#I feel so bad for people who have to buy men’s shoes
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I am BEGGING companies to start making things in fun colors again.
Shoes. Cars. ELECTRONICS.
You used to be able to get a Chevy Spark in banana yellow or lavender or pink. Uggs used to come in the most garish colors imaginable!
I’m so tired of sepia tones and black and white and dull metallics.
Let. Adults. Have. Fun!!!
#I feel so bad for people who have to buy men’s shoes#they really do yall dirty with the boring ass colors :(#bring back color block#and jewel tones#bright mica fleck primary colored cars#you used to be able to get gaming systems that were colorful AND you could see their guts#80s thru Y2K had it right
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
cw: piv sex at the end, sylus is a bit rough hehe
sylus who (surprisingly to most people) is the most respectful out of the l&ds men.
sylus who holds every car door for you, leaves you a different array of flowers every week, makes sure you never use your own card, and opens every door for you. he has his large, scarred hand on your lower back at all times so he can assure you're by his side.
"focus on staying with me, sweetie. i don't want you getting lost somewhere you're not familiar with"
"sylus, i can handle myself!"
"i know you can. but as your man, i can't have you doing all the work alone, can i?"
sylus who loves teasing you. when you two are sitting anywhere near each other, he'll have his hand on your thigh. if he's sure that no one can see his girl, he'll trail his hand dangerously close to your crotch, grazing the top of your pussy, even dipping down a bit to give a small feather touch to your clit before returning back to the place above your thigh.
sylus who buys you any item you lay your eyes on. a new weapon, a new purse, new shoes, new clothes, they'll be at your doorstep in no time. after a while, you stopped telling him things you like since you started feeling guilty for spending so much.
he wouldn't have any of that. he sent luke and kieran to spy on you, finding out your password in only a day. he wasn't going to snoop through your messages, no. he had the utmost faith in you. instead, he would go through every shopping app you had and every website store you visited, clearing out every cart so it'd be empty and even spending extra on express shipping so it'd arrive as soon as possible.
sylus who tries to stay as respectful as possible when he finds that you've been shopping for adult toys. he knows you'd never buy it but he loves the sheer look on your face when he hands you the box.
"sy.. what is this?", your face goes ghostly pale as you recognize the logo on the box
"oh? trying to play innocent?"
sylus who's respect is forced out the window as he has you bent over his lap, fucking you with the dildo you'd personally shopped for.
"sy-sylus, please, i want your c-cock!", you cry out before he abruptly pulls the dildo from your pussy, leaving the tip in to tease you as he subtly shifts it in and out.
“oh? you want my cock? thought you wanted to play with some measly toys, sweetie”
“n-no, sylus,” you sobbed from the lack of stimulation, “‘need you so bad..”
“how bad?”, sylus smirked and you could swear that you could feel it burning in the back of your brain.
“really bad, sy. i need you in my pussy—“
you couldn’t even finish your thoughts before you were manhandled onto the bed. your ass was thrown up before he landed a sharp spank with his gloved hand.
“you wanna be fucked with this cock, baby?”, sylus grunted before the sound of a zipper could be heard.
“yes, please, sylus!”
“fuck.. take it—take it”.
sylus thrusted his erect cock roughly into your pussy, holding you in place as you squirmed from his girth.
“you trying to run away after i finally give you my dick?”
“n-no, sylus!”
“that’s not my name, sweetie”, sylus grinned before giving you another spank.
“please, please, fuck me with your cock, sir”
he groaned at the sound, grabbing your hips before he started ramming into you again.
sylus is respectful in every way. except for when he’s jealous of a dildo..
#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#lads x reader#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#l&ds#sylus x reader#sylus qin#sylus qin x reader#sylus smut#rina journal 📝#IM SORRY IF THIS IS OOC THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING HIM
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER
( head cannons / might turn into a series )
( master list )
more
Feel free to to request more scenarios with this au LOL
Notes: poly, reader is described as on the shorter side, age gap, daddy issues (reader has a bad father), inappropriate jokes/themes mentioned
YSL, red bottom shoes, sugary cocktails, leopard print, faux fur, y2k, mcbling, lana del rey, cigarettes, mob boss wife…
- When people join the mafia, they expect tough muscled men, maybe a few scarred women carelessly waving around guns. What they don’t expect is you
- You’re an interesting sight, perched on Price’s lap like a little trophy, freshly manicured nails tapping away at your phone screen as you play a game
- You don’t care about whatever meeting you’re in, you aren’t even listening to Price’s rather gory plans. You’re too busy deciding what to have for lunch
- Nobody can look away from your pretty pout as you discover your favourite drink is temporarily out of stock
- Price was the one who found you first. Your father was indebted to the mafia and what better way to force him to pay than taking his precious daughter? Price found it strange how you were so willing to leave your father but it made sense when you told him the truth
- Your father wasn’t a good man. He had blood on his hands and he never cared much about you or your mother. You were thankful to find a way out, even if it meant going with a strange (but equally handsome) man
- You belonged to Price first but his property was Simon, Kyle, and Jonny’s as well
- “Jonny, is this skirt too short?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.
Jonny glanced up from his phone, shrugging. “Nah. It’s all good, bonnie. I can fight. ‘Sides, shorter skirts makes it easier to bend ya over.”
- Simon loves sharing his cigarettes with you, especially when you kiss him and transfer the smoke into his mouth. The best part is seeing your lipstick stain the end of his cigarette
- Price buys you lots of clothes and accessories. You’re never not draped in the most expensive jewellery he can find. Gaz is the one buying you heels. For some reason, he has a knack for choosing the best shoes
- Seeing you waltz around in your short skirts, lace tops, and clicking high heels is enough of a reward for the four men
- The rookies love the sight of you but you’re forbidden fruit. You belonged to their bosses who did not like to share
- When there’s talk of a rat among the mafia, your four lovers do not take it kindly. They need someone to infiltrate whatever plot is brewing up. Luckily, they have you. Nobody in their right mind would pass a chance on being able to get a taste of your strawberry-flavored lipgloss
- “Oh my gosh, it’s giving office siren.” You say, excitedly tugging on the tight, short-sleeved blouse that Ghost is shaking his head at.
“It’s too short.” He mutters, “Ain’t there a ‘nother size?”
“It was the only one. Sorry, baby.” You sheepishly smiled at your lover’s displeasure. “Anyway, how do I look?”
Clad in that damn white blouse, a short pencil skirt, and thinly rimmed glasses, you were a vision.
“You look like you’re ’bout to get some action when ya get back.” Kyle says, nodding over at Soap who’s staring at you shamelessly.
“How ‘bout this, lovie?” Price steps forward, “If you do a good job, we’ll give you a little reward. Sound good, yeah?”
( please note that for the cod tag list, you will be tagged in all the cod fics i post, not just this one lol )
COD TAG LIST (COMMENT TO BE ADDED/REMOVED): @galactict3a
#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#soap cod x reader#soap cod#ghost cod#gaz cod#john price x reader#captain john price#john price#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#call of duty#cod x you#ghost cod x reader#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#cod au
992 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello!!!
Can I put in a writing request??
Because I love your writing!!! 🥹
Can you do (either human alastor.. or demon alastor i love both but human alastor has a chokehold on me haha) but his partner is plus size and they are very self conscious about it
Can be smut if you like (I'm waaaay okay with that)
omg yessss i’m gonna do human alastor because he does need some attention <3 also felt this personallyyyy so i did it sooo fast 🙈 ima chunky gorl myself and with summer approaching things always get tough. i lot of what i wrote here is my own personal experience and shit so i don’t want anyone to think this is something they should feel or notice or be ashamed of! Just so you know!
warnings: SMUT 18+, gender neutral but use of clit, feral alastor, Human!alastor, kinda ooc in the way he is ravenous for reader sexually, reader doesn’t know he’s a murderer, self loathing, self hate, body worship maybe, biting breifly, alastor kinda rich or whatever for the time, insecure reader, plus size reader, body part like stomach thighs highlighted, crying, husband alastor, comfort from Al. swearing, lmk if there’s anything else! NOT PROOFREAD YALL
also i wanted to use junoisded ‘s work (on IG) but i don’t think they like things reposted unless asked and i am way to shy but go check them out their human alastor is mouthhhhh watering gawd
Closing the door behind you, you sat your bag on the table a sullen look on your face. It was particularly difficult week for you, it was getting warmer in New Orleans and when it got warm what was really meant was hot humid gross. It almost felt embarrassing at times to leave the house, the clothes companies made weren’t anything like what other people wore they were hideous, and you sweat, and just felt kind of self conscious.
Especially with Alastor. His popularity grew expeditiously over the last couple of years, with people now being able to recognize his voice all around. His popularity was a gift and a curse, a gift because you didn’t have to work through the stock market issues whereas many people your age did, and a curse because more women and men alike wanted him.
You weren’t jealous because Alastor made it pretty clear he only had eyes for you, however you couldn’t stop the comparison, you usually felt decent about yourself and your looks and Alastor made you more assured in your beliefs. But as more people would recognize him, and he’d give them that charming smile, and they’d flirt, you’d get a little jealous and insecure.
You walked into yours and Alastors shared bedroom, slipping off your shoes and looking into the mirror. You wanted to buy some nice clothing for an event you and Alastor were attending within the week, it was very hush puppy as it served contraband, however you couldn’t find anything at the market, and the tailors would be just too much to ask of Alastor.
Your lip quivered not with sadness but frustration, you just wanted to be at the same level as everybody else, without the issues, and being constantly told how to eat or use your body or dress yourself. Sitting on the bed your thighs spread out around you, stomach resting atop. Tears kept flowing pitifully as you took a moment to wrap your head around your spiraling thoughts. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your arms around your back, begining to take off the clothes that stuck to your sweaty body.
‘Loose leisure clothes.’ You chanted as you shook your trousers to your ankles and opened the drawers to your dresser. You remembered as you caught sight of one of Alastors red suit jackets, a gentleman who had commented that Alastor was far too small to lend his jacket to you on a cold night, which make you feel so bad about yourself. Slamming the drawer closed you cradled your head, this wasn’t fair, you would be ten times better with yourself if people weren’t so casually cruel.
You were okay, you were loved, but it seemed in other aspects of life people had to assure you weren’t due to how you looked. “My dear, what’re you doing all dressed down like this?” Alastors voice rang out joyfully. With a jump and a squeak your arms go to cover your body, however Alastor had already turned his back for you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart! I should’ve knocked!” Even though Alastor was being respectful, a nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of you.
“Uhm, well you can look actually…” You muttered voice just above a whisper as you rubbed your arm. Alastors hands were on his hips, elbows pointed out head facing down, then he perked up head looking behind him. Smile present on his face his eyes shamelessly drank you up. “I couldn’t find any clothes,” You mutter your throat closing as the tears returned with the thoughts of before.
Alastors body finally turned his smile falling as he watched your from recoil away from his gaze. Stepping into the room his dress shoes clinked against the wooden floor as he approached you his arms outstretched to you. Immediately you fell into his embrace holding back the urge to cry, you wanted to be as strong as he was; smiling through no matter.
However when his hand began rubbing your back, soft words of worry falling from his lips, you lost it. Burying your face into his shoulder you cried, muttering your insecurities into him as he cradled you. “And Alastor they must think i’m a joke, you’re so small compared to me.” You cried out, pulling back to look into his chocolate eyes. Quickly he pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket, his smile now a frown as he watched tears roll down your cheeks.
“My my, that’s the best part doudou. I love having flesh to bite, grip, squeeze,” Alastor grinned speaking through his closed teeth as he gripped your waist pulling your hips to his and you looked down hiding your face at his ridiculous nickname for you. “I feel proud to be able to feed you, my mother would be proud too, she’d absolutely love you. Worry not my dearest doe, i will have anything tailored to your need, and any crude bastard to comment on you I will hand slaughter the night of thee event, just to send a little message.” Alastor puffed his chest into you, his voice strangely dark and possessive, his eyes gleaming with pride as he kneaded your flesh beneath his fingers.
You never thought about it like that Alastor being able to properly provide for you, no; that was the fun of Alastor though he always knew how to twist things into something better than. Not to mention the idea of him being willing to commit a crime for you in the midst of a serial killer going around, that was something very special to you, strangely enough.
“Alastor you’re insane sometimes, but i love you.” You grinned finally, in turn making Alastors smile return larger then ever. Hands crawling up his chest and neck, you pulled him close and into a kiss. Your immediately Alastor gave into your tug, crashing his lips quickly onto your own roughly, his body grinding into your own as he did so, impatient to show you how much you mean to him though his psychical affections.
His hands gripped every little bit of flesh they passed, trailing up and down your body rolls and all, indulging his desire for you. You moaned lightly into his mouth when you felt the hard pressure of him pressed against your thigh. Alastor pulled away biting your lip as he did so, dragging it out. His eyes were lidded and one of his perfectly gelled curls fell forward and down touching the brim of his eyeglasses. “See how quickly you make me indecent my dear? Oh sweet doe, you make me so disgusting.” Alastor whined in a way, which you’d never heard, and stuffed his head into your neck, kissing, biting and sucking at your warm neck
“Alastor i’m sweaty!” You squeal as he dragged his tongue up your neck, biting at the flesh under you chin. “I know,” He mumbled quickly barely breaking away from decorating your neck. “So stop!” You huffed noncommittally as your hands came down to rest on his shoulders, lightly pushing him. “Why my little doe, you taste better this way.”
Alastor pulled back his coy smile on display as he did so, there was something so disbelieved and feral about how he looked despite not being unkept in the slightest. You felt slightly embarrassed by him admitting he liked you sweaty, but it was also comforting knowing that things you thought made you repulsive, actually attracted him.
“Come to bed with me, chérie?” Alastor hummed slyly, pulling your wrists gently toward the direction of the bed, where he was walking. “To sleep?” You asked flatly eyebrow raised, this caused a genuine laugh to bubble out of Alastors chest his head shaking just a bit. “No, and i think you knew that.” He whispered as he tugged you into him and then down onto the bed. You tensed as he did so, sitting up on your elbows you look at him and scold him.
You paused as Alastors gaze beat down on you hotly, it was sinful how he was looking at you with that cheshire grin on his face. He pulled off his glove with his teeth and used his degloved hand to remove the other one before he undid his vest, chucking it aside carelessly. You took a deep breath your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you watched him closely.
Yes you’ve had sex with Alastor before, although neither of you had a high libido so it wasn’t often, and when it was it wasn’t needy like now, no, it was loving, passionate. Alastor tossed his shirt aside crawling ontop of you right after, groaning as he pressed his bulged into the warmth of your thighs. Whimpering you covered your eyes unable to face the lustful look he was giving you.
His warm flesh melted into yours as he lowered himself ontop of you, his skin hot and sticky from being out in the louisiana heat, his breath tickled your skin as his lips dragged around your neck teasingly. “Gosh Al, I - you’re making me feel so- please.” You moaned quietly unable to place the feeling coursing through you. A mixture of wanting to beg him to devour you and wanting to hide yourself away from his heated gestures.
“What is is it you need, my dear?” His voice was sweet like honey as he breathed his sin into your ear, hand coming up under the leg hole of your undergarments, inching closer to your core. You breath was quievered as your hands found there way to his slightly musicled biceps, sinking your nails into them. Finally he backed up on his knees, and yanked down your undergarments, making you gasp.
Your husband has never been this, it made you dizzy and confused, why has he been hiding such ravenousness from you? Alastor looked down at you with pity, your legs reflexively closed before he could get a glimpse of your pretty. “Please darling don’t be modest, I need you more then ever now. I’m a starved man don’t you know? I need your quench.” You watched him as he spoke, his eyebrows knitted his face soft as he mockingly pleaded with you while he undid the button in his slacks and soon pulled down the zipper.
With jagged breaths you watched him disrobe, pulling his cock from his boxers and stroking it for you to see. Precum dripped from the tip and down his shaft, mixing into the dark coiled public hair at the base. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You whined looking away, you heard him chuckle at an octave you’ve never heard before. “What’s wrong darling? Can’t stand to see how perverse you make me? How cruel, honestly.” He huffed before his warm hands came to grip on your knees, yanking them apart. “My dear, you’re absolutely devine, you have no idea. It’s sickeningly cruel on my part, but I can’t help but be greedy about the way I only get to have you. In a world of commons, i get the rare.” Alastors hips slotted in between your thighs like many times before but this time you were so soaked you needed no foreplay. The head of his shaft prodded at your entrance, making your hips tilt forward attempting to gain friction and contact.
“Please Al, don’t make me beg you.” You moaned quietly, ashamed of how quickly you bent to his will. Alastor grinned down at you, admiring your body relaxed and needy beneath him. There wasn’t a soul he’d replace you for, you were everything and more. He could come clean about his murders and you’d kiss his cheek and serve him some whisky for his stress, because you were family, you were his.
Alastor slid into you slowly, feeling every inch of you against him, his thighs pressed against your own, he loved the feeling of you consuming him all at once. The way your body embraced his own was heaven on earth, you were his comfort that he didn’t deserved. As he watched you beneath him gasp, shake and moan as he sunk into slowly, harshly and repeatedly, he whispered sweet nothings to you. He let out a condescending chuckle while calling you a good pet, told you your body was his to love too and for shame for berating it.
You saw stars and he would slowly pull out and slam back in, believing that was the extent of this session. However, Alastor pressed his hips fully up against your own, kneading the softness of your belly as he stilled. Leaning down he captured you in a kiss, catching you off guard. You reciprocated fisting his curly hair and pulling him closer, which in response made him growl and grunt into you. He felt you clench around him at the sound, and in the moment decided he’d show you how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.
Suddenly Alastor pulled his hips back, and grinded back down into you, his public hair tickling your swollen clit, juices from your arousal squelching as he did so. This time he wasn’t slow, his pace was even and moderate, fucking you into the mattress so hard, the springs snapped, the wood creaked and you swore the bed frame was moving. Alastor pulled away from your swollen lips burying his face in your neck, he moaned for you.
You rolled your eyes back at the sounds he made, ahs, uhs and groans that were only for you. “Oh fuck Alastor i’m gonna cum,” You squeaked clenching your toes tightly as he jackhammered into you, breathing and gasping into your ear as he felt you grip him. Alastor wasn’t proud to admit it but he was too weak to respond, instead he bit down, sucking and groaning into your skin. His pace got clumsy as you cried out in ecstasy, coiling your body around him as you came harshly.
Your arm around his back, one arm around his neck and gripping his hair, and your legs tightly locked around your hips, yeah Alastor couldn’t resist himself from shooting strings into you. Your body jolted as he came shaking your while body, his grunts and whines making your sensitive hole clench him nearer. Without a warning his body collapsed ontop of yours, a deep breath escaping him as he finally relaxed. “I’ve never felt that before dear,” Alastor admitted after a moment of silence. “Me neither, made me forget about everything.” You say hazily, your voice lifted and raw from the noises you let out.
Alastor chucked his fogged glasses to the side, pulling himself out with a huff. Smiling sweetly you watched him gently place a kiss on your stomach and walk off. Sitting up you nearly went to call after him, before his naked body came waltzing back with a rag. “Wanna have a lazy evening in chérie?” You hummed approvingly, and attempted to take the rag, he scoffed at you and lightly pushed your hand away. Softly and embarrassingly so, he cleaned you from himself, enjoying the sight while he was at it.
Once finished Alastor returned the rag as you readied the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. Coming back in Alastor went to grab you both clothes before you called to him. “Can, well- i want to feel you still?” You questioned more than said. Shutting the drawer with a slam he grinned like the little cheshire he was and crawled into bed with you. You pulled him in and he you, nuzzling yourself into his chest you whimpered at the contact, feeling various emotions run through you.
“I chose you my dear, for many reasons not only your looks, your love, your passion but your body too, I love all parts of you, and I know how thoughtless people can be, I will protect you from those comments in the future.” Alastor whispers into your head kissing the top of it right after. You caressed his chest with your nails, throwing your leg over his torso. “Thank you Alastor. I love you too, hell there’s nothing that would make me not love you.” Alastor scoffed his grin returning. “Even murder?” He questioned angling his neck to the side to meet your eyes. Smiling up at him you gave a point nod. “Even murder.”
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel oneshots#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel smut#alastor imagine#human alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#human alastor x reader#alastor x reader fluff#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor
408 notes
·
View notes
Text
🦐 ; Bigger Hints
warnings ; implied yandere behavior, contains nsfw, stalking, dark explicit content, gore(?) well slightly, NOT proof read (im sorry)😿, fem reader
wc ; 2,241
might make a few more bunch of these with the others in mind 😸!
maybe taking on the offer of the one and only fyodor dostoevsky wasn't such a bad idea at first. taking on the job to be an undercover spy for him, your job was to only spy on the list of people he gave to you. atsushi, dazai, blah blah blah.. a whole bunch of random people you don't even know from before. well not until now that you're already trying to pinpoint their whereabouts.
and in return, you get money. that's right- money.
you liked money, with it's own multiple purposes- to buy new clothes, food, accessories, some new shoes.. oh how it was such a dream for you to achieve those. i mean, the job was to only spy on them, don't act suspicious.. and don't get caught, those were the last thoughts before you accepted the job, signed the contract you were offered from fyodor.
fyodor.. was a strange and quite gave off an unsettling vibe for you. from his outfit dressed oddly to his dark mauve colored eyes gazing at you as you try to drink your tea in peace while you two were in the same room. why'd he have to look at you like that?! it was making the atmosphere quite a bit awkward so you shifted your gaze somewhere else quickly after meeting sight with him.
focus on something else... oh the music! yes, yes, y/n. just listen to the music and enjoy your food, don't look at fyodor for god's sake!
it had been already more than a few times of exchanging stares from each other between you and fyodor, you had to ask yourself why does he have to look at you so often? not like something's wrong with what you're wearing right? or maybe there was something on your face?
you assumed that fyodor has an interest in orchestra music. he would always play them while you two were doing nothing, his eyes closed as he listened to the tune while you sat there or while resting. you weren't allowed to bring your phone in fyodor's base. it was forbidden but you don't dare to ask why.
"soo.. how long have you been listening to orchestra music, fyodor?" you asked in hopes to lessen the unhandy feeling. starting a conversation to expect a reply when he did the opposite. now that made you felt quite embarrassed- or maybe he didn't hear you through the sound of the music running in the background?
great, now you just wanna bury yourself under the dirt.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
as days passed, fyodor's behavior made quite a curve.. rather than usual.
now, starting a conversation with him was the least likely thing you wanted to take action on. thinking that he was the person who didn't like to be disturbed after the 'awkward' event that happened a few days ago. but now was different.
he was getting quite getting verbal with you, besides the conversation of your report on the strange men you spied- fyodor started making side comments after your reports. it would sometimes be questions of what else did you do besides spying? or what did you eat today? or, did you take a bath?
then to be surprised to feel a vibration from your pocket after finishing your break in fyodor's base. receiving an unknown number through your phone. the message stating 'this is fyodor.'
now that felt the slight goosebumps on your skin. how'd he even get your number? you don't remember giving out your number to anyone these past few weeks.
you shrugged it off, telling your self it was no big deal. being familiar with fyodor didn't set you off, although you still wonder how'd he get your number from the start.
the next day you asked fyodor on how'd he get your number, to be only answered by silence and another music piece of orchestra playing in the background, was he avoiding your question- or did he not hear it again?
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
the next few days again, you receive such special and luxurious gifts outside your doorstep from an unknown sender. they would vary, to sets of bouquets, expensive chocolates, high quality essentials, and branded clothes and bags. and a gigantic fluffy teddy bear.
of course you were really shocked. at first, you thought that the sender might be sending a bunch of these gifts to the wrong person or the wrong address. but unfortunately the gifts didn't give any clue who was sending it, not even a note or an initial somewhere. truthfully you wanted to return it out of guilt, feeling that you don't deserve much of these- still thinking this must be for another person but mistaken you for that person. yet you still kept them, stacking it around the empty spaced corner you had in your dorm.
you're making money out of this job you have, you can get all of those one day if you finally start a career and become successful one day using the saved up cash you get from your job.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
on the last day of your contract, which stated that you only needed to do this for a month. unexpectingly your relationship between fyodor had become more.. closer?
fyodor started to question more about your personal life, your family, past history, relationships, your friends, experiences that you found funny. he listened while you kept talking. and one time, you swore that you heard him mumble, but you were in the middle of talking as you were pouring the kettle filled with tea onto your empty tea cup.
sitting on the fancy looking sofa, fyodor who's roots are surprisingly removed from his chair he usually sat on- instead, he sat near the single fancy looking chair just beside the long sofa you were sitting on.
"i'd love to hear your voice forever."
"sorry, i didn't hear what you said! what were you saying again?" you spoke as your hurried to place the kettle back to its old position.
to his reply, "oh- nothing, you can continue."
you blinked for a moment, "alright, so-" continuing what you were saying without a single curiosity on what he previously said. you assumed maybe it was just the wind? well that was funny for a wind to sound like fyodor that time. but once again, the poor oblivious y/n was going about to dive in the danger zone.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
"n-ngh.. ah-" fyodor hissed under his shortened breath, huffing as he watching from the desktop in front of him as his hand was moving up and down furiously around his cock from the displayed footage in his desktop.
a live footage of you, completely naked after your shower. it was such a delightful image to see in his eyes, your body wet, the way the water droplets drooped on your skin, your pair of tits who fyodor was craving to fondle.
god, it was making him so crazy. watching you dress up in a sexy looking dress- it was even the dress fyodor sent you. your bare ass faced in front of the camera made his action fasten- he bit his lips, his hand pumping his throbbing cock till he reached to his climax. making his cum stain on the screen of his desktop.
fyodor gulped the lump on his throat, calming his breathing when you were almost finished with dressing up yourself- you were grabbing a pair of heels then a doorbell suddenly rang on your door. it was 8pm, now who could that be? "coming!" you shouted, grabbing the purse that was on your bed.
fyodor watched you wear those pair of heels in a haste, you tried to run after wearing them- yet still being careful not to trip. he continued to watch you out of curiosity on who was on your doorstep in the middle of the night. unfortunately for him, the creek to your room showed a silhouette of you and another person who was taller than you, had quite a large figure, and was a man, he thought.
the built-in camera inside the teddy bear he sent you recorded the conversation coming through the hallway, both of you and the man's voices echoing loud enough for the camera to reach the volume. to fyodor's reaction, it really was the worse that y/n can imagine.
"are you ready for our date?" the voice of a man spoke
"mhm, didn't expect you to get here at the exact time we talked about!" your voice replied.
something inside fyodor was burning intensely, his heart felt a painful ache he couldn't prevent- his hands balled into a fist while his eyes glared at the screen after hearing what he just heard. a date? with this man he never knew of? how ridiculous.
he thought that you were getting the hints he was giving, although to you- it barely even got into your mind that he was into you by showing the sudden curve of behavior.
he had to make a bigger hint on who you only belong to.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
the contract ended with fyodor, you were now a cashier for a bakery- still saving up money for the career you want to pursue.
everything was as normal as usual, a day where you work, go home, eat, sleep. then to wake up to your new fiance cooking you a good smelling breakfast in the morning. you met your partner by just stumbling upon him by the street, spilling coffee on you that stained what you were wearing, offered to pay and treat you to a restaurant- he insisted alot so you couldn't help but agree, then that's where all the talking started.
he was a night shift worker who worked as an engineer. while you worked from afternoon to around the evening.
then suddenly, every important people in your life, disappear one by one.
receiving an email of a photo of your fiance caught kissing another woman in a club- heartbroken then went to seek comfort through your friends, but they refused to be in contact with you, you didn't know why!
you were in the lowest point of your life.. you seek your family, calling your mom- hoping that she'd pick up but to misfortune hitting you, you only got a message that says they're not available. for after 30+ calls every hour?!
you don't know what's happening.. you ask yourself what is happening? you were confused, so confused. you lied there on your bed for who knows how many days you were sobbing with red puffy eyes surrounded with tissues all over the place.
curled up into a ball, you were fired from your job for being absent for weeks without any reason. now that just made it worse for you- the feeling of being back to zero, now who were you to turn to now?
'fyodor..' wait, that's right.. fyodor! maybe you could take his job again, in hopes to get progress through life being rough on the road.
you sat up from your bed, feeling a bit of back pain from lying for too long. you stood up and quickly grabbed a jacket and wearing it- there you took the route you were once familiar with. to the way to get to the man fyodor's place.
finally arriving to his place which was located in a forest, you walked up to the door and gathered the courage to knock. just knock y/n.. just like before, like you always did.. fyodor knows you right?
with a silent moment, you knocked 3 times. then a few seconds passed you overthinked that maybe he doesn't live here anymore. or maybe he wasn't hear- or maybe he just didn't want to answer the door-
the sound of the doorknob turned, you were startled but your body felt nervous for seeing a person you haven't seen for a while.
and there you met eyes again with the man, one and only- fyodor. he still looked the same as ever from the last time you saw him, he greeted you with a smile as he looked down at you.
"fyodor! i-"
you were cut off by fyodor's sudden offering of a small box with a ribbon wrapped on it.
"what's this..?" you asked.
"oh, open it so you can find out." fyodor replied.
you took the small box out of the palm of his hands, with one pull of the strand of the ribbon untied it. you opened the lid of the box.
a flash of horror and disgust was on your face, immediately recognizing what was inside.. it was the finger of your fiance.. the finger where he wore the matching rings he gave you when he proposed to you.
"what the fuck!" you dropped the box out of shock, you looked at fyodor with your legs feeling weak as they tremble- your breath started to shake. you felt stunned. paralyzed.
fyodor smiling at you, how did he get that in the first place..? you had so much questions running your mind, they continue and continue.. and continue till your nose was covered with a cloth.
your vision blurred, you felt your consciousness fading. what was happening? were you dying? you finally collapsed, being caught in fyodor's arms as he gazed at you the way he gazed you from the beginning.
fyodor's arms wrapped around your unconscious body, pulling you close to kiss your forehead. a smile of victory.
"you're mine.. all mine my little мышь"
#bsd x reader#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#yandere fyodor x reader#fyodor x reader#doa x reader#decay of angels x reader#bungo stray dogs x you#bungo stray dogs x reader#yandere fyodor#yandere fyodor x y/n#yandere fyodor x you#bungo stray dogs imagine#yandere bungou stray dogs#yandere bsd#yandere bsd x reader
287 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reading the new Vulture article about Neil Gaiman's serial sexual abuse (and Amanda Palmer's complicity) has shaken me, maybe most viscerally in the way it describes the weird kind of normal that victims so often have to construct.
Many survivors of sexual violence do not process their experience as such, not at first. I was one of them. It's such a shock to the system that lots of us kind of just... erase it? Like the tape is fuzzy there or the file got corrupted or the footage is just abruptly missing for that stretch of time. You just go on and don't really account for that lost time.
I got changed and threw out the clothes I'd been wearing in a dumpster, came back to the room, and woke the rest of the band up to start loading the trailer so we could get to the next show. One of the men in that room had raped me only a few hours earlier.
One of my band mates was having marriage trouble and asked us, his friends and me, for advice. I gave him genuinely good insight and helped navigate a tough moment in the relationship. He had raped me less than 12 hours previously.
We played a show with some artists I looked up to. I was in the green room with them and him. He saw how excited I was to be talking to these people and started talking me up as a musician to them. He had raped me only a few weeks prior.
Who do you tell? Who can you tell? Who will believe you? Who will do something, anything, to help you? I wasn't talking to my family. I didn't have other friends. I didn't know anyone in the scene. I wasn't thinking explicitly in those terms, but they lurked in the back of my head, the kinds of things that redirect you out of any critical analysis.
Lots of things went unexamined: why I'd thrown those clothes out; why I was bleeding and bruised the next day; why I was still nursing those injuries weeks later. That sort of thing. I didn't think to wonder why I didn't like to let him out of my sight when we hang out. I didn't pay any mind to how I'd get so anxious that I could barely breathe if he walked behind me or between me and a door. I couldn't bear to think precisely *whose* hands I kept feeling around my waist and neck when I woke up in a panic.
And you just keep on with that fractured kind of normal for as long as it takes, every day that you can't admit it adding interest to the emotional devastation. You wonder sometimes "am I crazy? I must be. Normal people don't feel that way." You deflect when the conversation veers too close. You feel afraid to label your experience *that* way because really it wasn't all that bad and I'm just exaggerating like I do.
And then one day you can't keep up the facade. Something slips. Someone sees something you didn't want them to. Someone comments and then doesn't buy the deflection. The details are different every time for every person, but two things are always true:
* you're gonna grieve hideously for the hideous thing that was done to you
* you're gonna have to deal with the thought that no one might ever believe you
It's a power thing. He had the power to do that to you. To me. To her. To them. That's what made you vulnerable. He wasn't suave or seductive or darkly brilliant. He was just stronger than you, more powerful. That's what keeps you quiet. He'll be able to shut the conversation down, deflect and move on, label you a libellous slut and call it a day with no more inconvenience than wiping off his shoes. He'll have friends that help him find his marks, who make him opportunities. He'll toss you right out and not think twice about doing it. My guy got to do it to me once, and it took everything in me to manage to keep it from happening again without *looking* like that's what I was doing. Sometimes though, when they're rich and powerful, they just get to keep doing and doing and doing. Dozens of times to dozens of women, every one of them living the same fractured reality that I and so many others have woken up into.
If you're reading the accusations against Neil Gaiman and wondering how it went on so long and so far, that's the whole equation: powerful men surrounded by enablers, living in a culture that sees their trauma as fodder for literary awards and ours as something so inconvenient to consider that it's easier to leave us all alone with nothing to console the sense that, even though you can't quite remember it, something terrible happened right where the tape skips.
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
soaked - j.m/j.r (18+)
jj maybank x reader x john b routledge
sum: finally single, you skinny dip in front of two pogues who have had a crush on you for years
warnings: threesome, double penetration, anal sex, oral(m), oral(f), creampie, throatfuck,tit play, breeding kink, choking, degradation
little ask from my friend @amournoir this took forever but it is SUPER long and detailed so i hope you love it!
It was four in the morning before things started to quiet down in your house. Red solo cups littered the lawn and hallways and you were sure you’d finding beer cans for weeks. Things had gotten out of hand quickly.
After your breakup earlier in the week, you friends suggested you have a small party to get your mind off of things since you parents would be out. That small party had turned into a rager, with you finding people you didn’t even know sleeping in your parents bed. You were convinced you would have to burn the sheets.
You sat outside on the patio with your feet dangling into the pool water. Everyone who was left of the party was inside. It was late, and too cold to be out, despite the pool being heated.
Hearing the sliding glass door open and close behind you, you groaned. “Rafe, how many times do I have to tell you I don’t wanna buy any drugs from you?”
The man behind you laughed quietly, and you recognized immediately that the voice didnt belong to Rafe. “I wouldn’t buy from Rafe either.”
Pulling your feet from the water, you spun to face him, hugging your knees when you were sat towards him. You recognized his face, but couldn’t put a name to it. He was lean but muscular, his blond hair framing his face in just the right way. He put his hands into his pockets, looking around and then back to you. “Kinda cold out here, isn’t it?”
You could tell he was referencing the fact that your legs were wet from the pool. “S’not so bad,” you shrugged, turning back towards the water, “Been colder.”
The blond huffed, smiling just a bit at your indifference. “Well, yeah,” he began taken off his shoes and socks, “How colds the water?”
Before you could reply, the sliding door open again from behind you, this time another familiar face stepping around into view.
He smiled wide, taking a hand to fluff the hair on top of your head. “Been forever since I’ve seen you, kid, huh?”
You groaned. John B. That’s who this was again. From the summer your parents had sent you to work on the cut for the experience. You were sixteen, and he and his friend had tormented you to no end with their little crushes on you.
You exhaled, dipping your toes into the warm water again, “You’re two months older than me, John B.”
The blond knelt to sit beside you at the edge of the pool, leaning to test the water with one finger, “Shit!” He smirked, turning back to John B and then to you, “You didn’t say it was heated.”
You shrugged, your stomach turning over. Thoughts of your ex flooded your mind. When was the last time you had been this close to another guy without him? It all felt so foreign.
“Good cuz it’s cold as fuck out here,” John B laughed, taking his shoes and socks off as well before sitting beside you at the pools edge.
You felt captivated by the two attractive men at your sides, finally after years able to feel like you could look at them. Then the idea struck you.
Without a word you began to strip. Your shirt first, as it was easy to do in your seated position.
“Woah!” The blond cheered his eyes immediately landing on your exposed bra, “What…what is going on here?”
You looked behind you to see the house empty of the last party guests. Perfect. Standing, you pushed your shorts and panties down, purposefully catching them on the fat of your ass for a moment. You could feel two pairs of eyes trained on you.
John B slapped a hand to the blond’s bicep. “JJ,” He mumbled, not taking his eyes off of you, “shut the fuck up.”
You brushed yourself off before taking a few steps to the deep end of the pool. Turning to the guys you unhooked and dropped your bra before diving straight in. The water enveloped you, warm against your skin. Resurfacing, you slicked your hair back, raking your fingers through it as a comb. “Come in,” You cooed, “Waters so nice.”
“Fuck, you don’t have to tell me twice,” JJ laughed, standing immediately to strip. You watched him silently from the water, eyes trained on his muscular arms and chest. He was eventually fully naked, giving you only a moment to see his cock before he dove into the water. John B followed just as eagerly, diving in only a few seconds behind JJ.
Both guys swam to meet you where you could stand, pinning you against the wall. JJ’s head ducked under water to suck at your breast and John B’s to kiss at your neck. You moaned, feeling both of their hands groping greedily at your body. Both wanting more and all of you. JJ came up to breathe, brushing his hair out of his face before pulling you into a heavy kiss.
You could feel both of them hard against you. Your pussy ached desperately and finally got relief when John B started rolling circles onto your clit. Your hips rolled into his hand as JJ slid a hand to your nipple. Your neck was littered with love bites from John B.
“I wanna taste you,” JJ moaned, pulling away from your mouth, “wanna taste your pussy.”
You blushed at his clearly tipsy words, before shrieking as John B hoisted you up onto the pool edge.
“There she is,” He spread your legs, exposing your pussy to both of them, “You wanna taste her first, JJ?”
He nodded, pulling himself against the edge of the pool onto his forearms, his face inches from your pussy. He pressed his thumb into your clit. “So pretty, baby.”
You moaned as he took clit into his mouth, sucking. His tongue worked magic on you, making you feel like you were gonna finish right away.
While he did this, John B got out of the pool to stand beside you. He rubbed your head, brushed your hair out of your face. “Think you can suck my cock while he eats your pussy?”
You nodded fervently, face flushed and stomach tensing from your impending orgasm. John B stroked himself twice before placing the tip against your lips.
Just then, you felt JJ push two fingers inside of you. With your moan, John B slipped his cock past your lips. You suddenly felt so full, John B’s cock in your mouth and JJ’s fingers in your pussy.
John B thrust into your mouth, placing his hand on the back of your head. You held back a gag, swallowing around his cock. He was thick, but so long. His tip was deep in your throat with every thrust.
JJ contuined to work on your pussy, fingers rubbing against your g-spot as his tongue rolled against your clit. You shook into him, clenching around his fingers as you started to orgasm.
“Oh that’s..ah, baby,” John B moaned, bucking into your throat again, “Cum for him baby, I know you need to cum,” Your pussy tightened, and then relaxed as your vision went white. Your body was warm and you felt John B pull himself out of your mouth.
JJ pulled away from your pussy, wiping his chin, as John B dove back into the pool.
“I say,” JJ smirked, “We both have her. For being such a naughty girl.” He laughed, eyes dark as he pulled you back down into the water. His hands groped your ass roughly as he pulled your against his hips.
“I like that idea.” John B swam behind you, pressing his erection into your back. You felt his fingers trail around to your ass before gently sliding one in. You winced, hissing at the burning sensation. “It’s okay,” JJ rocked his hips forward, thrusting partway into you, “Relax princess.”
“So big” You stifled a moan, mind suddenly away from John B sliding a second finger into you. “Yeah?” John B smirked, leaning into you as he fucked his fingers into your ass, “If you think that just wait.” You felt him line his cock up with your ass, slowly sinking it in until you were completely full of both of them. You threw your head back against John B’s shoulder, exposing your neck to JJ to leave more love bites.
“Oh my god,” You cried, clenching as they both moved inside of you. “Fuck,” JJ moaned, screwing his eyes shut. John B had gone silent, trying his best not to cum right away.
Both guys began rocking their hips in unison, and you rolling your against them. “You’re so tight baby,” John B groaned, throbbing inside of you. His hand came from behind you to your throat, restricting your air flow. It heightened your pleasure, inching your orgasm closer.
“I’m not pulling out,” JJ growled, thrusting faster into your pussy, “Need to cum in you, fill you up and get you pregnant.”You cried, rocking your pussy down into him as your second orgasm washed over you. “Please JJ,” you whined against John B’s hand, “Breed me, get me pregnant.”
John B leaned against your ear, fucking you harder and sloppier than he had before. “Take it you fucking slut…take my cum.”
You felt John B spill inside you ass, and then JJ inside your pussy seconds later. You were completely full and both guys were hot against your body.
“Group shower?” JJ smirked, groping at your breast again.
taglist, reply to any post to be added or removed:
@fangirlwithlou lou @officallyallyrose se @cutesouls @alinaharlow @maybankslover @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @outerbankspov @lexexo @bbycowboi @ajaxisbae @palmwinemami @rafecameronsslxt @illicitfixations @faithforgottenlxnd @mvybanks @softcoremaybank
#outer banks#outerbanks#obx#obx smut#obx season 3#obx fic#obx imagine#obx2#jj maybank#jj obx#jj maybank obx#obx jj#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#jj obx imagine#jj maybank x you#outerbanks jj#john b x reader#john b x you#john b smut#john b obx#john b routledge#john b x reader smut#obx jj x reader#obx john b#obx jj maybank#obx x y/n#obx3#jj outer banks
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Heavy Weighs the Crown
Had to stop working on everything else and write a whole bunch of this instead. Usually I like to finish things that I think might be on the longer side before I start posting, but we're gonna live on the edge with this one. Expect updates in 1-2 Bearimys.
Chapter One - Sweetpea
Chapter Index - Next Chapter >
Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, Large men picking up reader like a football, No Y/N, A spot of magic, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through. This is just me having a bit of fun with a fantasy setting because it is my favourite type.
~3.4k Words - MDNI
Sunlight streams down through the light scattering of clouds above, as you carry your nearly empty basket into town to buy a few things for your auntie Kate. She’s not truly your aunt, but over the past few years it’s hard to think of her as anything less than family. She’s not warm, exactly, but she’s honest, and you know that you can trust her with anything.
Kate would usually be at your side when you go into town, watching the crowd with hawkish intensity, as though she still expects agents of the new king to materialize and snatch you away, but she’s away on business, and her wife much less paranoid. You expect that anyone who was ever looking for you has given up on you now. After the civil war, there was a time of instability, and you laid awake many nights, half expecting armed men to break into your bedroom and snatch you away, but everything is smoothed over now, and there’s no reason why Price would feel like he needed you to cement his rule.
You’re happy to just let him have the kingdom. You have more freedom as an ordinary girl, and you’re happier now than you ever have been. You were miserable living in your father’s halls, just a spindly little flower growing without enough sun or rain. And your people are happy now too. It twists your stomach something fierce, to think that your father was never a good king, but the reality is that he wasn’t. People starved while he feasted behind his walls. He sent good men to wage war on his behalf, to die in far off lands when they should have been home building better lives for themselves and their families. He allowed his chosen men to terrorize the women and children and old men living in the towns still. Things had been bad.
So yes, let Price have the crown, and the castle, and the responsibility and anything he likes. What difference does it make to you now?
What matters now is the sun on your face, and the gentle sound of birdsong around you, and the dull bite of the occasional stone through the soft leather soles of your shoes. The air smells sweet and green, although there’s a slight prickle at the back of your nose that tells you that there will be rain tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest. There’s nothing to worry about aside from whether or not the children in town will like the end of the book you have tucked into your basket.
You see a young man sleeping by the side of the road on your way into town, his horse tied to a long halter while he lounges beneath a tree. As you pass by, a bird flying too close startles the horse, and it pulls up the peg it’s tied to, and bolts. The young man doesn’t stir, so you dash after the horse without a thought, dropping your basket so you have both hands free to seize the halter.
You try to dig in your heels to stop the big, white-stockinged horse, but it half-drags you a little ways down the road before finally stopping, swinging it’s head around to look at you as though you’ve personally offended it. “Come on,” you tell it, exasperated. “You don’t belong out here.”
Arms wrap around you from behind, hands much larger than yours close over your wrists. “You’re awfully pretty for a horse thief,” a voice says in your ear.
“I’m not a horse thief!” you protest. “I was trying to help!” The horse snorts, as though it intends to tattle on you for something that you most certainly were not doing.
“And you didn’t think to wake me up?” The man behind you lets go of one of your wrists and spins you around, the movement smooth and graceful, like you’re two dancers at a ball, rather than two strangers meeting along a country road. But when you look up, you find the all too familiar face of one of Price’s knights.
“Sir Garrick!” you gasp.
“Princess,” he says, smiling. He’s far too handsome, his smile bright, teeth a little bit too sharp. “How very nice to see you. I thought for sure you’d have left the kingdom by now.”
“No! Oh no.” You push against his chest uselessly. He’s strong, so much stronger than you. Despair claws at your ribs. Your nightmare-come-true may be wrapped in a pretty, familiar face, but you have no desire to return to the capital. “Please let me go. I promise I don’t want the kingdom. Price can have it— You can have it. I just want to be left alone, I swear, I’ll never—”
“Hush, sweetpea.” He tucks a few of your thin braids behind your ear, fingertips grazing down your neck. “I have to bring you in. But you can make your case to Price. Maybe he’ll let you come back, alright? Don’t fret. He’s always been reasonable.”
You’re not certain how to get out of this. Sir Garrick has kind eyes, but his grip is like steel. He lifts you up easily and sets you on his horse before you so much as think of protesting or making a feeble attempt to fight him off.
“We’re not far from the capital. We can make it there before dark,” he continues, voice low and reassuring, as though you’re worried about the travel, and not the destination.
“But— What about my aunt? I should let her know where I’ve gone.”
“We’ll send word. Don’t you worry, your majesty.”
“No, no, don’t call me that. That’s for kings and queens, and I’m neither.” I’m no one, you want to shout.
He's amused by that, amused by you, as if you're just being a silly little girl. "I suppose we'll settle on sweetpea for now." He holds his palm out and three little white birds materialize and fly off in different directions, spectral and iridescent as soap bubbles. And then he swings into the seat behind you and pulls you most of the way into his lap, wraps strong arms around your waist, and nudges his mount into a walk.
“So,” Sir Garrick says conversationally, his voice low, lips far too close to your ear. It’s overly familiar, but you’re already practically sitting in the man’s lap. “What have you been doing out here all these years?”
“Um. Gardening. Embroidery. Taking care of my chickens. Lessons, for some of the children that live nearby. Just letters and arithmetic. I’ve been thinking about organizing a proper schoolhouse.” You can feel your nerves bubbling up as you babble, thoughts coming to you disorganized and stilted. “I never realized how few people can read. It seems a shame. I do a few hours of reading around town, help out at the church. I keep busy. I haven’t any real purpose, so I have to go out of my way to make one.” You sigh, thinking of how you had left things at a particularly gripping point in a story you’d been reading to the town children. They’ll be disappointed if they never hear the end of it, but you still have hope that Price will decide you’ve become something of a country bumpkin with no place in the court, and let you go back home soon. “How have you fared? Is your family well?”
“Quite well. My sisters will be glad to see you again. They always thought you were sweet. Rosie’s opened her own dress shop in the city, and Camellia has five children now. I think Kylie and Jorah were just two or three last you saw them. My mother lives with Cam to help out.” Sir Garrick’s mother and sister used to work at the palace, and he had been apprenticed to the court wizard before he specialized in battle magic and became a knight. You hadn’t been friends, exactly— You’re not sure you ever really had friends— but he’d always been nice enough, when your paths crossed.
“And what of you?” you prompt gently. “Have you found yourself a wife?”
He laughs lightly. “I’m working on it. I’ve a girl in mind, but I think she’ll take some convincing.”
“Oh I doubt that, Sir. You’re perfectly unobjectionable.”
“High praise indeed, princess.”
The two of you chat idly as you travel, mostly about nothing, but it’s pleasant enough. Sir Garrick— Kyle, he insists you call him— is far more charming than you remember, and he makes you laugh so much that you’re certain that you’d simply fall right off the horse if he wasn’t holding onto you so securely. He’s the very picture of a romantic hero, all chivalry and smiles, handsome in the dappled light under the canopy of trees as the road carries you from farmland to forest. You come to a bridge, and he dismounts so his horse can drink, and lifts you down so you can stretch out stiff muscles. His touch lingers, strong hands resting on your hips for a few beats longer than would be appropriate, but you don’t really mind.
You part from his company so you can relieve yourself a little ways into the trees, glad he’s not concerned about you making a run for it. His assurances that Price can be reasoned into letting you go home once you’ve spoken to him is enough to make you cooperative. You’re certain that he’ll take one look at you now and send you right back home. You’ve never had any luck with the young men in town, and if that’s any indication, you’ll be back to your little bedroom in Kate’s house before the week is up.
You fix your clothes and walk back to the road, humming lightly under your breath. Kyle is speaking to a flat glowing disc that hums with energy, floating above his palm. He gives you a smile and a nod and retreats to the tree line while he finishes his conversation. You catch a glimpse of a face on the disc as he turns, searing blue eyes meeting yours for a moment. Price, certainly. You recognize those eyes.
Kyle’s gaze slips over to you again as you kneel by the creek, one arm keeping your skirt out of the water while you trail the other hand through the water idly, the cool stream a pleasant offset to the heat of the afternoon. If you were alone, you would consider stripping down and going for a swim, but as nice as Kyle is, he’s still a man, and not one you know particularly well anymore, if you ever did.
When you look over again, he’s tucking the crystal disc into the front of his tunic, and a wolf is behind him, stalking out of the woods, low to the ground and ready to pounce. “Kyle!” you shout, pointing behind him. He turns quickly, a spell glittering on his fingertips, but the wolf pounces before he can cast it, both crashing into the packed earth along the side of the road.
You rush over, although halfway there you wonder what help you expect to be, and an arm snatches you around the middle, hauling you back. You’re beginning to get a bit annoyed at how much you’ve been manhandled today, and you start kicking as you’re lifted off your feet. “Let me go!”
“Easy, sweet girl. Let the lads say hello,” a deep voice says behind you, the sound rumbling through you like a cat’s purr. “No danger ‘ere.”
You look at Kyle and the wolf again. Only there isn’t a wolf anymore, just a large, naked man laying on top of Kyle, kissing him ardently and more than a little messily. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn. “Oh.”
The man who was a wolf stands up, and you look away, too flustered by the sight of so much bare skin to do anything else. The big man puts you down and turns you to face him, putting your back to the werewolf. “Johnny, put some clothes on before you say ‘ello. We know you were raised by savages, but you don’t need to act like it,” he says firmly, his heavy hands on your shoulders.
You stare at the skull embroidered on the black tunic in front of you, recognizing the emblem, and then the black fencers mask tied around the man’s face, obscuring even the shape of his features. You see a glint of light when he drops his chin to look at you though, gleaming eyes that look at you inscrutably. You know him, by name and reputation and deep, rumbling voice, if not by his face. No one knows him by his face, but he was as highly ranked a knight as Price was, one of your father’s personal guard before the war. Often tasked as your guardian, a solemn but comforting presence always. “Hello, Ghost,” you say, cheeks burning all the hotter. “Been a while.”
“Not as long as you might think,” he says. You can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Been keepin’ an eye on you.”
“What do you mean?” you ask. “For how long?”
“Knew where you were this whole time. Wun’t about to let you disappear, princess.” He tucks you against his side, keeping an arm around your shoulders protectively. “Johnny. Come meet our girl. Best behaviour.”
Johnny the werewolf grins at you as he walks up, still adjusting the drape of the tartan fabric around his hips, broad chest bare and dusted with hair, swirling blue tattoos printed on his scarred skin. His hair is shaved on the sides, a stripe of it left long in the center. “Nice ta finally meet ya, princess. Officially, anyway. We’ve bumped intae each other once or twice, but I was told no’ ta approach unless ye approached first, aye? Shame ye never did.” His smile is crooked, his too-bright blue eyes intent on yours. “Think we’ll get along.”
“The whole time?” you ask, skipping back a few paces in the conversation, glancing up at Ghost. “But Kyle said—”
“Sorry, sweetpea,” Kyle says airily. “I lied.”
“Typical tricksy wizard shite. But dinnae ye worry none, we’ll keep him honest for ye.” Johnny grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, and then to the inside of your palm. His rough fingertips push your sleeve back, and he kisses the inside of your wrist too. When you squeak, he gives you a heated look and does it again, teeth grazing sensitive skin as he opens his mouth and licks a stripe across your pulse.
You’re warm from the tips of your ears to your chest, your breath catching on ragged nerves. You tug your hand out of his grip and cradle it with your other, like you’ve been burned by his brash touch.
“Johnny,” Ghost says, exasperated. “S’that what you call best behaviour?”
“She likes it, sir.”
“I most certainly do not!” you protest.
“Oh, aye ye do. Werewolf, ye ken. Can smell ye.” Johnny taps the side of his nose and winks at you. “Ye dinnae need ta be embarrassed, sweetpea. Ye can hardly blame yerself, faced with all this.” He gestures to his admittedly impressive physique, the broad and lean shape of near-perfect manhood on immodest display.
“Let’s move.” Kyle’s hand brushes your elbow. “You can ride with me again.”
Ghost shakes his head and turns, pulling you with him. “No. Come meet Nox.” He whistles, and a huge black shape hurtles down from the sky, glossy black wings snapping open just before the creature hit the ground, flapping a few times so that it lands lightly on four mismatched limbs, stirring up dust leaves. You shrink back against Ghost’s side, eyes wide. A gryphon.
The massive beast has a raven’s head and wings, and shiny black fur on it’s haunches. The catlike tail, with it’s tuft of feathers at the end, twitches back and forth as the bird head tilts to regard you, dark, slit-pupil eyes watching you with interest.
You look up at Ghost for reassurance, and he nods. “Go on. Offer ‘er your ‘and. She won’t bite. Hey, girl?” he scratches the gryphon behind the ear, and it opens it’s mouth to make a vibrating, keening sound that makes Kyle’s horse snort nervously. “That’s right, sweetpea’s a friend.”
You offer your outstretched hand to the giant creature, bolstered by Ghost’s calm, and it sticks it’s beak under your palm, making the same keening sound again. The last of your apprehension melts away, and you step closer, smiling. “Aren’t you a pretty girl?” You scratch the spot where her beak meets her feathers, and her eyes close for a moment.
Johnny reaches for the Nox’s side, and she whips her head around and hisses at him, her throat feathers fluffing up defensively. “Och, yer no’ goan ta git my fingers, ye wee beastie. Thought ye was gettin’ soft.”
“Away, Johnny. Let the girls get to know each other.” Ghost stands behind you and guides your hands to points just behind Nox’s jaw. The gryphon croaks and leans her head on your shoulder, nudging Ghost with her beak.
“Not so scary,” you coo, pressing your face into the soft cloud of feathers. “What a sweet girl.”
“How about it, Nox? Can she ‘op up?” Ghost asks. The gryphon croaks again and backs away enough to lean her front half down. Ghost picks you up and sets you on her back, on a flat saddle that sits right behind the joint of her massive wings, which fold up over your legs like she’s holding you steady. He pats Nox on the neck and starts walking, and she follows, padding beside him, sticking her beak between the joints of his leather armor playfully whenever he takes his hand off her.
You grab the edge of the saddle, mindful of Nox’s feathers, and it takes a moment to adjust to her movement. It’s not the side to side sway of a horse, but she’s steady, like she’s trying her best not to spill an inexperienced rider. Thoughtful of her.
Behind you, Kyle scrambles up onto his horse, and Johnny hustles to catch up, positioning himself on Ghost’s other side, giving Nox a wider berth.
“Thought we weren’t supposed ta tell her we were watchin’,” Johnny said. “Price said—”
“She ought to know. I wun’t too ‘appy about it in the first place, but a deal’s a deal.”
“A deal with who?” you ask.
“I’ll let Price tell you that much, sweetpea. But if it were up to me I’d’ve dragged you back home years ago.”
You shake your head tiredly. “Home is where I was. And I’m going back as soon as this business with Price is done. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m sure we can work something out. Kyle said he’s reasonable.”
“Oh, did ‘e?” Ghost asks, amusement colouring his deep voice. “S’pose that’s ‘ow ‘e had you comin’ along purrin’ like a kitten, hm?”
The blood drains from your face as you turn to look at Kyle, but he doesn’t look guilty, or like he’d been lying to you. “Well, again, I’m perfectly happy to cooperate. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t let me go when he gets what he wants, is there?”
Johnny chuckles, exchanging a look with Ghost that’s inscrutable. “Aye, ye’ve got a point. I’m sure ye’ll have no trouble dealin’ with the old man. Born diplomat, aren’t ye?”
Your stomach twists with nerves. It’s been many years since you’ve seen John Price. You don’t know him as well as you know Ghost. You’d always found the big, faceless man strangely comforting, easy to talk at, if not to, especially when you were still young and silly. But John Price, when he fixed you with those fathomless dark blue eyes, had always rendered you speechless, turned your usually clever tongue to lead. He was a knight captain then, a natural leader of men, a hero. Not someone that your father wanted you to get close to. It’s easy for you to see why now, with your father dead in the ground and Price wearing the crown, but you were glad for any excuse to stay away.
You wish you could ask Nox to fly away with you on her back, maybe home, but maybe somewhere else entirely, where no one knows you, where you can start again without the weight of the crown hanging heavy over your head, an executioner’s ax waiting to fall.
***
Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4
#Fantasy AU#cod mw fanfiction#x reader#x fem Reader#141 x reader#Heavy Weighs the Crown#Cave Writing#This is mostly gonna be fun and light-hearted I just really enjoy fantasy and I've been watching a lot of DnD content lately#“He's always been reasonable” Kyle lies thinking fondly of his boss - the least reasonable man in the realm#Let me know if you need any content warnings in here but I feel this one's pretty light
243 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬
pairing: the worst!logan howlett x Wade’s goddaughter!reader
warnings: cussing, heavy drinking, teasing, age gap, sex toys mention, body contact, rough sex, sniffing (Logan doing what he does best), etc.
note: full story here.
yes, the reader is black, BUT we don’t really mention it in the story. we want everyone to be able to read our stories to imagine themselves.
we will be turning this into a mini-series. there is a plot and there will be dark trauma. if you’re an X-Men fan, this won’t be too dark for you (maybe).
we rushed through this story... we will do better in part two.
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!
-----
“They treat you guys this good?” Logan asked as he stalked behind y/n who was now walking to her dorm room. “Yeah,” she said with a stern tone, still upset at the man.
Logan chuckled as she finally made it to her room. “Alright — Thank you for walking me to my room without me asking. I truly feel safe,” she faked a smile with an eye roll she’s been wanting to get out for a while.
“Suck up the damn attitude, bub. Only wanted you to be safe,” he truthfully told. Y/n’s heart felt soft at his words, but she didn’t let him know that.
“Can I see your room, Bub?” The man asked, feeling obligated too. He drove and walked her all the way here. Showing her set up would be the least she could do for him.
The man didn’t know what came over him, but deep down, he wanted to get to know the young lady. Usually, people have to beg for him to give them attention, maybe even do something for that would be if it him, but right now, all he’s doing is begging her for attention.
Y/n wanted to invite the man in, feeling like he deserved it, but she quickly remembered that she hadn’t cleaned up.
“No,” she said, trying to keep it simple. “Why not? You hidin’ a boy in there?” He teased. “No, I just- I haven’t cleaned, and I hate when people see my space dirty — Come by tomorrow,” she suggested as she walked behind her door to push it closed, but he placed his foot in between the door, stopping her from shutting him out.
“C’mon — Can’t be that bad,” he said before pushing the door open. A scoff left her mouth when the man walked in. She wanted to stay angry at the man, but he was kind enough to slip off her shoes. She did the same as she stalked the man, hoping he wouldn’t find anything.
The young lady prayed to god he wouldn’t walk into her bathroom — Sadly, he did. She went to yell for him to stop, but it was too late.
Y/n cover her face in embarrassment as the man walked in. She could hear him laughing, the laugh already sounding like a tease.
“Fuckin’ hell, kid — What are you studying in? Being a freak,” he joked as he walked out, closing the door behind him. “Get out, Logan,” she said, now upset, but more embarrassed.
“Hey, c’mon, sweet cheeks — It ain’t like Ian seen toys before. I mean, back in my day, there were only a few sizes but it seems like you’ve got them all,” he teased again with a laugh.
She hated the way he mocked her with no remorse, but deep down, she liked the feeling of being embarrassed. Of being caught. She knew his mocking wasn’t to make her feel bad. It was to overpower her in some way.
“Talk to me, y/n,” Logan broke the silence after she looked away. “You ain’t gettin’ the love you need?” He asked, stepping towards her with a dark intimidating look that made her knees buck.
Y/n didn’t reply to the man. He had no right to know about her personal life. Her sex life.
“Gotta buy all these toys to feel good? These little boys here ain’t lickin’ your bean right?” He teased, chest up against hers. The man softly turned her head towards him after she looked away, suddenly feeling all the lust run through his blood.
At first, she was just a child to him. A lying one at that. She had a fucked up attitude and carried herself like Wade’s long-lost twin.
Yet, she was too hot, and too beautiful to let that turn him off. Someone would have to work a miracle to make him dislike this one.
“Look at me, bub,” the man said, her eyes still looking somewhere other then his until they finally looked at him. “Because if you ain’t gettin' the love you want, I can do it for you,” Logan went all the way in, feeling his cock pulse at the way her eyes soften.
“W-What do you know about love?” She asked, making him chuckle. “I’m a simple man, baby — Ian gotta do much to impress that pretty body for yours. You sure don’t have to do much to impress mine,” Logan said as he grabbed her hand to place it on his hard-on through his thick blue jeans.
“Your collection sizes seem to be different sizes — like you’re looking for the perfect size,” the man read the young lady like a book. “I gotcha perfect size right here, and lemme tell ya — It’s way bigger than your biggest toy,” the man mocked the sad excuse of an extra large dildo she owned.
Before she could say anything, Logan picked her up and threw her on her bed. He’s been eying the bed ever since he walked in here, hoping that wasn’t the dirty she wasn’t talking about. He wanted to come right in here and try his luck.
“Logan,” she spoke, not saying anything to follow. All she did was watch him get undressed. “Am I disappointing you?” He asked, knowing he looked exactly how she imagined. How she liked.
He never forgot when Wade mentioned the Wolverine was her favorite superhero. He wondered why for a while until he saw what she saw in him.
He knew for sure he looked good. Her eyes would glance at his muscles every once in a while, but that wasn’t the giveaway. The giveaway was the way she looks up at him all day today. Those pretty eyes sparkling when his met hers, even if it was just a few seconds.
“Never,” y/n replied. Logan instantly groaned at her voice, thankful that she was willing to go on with his actions. “That’s a good girl,” the man growled as he hovered over the woman, heavy cock dragging up her leg.
“Your pants are so thin — I can smell your cunt like you’re walkin’ around asking for it,” he said before ripping them off. “And no panties? What a fuckin’ slut,” the man chuckled as he traveled his hands up her body.
“W-Wanted to look good in my shorts” she said, knowing her ass would jiggle just right. “Well, it worked, princess — But I prefer your shorts when they’re off,”
Logan attacked the girl's lips, kissing her roughly like he’d been starving to taste her for decades. She tasted so sweet. He knew she would.
Y/n wrapped her legs around the mans waist, allowing his cock to rub up against her bud and in between her folds. “Fuck,” he sighed as he leaned his head back before going back in to kiss her.
The man would’ve loved to watch his cock slip in her cunt, but he couldn’t get his body off of her. Instead, he lifted his hips high enough, moving until his tip pushed at her entrance.
Y/n whined at the feeling, knowing he was about to fill her the most she’s ever been filled before. Without warning, he did just that.
Y/n slightly screamed at his hard bullied thrust.
“Don’t worry, baby — Gonna stretch you just right. Mold this cunt until it’s my perfect fit,” he began snapping his hips as his mouth grazed on her ear.
“Gonna stay at Wade’s place, just for you — Fuck — Now I gotta tell the little bastard that you are a good reason to stay,”
Y/n moaned, nails now digging into his back at his words. The man groaned loudly, loving the slight pain she gave him. He was certain that anything y/n wanted to do to him, he’d enjoy. As long as he gets a taste of her soaking cunt right after.
“C-Cumming,” y/n cried out, gushing all over his cock. Then the man chuckled at how easier it was to fuck into her cunt now. The young girl was still tight, but her wetness made the feeling better.
“L-Lo,” y/n stuttered, not being able to say the man’s full name. When she fucked herself with toys, she mostly thinks about the man and how good Logan would feel in her. How he’d come back from a mission just to fill her up.
“Yeah, bub, You like it? Like my old cock up your pussy? Gonna tell the whole world how good I fuck you after this?” Logan snapped his hips hard, knowing y/n’s mind was slowly fading away.
“So fuckin’ dumb on my cock,” Logan grinned down at the girl. “Gonna have to come by here every day. Scare the boys away because I know for a fact, you bring ‘em up in here — I smell them,” Logan’s voice instantly seemed angry.
Y/n wasn’t sure until the man was upset until he leaned up and gripped her waist on both sides.
“W-What? I don’t do that,” she lied, and that was a mistake. She had been pounded so dumb, she forgot he had enhanced smelling.
“You’re in for one, bub,” Logan’s warned as his nails dug into y/n sides before he pulled her into his hard pounds. He was knocking the wind out of her repeatedly.
Y/n tried pushing herself back, but she could barely keep herself together. The moans and crying that came from her mouth, egged the huge muscular man on.
Watching her body jolt at each thrust and her tits bounce under her shirt, made him think about the future days he’ll be touched all over here.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” the man began to sweat. He hasn’t fucked this hard in a while. The load he’s about to give her will fill her cunt up to the fullest.
“Logan,” y/n moaned, head throwing back as another orgasm washed over her body. The man’s hips stuttered, watching her body arch as he kept her in place. The pulls into his thrust only made him closer.
“Y-You can’t be seen with me. I-I can end up hurting you,” y/n spoke, feeling like she needed to say something, but she was struggling. “Thought you said that’s how life is,” Logan reminded her.
“T-This is different — He can hurt you,” she said felt guilty for telling him so late. “I doubt anyone can hurt me,” he smiled down at her. Logan instantly realized that the girl was actually terrified.
“H-He’ll do anything to hurt me,” Y/n teared up as she lifted her hands to his face. “Then I’ll end him so he won’t get the chance to hurt you again,” the man said, ready to get at any college student who made her feel this fear.
Y/n pulled Logan into a tight hug, rolling her hips up into his thrust. She was scared, but soon felt safe again. Logan could handle the heat that was coming. He’s the Wolverine. He helps people. He helped Wade save his world.
He could save y/n’s world. He can save her peace. He can save her.
Logan bite down on y/n's neck, trying to form love marks as his cock twitched around her walls. The thought of her needing him, made him feel good. He's always needed someone to depend on him, but this felt different.
Logan had a choice to leave, but he's choosing to stay and make y/n understand she's too young and pretty to be going through a rough time with a man.
"Gonna cum, bub," the man's voice muffled into her neck as he pulled her closer. Y/n's walls clenched around the man’s length, sucking him in tightly. "F-Fuck," the man slightly moaned right before he spilled into y/n, filling her up until she couldn't hold his seed anymore.
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
#22.2 Tags
Endorsi tapped her shoe impatiently. "And the prize is?"
"You can exchange it for some points, or use these tags to get private time with a person of your choice." Mask winked at no one in particular. "I know some of you are friends with Bam and Grace. And given that you haven't seen them for years, perhaps you might have something that needs to be said privately. There will be a buffet held after the game, and everyone can talk and socialize freely then. But let me tell you this; the chance of you having a private face to face conversation with them after today will be very low. So be sure to use this opportunity well."
Endorsi suddenly remembered the date that Bam owed her. Maybe this could be her chance? Having Bam for herself sounded fair enough to be considered a date. She wondered how much Bam had changed, and she was curious if she still held the same feelings towards him. Guess she would find out soon.
"Note that they're only valid until today. The white tags are worth three minutes each, while the black ones are worth ten minutes."
Endorsi wanted to throw hands. "The heck?! That's too short!" She quickly decided that the private date time wasn't worth it.
"Not interested." Anaak stated plainly, having the same thought.
"Oh, that's not all." Mask called out his nearby lighthouse and the screen lit up. "I did say that these tags could also be exchanged for some points."
The amounts displayed on Mask's lighthouse made Endorsi's eyes bulge. Sure, it was still comparable to her monthly earnings, but one day of photoshoots wasn't even worth that much. This guy must be filthy rich in order to be able to give out much. "However, there will only be four black stickers in total."
She hadn't even started to do the math when Shibisu raised his hand. "Why four? There are six people on your team."
"Good question." Mask motioned to himself and the other three guys that she didn't bother to remember the names of. "Only us four will participate in the tag game. Grace and Bam don't have tickets because they have a different role."
Endorsi raised an eyebrow, not that she actually cared.
"Remember that those that don't have the tag during the game will be unable to move? Grace and Bam are in charge of it. They will also make sure that this game will not cause any major casualties to the players."
Endorsi suddenly remembered that Bam could use reverse flow control. Grace however…she didn't know much about him. She realized that Grace was surprisingly tight-lipped about his past, for someone who was bad at lying. Thinking back about it, he was absent during the crown game, and he hadn't shown anything noteworthy during the hide and seek game. Bam often bragged about how Grace helped him in class, though, so maybe he was that capable? It wasn't so hard to believe; Grace always looked so self-assured and dependable.
However, there was something different about how he treated her compared to the others, like how he quickly looked away when she caught his gaze, or how he was slightly nervous when talking to her. But she always reasoned that it was only natural that men would fall for her beauty and status, since she was a Jahad princess and all. When she took into account that Grace was already taken, it made even more sense on why he was so awkward and conflicted when interacting with her. She had to admit it was really fun to tease him back then, though she never called him out on it.
"Are there any other questions?" Mask asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Khun and Isu asked for some clarifications on the rules, but Endorsi tuned them out, too busy indulging in the thought of the prize points. One black and one white tag should be enough to buy the designer dress she saw the other day. And since Laure most likely wasn’t interested in anything other than sleep, could she ask him to give her his tag so she could use it with Grace? It would be really fun to take Grace away from Mask and make him jealous. Speaking of Mask…
"Five minutes–" Endorsi caught his words– "to discuss amongst yourselves before I start the game."
One of the floating blue lighthouses started a five-minute countdown, and Khun called everyone to gather. However, Endorsi decided to spare a glance to where Mask went.
She saw Mask greeted his team who had started doing warm up moves, while some were not so subtly glancing in her direction. Mask then started typing on his lighthouse, and she saw the training room slowly turned into a fighting stage with just a few commands of his hands. The barrier that covered the room pulsed as if being strengthened, moving platforms and obstacles were created out of thin air–
Khun cleared his throat, and Endorsi noticed she wasn't the only one that was watching the room transformation unfold. "Okay. Listen up everyone."
Masterlist
Previous
Next
Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3
☕ Buy me coffee ☕
#we found out what grace and bam are up to. yay#and yes agni's team is very outnumbered. 4 vs 8. I wonder how this game will turn out#anyway the main event is actually on the buffet time. the game really just for ice breaking. this is a really long arc i tell you#btw there will be no update next week because i have something else to post on 26th. tsotsc will be back on the week after ;D#tower of god#tog#two sides of the same coin fic#my fic#the 25th baam#the 25th bam#jue viole grace#koon#khun a.a#khun aguero agnis#khunbam#koonbaam#bamxkhun#shibisu#ship leesoo#hatz#rak wraithraiser#endorsi jahad#endorsi#phonsekal laure
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
im watching a danish 1918 silent film called "himmelskibet" (the sky ship/spaceship) and it's interesting from several perspectives
for one, i enjoy the idea that these people have the notion of going to space and build a spaceship (an incredibly charming spaceship) in 2 years and it works! lifts ve-e-e-e-r-y slowly out of the atmosphere over the course of several days
for two, they're going to mars. which in 1918 reads differently im sure, than in 2024 and the rich colonialism wet dream -- also because in this movie mars is in fact populated, so it's actually not colonialist in the way it might have been x amount of years later in space-exploration cinema and the martians are depicted as being far more civilised (and also more... back-to-the-earth, we'll get to all of That) than earthlings, which is interesting
for three, they build the spaceship and point it towards mars, but don't have the tools to gauge how long it'll take to actually get there -- they calculate a presumed date before they leave, but whilst on the spaceship just have no idea where they are? this isn't deep, it's just funny to me
point the fourth. mars is populated. it's populated by a bunch of very human-looking aliens, because it's 1918 and the only difference between us and aliens is that the aliens are fruitarian hippies who all wear long robes (yeah, i can buy that) who have overcome everything bad that humanity currently is. the message is a hopeful one, with the lead martian saying "what we are, you will become"
the martian society is presented as a utopia. they're fruitarians, they've got no crime, no violence, and in what feels like some of the most long-lasting of political ideas, when the astronauts bring violence with them, they are made to think about it, but not punished (and there's some christian repent vibes to it, but it's not too egregious as to not work as concept -- the movie as a whole is very christian in feel though) and the protagonist considers how evil it is to throw people into prisons on earth. there's also a whole thing about embracing/celebrating death, rather than fearing it, which i wanna roll around in my head for a bit
but... the film tries very hard to juxtapose this utopian ideal with earth, however can't figure out how to make that work in imagery, or even put its finger on what is actually wrong with earth society that violence abounds in the first place (you'd think there might be some wwi imagery in there, but no, not a one -- its way of "showing violence" is random young well-dressed people on the street assaulting an elderly man and laughing, or smoking and dancing, or implied sex before marriage...)
all the scientists/leaders on mars are men, while the women... idk, frolic in beautiful dresses (there are a couple of interesting women in this, but they're not The Thinkers, they're The Feelers). they're all white and christian (if, danish christians rather than american christians). they're all thin and able-bodied and "beautiful." there's a scene where the women dance "a chastity dance." it begs the eternal question of "wait is this actually portraying a white supremacist eugenics cult?" WHICH is not what the movie wants to say, it very much wants to say something about anti-violence idealism as the future for humanity, it's like. got its heart in the right place, even if the final messaging is "we take this woman from a higher culture and within her lie the seeds for a superior earth," which hmm.. yeah. ive. ive heard things like that said before. not about a martian
it's interesting what kind of shorthand we have for storytelling. how the people making this movie undoubtedly were trying to think of the most visually effective way of conveying utopia, and how that imagery is mainly used today to make a viewer go "uh oh" to the extent that i almost briefly wondered if there was going to be another shoe about to drop, even though the movie hadn't been going in that direction at all
very much enjoyed it on the whole though. a moment in time. a very very early scifi film. ye olde danish text
And the most important thing.
Behold A Spaceship:
#himmelskibet#cinema#movies#danish cinema#scifi#science fiction#theres a part two to this movie where the man who stayed behind discovers that the superior martians have been cannibalising#all the sibling species on the planet or smthn#different tone to what the original conveys but hey#really a curio for 1918 you'd really think there might be some direct politics related to wwi but it just doesn't feel like it did#i'd say maybe it wanted to be escapism but then why be about this subject matter yaknow?#could be it landed more directly in 1918 regardless ofc
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
No such thing as dumb questions, so might as well ask it…
Advice for one starting out in reenactment (specifically American Revolution/18th century) and I don’t mean acting - I mean things new people should know?
Great to see other people getting involved with reenactment—hope your search is going well!! Certainly not a dumb question—as I am definitely still a reenactment beginner myself, relatively speaking, this stuff is still fresh in my mind and relevant to me as well. Here's a couple things I can think of off the top of my head:
I'm gonna start with the unfortunate safety caveat: reenactment, as a hobby, is not the most accepting one out there. It's probably 85% middle-aged white dudes who have been doing this for like 20 years, and I'm not going to lie and say that it's a super inclusive environment. If you're queer, non-male, or non-white there is a very real possibility that you might encounter some Bad Opinions. There are definitely units out there who are assholes about ""historical accuracy"" and don't want, for example, women/non-males in their ranks because ""it's not historically accurate."" This is a flimsy excuse for bigotry. If any of it was truly historically accurate, no one over the age of, like, 25 would be allowed to participate, and we'd all have dysentery—which is to say, if they're assholes, find another unit. There are more accepting ones. The community is gradually becoming more diverse and more inclusive, slowly but steadily, and if you don't feel safe in your unit, there's definitely a better one out there.
In my experience, I definitely don't feel unsafe in my own unit, buuuut there are definitely guys who I would avoid talking politics with. That being said, I also think we have an awesome group of probably the queerest fifers in the British Brigade, and more than one well-intentioned dad who I absolutely trust to accept my queerness. Reenactment is a mixed bag, but again, you can definitely find the right people, and I hope you don't settle for less.
Next thing I would say is probably one of the first things you’ll hear after joining a unit: don’t buy anything without the approval of your unit! In all honesty I would say you probably don’t have to worry much about assembling a kit at all, initially—most units have spare gear that they loan out to people, often for long periods, so that they can get out on the field and start having fun as fast as possible. Now it’s probably going to be the old stuff that’s been in someone’s basement for ten years, but it gives you the time to put together your own stuff at your own pace (and reenactment gear is not cheap, so it saves you having to blow a whole lot of money at once, that’s for sure). If you’re hoping to procure anything yourself, ask someone, ideally a commanding officer, before you buy—not only to make sure you buy the right thing, but also because there’s a good chance someone in the unit might either be able to give you one, help you make one, or know a guy who could. A lot of reenactment is making your own stuff, fixing up hand me downs, and trading stuff around the unit (at my last event I straight up switched shoes with another fifer from my regiment…) so there are definitely less expensive (and in a sense, more accurate) ways to go about it.
Another thing I would say as a reassurance, if you’re anything like me and Generally Anxious about doing new things, especially things where everyone has been doing this for years and know a lot of things you don’t, and also especially if you’re by yourself: it may be “battle,” but the stakes are low here. My favorite way to look at reenactment is as a bunch of grown men dressing up to play war. As part of field music I was super nervous about my “performance” at my first event—it was before I had really mastered the art of, you know, consistently getting sound out of my instrument—only to discover that it really, really didn’t matter that much. Having a whole bunch of experienced people around means that you are almost never left without someone to turn to for help. As long as you’re trying your best to play your part, that’s really all anyone expects from you as a new member—you learn as you go, and you learn by doing.
And that kind of brings me to what I think is the most important thing you can do as a reenactor: be willing to learn. If there’s one thing I really respect about the reenactment community, it’s that they’re very, very knowledgeable. Everyone is here because they’re interested in the history and they love doing this, and a good portion of them are already retired and spend, like, all their time researching this stuff in order to present the most accurate impressions. The best units, in my opinion, are the ones that prioritize historical accuracy in their presentations—not in an exclusionary way, but in a way that makes that accuracy as accessible as possible. In my experience all you have to do to make a good impression is show up, be a decent person, and express interest—these guys love when young people want to get involved, and they do these events specifically so they can rattle on about niche history stuff to people who want to listen. Learning from them will help you with your impression, of course, but it’s also just such a wealth of highly specific knowledge from people who are super eager to talk about it. It’s hard not to learn something from them.
Anyway, that’s some of the best “beginner” stuff I’ve learned so far—I have another event coming up this weekend (very exciting) so I expect to learn some more. If you want more specific suggestions for a first event or something I’d be happy to come up with some stuff but I’m assuming this was a more general question. Either way, hope this was helpful and best of luck in your reenactment endeavors!
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
0-44 on the ask game. I'm nosy and even though I know the answer to several of those questions I'm not going to type out every single number individually.
(plz feel free to ignore this ask lol I don't seriously expect you to type all that out even tho I'd read it)
killing you killing you killing you
0: Height? 5'0"
1: Virgin? You know the answer to this
2: Shoe size? Anywhere from Womens 5 to 9
3: Do you smoke? Nope
4: Do you drink? Occasionally
5: Do you take drugs? Nope. But fun fact, I had to take painkillers when I was little and they altered my taste buds
6: Age you get mistaken for? Well when I was like 11-12 I would get mistaken for 16. Now I think most people assume I'm around 18 just because I'm in advanced classes? IDK though
7: Have tattoos? Nay, my liege
8: Want any tattoos? I have mixed feelings on the morality of tattoos, but I know what I would get if I were to get some
9: Got any piercings? Just basic lobe piercings. I'm currently trying to convince my parents to let me get a second lobe piercing
10: Want any piercings? Yes
11: Best friend? Arnold Schwarzenegger
12: Relationship status? Single/married to more people than I can count
13: Biggest turn ons? I'm not answering this. (voice.)
14: Biggest turn offs? I'm not answering this
15: Favorite movie? 10 Things I Hate About You, Much Ado About Nothing, The Princess Bride, The Italian Job
16: I’ll love you if... you don't make fun of me for being excited for something. Or if you tell me something reminded you of me.
17: Someone you miss? My fake grandfather
18: Most traumatic experience? I'm not answering this, bestie
19: A fact about your personality... I'm actually really good at giving advice. I wasn't even aware of this until I accurately predicted exactly what would happen to multiple of my friends/their relationships
20: What I hate most about myself... my pride. I have a massive ego because I'm really smart and I know it.
21: What I love most about myself... IDK man.
22: What I want to be when I get older... A Dominican Sister
23: My relationship with my sibling(s)... They're good! It hasn't always been like this, but we're getting better
24: My relationship with my parent(s)... Always good with my dad, iffy with my mom
25: My idea of a perfect date... Truthfully I don't know. My parents didn't date before they got engaged, so dating has always seemed kind of odd to me.
26: My biggest pet peeves... People who buy crocheted stuff from fast fashion stores. I hate fast fashion in general, but crochet can ONLY be done by a human, so it's basically guaranteed that you're buying the product of slave-labor.
27: A description of the girl/boy I like
28: A description of the person I dislike the most... I actually am really bad at disliking people. Every single person who I've met and started out disliking I eventually came to like for one reason or another.
29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend... uhhh. Boredom? IDK. I used to be a bit of a pathological liar, but I can't think of a recent lie I've told a friend
30: What I hate the most about work/school... bad seminars
31: What your last text message says... The most recent thing I sent someone (you) was "I did read 1.5 books from HTTYD"
32: What words upset me the most... huh, IDK. I can't think of any off the top of my head
33: What words make me feel the best about myself... This one is hard because I'm in this weird phase where I don't want my accomplishments recognized, and compliments in general frustrate me. I don't know why this is.
34: What I find attractive in women... Kindness that isn't wet-blanketness
35: What I find attractive in men... Warmness. Which, granted, sound like kindness but it isn't. (for legal reasons my answers to both this question and the previous one are purely platonic and subject to change)
36: Where I would like to live... a convent
37: One of my insecurities... My weight. I am going to the gym 2-4 times a week now, though, so I'm working on it.
38: My childhood career choice... a nun
39: My favorite ice cream flavor... Cookie Dough
40: Who wish I could be... a better person
41: Where I want to be right now... right where I am (that is, my bed)
42: The last thing I ate... a brownie
43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately... Dobby
44: A random fact about anything... I'm currently trying to figure out how to make a cross-stitch that captures the vibe of No Longer You from Epic the Musical
For the record, you already knew at least half of these so I truly don't know why I bothered doing this.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Post: Turning bedsheets into a wardrobe and other op shop thoughts
Originally posted on my blog: https://garaksapprentice.blogspot.com/2023/09/turning-bedsheets-into-wardrobe.html
The Dilemma
When it comes to my clothes, I'm a remarkably lazy snob.
I want things that fit well. (This isn't an unreasonable thing to want, I feel.) I want comfortable fabrics that breathe, and don't end up smelling like a billy goat slept on them. (I swear, since starting T, I strip my shirts more often than I ever had to strip the cloth nappies.)
I want colours - black and white and grey don't count - that don't make me look dead. (When did all the t-shirts in the men's section become navy and olive?) And I want them to last longer than six months before they start a part-time internship in the mending box.
(The pile doth wax and the pile doth wane, but there's always a bloody pile.)
This short list is surprisingly difficult to achieve, off the rack. Anything that fits my shoulders won't fit my chest, and vice versa. The armscye is usually either comically large, or too small to fit my biceps. And pants? Let's just not go there. (Belts help. Kind of.)
I really dislike how polyester and other synthetics breathe (they don't), so I avoid them whenever I can. It's getting much harder to find clothes made of 100% natural fibres, whether new or second-hand.
Colours I have slightly more luck with - or I would, if the first two things didn't get in the way. Longevity is always an utter crapshoot. (Though I've found that wovens last longer than t-shirts.)
The Solution
Luckily, I know how to sew. I used to do it for a living. (Not clothes, mind - baby carriers. More structural, less technically complex.) My possess all the basic tools, a few of the extras, and a reasonable set of skills.
(I've been making clothes for the kids for years - they care a lot less about style and fit. And skirts are easy.)
So I'm taking a two-pronged approach to this dilemma. I'm practicing making things I actually like and will wear, and religiously patching my current wardrobe while I make replacements.
Making clothes, naturally, requires material. So instead of going to the op shop for clothes, I'm going for fabric. (I stopped buying new years ago, except for underwear, shoes, and the occasional really high quality item from places that at least pretend to pay their garment workers.) But my favourite deal-hunting section isn't sewing/craft - it's the linens.
Wait, what? Why?
Thrift store fabrics usually can't tell you what they're made from. (The staff get narky when you try to burn test the goods, sadly.) Plus there's just not that much of it. Bedding, tablecloths etc are donated far more frequently, and often still have their tags on them.
Now, you do have check for wear. Some donations look brand new, some have had a long life already. Check for pilling or thinner areas, especially in the middle of bedsheets (fitted ones are worse for this than flats). It's easier if you can hold things up to the light. Usually things in worse condition will be priced lower, but not always.
Why not buy clothes six sizes too large and chop them up to make new stuff?
I mean, you can. It's certainly a common choice, what with all the "thrift upcycle/refashion" videos and blogs and such out there dedicated to it. I personally don't, for the following reasons.
Care for people: I take the permaculture ethics seriously.
Have you ever really looked at the racks in an op shop? Piles of sizes S-L, much less outside of that. The bigger your meatsuit, the harder it is to find things that have a hope of fitting. Too bad if you hate stripes, or the fabric is itchy - if there's only two things in your size, then that's the choice you have. It sucks. (I am in no way body shaming here. Bodies do a lot of hard work for the people who live in them, and no one gets to judge anyone else's.)
I'm both outside the common sizes, and a weird enough shape to have trouble besides. And I've been broke enough that op shop clothes were a necessity, not a choice. I know what it's like to have to take what I could get as long as it fit "enough".
To me it is deeply unethical to take the few decent garments that are available for plus sized people, chop them up, and make something for me to wear out of them, when I can just as easily start with a sheet or a table cloth and achieve a similar result.
Efficient energy planning: I have limited time and brainpower available, and sometimes my executive dysfunction is bad. Like, "I'm eating peanut butter out of the jar for dinner because my brain has stopped" levels of bad.
Cutting up a garment, taking off buttons, and so on, adds several extra steps to a sewing project. Sometimes that's fine - in those situations, I have plenty of old clothes in the stash. More often, though, those extra steps completely derail me.
So I find it easier to start a project with what is essentially yardage. Even when I have to cut around stains, rips, or worn spots, it uses less cognitive capacity.
I also prefer rectangularly cut garments, and zero waste patterns that have you draw directly onto the fabric. These work better on something that started out life as a rectangle.
Use biological resources: Natural fibres are renewable. Mined ones are not. Where I can, I use the former. That's not to say I never use things with synthetic content - it's technically possible, but in practice hard as hell.
Produce no waste: I've still got a sizeable stash of acrylic knitting yarns, plus other bits and bobs, hanging around from before I made this commitment. Throwing them out or donating them (ie making them someone else's problem) won't actually fix things; I simply use them in appropriate projects, and when I replace them, I do so with things that fit my current ethical stance and needs.
But sheets are all plain white and boring!
I can see why you might think that. TV has done a lot of false advertising on that point. It is false. Trust me.
(Ignore the movies. Real sheets come in just about every colour you can think of.)
But, I know not everyone likes plain colours. What if you're madly in love with prints, or shirts with witty slogans on them? Well, besides the growing number of fancy sheets out there, might I interest you in the doona covers?
(The top right and bottom left are ex-doona covers. The rest are sheets.)
Or the fine art of embroidery?
(I shall have the most glorious shirt sleeves when I finish embroidering them.)
Or fabric painting?
(This is technically a mend, but I totally plan on doing similar to brand new things I make.)
Or the many different styles of natural dyeing?
(Soursobs from the local park, gently turning into dye liquor for some dyeing experiments.)
Or, if you've got lots of smaller or oddly shaped pieces of fabric hanging around, maybe some patchwork (all YouTube links)? It's not just coats and dressing gowns, either - you can patchwork jeans, trousers, dresses, shirts and more.
The point here is that fabric (and buttons, zips, thread, etc) doesn't have to be a thing you buy brand new. With time, patience, and a bit of luck, you can find everything you need to create great things second hand.
(Maybe I'll write a future post breaking down the costs of some of the things I've made...)
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
Revenge time ✨✨
0:Height
1:Virgin?
2:Shoe size
3:Do you smoke?
4:Do you drink?
5:Do you take drugs?
6:Age you get mistaken for
7:Have tattoos?
8:Want any tattoos?
9:Got any piercings?
10:Want any piercings?
11:Best friend?
12:Relationship status
13:Biggest turn ons
14:Biggest turn offs
15:Favorite movie
16:I’ll love you if
17:Someone you miss
18:Most traumatic experience
19:A fact about your personality
20:What I hate most about myself
21:What I love most about myself
22:What I want to be when I get older
23:My relationship with my sibling(s)
24:My relationship with my parent(s)
25:My idea of a perfect date
26:My biggest pet peeves
27:A description of the girl/boy I like
28:A description of the person I dislike the most
29:A reason I’ve lied to a friend
30:What I hate the most about work/school
31:What your last text message says
32:What words upset me the most
33:What words make me feel the best about myself
34:What I find attractive in women
35:What I find attractive in men
36:Where I would like to live
37:One of my insecurities
38:My childhood career choice
39:My favorite ice cream flavor
40:Who wish I could be
41:Where I want to be right now
42:The last thing I ate
43:Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately
44:A random fact about anything
🤭✨😌.
What?? Vengeance??? I never saw this one coming (wink emoji)
0:Height: 5"7
1:Virgin?: Yes. #waitingtillmarriagegang
2:Shoe size: Why are you buying me shoes?????
3:Do you smoke?: Absolutely not. Smoking = Murder (of both yourself and others)
4:Do you drink?: Ewww no.
5:Do you take drugs?: Ewwwwwww no.
6:Age you get mistaken for: Anywhere from 12 - 14 (I'll be sixteen in April; buy me a gift; preferably a books)
7:Have tattoos? No.
8:Want any tattoos?: I'm allergic to physical pain lol
9:Got any piercings? Did you not here about the physical pain???
10:Want any piercings? Hello! My allergy! Are you not paying any attention!?
11:Best friend? @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @writingwitch007, @lavenderimaginedher, @nyxxxxxxxx, @slowlyg0ld, @quickslvxr, @technically-bean, @just-another-godless-god (i can't ever remember you url correctly lol) and all the rest of my moots <3
12:Relationship status: Complicated....
13:Biggest turn ons: smiles, hyperfixations, dramaticness but maintaining the ability to be chill, bright eyes (not like color; theres something about certain people that makes there eyes bright), long hair (idkw)
14:Biggest turn offs: Hubris, being condescending, the stupid type of stupid like not cute stupid but mean stupid, fake people,
15:Favorite movie: Enola Holmes <3
16: I’ll love you if you are alive lol. As far as agape love is you breathing is enough. As far as philia/ludus is concerned be nice and funny
17:Someone you miss: A lot of people...
18: Most traumatic experience: The moment when i was 5 when i realized adults aren't perfect. 5 was way to young imo.
19:A fact about your personality: I'm loyal. You need to talk to someone im there.
20:What I hate most about myself: I have trouble focusing on things im uninterested in doing.
21:What I love most about myself: I know a lot about a lot. And I'm very passionate.
22:What I want to be when I get older: actor, youth pastor, author, poet, philosopher, revolutionary, essayist, traveler, director, playwright, theologian, historian, theorist. Any of those are fine by me.
23:My relationship with my sibling(s): On and off. Probably as good and bad as most other relationships.
24:My relationship with my parent(s): idk. sometimes it seems good sometimes i wish i was running away. and whenever i get upset with my parents i can't help but think of so many of my friends with even worse parental lives so idk.
25:My idea of a perfect date: I've never been on a date but i'd love candles, outide eating, talking, reading. Fairy Lights!!!
26:My biggest pet peeves: People saying im rude. Like the frick! You have no idea what I'm not saying and then you argue i say to much. (roll eyes emoji)
27:A description of the girl/boy I like: idk my relationship life is complicated at the moment lol. Most of the girls i've ever liked were funny, nice and had long brown or black hair.
28:A description of the person I dislike the most: i dislike a lot of people. All of them are cheaters and liars.
29:A reason I’ve lied to a friend: I told him that his relationship with this girl would work.
30:What I hate the most about work/school: It's not taught correctly lol. When the school system has taught you that Shakespeare is boring you know you've done something wrong. The way Shakespeare was the Lin Manuel Miranda of the the 15 and 1600's. Also Greek mythology is basically the MCU and Roman Mythology is the DC universe lol. I've tangented a bit. The point is literature is cool (Jane Austen is hilarious) and history is anything but boring if only they were taught correctly.
31:What your last text message says: do dms count? if so: "hiiiiiiii [girl's name]" if not: "Got it. Good morning <3"
32:What words upset me the most: Basically anyone saying i need to "man up" or "control my emotions".
33:What words make me feel the best about myself: "i'm proud of you" "nobody's perfect" "you look amazing"
34:What I find attractive in women: Be honest, open, kind, funny, loyal, friendly, brave, beautiful (inside more than out), hopeful etc.
35:What I find attractive in men: I'm straight (nobody listen to anything @nyxxxxxxxx tells you) but I am a sucker for dark messy hair. Look up Timothée Hal Chalamet. oh my goshhhhhhh.
36:Where I would like to live: Somewhere beautiful. Simple as that.
37:One of my insecurities: Couldn't pick one so - my physical appearance, being imperfect, letting people down and i have huge anxiety about upsetting people or infringing on their boundries.
38:My childhood career choice: Pastor
39:My favorite ice cream flavor: Cookies and Creme; Starberry and Creme
40:Who wish I could be: Just me.
41:Where I want to be right now: Anywhere beautiful.
42:The last thing I ate: A valentine's day reese cup from my sister <3
43:Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately: idk my moots? Yall are wonderful lol
44:A random fact about anything: I'm a shipper in denial lol
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Show Me - BWS
Hey, everyone. I hope you are all doing well today and that it was a great Monday. While I was at the gym, this fic came to my mind. I really want to improve on my writing, so I'm open to any feedback or requests.
Hope you enjoy this. I loved writing it. I'm not really happy with the title. I didn't want to label it, so I'm sticking with this at the moment. Sorry if there is any spelling mistake or grammar. Enjoy and stay safe.
Warnkng: There some cursing
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
"The way he was staring at you, I didn't like one bit. Like there were other people in the bar who were singke why was staring at you like that, what an idiot"
Said Brad walking in to the flat removing his coat and placing it on the sofa and then he removed his shoes as he entered the flat you walked ahead removing the high heels that were wearing your feet were very sore.
Brad carried, reflecting on what happened during the night out.
"He was undressing you throughout the whole night, imagining how you would be without anything on. I know that look I have seen it before in clubs"
He said to you as you sat down on the chair seeing how bad your feet were as they were red and swollen.
"Well, you can't really control any of mens eyes now, can you Brad"?
You say to him sarcastically smiling at him then removing tha earrings you had on while making your way to the shared bathroom to tale out your hair and remove the amount of make up you had on it was becoming very heavy and greasy which meant it was time to remove it all.
As you both entered the room, you sat down in front of your dressing table, seeing how you left it in a meas. Brushes and pallets were left out, unworn jewellery left to one side. You noticed Brad was also in the room now as he carried on remembering the images that he witnessed during the night.
"Be honest with me you liked it, didn't you? You loved the way he looked at you the amount of attention he was giving you"
Brad looked at you with his dark brown eyes with his neck vein was on show as he began to raise his voice you remembered is the amount of alcohol he drank which didn't really help with the situation which made worry about the neighbour as you thought that they were able to hear you.
"Are you feeling alright? Cause you sound fucking mad"
You then turned around to face him.
"What the fuck do you think I am"? You say to him.
"I don't really know anymore why don't you tell me go on I'm listening"
He says while leaning against the bed gazing at you.
"I can't even believe what you're saying, Bradley," you say to him while your mouth is left parted.
You didn't like the way he was acting the number of times you explained to him the conversation that you had with this guy it meant nothing to you it was another guy who you didn't have feelings for what so ever. There was only one man for you, and that was Brad, of course, when he was jealous it was one of the side of him you really didn't like.
"Why did you speak to him? Seriously, wasn't I enough for you tonight, Y/N? " He said, "Did you like the small interaction you both shared?" He said to you sarcastically, but inside, it really bothered him as the jealousy began to grow inside of him.
"OK, let explain he offered to buy me a drink, which, in fact, I politely refused, informing him that I am taken cause I already have someone who can buy me millions of drinks"
You explained and now you were the one who was raising your voice at him as you were arguing over something so small and pointless you weren't really fussed about the neighbours at this point but still you worried if they would hear the argument that the pair of you were having.
"I even told him multiple times that I have a boyfriend"
You explained, and now you were the one who was raising your voice at him.
"I even told him multiple times that I have a boyfriend, but now I am not even sure."
You said to him pushing the tears that began to flood up your eyes.
"Do you have what?"
He asked, looking very confused.
"Do I still have a boyfriend? Cause honestly, it doesn't feel like it. My so called boyfriend didn't even look at me all night or even found time during the night to look at me or compliment me you used to do it every night do all those things Brad you always made me feel special loved. Where is that man, the man I fell in love with. You really need to tell me cause I am not sure why my boyfriend didn't come and dance with me just like we used to"
You paused for a few seconds, facing back to the mirror while Brad remained quiet. You looked at the makeup, which began to vanish from your eyes, so then you resumed, removing all the products you had on your face.
"So yes, to answer your questions, I did appreciate him taking the time staring at me and admiring me the way I looked. The issue was he wasn't you Brad he was just another person"
You said to him, and all he did was sit and listen to what you had to say with arms folded. He still remained silent, shocked with the words you had spoken.
The jealousy drowning every inch of him, his chest moving fast almost if he ran a marathon. His hands were clunched together, which then made its way to his hair, his fingers running through each strand of hair.
Brad couldn't accept the words you have said that you liked to be looked at by other men that weren't him the only man who look at you admiring every inch of your body was him and him only everyone else was definitely off limits.
He never trusted others who were around the bar they were thinking all sorts of things to do with you, which were, of course, restricted. They could stare and attempt to make a move on you but what he wanted to see is how other men in the bar try their very best to have you to make you feel the pleasure that he gave you did the others have the guts to do that with you.
It was definitely a gamble be he was definitely aware you wouldn't really give a fuck about them, always leaving them or making up an excuse and not bother coming back but the more he kept considering if which made him feel something he wasn't really capable to know about.
The words the bickering played inside his head constantly, but it was a side that he never really saw in you, but he loved it.
He then got up from the bed and walked over to you.
"I actually have a better idea. Why did you even come back home with me? you could have gone home with him"
He said you rolled your eyes once at the comment that was made, but it didn't end there as he carried on saying these words in your ear.
"Oh I bet you would liked that wouldn't you?" He said while he huffed.
You felt his breath hitting your ear you aimed to move away from, but he was too fast to grab a hold of your arm.
He then pressed his chest against your back, pushed the hair away from your neck to leave small sweet kisses along your soft, smooth fragrance neck, and to again whisper something in your ears.
"He wouldn't really know what would give you the greatest pleasure he wouldn't know how to make your legs shake like the way I do"
His hands then changed their course they were now travelling down to your legs while you watched his sparkling brown eyes closely while he left kisses down your neck. Once again, you watched the reflection glare back at you.
He then spoken again in a gentle voice.
"He wouldn't really know how you love it the most slowly, calm deep and passionately"
He said to you while his body was glued to yours, which you were now trapped between his warn body and the dressing table which stood in front of you.
"Why don't you fuck yourself"
Say to him, falling into his pressing as his hips grinded into you. You saw him smirking as he moved his hands up to the zipper of your red dress. One strap had fallen, revealing your skin he then let the dress fall to the ground.
"Go then Simpson show me who can fuck me best"
You say to him angrily.
"Trust me, you will be begging for more"
He said as be got to work...
#brad simpson#brad simpson imagine#the vamps imagine#bradley simpson#bradley simpson imagine#the vamps#brad simpson x reader#bradley will simpson#tumblr milestone
17 notes
·
View notes