift for my princess," he replies, opening the bottle of lube he brought as well.
He applies some lube around your tight hole and on the butt plug, and carefully pushes the head of the toy in your ass. You gasp softly, feeling it slowly stretch you out, sinking in gradually as Jimin holds your cheeks apart.
"Mmh, feels good, Sir," you moan, arching your back and pushing your butt closer to Jimin.
When the plug is all the way in, the pink gem peeking out between your two globes of flesh, he smacks your other cheek, making it jiggle from the harsh hit.
"Is that so, dirty girl?" He wonders, gripping your hips and colliding his hips with your butt, sensing his big bulge pulsing under his pants. "You like it when your little ass gets stretched out?"
"I like everything you do to me," you say with a content sigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your ass gets used to the small butt plug.
Jimin genuinely thinks he can't find better than you. You were so shy in the beginning, looking like a lost puppy wherever you went. You just needed someone bigger and older to show you the way — though you were too dumb, and still are, to realize he was leading you to the wrong path.
It's not like you seem to mind, anyway.
After all, you both got what you wanted; you, male attention, someone to rely on and be protected by, and him, a woman to break and keep with him forever.
He lets go of your hips to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather material out of the gold loop with the luxury Dior logo on it. He lets the two ends of the belt hang off, not bothering to remove it completely, and tucks the fly of his pants down.
He finally frees his cock from the confines of his boxers, springing up and slapping against his stomach, the bit of pre-cum escaping from his tip dampening his shirt.
"You're so good to me, princess," he praises as he wraps a hand around the base of his engorged cock, aching and begging to be nestled in your cute little pussy.
His head pushes at your entrance, never fully entering, only teasing your hole and stimulating all of your sensitive nerves. He watches how his cock stretches your cunt, your walls expending to receive his bulbous tip and then closing down when he pulls out.
"Sir, please, want more," you beg him, pushing your ass on him to have his dick back in you. You let out a little whimper when Jimin holds your hips in place, stopping you from wiggling your butt side to side against his thick cock.
He hums and slaps your ass harshly, your skin stinging after. "Want my cock in your needy little pussy, baby? Is that what you're crying for?" He asks, teasing even more by swiping the head of his penis between your pussy lips, a string of your arousal sticking to his angry tip.
"Yes," you say back quickly and desperately, arching your back, literally presenting yourself to Jimin. "Been so good, don't I deserve it, Sir?" You softly murmur, still looking over your shoulder to see his gaze fixated on your quivering pussy, cock head sliding up and down over your sex.
"You do..." He responds distractedly, licking his plump lips, his fingers touching the pink gem peeking out from your ass. You're always so good and obedient for him, he even wonders if you ever did something that genuinely pissed him off before.
When he really sinks in, his head passing the barrier of your sweet pussy, he groans deeply, feeling your walls deliciously enveloping his hard cock tightly.
You moan in unison as he bottoms out in you, his balls touching your wet and warm pussy. He bends his back over yours, running his hand up your spine, feeling all the little bumps of it until he reaches your head and shoves it against the mattress.
You whine when he starts pounding into you, his girth stretching you out so well, leaving you panting and moaning loudly. His other hand holds your hip against his dick, fingers digging into your skin, leaving permanent marks on your body — as well as on your mind and your soul.
He already sets a hard and rapid pace — fucking is never soft or loving with Jimin, it's violent, long, and agonizing. It's a way to be himself, the real and dark version of himself he hides in public and releases when he gets intimate with you.
You surprisingly got accustomed to it, embracing it as if it was your destiny, the reason for your existence; to be his personal slut, the little toy he likes to play rough with. And you've accepted it, like you had no other choice but to be fucked into oblivion by Jimin whenever he feels like it.
"You like that, baby? Huh?" He growls, as if you're the disgusting one for liking the way he treats you, ravished and delighted to have his girthy cock sliding against your velvety walls. "You like it when I fuck you hard like this?" He repeats and grips your hair, pushing your head against the bed covers with more strength.
You babble out something, voice caught in your throat, too out of breath to formulate a simple sentence. You then only nod, your cheek squished against the mattress, Jimin's hand still pushing down on your head.
His mouth hangs open to let out heavy breaths and his eyes are focused on your face, watching the little translucent pearls fall on your face and on the covers. Your pussy swallows all of his girth, clenching so tightly it has him groaning and saying profanities under his breath.
It's sick how it makes his cock so fucking hard, leaking so much pre-cum in you and twitching avidly by seeing you struggle to breathe. You crumple the bed sheets between your little fists, doing everything in your power to keep your ass up for Jimin and not slump down on the bed from the hard thrusts he's inflicting on you.
He snaps his hips against your ass and the entirety of his length is covered in your wetness, a white ring made of your cream circling the base of his cock.
His hand holding your head descends to your neck, enclosing it with his fingers, the coldness of his silver rings contrasting with the hotness of your sweaty skin. He squeezes a little, just a bit so you know who's in control, so you never forget Jimin controls you — that he controls your life and thoughts.
With a grip on your hair, he brings your torso up, arched back against his chest. The material of his shirt sticks to your skin, coated in a thin layer of sweat. He continues to pound into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy rapidly, as he holds you by the throat, lewdly licking a long stripe along the side of your face.
You shudder in desire, hair standing up on your delicate arms. "You're my little whore, aren't you, baby?" His mouth is right beside your ear as he whispers dirty things to you, his lips touching your hair, damp at the nape of your neck. "So fucking compliant... You want to please me so bad like the slut that you are," he mouths the words against your hair, cock pulsing hard in your cunt.
His free hand that doesn't have a hold around your throat slides down your body, passing over your belly and reaching your puffy clit. The sharp zipper of his pants graces the flesh just under your ass, irritating your skin and making it itchy.
You clench around him when his digits find your sensitive bud, circling it sensually and slowly, the complete opposite of his hip thrusts.
"Yes, want to please you, Jimin," you gasp, bucking your hips at the feeling of his rough fingertips on your pussy. He grunts when you address him by his name, loving how it sounds on your tongue, so sweet and timid.
He remembers the first time you moaned his name; you were sprawled across his expensive leather couch, blindfolded and hands attached together with his black tie. Intense for your first time with him, but it was also the last time he's ever been that gentle with you.
It was when his cold fingertips graced the skin of your stomach that you let out a squeak followed by his name, said in the quietest moan. He had then stopped his movements and looked at your face, an expression of distress painted over your features.
He had realized how frail and weak you actually were, needing your most important sense to be at ease. That's why he had blindfolded you, to show you how dependent you are of him, how impossible it is for you to live without him to guide you.
He pushes your jaw to the side so your lips can meet his in a feverish kiss, wet tongues mingling together, drool dripping down from the corners of your mouth. He continues to ram his cock in your now soppy and messy pussy, the sound of skin against skin resonating in the hotel room.
He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper and close your walls around his girth once again. Your little hands grip the material of his trousers, keeping him close and holding on to something because the hard cadence of his hip thrusts push you forward, breasts bouncing up on your chest.
"Fuck," he curses and he suddenly stops, steadying his hips against your butt. You let out a whiny moan as Jimin lets go of your face and hips.
You're sad to have your pleasure ripped away from you so hastily, but you don't have the time to complain, Jimin slipping out of your cunt and pushing you down violently on the mattress.
You turn around on your back to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it on the floor, revealing to you his beautiful chest and defined abs. He gets rid of his pants and socks after, finally removing his boxers, the only things remaining on him being his rings and the watch crowning his right wrist.
His cock glistens in your juices, more pre-cum leaking from his swollen tip and twitching avidly against his stomach. Even though him fucking you while being all dressed and you completely bare is a way to humiliate and degrade you, he also likes to be naked sometimes.
He loves skin to skin contact, how your bodies stick together because of all the sweat coating you. It's addicting, it's rougher and it creates more friction — more pain.
He doesn't mind being naked too because he knows how to dominate you either way. He doesn't find it embarrassing, on the contrary, it makes him scarier and hungrier. While you shiver without your clothes on, curled up on yourself, Jimin is imposing, his cock thick and girthy enough to split you in half.
He crawls back to you, hovering over you like a predator had caught his prey, boring his eyes into yours. You look at him in awe, always waiting patiently. You feel his cock against your thigh, thick and veiny, your hole pathetically quivering — missing his size stretching out your pussy.
He sneaks a hand between your legs and reaches the little pink gem, ready to get it out. "Take a deep breath sweetheart," Jimin instructs and you inhale deeply.
He doesn't waste a second, pulling out the butt plug out of your ass. You scrunch your eyes shut at the pain, exhaling when it's done. He carefully sets it on the nightstand, coming back to you after.
He bends your legs over your stomach and looks at your ass, just begging him to fuck it, shining with lube and arousal that leaks from your pussy. His erect cock is just so close to it and Jimin could slide right in with one movement of his hips.
He lets go of one of your legs to grip his engorged erection, a little gasp escaping your lips when he presses the head of his cock at your tight hole, threatening to sink in.
"Sir," you sigh, not sure if you're ready for that. It always burns no matter how good you prepped before and he knows that. That's why he's so tempted, that he's staring so obsessively at your rim.
Will it hurt you? Will you grip his biceps in an attempt to dissuade him? He wants to see those tears falling from your eyes again, he wants to lick them and tastes your pain. He feels more blood rush to his penis at the mere thought of hurting you.
Give him all of your pain, he'll fucking take it whole and cherish it. He wants it — he needs it. Accuse him for having a sick and twisted mind, accuse him for everything you've ever been hurt by because he'll gladly take the blame.
"I know you can take it," he says in a low tone, glancing up at your face as he applies just a bit more pressure to your ass hole. "Can you, baby?" Jimin asks, waiting for you to admit how much you want it, how badly you want him to destroy you.
"Yes..." You whisper back, a long shiver running up your spine as his eyes pierce through you.
"Yes, what? Tell me, sweetheart," he demands, and it's as if he doesn't care about your response whatsoever because the next thing he does makes you yelp in pain.
His tip has entered you, the burning sensation forcing you to scrunch your eyes shut, your instinct thinking it'll protect you.
"Yes, I- I can..." you stutter and as expected, you dig your nails in the flesh of his biceps — only fair to hurt him in return. "I can take your cock in my ass..."
You take a sharp breath, eyes slowly opening, all watery and painful. Jimin groans at that, stuffing more of himself in your hole. "Good girl," he praises, voice raspy, ending with a deep grunt.
He stretches you out completely, his dick in no comparison to the toys you've used to prepare yourself. You open your mouth as he pushes himself in gradually, tears streaming down your face when you blink.
The tears roll down the side of your face and Jimin can't help but be turned on, leaning in to kiss your face and collect some of your tears, tasting the saltiness of them on his tongue.
"Jimin...!" You look at him with the saddest and most hurtful gaze, tears rolling down your face. "It burns," you add in a quiet voice, now scratching his back, leaving long red trails on his skin.
"I know, baby, I know," he softly murmurs in your ear, a husky moan leaving his mouth when he's completely nestled in you, balls touching your ass. "You're so tight, fuck," he sucks air through his teeth, not moving until he estimates he's waited long enough.
He gives warm and wet kisses to your neck, descending to your collarbones and groping your breasts, slowly starting to move his hips. You lock your legs behind his back, wanting him as close to you as possible despite the pain he's inflicting on you.
He loves knowing it hurts you because it makes it more pleasurable to him somehow. The pain will go away soon anyway, that's why he doesn't bother to stop or slow down. You have to get used to the feeling first.
He wouldn't go too far to hurt you. The choking, the hair pulling, the smacks... He keeps it for the bedroom, but he won't lie that there's a part of him that wants to ruin your life, ruin everything you've accomplished so far just so he can see those sad eyes of yours and hear you ask him for help out of desperation.
It's not even sexual, he just wants to break you, that's all he desires. Though your life is something he wants to destroy, it's more of a way to have you dependant on him after. If your career is no longer successful, your solution is Jimin because he's the only person in your life capable of taking care of you both emotionally and physically.
His teeth chew on the tender skin of your neck while his hand travels all over your body, many veins popping out along his strong arm. The cool sensation of his rings on your stomach makes you shiver, his finger gently circling your clit to make the pain more bearable.
His cock slides in your hole back and forth, your ass slowly but surely taking the size of girth. Many curses leave Jimin's mouth, your ass probably the best he's ever fucked. You feel so good around him, you're tight, but you loosen easily, making it so, so pleasurable for him.
His hand that was roaming over your body comes to close around your throat and he turns his head to your side, lips brushing over your temple. "Yeah, just like that, baby," he mutters under his breath, his nose pressing down on your hair as he murmurs the words to you. "Just like that..."
A choked moan is all you can respond, eyes rolling back in your skull as Jimin splits your ass open, fucking his thick cock into you. His hot breath hits the side of your face, his chest heaving rapidly while you claw at his back, white scratches appearing on his skin.
He sweetly kisses your temple as he pounds into you, not tightening his hand around your throat, just holding you in place — always letting you know that he is always in control.
Your tits slightly bounce up and down on your chest, little whines coming out of you each time Jimin bottoms out. It starts feeling good for you — really good — and you think that this pleasure is totally worth a bit of pain at the beginning.
You grip the hair at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He accepts it, kissing you back as if he wants to possess your whole mouth, biting and licking your lips. You moan into his mouth, twisting his hair between your fist and sinking your nails into the flesh of his back.
He backs away from you a little, his plump lips glistening in both of your saliva, and places his two palms on your boobs. He feels your perky nipples under his hands, just loving how plushy your breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms.
He keeps thrusting in you as he gropes your tits and you bring your hands over his, looking into each other's eyes. He lowly groans, holding eye-contact with you.
You feel his veins under your palms, your pussy clenching around nothing but air while you run your hands all over his arms. You enjoy the sensations of his pulsing veins under your small fingers as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, staring into Jimin's dark eyes.
"Jimin..." You moan his name, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his hard cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Jimin takes the opportunity to smooch your neck again as you expose it to him, his full lips delicately pressing down on your throat. "I love it," you sigh pleasantly.
He hums, the sound coming deep from his throat. He wants to hurt you, yes, but he likes it even more when you love the pain. He just knew you were exactly like him when he first saw you. He had the feeling that you needed someone like him, someone that'd push you to your limits and make you discover a new type of pleasure.
And he was right because there's not one time where you told him to stop.
"My dirty girl," he purrs in response, bringing his lips up to your jaw. He slowly rolls your nipples between his fingertips, pinching and pulling on them. "You're stupid, but so, so good for me, baby," he groans in your ear, gritting his teeth as he feels his balls tightening.
He slowly halts his hips movements, letting out heavy breaths as he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp when he does so, already missing his cock stretching out your ass.
You're both trying to catch your breaths, Jimin raising himself up from you and getting out of the bed. His erection stands tall against his stomach, bouncing up as he walks to the front of the bed.
You watch him getting away until he orders you to follow him. "Come here," he says softly and you don't make him wait. "On your knees," Jimin commands when you're facing him, sinking down to your knees after.
He places a hand behind your head and the other around the base of his dick, guiding the head of his cock toward your lips as he pushes down on your head.
"Here, baby," he instructs in a low voice. "Take it in your mouth." You part your lips to welcome Jimin's length, his bulbous tip shining in pre-cum and your juices under the light of the hotel room.
He immediately moans when he enters the warmth of your mouth, his heavy cock sliding on your wet tongue. He doesn't let you have much control, pushing his dick in your mouth until your nose touches his pubic hair.
You relax your jaw for Jimin, allowing him to stuff your mouth full of his cock. He looks down at you, watching the way your lips wrap around him tightly, your eyes starting to water. He still holds the back of your head with one hand, guiding you over his stiff erection and you moan obscenely around Jimin, drool dripping down on your chin.
He begins to fuck your mouth, forcing you to take the whole thing each time he bottoms out. He moves his hips back and forth, obsessed with the way his girth appears and reappears between your lips as he uses your mouth as he pleases.
"Shit," he hisses when you hollow your cheeks, making it more pleasurable for him. "You're a fucking cockslut, aren't you, baby?" He says breathily, his eyes not once leaving his cock penetrating your mouth over and over again.
You whine around him, surely agreeing with what he said. It sends deliciously vibrations through his entire body, the sounds of your moans and hearing you gag around him is so arousing to him. He wants to hear more so he literally uses your mouth like a toy, snapping his hips against you, his balls slapping your chin.
He lets out a deep moan, your cheeks now damp and eyelashes all wet because of your tears, eyes stinging as Jimin fucks your throat like a mad man.
"Stroke your clit," he manages to say between two heavy breaths. "You can get off by yourself, right? I know you're soaking wet just by letting me use that pretty mouth of yours," he mocks you, but he knows he's right. Whatever he does, your cunt is always dripping wet.
You whimper again, doing what he told you to and sneaking a hand between your thighs to play with your pussy. You part your legs wider as you circle your clit with your finger, Jimin's hooded eyes lazily watching you playing with yourself.
Your right hand is laying on his thigh while the other is operating between your legs, pleasuring yourself to the sounds of Jimin's moans and the feeling of his stiff cock weighing down on your tongue.
You do your best to breathe through your nose, swallowing around his length and flattening your tongue underneath him. Your juices drip down your inner thighs, your finger flickering over your sensitive bud smoothly because of your arousal.
The whole room is smelling like sex, an odour that Jimin can't ignore, loving it so much. Your lips glide so easily over his hard cock, completely covered in your spit and still some of your wetness, tasting yourself on him.
"Ah, fuck," he curses, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes still strained down on you. He feels the familiar burning sensation at the pit of his stomach, indicating he's really close to his orgasm. He stops thrusting in you. "Go on the bed, baby."
You're taken aback, but you follow his order, pulling him out of your mouth and laying your back down on the mattress close to the edge. You beautifully moan when Jimin penetrates your pussy a second time, bending your legs over your stomach.
"Oh, god," you cry softly, being pounded onto the bed by him right away, tits moving up and down on your chest.
His hands are positioned on each side of your shoulders, snapping his hips against yours so harshly you feel your skin stinging. You keep doing circle motions on your clit, now faster and impatient to reach your high.
You let out a high-pitched moan when Jimin suddenly steadies his hips over yours, dropping down to his elbows as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Holy fuck," he grunts, gripping the bed sheets tightly in fists beside your head as his cock twitches in your pussy.
"Yes, yes," you quietly exclaim, your clitoral orgasm passing through you, making you arch your back and buck your hips.
Your hole clenches repeatedly around him and he finally comes undone into you, shooting long, thick ropes of cum deep into you. He empties himself in your wet cunt, cumming just after you.
When he slips out of you, more spurts out of his tip, landing on your pussy, covering it in his creamy cum. You moan at the warm sensation, always loving how it feels both in and on you. Some of his seeds dribble out of you, dripping down to your ass.
He stays above you for some time, catching his breath and looking at the mess he made on you. He stares up at your face, seeing how fucked up you look, hair in a nest and eyes reddened.
Later, Jimin is in the shower, washing his hair and his body, passing a soft cloth soaked in soap over his chest. He lets the water fall over his head, wetting his black locks. He stays maybe a bit longer than normally, staring at the tiled wall.
He thinks about you, about all the things he's planned. He revised everything in his head, imagining you walk on the podium wearing his design, people looking at his piece with admiration in their eyes.
He thinks about all of that that will go down for you after the show, getting fired, losing your career and your fans. Many articles talking about your excessive use of alcohol and drugs, saying how tired and sad you look beside Jimin.
You won't last long, you're too weak anyway. A downfall like this is unconquerable, nobody recovers from that, and surely not a model who will be thrown out of the industry as soon as you turn twenty-five.
Jimin knows the industry, he's been in it for years now. He's aware of how cruel it is, how difficult and harsh it can be on fragile little girls like you.
But that's why he's here, to take care of you once nobody will want you anymore. That's the goal, after all; you to be finally his — solely and completely his.
"Jimin?"
Your voice reaches him, turning his head in your direction, seeing you hesitantly entering the shower with him. He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you do, hugging him and laying your head down on his wet chest.
"I love you, sweetheart," he softly murmurs against your hair. "I'll never leave you, you know that, right?"
You nod your head, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. "I love you, too."
๑♡՞
A F T E R
The runway went incredibly well. Celebrities and journalists were all gathered for the fall show, totally amazed by every design and the models that were wearing them.
But there was one specific piece that everyone was willing to say was the best.
Jimin was satisfied to see that his name stood out among everyone else's, being called more times than Dior itself. He predicted it; it was the creation that every guest remembered, the dress that the fans were only talking about.
He'd take all the credit, he was the one who imagined it and then sewed it after all, but he has to admit that you had contributed to the fame a lot.
Being the beloved face of Dior only made people talk more about it and that was what Jimin needed.
But everything has an end, doesn't it?
When Jimin comes back to his apartment, the place is silent except for the TV playing, as he thought it would be. You're looking through the window, watching the city living at night while it's raining. You're sitting on the sofa, not even acknowledging his presence as he enters, getting rid of his shoes.
You're not much of a talker since you've been fired from Dior a few days ago just after the fall show. He understands your wish of remaining silent, needing a bit of space to process everything that has happened the past weeks in your small head.
It was going to happen soon enough anyway. You've been to your photoshoots completely drunk, sometimes just going in with a hangover, but of course it didn't help your case at all.
Jimin was guilty for letting you drink alcohol so soon in the morning. No need to deny it, he was even the one for dropping you off at work like that. Well, he had to do it if he wanted people to notice how far you've fallen.
He doesn't feel bad, though. Your career wasn't going to last with Jimin's sabotage or not. He did you a favour, you should be thankful.
You can't handle being a model. If you could, none of that would have happened. You wouldn't have gained weight, you would have been suspicious of the amount of calories Jimin was feeding you. The bottle of wine wouldn't have been so tempting and smoking weed wouldn't have ever occurred to you as a good idea.
Some people can, others can't and you're one of them. You shouldn't be ashamed of it, sometimes things just don't work out like we would have wanted them to.
"Did you see the article they wrote about me?" You ask, already knowing he's walking up to you without looking. "You surely did, I bet that's all they're talking about..."
He sits down beside you and you eventually turn around, facing him. You care so much about what others think of you. It must be so tiring having such a low self-esteem. He can only imagine it; seeing you look through the window like a sad puppy, your life finally making sense when Jimin comes home.
"I did, but nothing of that matters to me," he answers, the most honest he's ever been. And even if he had to lie, it's not like you wouldn't have believed him. You always trust whatever he says.
You don't reply, your head still filled with many thoughts.
"Hey, come here," he softly tells you, patting his thigh. You straddle his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders. He cups your chin, forcing you to look at him as you keep avoiding his gaze. "Whatever they say, whatever their name is, nothing will ever be more important than you."
Because who is he if he lets some article affect the way he sees you? He's known you since the beginning of your career and he stayed til the end of it.
He knows you better than everyone else. He was with you during your highs and lows and he'll still be there for the next ones. There's nothing in the world that could make him leave you. After everything he's done to have you, there's no way he'll go away.
How cowardly of him if he does. He can't leave when he's promised he'd heal you — close all of your past wounds and create other ones.
He may be selfish, but there's one thing that he isn't and it's a fucking liar. He sticks to his words, and when he says he'll never leave you, that means he'll never, never abandon you — he'll never leave your side, not even once. He can't risk it.
๑♡՞
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taglist: @mcsalterego @blueberryarchive @gyukookswhore @bloopkook @ot72025 @mrsminho @ownthesunshine @dahliadaenerys
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Let's address the MVP in the atom eve special: Zak
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He gave Eve an opening to show her interest. And when she got into detail, he listened to every word.
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He didn't disregard her intelligence or bitterly called her a "know-it-all" or called her names like "nerd" or "weirdo", instead, he was fascinated with her. He openly showed interest in wanting to know what she knows.
Of course there's a little personal agenda that he needed to learn these things but you can tell that he was genuine with her.
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What really made me feel so emotional is that Zak celebrates Eve, he proudly compliments her to her parents. And he's aware/probably aware that she's not a very verbal kid around her parents so he took it upon himself to prove her genius.
He showed every model Eve built and carefully picked them up to show them off. You can even see Eve smile when he showed the magnesium model. And even if he doesn't completely know what the final model is, he still praised it.
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And can we applaud this dude? He literally understood what was happening to her, what she was seeing, before her own parents did. And if this was his first time babysitting her? That's just all the more impressive of him to be able to realize.
Even as Zak said all that about Eve being able to see and memorize molecules, you can feel that he was amazed by Eve the entire time.
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You can see that Eve was visibly distressed in this moment cause her parents aren't the least bit happy.
But Zak handled it well. Teens would fold or agree when the adults seem to disagree or don't want to hear them out (especially if they're babysitting, wouldn't want to lose that pay). But that's not the case with him. He didn't raise his voice to be heard. But he made it known that he thinks what Eve knows and what she can do is cool.
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And most importantly, Zak didn't forget his manners. He thanked Eve and made sure she knows that she helped him a lot by showing that he's confident he'll do well in his test.
He literally did every single thing right. This boy was raised right. We don't have much info on him but he was a great character in the entirety of his screen time.
I don't think I can stress this enough but his whole scene was amazing.
Eve looks super young here and she might not remember this moment but I'm sure she's glad that at that moment, someone made her feel okay with herself.
That what she's seeing is okay.
That what she knows is okay.
And that it's okay to show it to others too.
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csuitebitches · 4 months
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Things I Have to do for My Sanity
1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.
2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.
3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.
4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.
5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.
6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.
7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.
I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.
8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.
I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.
Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.
Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.
The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.
Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):
1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 
2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 
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hs-is-loml · 1 year
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Avoid. (x.t)
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Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Reader
Summary: blurb! after thinking about something bianca said to you a few days ago, you started to create a small distance from your boyfriend. which of course he noticed.
Warnings: established relationship, self-doubt, the smallest bit of angst, fluff ending
a/n: okay, so i ended up not reading my textbook, and worked on other things instead... but anyways enough about that just remember you are always more than enough<3
masterlist
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“You look awfully lonely,” a voice said from beside you. "You mind if I join?"
Your gaze moved from the pavement to a pair of green eyes that you knew far too well.
“I was enjoying a moment of peace actually,” you responded to the boy before you continued to look ahead at the path in front of you that led into the city.
“Moment of peace or are you avoiding me?” Xavier countered with his eyebrows raised giving you a knowing look.
“No, I definitely think it was for a moment of peace,” you replied pausing for a second. “From you…”
“I KNEW IT!”
“You don’t have to be so loud, it’s only us,” you laughed at the boy’s reaction.
“Wait. Why have you been avoiding me? You haven’t even responded to my texts earlier,” Xavier asked with a worried tone.
“I ran into someone a few days ago, and they made me realized something,” you answered wanting to move on from the topic.
“And what did they make you realized?”
“That I shouldn’t get to attached.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,” Xavier uttered.
“Xavier, it’s nothing personal,” you lied. “I don’t want to hold you back.”
What really happened was a few days ago Bianca came up to you sprouting thoughts of doubt about your relationship with Xavier throughout your mind. She talked about how this was only temporary for him until he would eventually get bored and come back to her. You knew that wouldn’t actually happen, but it didn’t stop you from creating more distance between you and Xavier for the past few days.
“I think you ignoring me is definitely personal,” he scoffed. “Y/n, it takes two people to be in a relationship.”
“Which two people,” you said under your breathe though he was still able to pick up what you whispered.
“No, seriously, what is your problem with me right now?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” you snapped quickening your pace to walk ahead of him. “You always go back to her don’t you?”
“Who?” Xavier asked in the most utter confusion.
“Bianca.”
“Why would I go back to her? I have you.”
“What if I not enough?” you blurted out stopping in your tracks to turn around and face him.
“You are more enough. You’re all I need,” Xavier walked closer to you.
“I-”
“You are the only person that I want,” he wrapped his arms around you allowing you to lean your head against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized.
“No, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“No, I do. I shouldn’t have let Bianca have that much power over our relationship,” you admitted. “I was just scared that what if you got bored with being with me?”
“How could I ever get bored? I could stare at you for hours,” he laughed.
“You’re only saying that because you need a model to draw,” you pushed him away laughing.
“I don’t need a model if you’re my muse,” he joked.
“Maybe I was right for avoiding you.” you said walking faster to the city.
“Wait! Hey! NO MORE AVOIDING.”
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neonghostlights · 3 months
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Eddie flipped through the magazine, once and then again before he blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes until he saw stars, but none of this did anything to change what was printed on the glossy page before him.
You, walking out of your job and unaware of the camera aimed in your direction.
Eddie’s heart did a little flip at the sight of you. It had been about six years since he last saw you and even the image on the page radiated your beauty.
“Mr. Munson,” Jane spoke again, stress marring her face. “Are you still listening?”
Oh, he had been listening to the shit show that was now his life.
When he walked away from you all those years ago he never expected you to get dragged into the circus of his fame.
Becoming a rockstar had always been his dream, something he had achieved with his best friends at his side. The road had been rocky, he had fallen from grace. He made bad decisions, treated people like shit. He had gotten himself together, mostly, but now karma was catching up to him like the pest she was.
He had pissed someone off. He wasn’t sure who but they had made it a point to spite him.
The magazine had printed a tell all about the three exes of Eddie Munson.
Eddie scoffed at the title.
The Three Exes of Eddie Munson: Their Time to Talk
He would hardly say Rosie was an ex, hard to be that when they were never real at all. It was simply PR a way to promote his album and her movie. Her page showed her on the streets of Italy, clearly a photo shot by the paparazzi as the hid behind a building. She was smiling, laughing at something her costar said.
Her feature talked about her and Eddie’s ‘short and sweet whirlwind romance before it turned sour with partying.’
He did have a habit of partying in those days. He honestly didn’t remember the incident that caused their agreement to end but he knew it was bad.
The second ex was Jennifer. Jennifer was a poorly judged fling that should have never happened. She was a model, polished and proper and he was, well, Eddie.
It didn’t even last a week.
Her photo was her walking down the runway, face trained ahead and staring at the camera that she knew loved her.
Her feature said that Eddie left her broken hearted and ruined, that he made it hard for her to ever trust another man.
Eddie knew that wasn’t exactly how it went down.
The next page was the one that really hurt.
You looked tired, overworked as you walked out of the building.
Eddie traced a finger over your photo. It had been so long since he last saw you. He recognized the building in the photo so that meant you must have stayed in Hawkins when he left you brokenhearted on his trailer steps.
He wondered how they knew about you. Who in their right mind would spill to the world his best kept secret?
There was no juicy printed story under your photo, only speculations about who you were to him.
“Eddie?” His managers voice cut in, ruining his train of thought.
“Fix this. Now.” He snapped, shoving the magazine and his only remaining photo of you into his jacket pocket.
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cutielando · 19 days
Text
threat ~ max verstappen
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Summary: When Red Bull thinks it's a good idea for Max to be in a PR relationship with a model, Max is left to make a choice. Ruin your privacy or ruin your relationship?
Words: 1.0k+
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Secret relationships were fun.
Sneaking out behind people’s backs, stealing glances at each other when you thought nobody was watching.
But they stopped being fun once management got involved.
Max had a very public life, and a very dangerous job to begin with. He needed to be careful with a lot of things, and that oftentimes included his image. He didn’t care about any of it, he was content with people not knowing about your relationship in order to protect your privacy and have something that was only for himself.
He was okay with it, you were okay with it, everybody was happy.
Except for Red Bull Racing.
They didn’t like the idea of their number 1 driver being seen as unapproachable because he is always without a partner, and since you two didn’t want to showcase the relationship on their terms, they figured out another way to go.
PR relationship with a model.
You couldn’t say that you were surprised. Red Bull was notorious for being willing to do whatever it takes to be on the top, no matter in what field. But you didn’t expect Max to go along with it, certainly.
“We need to talk” he had announced after he came home from a meeting with Red Bull.
You raised your eyebrow, his tone doing little to soothe the worries pitting in your stomach.
“About what?”
“Us” his response made your breath hitch in your throat.
“What about us?” a million thoughts were running through your head, one more sinister than the other.
He sighed, scratching his neck.
“I don’t want to beat around the bush, so I’m just gonna say it. The team doesn’t think that hiding our relationship is beneficial for my reputation, so they are giving us two choices. We either go public in the next few days or they’re gonna hire a model to be my fake girlfriend” to say that the news had come like a punch would be the understatement of the year.
You knew from the very beginning that Red Bull was very vocal and opinionated over your relationship with Max and how it should evolve, but you never thought they would stoop down so low and come up with something like this just because you wouldn’t play by their rules.
“What did you tell them?” you asked, part of you afraid of what the answer would be.
He was silent for a moment, which spoke more about the situation than his words would.
“I told them that I didn’t like being given an ultimatum and that I’m gonna think about it” hearing him brought tears to your eyes.
You didn’t know what you should have expected. Of course he would end up agreeing, you were stupid to think that he would stand up for your relationship and live a secret life forever. You should have known better from the very start.
Who were you even kidding?
“I see” you said, after being silent for a good minute upon hearing him.
“I obviously don’t want to date someone else, regardless if it’s fake or real. But we need to talk about this. You know how the team is, they’re going to make the decision for me and we both know what that decision is going to look like” he said, slowly approaching the bed and sitting down next to you.
You nodded, staring at the folded hands in your lap.
Your brain was struggling to make a decision, struggling to weigh in all the factors that it was supposed to consider.
Were you ready to go public with your relationship? Did you really have what it takes to be Max’s girlfriend? How would his fans react when they found out he was dating someone as ordinary as you? How would it affect his reputation and relationship with the team? Was it even worth the risk?
“I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours. Wanna tell me what you’re thinking so hard about?” his voice woke you up from your little trance, his joking tone doing little to soothe your worries.
You looked at him, analyzing the features of his face. He was too good for you, you knew that. But damn you and your selfishness, you weren’t about to let him go.
“I don’t want to be the reason you tarnish your relationship with the team. I love you too much to be that person. The decision is up to you” you figured that letting him decide would be your best bet, it was his reputation on the line after all.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you into going public. We’ll do whatever makes you comfortable. I just wanted you to know what the team is planning to do, but I’m not going to let them ruin us” he reassured you, taking your hand in his.
You closed your eyes and savored the feeling of his skin on yours, his touch familiar and safe. Nobody had ever made you feel like Max does, not even close to it. He brought a sense of comfort in your life that nobody else ever could, he knew you better than you knew yourself.
You had to take a risk if you wanted to be with him.
No matter how hard it would be.
“I want to go public, believe me, I do. But what are your fans going to say? You see what they do with the other girlfriends, they look for the tiniest reason to just tear them to shreds” you said, worry laced with apprehension in your voice.
Max shook his head and scooted closer to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug.
“My fans are the last thing that you should be worried about. If they don’t agree with our relationship, then they aren’t my real fans. All that matters is that we’re happy and in love, nobody else has a say in this” he reassured you, running his hand up and down your back as he spoke.
You listened and then ultimately nodded, knowing that he was right and you were freaking out over nothing.
As long as you had Max, you would be fine.
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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month
Note
Ahh moonlight you don’t know how much I wanted to send in a request but I was at work.
Anyways how would the second years or first years react to y/n dating Nanami or Gojo.
You make your way to Jujutsu High, so ready to finally see your boyfriend again. He didn’t come home for what feels like forever, busy with assisting the young ones on multiple missions.
“I’m not a teacher, darling”, he reminded you over and over again.
“You sure sound like one. I want to meet those kids someday!”
And this means today. A little surprise won’t hurt him, right?
“Nanami-sensei!”, you hear a male voice shout out of a classroom nearby, your heart instantly melting.
“Don’t call me that”, the oh so serious voice of your boyfriend replies.
You can’t help but grin from ear to ear, heart filled with warmth in an instant. While he acts all serious, strict and aloof, you know better than anyone else what a sweetheart Kento Nanami really is. That boy calling him teacher made his heart skip a beat, will haunt him forever in the most precious way. While Kento never wished to be someone people looked up to, he has become a real role model in the world of jujutsu for the young ones.
And what a handsome one.
“Can you just shut up, Itadori?”, a female voice mutters annoyed while you draw closer.
“Did you hear that, Fushiguro?”
“I don’t listen to you guys…”
“Oh, so you think you’re better, huh? That’s bold from someone who looks like a sea urchin-“
“Take that back right now.”
“That wasn’t really nice, Kugisaki. It’s not Fushiguro’s fault he looks like that.”
“What is wrong with you kids…”, Kento mumbles under his breath.
“Hi!”
Complete silence, all pairs of eyes are set on you while you smile at all three students sitting in front of their desks gently.
Before your eyes get glued onto him. Kento, standing in front of them with his flexed arms crossed. Kento, with his sleeves rolled up just enough for you to see his veiny forearms. Kento, with an utter look of surprise plastered on his normally so neutral face.
“Darling, what are you doing here?”, he questions softly.
“DARLING!?”
As if his students disappeared into thin air, Kento crosses the room to wrap his arms around you immediately.
“I wanted to stop by and see who you’re working with.”
“There’s no way she’s your girl”, the girl in the middle murmurs.
“You never told us you have a partner, Nanami-sensei!”, a pink-haired boy suddenly blurts out.
“Don’t call me that”, Kento warns him with sharp voice.
“You know they will never stop talking about you, right?”, he murmurs against your ear.
“Nanami-sensei, I-“
“I’ll slap you”, your boyfriend grumbles.
“He won’t”, you assure the pink-haired boy with a cheeky grin.
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cottontears · 25 days
Note
cotton! cotton! ellie whos in a band w rs roommate and super slowburn cus ellies a loser!!!! please please pleaseeee 🫶🏼😫😫
brooklyn baby
ೃ⁀➷ ellie williams x fem reader
ೃ⁀➷ word count 2.6k+
ೃ⁀➷ summary/ tropes: loser ellie willams, shy ellie, slow burn, fluff, angst, lovesick ellie, mutual pining, idiots to lovers, idiots in lovee.
ೃ⁀➷ warnings: i did not have it in me to write smut today, so just fluff and a kiss!👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩----- i think i made it a bit longer than i had to, i think i will maybe remake it later with more smut idk, hope you like!
ೃ⁀➷ reblogs and comments always appreciated 🫶🏻
╰➤ linktree ╰➤ pinterest╰➤request rules
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┈୨♡୧┈
it wasn’t every day you went out with your roommate, you never really allowed yourself to.
you barely had the time, life taking up most of your time. you had to work as a cashier to make ends meet, barely. and not to forget modeling, it being both your passion and the reason for your nails being bitten down to the quick.
but, you had not gotten a callback for a job you had been looking forward to, and you needed to de-stress.
so you went with your roommate where her boyfriend’s band was playing.
your roommate was nice. her name was alice and she was always trying to get you to go everywhere with her, so you said yes once in a while, so as to not hurt her feelings.
you put on a skimpy outfit made with the clothes the modeling agencies paid you with. 
it was fun, you had to admit, to put on makeup just the way you liked- not for the judgmental casting directors. just for you.
you blew a kiss toward your reflection before getting up and making your way toward the living room in your small apartment.
alice screamed out your name as she came out of your room, “look at you, you look so so pretty!”
you laughed and walked into her open arms for a hug. she smelled like expensive perfume.
the buzzer announced her boyfriend, and you made your way out of the apartment hand in hand.
┈୨♡୧┈
you were with the band, so you did not even have to use your fake id.
alice had told you about how her boyfriend had been making good money with covers, but their ultimate goal was to record original songs.
they were the ‘real deal’ alice had said, they had met with an agent and were in the process of a record deal.
you tuned her out for most of the talk, but she looked proud and in the love of her boyfriend, you were happy for her. truly, you were, but something inside you ached with envy. you barely had time to date, let alone meet someone, and you did not like dating apps, so it was just you, your trashy kindle unlimited books, and a vibrator. the worst part was that they were rarely able to fulfill your needs. so you just ignored, ignored, and repressed your needs. focusing on schoolwork, and your jobs.
you had to make your parent’s proud, they worked hard to give you opportunities they could only wish they had.
you bottled up everything until you couldn’t. well… tonight was the night.
you sat by the bar, sipping fruity drinks and smiling at strangers as they tried their best to get into your pants.
you had enough, so you excused yourself, leaving the bar through the back door. 
your hands shook as your fingers fumbled into your purse for your pack of cigarettes. you leaned your back against the wall, facing the parking lot.
as soon as you inhaled the smoke, you could feel your heartbeat slow. 
you heard the door open, but you paid it no mind, focusing on the lightheadedness caused by the nicotine.
“hey, you’re alice’s friend right?”
you were not expecting to be acknowledged, so with furrowed brows you turned to the voice. 
your movements were slow, languid. the girl was pretty, you nodded as you took her in, not making a noise. she wore jeans and a hoodie. 
you took another drag of your cigarette before flicking it.
her green eyes met yours. 
her hair appeared to be brown, but when the incandescent light of the street lamp hit her, it turned auburn.
you smiled at the pretty stranger, the alcohol and the nicotine making you loopy.
she blushed and looked down at her dirty converse. you opened your pack and offered it to her silently, her eyes flashed to yours. with had not left her being. 
her hand trembled softly as she reached for one and placed it on her lips, you flicked on the lighter and placed it on the end of the cigarette. 
your eyes never left her as you dropped the butt of your cigarette and put it out with your shoe, not even when you placed another on your lips.
her eyes darted from you to the cars. she was nervous. but not nervous enough to break the silence.
it clicked suddenly, “hey! you’re the bassist!” you flashed your teeth.
she nodded, her eyes wide.
this time they maintained your gaze. 
the peace was broken when the door opened once again and alice, her boyfriend, and the rest of the band strutted out.
alice took in the scene and smiled, “hey guys! we’ve been looking for you two!”
“well love, we’ve been here, smoking, and talking.” you cocked your head
“ellie? talking?”
you chuckled, “ellie huh? no, not really, we just smoked.”
ellie’s face and ears turned red, which you found adorable. the rest of the band, which consisted of two other boys, chattered in the background.
you took a last inhale before putting out the cigarette and walking toward alice with a smile.
“look at you all drunk and happy!” alice wrapped her arm around your waist, smashing the sides of your hips together.
you rolled your eyes. “i’m hungry.”
“how about we eat at that diner you love?”
┈୨♡୧┈
the drive to the diner had been… something.
alice’s boyfriend, always the designated driver drove. alice rode shotgun, her feet on the dash as she skipped song after song. you sat by the window, forehead resting on the glass. ellie’s hips pushed into yours, she did her best not to squirm. but the drummer and the keys were trading kisses, and alice held hands with the lead singer. 
ellie felt lonely, and she wanted to talk to you, but her throat closed up in anxiety every time she thought of something to say.
you were so pretty, you oozed confidence. 
the moment your eyes met hers her heart had skipped a beat.
and at the restaurant, she could feel herself spiraling the moment the pretty waiter started to flirt with you.
you smiled at them and did not seem that put off by their advances.
and when you pocketed their number at the end of the night, well she knew there was no hope. that did not stop her from dreaming though…
┈୨♡୧┈
“so who is the girl the song’s about huh?”
“babe, it’s no one!”
“oh please-”
“i swear!”
“you are the one who writes the lyrics! just tell me you don’t love me anymore!”
the argument had gone on for about half an hour, it had just escalated as alice’s soon-to-be ex denied and denied. you could barely hear alice and her boyfriend arguing through the walls.
you made yourself a sandwich.
the other members of the band were not so subtly hooking up in the guest bathroom.
and ellie squirmed on the sofa.
“BABE! calm the fuck down.
oh. fuck no. you were seconds away from barging in, when- 
“i did not want- FUCK- ellie wrote the song okay?”
you froze completely.
“oh!”
“fuck!”
the screaming match turned into whispers and your ears were unable to pick up the words.
you turned your head to ellie, she looked so embarrassed you pitied her. 
so you did the best thing you thought would reduce the embarrassment. you grabbed your computer and sat on the counter, opening your mails and going through your rejections and some callbacks, jotting them down…
the door to alice’s room opened.
you looked up from the computer at her. mascara stained her cheeks, but she had the most devilish smile, causing you to scrunch your brows.
 alice was plotting something. you smiled at her before bolting. shutting your laptop and rushing to your room.
┈୨♡୧┈
you started saying yes to alice whenever she asked you to join her and the band. choosing to ignore the sly smirk she gave you each time.
but you could not help it, you enjoyed being around the bassist. even though she seemed a bit nervous around you. but you found it endearing, plus, at the end of the night you would get to smoke with ellie. 
even the silences were comfortable around her. 
sometimes, you would tell ellie about your day, rant about work. she would listen and give you hums of empathy for your woes.
you were left alone with her most of the time.
the other four coupled up and went their own ways.
they started singing more original stuff, not just covers.
you started seeing alice less and less whenever ellie was present. and you knew it was deliberate. 
if only ellie wasn’t so afraid of you, or nervous around you.
but you liked it, the silence. liked ellie.
┈୨♡୧┈
your eyes were heavy, you could feel yourself on the edge of unconsciousness. 
it was late, your earliest class had been canceled. so you scrolled mindlessly on your phone.
your thumb swiped up again and again.
until…
you blinked hard. was that?
it was ellie, she was singing, strumming her guitar. the post was tagged original song.
i am a moth
who just wants to share your light
im just an insect
trying to get out of the night
i only stick with you
because there are no others
you are all I need
you're all I need
her voice was soft and beautiful.
she looked so concentrated. 
you felt your heartache.
was this song about you? you laughed at yourself. how presumptuous. you were delusional.
she did not even talk to you. you thought it was because she was nervous.
maybe she just did not like you. 
maybe she was stuck with you, while she yearned for someone else.
the video had more than half a million likes.
thousands of comments asking about who it was. ellie had pinned one comment “me when sapphic yearning, she loves me guys (she doesn’t even think twice about me)”
you furrowed your brows. clicking onto her profile.
she had four videos up. one was a cover of a jeff buckley song.
the other was a cover of the song “well i wonder” by the smiths.
and a third was a short one of her talking about the band she was in and the next venues where they would play.
a lot of the comments were asking for more original work.
all three posts were insanely popular.
all posted in the past two weeks.
your heart pounded with ache, jealousy, and something else. something ugly.
┈୨♡୧┈
ellie couldn’t help but wonder if she had made the right choice. sharing her music.
she had gotten mostly positive comments, a lot of likes and shares.
she had been writing more and more lyrics. the rest of the band teased her a bit, but they liked her songs more than the stuff that theo, the lead singer had written.
he joked about losing his place in the band.
but ellie had reassured him that she would die before singing in public. and that her thing was still the bass. 
they were all looking forward to the weekend.
all of ellies posts have gone viral. the most popular was her original song. but the one she had posted about the band had 20k likes. so they were looking forward to playing.
it was almost friday, and the whole week the band had been practicing extra just in case.
the whole time her nerves were wrecked, had you seen the video and realized what she felt for you?
┈୨♡୧┈
you desperately needed a smoke. the venue was full, it wasn’t cramped, but there were more people than usual.
you tried to stay, and you did, you lasted a while. a lot of people had left, but a few people were waiting to meet ellie. you overheard some girls talking about her, and how they wanted to be ellie’s comfort and make her feel better, and you felt the walls close.
the set was almost over, so you saw no harm in walking out for a smoke. so that’s what you did.
┈୨♡୧┈
ellie noticed the exact moment you left. her chest felt tight. had she made you feel uncomfortable with the lovesick songs?
she wanted to out after you. but there had been a small group of girls that had come from the post.
so she made small talk, even though she didn’t want to. she needed to build a good relationship with people who interacted with her music if she ever wanted a career as a musician.
as soon as that was done, everyone wanted to go home.
so she barely got to interact with you. not that she did interact.
she just like sharing a smoke with you. just breathing in the same air.
┈୨♡୧┈
it was late, more specifically early.
weeks later and ellie and the band had become an indie sensation.
there had been an after party, you assumed it was not the first. but it had been the first you had gone too.
you had monday off. so you could take sunday and monday to recover.
it was saturday now. it was six am and the party wasn’t over. it had just moved. 
at three am you and the rest of the group left the party to go to a pizza place that was open 24 hours during the weekends.
you could barely keep your eyes open. but it was the first time you had seen ellie in weeks.
at four thirty the party moved to the top floor apartment the band shared. it was spacious, payed for by theo’s rich parents.
you started feeling uncomfortable. because this was turning into a sleepover. 
you were there with alice, and she was with theo in his room.
the keys and the drums were in their room, and you were on the balcony. leaning on the railing.
you felt anxiety grow in your chest. you felt like an intruder.
the door to the balcony opened, and you thought it was alice. she had told you she was going to check on you.
“i wanna leave, i don’t feel like i’m wanted here…” your voice trailed off as you turned towards the door. “oh. i’m sorry i thought you were alice.” you forced a chuckle.
“why do you feel unwanted here?” ellie furrowed her eyebrows.
“oh, i don’t know… because we are always left alone, and you won’t talk to me, so i think you don’t like me, and i just- you know what? i’m sorry, i’m just tired, i’m calling a cab.”
you moved to leave, brushing past her. you were yanked back softly by her fingers wrapping around your wrist.
“i don’t want you to leave.”
you rolled your lips. you were too tired for this shit.
“but you won’t talk to me.”
“i had smoked a bit in high cool, i don’t really like smoking. i don’t like drinking either. but, i don’t know- i guess i thought that the only way to be around you was under the pretense of a cigarette.”
your inhale was sharp, your heart raced. “who are the songs about ellie?”
she smiled sadly, meeting your eyes. the whole conversation, her eyes had been wandering around you. but her eyes shifted to meet yours. you felt tension thick around the two of you.
“i think you know.” ellie murmured.
you took a chance then. placing a hand on her hip, and the other on her nape. 
you watched as she closed her eyes, her breath shaking and a soft smile pulling at her lips.
your lips met softly, her arms were quick to pull you closer, chests flushed against each other.
i guess this would turn out into a sleepover after all.
┈୨♡୧┈
rebolgs and comments always appreciated 🫶🏻
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polakina · 9 months
Text
intensified senses
pairing: miguel o'hara x reader
rating: explicit
outline: being highly recommended by his lieutenants, miguel decided to recruit you into the spider society. wary of you at first, he kept a distance. but you were persistent on getting through the cracks of his stony exterior
warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, miguel being a sarcastic bitch, pining, flirting, masturbation (male), blindfolding, sensory deprivation, blowjobs, unprotected sex, riding
requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3
masterlist
II
He watched you from afar at first. Crouched from a high tower, dressed in inconspicuous clothing and hiding in plain sight. You came highly recommended. Jess and Ben spoke rather fondly of you, of your loyalty, bravery. You took care of your neighbourhood, of your city. And you were damn fucking good at it.
Miguel didn’t see it. He looked at you with a rather cold stare as you perched from a rooftop, your headpiece laid beside you as you looked out towards the streets. You crouched there with a bagel in one hand, iced coffee in the other. Your suit was all yellow, like the sun. The spider on your chest a deep orange. The sunset made it shine brightly. A pretty amber in the light. Miguel just sort of scowled at you. 
“What do you think, O’Hara?” Jess came through on his earpiece, crackly, but clear enough to understand.
“She’s…you think that she could join the society?” He asked incredulously. “She’s a kid!”
“She’s actually similar in age to you, just with a better skin care routine,” he heard her chuckle lightly.
“That’s funny,” he responded coolly. Sarcastically. As he usually did. But he trusted Ben and Jess’ judgement, and to be fair, he was trying to expand the spider society further. So perhaps you would be an ample addition, in his eyes.
-
You knew someone had been watching you for a while. You felt eyes on the back of your head. For what reason, you weren’t sure, but they didn’t pose a threatening feel. So you let them be.
It wasn’t until you felt their presence behind you that you felt that something needed to be done about it. You heard his footsteps quite a fair distance behind you, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up straight. He was big. Very big. Putting your headpiece back on, you stood up straight and kept looking ahead of you. It was only when you felt him get a little closer that you sent your webs in his direction. You heard him grunt as he was webbed to the rooftop door, stuck in place. 
That’s when you turned around to face him. Glad that your face was covered, he wasn’t able to see the look of surprise on your face. The way your eyebrows raised or your mouth fell slightly open. Goddamn. He wasn’t exactly what you had expected to be following you all these weeks.
Dark curly hair. Reddish eyes. A waistline that would put any model to shame. The man was built like a brick wall, but with a face carved from a God or something. You blinked back into focus, not letting him distract you right now.
“Who are you?” You asked, trying to conjure a sort of authoritative voice to not seem so young. Or small. Which you were in comparison right now.
“That isn’t important right now,” he said, struggling against your webbing. “I need you to come with me. I’m recruiting you. That’s the reason I’ve come to find you. Not so we can chitchat and braid eachother’s hair.”
You laughed a little. Miguel ignored how his heart leapt a little at how pretty it sounded. “Wow you’re really good with your people skills. Has anyone ever told you that?” You walked a little closer to him, still hesitant. “Unless you tell me exactly who you are, and exactly what you’re doing in my city, I’m not going anywhere. And by the time that webbing’s structure decomposes enough for you to break free, you won’t find me again.”
He just sighed at you, rolling his eyes out of impatience. “Okay, I’m over this.” talons protruded from his hands in replacement for his fingers, and he sliced through your webbing. Shit, you put so much effort into that webbing too. He sauntered towards you, hips swaying as he looked down at you with a deeply disinterested glare. You backed up until your legs hit the edge of the rooftop, pinning you between him and the ground below. You could have just jumped. Leaned back until you fell from the roof and swung through the streets, far away from him. But you couldn’t. It was like you were frozen in place. “You’re coming with me. One way or another.”
You stepped up onto the ledge, almost as tall as he was now. “As much as I’d love to come back to what I assume is a cute little lair, I’m going to have to pass.” You fell backwards off the ledge and watched his eyes widen as he went to reach for you, but he wasn’t quick enough. Clearly his spidey senses weren’t kicking in today.
You fell, looking towards the ground as it got closer and closer to you. 
But you never did reach it.
It was a blur, a flash of coloured lights blinded you for a few moments. There was a pressure on the back of your neck, as though someone had grabbed you harshly, penetrating skin from the pain it inflicted.
Instead your body collided with a solid stone floor. Hard. you felt somethin crunch as your body hit the ground, sending shooting pains through your entire arm. Blinking your eyes a few times, you adjusted to the bright fluorescent lighting around you. Screens were put up on every wall, a large computer sat atop a much larger desk was raised above you.
“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing yourself off the ground. Turning slowly in a circle, you tried to gauge where you were, until you came face to face with him again. “You! Where the fuck have you brought me?” You started swinging at him. You don’t really know why. It was a defense mechanism, you guessed? But you swung at him nonetheless. Pointless as it was, it made you feel better.
He just huffed and shook his head, batting away your hands and feet as they came at him, as though they weren’t even hurting him. It wasn’t until he grabbed your wrist which you injured, feeling the dislocation in the bone. You hissed in pain, trying to pull away, to no avail. He said nothing, just snapping it back into place and your cry echoed throughout the room. 
“Asshole!” You cried out, turning away.
“You’re welcome.”
“I wouldn’t have even been hurt if you hadn’t have kidnapped me!”
“I told you I was recruiting you for something.” His voice was so plain, so boring, so calm. Not a smidge of emotion or humanity in it.
“You could have asked nicely! Maybe explained the situation before…teleporting me to your shitty office,” you breathed heavily.
“You didn’t give me a chance. This was the only way.” He turned towards the desk, making his way up to it. You followed, rolling your wrist to alleviate the pain. 
“So why am I here? And who exactly are you?” You walked to the desk, taking a seat in the chair and spinning in it until his face became blurry. You came to a sudden stop when his hands fell hard onto the arm rests, his face inexplicably close to yours. You held your breath as he scowled down at you.
“Get. Off. My. Chair.”
“Who. Are. You.”
He rolled his eyes. But it wasn’t he who answered your question. It was a woman. “Miguel, you’re back! And you brought company. So this is the Lemon Spider? I expected something…different.”
“Lemon Spider? That is not my name,” you chuckled, looking over to see a blonde woman on the screens.
“Well, LYLA is my name. And Lemon Spider suits you, so Lemon Spider is your name.” She smiled, her grin was big and bright.
“And you’re Miguel? I’m glad someone finally told me.”
Eventually Miguel explained why he’d brought you to him. The Spider Society. Hundreds of spiders from hundreds of different alternate realities protecting the canon events and ensuring nothing disrupted them. His lieutenants had recommended you after close observation of how you handled situations within your own universe. You were small but quick, good at getting in and out of places that others couldn’t fit. You had heart. You never acted out of anger, or revenge. Only when someone needed you, needed your help.
It was a noble cause. One that, of course, you would have signed up for yourself if Miguel hadn’t first brought you here against your will. The man really needed to work on his people skills.
-
Months later, you had worked your way up the ranks. A valued member of the society. Even Miguel was impressed. Not that he ever showed it. You’d even met some other spiders. Pav and Hobie being the ones you were closest with whenever you got a chance to see them.
But Miguel was always the one you wanted to see the most, but you tried to keep that your own little secret.
“So…how ya been?” You asked, spinning on the desk chair once again as he leaned over the desk beside you. He rolled his eyes once again, but his mean demeanour had slightly softened with you around over time. Even LYLA had noticed it, once asking him if he did in fact begin to soften towards you. She earned a low growl in response and never spoke of it again. 
“Busy.”
“As always,” you huffed, looking at the same thing he was, a screen with a lot of maps and circles and colours…you understood none of it.
“Shouldn’t you be working? Doing spidey stuff?” He asked, looking over at you, his eyes softening at the way you looked up at him. He brushed it off quickly though.
“My canon events are safe,” you assured. “Besides, I’ll be notified if anything canon related or otherwise is affected or in jeopardy. So until that happens, I have a clear schedule.”
He just looked away, scanning activity on the screen. “Well, that’s great,” he mumbled under his breath, sarcasm lacing his tone.
“Come on, I’m great company,” you smiled up at him.
“Uh huh.”
You sighed, leaning back in the chair, putting your feet up on the desk. “Well, you’d prefer me over Hobie, at least.”
He grunted, pushing himself off the desk and turning towards you. Grabbing both your ankles, he yanked them off the desk, pulling you closer to him, your legs either side of his body as the wheely chair rolled swiftly towards him. “Look, as much as I love the cute little attitude you seem to have,” he leaned closer towards you, his cologne filling your senses. “I have work to do. And you’re a distraction. So either be quiet, or go elsewhere, okay?”
Words escaped you. And Miguel realised exactly what he’d just said. He also realised he’d essentially caged his body between your thighs. You gazed up at him, he noted a little surprise in your eyes, as well as something else. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. Letting go of your ankles, he stepped away. You stood from your chair.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be a distraction now, would I, O’Hara?” You asked, a little smirk playing at your lips. You patted his chest and walked away.
He hated that he watched you leave, completely ensnared by you as you left the room. 
-
You stayed at the base that night, knowing that Miguel had his room set up there, a few doors down from the meeting room. You planned to go back to your own dimension, but it was quite boring back there right now. So you hung out in the meeting room, suspended upside down from the ceiling. Tracking the activity of your own city, you were met with absolutely fuck all. No activity. No spikes in crime or anything altered on your own timeline.
Sighing, you dropped down to the floor, preparing to go back to your own timeline. You would have said goodbye to Miguel, but you weren’t exactly sure he wanted to talk to you right now.
Just as you were about to leave, you heard something. Your ears perked and the hairs on your arms stood up. It was coming from Miguel’s room. You shouldn’t have inspected, it wasn’t your place. But your feet took you there anyway. Outside his door, you pressed your ear up against it, listening intently. At first you thought he was communicating with someone. LYLA, perhaps. Until you heard something else. Groaning? Grunting, maybe. But then you heard moaning. And he was saying something. Your name. Your hand covered your mouth so that he wouldn’t hear you. But he sure as hell would have sensed your presence. Wouldn’t he?
You stepped back, knocking into the wall behind you. His noises halted almost immediately. Hearing his footsteps approach the door, you backed away quickly, but he opened the door before you were completely out of sight. His pupils were blown wide, his shirt discarded and his chest glistening slightly with sweat.
“I thought you’d left,” he said, his voice low, gruff.
“I stuck around, kept an eye on the screens for a little while,” you admitted. It wasn’t a lie, for the most part. “Thought you would have heard me, or known I was still here.”
He cocked his head in confusion. 
“Spidey senses? I always know when someone’s around,” you smiled. But he shook his head in disagreement.
“I don’t have those. Wasn’t bitten by a spider, you see,” he revealed, and your eyebrow quirked. “How long have you been stood out here?”
Your heart dropped. “Um…not long. Was just about to leave anyway, so you get back to…whatever it is you were doing. I’ll see you around, O’Hara.”
You turned to leave until his voice stopped you. “Or you could…stay?” You didn’t turn around at first, but you felt him come up behind you. Close. Very fucking close. His heat radiated onto your back. “I’ve been cold towards you, I know that. I haven’t meant to be.”
“So why have you been?” You spun on your heel, almost stumbling as you came into contact with his bare chest. But his hand on your waist caught you.
“If I let myself enjoy your company as much as I do, I’ll become distracted from my life’s work,” he let his head drop.
Confidence suddenly overtook you and you placed a hand on his cheek, tilting his head back up to look at you. “Sometimes a distraction is what you need to be able to do your job.”
He chuckled. The first time you’d ever seen him do that. “You saying I do my job wrong?”
“I said sometimes, O’Hara,” you smiled. “But maybe a distraction is what you need right now.” Taking his hand, you led him back to his room. You expected him to pull away, but he didn’t, he followed. Miguel shut the door behind him and your eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, the only light source coming from his desk light. His hands found your waist from behind you, his breath on your neck.
“A distraction sounds pretty good right about now,” he purred in your ear, kissing your neck softly. You melted into his touch, your legs becoming a puddle. He kissed down your neck to your shoulder and you turned your head, letting your lips meet his in a gentle kiss. 
This was the gentlest you’d ever seen him. Usually his walls were up, and he was cold and distant from everyone. But here…here he was entirely exposed. To you. You walked him slowly to the couch in the corner of the room, the backs of his knees hitting it before he sat down, his hands pulling you closer.
“You said you don’t have spidey senses, right?” You asked, standing before him. He looked up at you expectantly. 
“What are you getting at here, princesa?”
“Just something I want to try.” You pulled the thick ribbon from your hair that tied it up in a bun whenever you were out of your suit. Your hair fell down to your shoulders, falling in front of your face.
“Oh, we’re trying things? So early on?” He joked, a small smile in his voice.
“Oh shush, I think you’ll like it,” you held the ribbon in front of him and he realised what you wanted to do. He nodded, his trust put in you. Covering his eyes, you tied it around the back of his head. “Just have a little faith.”
“In you, I do.”
You knelt before him, so thankful he was just in sweatpants. You weren’t very good at handling belts. Wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants, you felt him tense up lightly. “Easy, O’Hara. Just relax, okay?”
You looked up to see him nod. Smiling, you continued, pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles. He’d opted to go commando under those pants, and you stifled a gasp at what awaited you beneath the fabric. 
Shit. you knew he was a big guy…but you didn’t expect him to be that big of a guy. Miguel’s cock sprang out of its confinement, hard, long and thick. For a moment you worried yourself that you wouldn’t be able to take all of him. Or even…most of him. But you were too pent up and needy for him that you pushed past it.
Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, Miguel shuddered at your touch. He didn’t want to admit it, but it had been a while for him. Having only his own hand to work with, he couldn’t fathom how good it felt to be your hand instead.
But fuck, the second he felt your mouth envelope his dick, he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his throat. You loved it, the raw feeling behind his groaning and whimpering. Taking him further in your mouth, you sucked slowly, deeply, your tongue circling the tip so his legs tightened under your hand where it laid, resting on his thigh.
You felt his hand travel to your head, fingers entangling in your hair and gripping it with a firm hold. He didn’t push, he just held you there. The more of him you took, the tighter his grip got. His panting and moaning was like music to your ears.
“Shit…shit…” he breathed, raising his hips up off the couch, his dick pushing deeper down your throat. He was about to come, on the verge of it, you could feel it. His head fell back against the top of the couch, his teeth gritted against each other as he felt the precipice of his orgasm fast approaching. “Wait, wait, wait.” He spoke quickly, racing through his words.
You did stop. Pulling away and looking up at him. “Are you okay?” You asked, worried you’d gone too far, too fast.
“I’m fine,” he panted, head tipped towards the ceiling. “But…” Miguel pulled down his blindfold so it hung loosely around his neck. He gazed at you, his eyes coated in a thin sheen, glossed over. “I’m not gonna be the only one who gets to feel this good though.” He pulled you up and onto his lap. You felt his dick twitch beneath you as your face was ever so close to his, inches away from one another. “So now it’s your turn, princesa.”
Miguel smirked, his hand sliding down the front of your pants, gliding under your panties and came into contact with your bare skin. Your breath shortened as his fingers drifted down to your pussy, already soaked from the moments previously, and he smirked at the wetness he felt there. “Already this wet, hmm? Guess it’s not going to take long for you to be able to take me, huh?” He was so smug. So confident. In any other instance you’d find it annoying, but right now you couldn’t have found it more attractive. All you could muster up was a quiet, desperate please.
He smiled, pushing a finger deep inside you and pulling a soft moan from you. God, he could listen to that on repeat for the rest of his life. Moving his finger in and out at a quickened pace, curving his fingertip to hit that sweet spot you could never reach yourself, he felt you clench around him, your eyes begging for more when your mouth couldn’t form the words. He happily obliged, adding a second finger. The palm of his hand grinding against your clit with the added pressure of his fingers fucking you was driving you to the edge quicker than you thought possible. 
He knew it too. Your eyes rolling back, your hips shifting to rock with the rhythm of his fingers inside you. You were close. 
“You want to come, angelita?” He asked, his words dripping with want, with need. For you. He watched you nod frantically. But he slowed his fingers, his other hand gripping your jaw gently, but firmly. “On my fingers, or on my cock, hmm?” He saw the way your eyes lit up at that proposal. “Oh, honey. I think I already know what you want.”
He didn’t even try and take off your pants, he tore right through them instead, his talons scraping against your skin, but never breaking your skin. Throwing your torn clothes across the room, he lifted you up so you hovered above him. Miguel grabbed his cock by the base, running it along your pussy, soaking the tip with your wetness. 
Words escaped you and your mind went numb when he first pushed his cock into you. At first it felt overwhelming, the size of him frying your senses and fogging your head. Only at about half way in, Miguel started to feel resistance, and the look of shock and the overwhelmed tint in your eyes showed him why. “Just relax, conejita. You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, one hand on your thigh and the wrapped around your back.
His praise and encouragement cleared your clouded thoughts. You nodded, taking your time and sinking lower and lower until you reached the base. Letting out a deep breath, you gave yourself a few moments to adjust. Miguel smiled up at you. “Atta girl,” he mumbled, a smirk on his lips. He shifted his hips, rising up into you, purposefully grinding his dick up into your soaking pussy. Fuck, he loved the way you bit your lip to stifle your noises as to not make too much noise. Not that anyone else was here anyway. He wanted to hear you. 
You started rocking back and forth on his dick, the tip hitting something devastatingly sweet every time and it sent shockwaves through your entire body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nails scratching into his back, digging crescent shaped indents into his skin as you rolled your hips quicker and quicker. Miguel’s hands both found their way to your hips, guiding your movements and controlling your speed. His head dipped down as he kissed your neck, taking your skin between his teeth and biting gently, sucking deep marks into your neck. 
His lips trailed down, passing your collar bones, down your sternum to your breasts. His tongue circled your perked nipple before he sucked identical purple marks into your breasts, kissing along to the other breast as he did, giving the same treatment to both. 
Mumbles and whimpers fell from your lips, flooding the room with your desperation for Miguel’s touch, for Miguel’s praises, for Miguel’s hands all over you. His fingers dug tighter into your hips, grinding you against him hard, his cock reaching the perfect places inside you to make you squirm, to make you cry out his name. 
“You gonna come for me, princesa? Hmm?” He asked, a smidge of cockiness in his tone. He was good. And he knew he was good. You couldn’t deny it, not knowing that even though you were already so overwhelmed by the size of him, mixtures of pleasure and pain that balanced one another out perfectly, you couldn’t deny that you weren’t already craving more of him. 
But the second he started raising his hips to meet yours, you lost it. Your head fell against his shoulder, and his lips attacked your neck, pressing soft kisses there, biting gently. His hand drifted between your bodies, putting pressure against your clit with his thumb. That’s when your body began to unravel, your senses skyrocketed. You gripped the back of his neck so tightly as you felt your orgasm growing closer, your thighs shaking and your movements started to falter in both speed and momentum. 
Miguel sensed it it too, his hands on your hips becoming the sole thing after a point, that kept you grinding on his cock. He was close too. But he held out with all of his focus. Wanting you to come for him first. Needing you to. “Come on, honey,” he purred in your ear, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Be a good girl and come for me.”
You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You let out a small cry, Miguel’s name playing on your tongue. Your orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t gentle either, like it usually was whenever you touched yourself. This was powerful. This was like a tsunami. It tore through you, electrifying your veins and causing you to clench hard. Your thighs caged him, closing tighter around his body as you clung to him. You bit into Miguel’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, but it didn’t stop him from fucking up into you. He didn’t stop. Not until your orgasm had finally satisfied the both of you. Your body collapsed against him, your chest heaving as you tried to regain all of your breath, filling your lungs to their capacity.
“You okay, conejita?” He asked, raking his fingers up and down your spine, kissing the side of your head. He chuckled lightly as you just nodded, a quiet groan all you could muster up at an attempt for words.
You lifted your head, leaning back to look at him. A gasp escaped your throat as he shifted beneath you once more, his cock twitching. “You didn’t…” Your words trailed off as you looked fown for a split second.
Miguel shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?” You asked, a mixture of curiosity and a little embarrassment lacing your tone. 
He smiled, leaning back, running his hands up and down your thighs. “You think I can only last one round, honey? I’m offended,” he laughed jokingly. Your eeys widened a little, and you were slightly concerned you wouldn’t be able to handle more right now. Not if it was as good as that. “Don’t look so afraid, baby,” he whispered, lifting you and your legs wrapped around his waist. He carried you to the bed on the other side of the room, laying your down gently, your head settling comfortably into the pillows as he climbed on top of you, his body between your thighs. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
You huffed a soft laugh. “Miguel, I don’t think you know the meaning of gentle.”
He matched your soft laugh with one of his own. Rolling his eyes, he leaned even closer to you, your lips almost touching. “I’ll try to be gentle. At first.” His eyes darkened in the dimmed room and your heart beat just a little faster. “But don’t think it’ll take me more than five minutes to fuck you into this bed until all you can do is scream my name.”
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dawns-beauty · 2 months
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Okay, to counteract all my complaining, here are some (lore friendly) mods that I just like a lot (no animals, people, weapons/armors, mesh/texture replacers, etc. because there's too many and it gets boring.)
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Ghosts of the Deathbells: adds a really rare, somber event to picking a deathbell flower.
Falmeroon: adds Snow Elf ruins to some remote edges of the map. I've made an unofficial SE port here.
Snow Whale Bones: adds the remains of Snow Whales in some mountainous areas (iffy canon but sorry they are Cool.)
Windmills of Skyrim: adds windmills with unique, custom-painted sails to farms.
Scarecrows of Skyrim: adds scarecrows to farms.
Scribes of Skyrim: makes books and notes use a variety of typefaces (any fellow Pentiment fans out there?)
The Old Ways-Nordic Religion: adds totems representing the Nordic pantheon around Skyrim. Has patches for the next recommendation.
The Great Towns/Villages series: overhauls the smaller, worldspace towns in a really cool way, includes voice-acted NPCs. Personally, I like Kynesgrove the best because it actually adds to the lore about the Nordic pantheon. For Shor's Stone, I recommend this mod as well.
Redbag's Rorikstead: I like this mod over Great Village's version because the houses have sod roofs and I'm a sucker for sod roofs.
Capital Windhelm Expansion: adds some really thoughtful lore touches (Dunmer refugees outside the walls, an Arena, and a cool vampire quest)
Relic of Dawnstar: adds a Gehenoth skull to the White Hall (requires Cities of the North), inspired by the lore of the Travels game
Environs series: thoughtful additions that makes certain places change over time.
WiZKid's mods: especially Lund's Hut, Lively Farms, Icy Windhelm, Pinewatch, Hall of the Dead Stained Glass Windows, and Pavo's House. Sepolcri is also pretty good but loses immersion points for using celtic cross gravestones. You can pry Lanterns of Skyrim II from my cold, dead hands, though. Lux? Idk her, LoSII is my bestie.
Fancy Sleeping Tree Replacer: the Sleeping Tree is supposed to be a remnant of the sentient trees of the flying city of Umbriel (from the novels.) It should be weird, is what I'm saying, and this mod makes it alien and beautiful.
Unique Culture Riverwood: a mod that gives Riverwood its own style of farmhouse and a little more personality. The author has also made a mod for Falkreath.
Immersive World Encounters: adds more and edits World Encounters, including encountering faction NPCs out and about (ex. the Companions outside of Whiterun doing Companion-y things in the wilderness).
Glorious Doors of Skyrim: adds some really cool doors. 'nuff said.
Redbag's Dragonreach: adds some unique flair to Jarl Ballin's crib.
Cultured Orc Furniture: replaces generic furniture in Orc Strongholds with custom furniture.
Lavinia's Memorial: adds some gifts from her grieving parents to the little girl's grave in Falkreath. Ouch.
Nocturnal Moths: adds moths that spawn around lanterns at night.
Moons and Stars: fixes the positions of the stars and moons, as well as making moon phases consistent.
DK's Realistic Nord Ships: replaces Skyrim's ships with some gorgeous new models.
Morgenstern's Mushroom Circles: adds more fairy rings in the wilderness. Delightful!
Bloodmoon Brodir Grove: makes the grove in Solstheim a little more like it was in the Morrowind DLC. The mod author also has more mods that bring Bloodmoon details and locations to Solstheim.
Ships of the Horizon: does what it says on the tin.
EVG Animation Variance: the whole animation series by Everglaid is nice (haven't tried Traversal yet, but that is some incredible technology) but I especially like this one for the old people animations
jasperthegnome's houses: these are SO cozy and comfy.
Arctic- Frost Effects Redux: makes frost spells have cooler effects (including 3D ice spikes)
Northern Roads- Let Me Guess Someone Stole Your Sweetroads: a plugin that cuts down on Northern Roads, removing all the landscape changes and bridges and just keeping the clutter. Way more compatible than the original mod.
Skyrim Bridges: this is my favorite bridge mod. There are many, but I like this one best.
Edit: forgot two tiny mods in my original post:
Nightcaller Temple Unique Shrine of Mara: replaces the generic shrine with a wooden shrine Erandur carved
Broken Tower Redoubt Unique Shrine of Dibella: similar to the above mod, but Reachmen carved this one.
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the-travelling-witch · 4 months
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summary: a pouty demon has become part of your nighttime routine
pairing: mammon x gn!reader
warnings: fluff with mentions of insecurities (skin/appearance related)
obey me! masterlist
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“Babe, how much longer are ya goin’ to take?” Mammon whined from behind you, his pout reflecting in the large bathroom mirror.
“I’ve only just finished with cleansing.” Turning off the faucet, you gently dabbed a towel over your face, watching the demon with affectionate eyes. “But everything else shouldn’t take too long.”
“Why d’ya have to do all of this anyway?” Apparently not content with your answer, he stepped closer to you and cut himself off with a yawn. “Just come to bed.”
You’d think that, as a model, Mammon would understand the importance of skincare but, to your annoyance, he was one of those guys who seemingly splashed their face with water and still had the perfect complexion.
Could demons also be god’s favourites? One glance over his shirtless form definitely swayed your answer towards ‘yes’.
“No, this is important. Especially if you keep sitting me down for a bowl of spicy late-night ramen,” you sighed. By now, Mammon had closed the gap between the two of you, his arms comfortably circled around your waist and his cheek squished against the top of your head. “Besides, I finally want to be free of these blemishes and look good too.”
Immediately, Mammon stood straight and held you a little tighter. The angelic eyes looking at you through the mirror were earnest and genuine as he spoke with a bewildered tone, almost as if what you had said never occurred to him.
“But yer already so pretty! How could ya get any more stunnin’ than this?”
That was what you loved about him. Despite his usually tsundere behaviour, he never failed to compliment you with his entire heart behind it. Having someone so sincerely tell you you were beautiful, while you wore an old shirt of his as pyjama, had no makeup on and had your insecurities out in the open like this, it made you start believing it too.
A thought that was kinda terrifying.
But you had no time to go teary-eyed or worry about whether you were starting to become too conceited or delusional. Not with this demon around. Before you could say something, Mammon had already swooped down, snowy hair obscuring part of your vision, and planted a sweet kiss onto your cheek. Both the surprise of his action and the visual of his face scrunched up in disgust as he tasted the toner on his lips made you laugh, shushing the voices in your head.
“That one’s on you, I already told you not to do that when I’m doing my routine,” you giggled. Then, you twisted in his hold and returned an equally affectionate kiss to his cheek. “Thank you so much though. Hearing that means a lot.”
“Don’t look at me like that! Just hurry up, so we can go to bed!” Though he averted his eyes, you could still feel the heat radiating off his face and you suppressed another laugh. He really was too cute for his own good.
Even though he’d complained a lot about the lengthiness of your little ritual, he still attentively watched you work, offering his concerns about the colour of a hot pink serum (“Should ya really be puttin’ that on yer face?”) and having his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you casually mentioned one of your creams could bleach clothes or hair.
“Well, good thing your hair is already white and you’re already shirtless,” you joked as you finished putting on your moisturiser before turning and looping your arms around his neck. “Because I plan to cuddle you all-night long.”
“Ya’d better! Yer the only human who’d ever make me, the Avatar of Greed, wait, ya know,” Mammon huffed. Contradictory to his words, he had already swooped you up princess-style and set off towards the bedroom.
“Mhm and I am so glad you were generous enough to give me so much of your time. Maybe this,” you put a hand over his heart as he gently lowered you onto the mattress, “is made out of gold after all.”
“Now yer just bein’ cheesy,” Mammon snorted as he crawled under the black sheets with you and pulled you close, the same way a tide would always reach for the shore again and again. “Ya should get some rest before ya say somethin’ even more stupid.”
“But I was just about to confess to the best thing that ever happened to me,” you hummed. When he sceptically raised an eyebrow, you looked him deep in the eyes and smiled. “I love you, Mammon.”
For a fraction of a second his eyes widened in shock before he shut them tightly as he inhaled. When he opened them again, he mirrored your fond smile as a slender finger traced the side of your face.
“I love ya too, treasure.”
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