Tumgik
#If you see the reference i tossed in there i adore and cherish you
maiko-coy · 2 years
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Messin' around in discord with some stinkies /lh and somehow created an eclipse-sona, which escalated into creating a reference sheet for them aaa
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fizzyxcustard · 3 years
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Misunderstanding.
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Masterlist of all fics are here
Fandom: The Hobbit
Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, angst, brief/mild sexual references
Summary: From this imagine Thorin notices that you have been more distant recently, spending a lot of time away from him and he notices that you shy away when in the company of a male Dwarf called Hodel. He begins to have suspicions that you are being unfaithful and confronts you. 
Comments: If you would like to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know as I’m gradually creating a new one. Enjoy!
Thorin watched you from across the room. Yet again you were conversing with Hodel, one of the councilmen. The whispers and secrecy that you were both exhibiting was making Thorin frustrated. The King took a deep inhale of breath and closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect his thoughts. 
“Are you ready?” Thorin asked curtly, the frustration still taking hold of him. 
You looked at your husband, surprised by his sudden appearance. “Oh, I’m sorry, my love,” you replied, touching his arm. “I have a few things to discuss with Hodel. I shouldn’t be any more than an hour. I’ll meet you up in our chambers shortly.” 
“Fine,” Thorin half hissed. 
***
Things didn’t get much better for Thorin. Over a span of two weeks you were missing for dinner. Until one evening, Thorin had had enough and flung all of the food and glasses from the table. Everything smashed upon the stone floor, paired with the guttural shouts of anger from the King. 
Thorin was well aware that unfaithfulness was rampant in your society, and not being of the Dwarf race, you had no idea of how important loyalty was. Every relationship between Dwarves, whether platonic, family-orientated, or romantic, was always to be cherished. How could he have allowed someone from that kind of race into his life? A race of cheats and liars! 
Suddenly the door burst open and you swung in, cheerful and with a huge grin on your face. “Good evening, my love,” you giggled. “Uh...oh,” you said, glancing down, shocked by the broken glass and food lying across the floor. “Are you alright?” 
You approached your husband, ready to make sure that he had not come to any harm, but he flinched away. His eyes were cold and he shot you a look of complete distain over his fur-covered shoulder. 
“Thorin?” you asked. “My love?” 
“Don’t you dare call me that!” Thorin spat. 
“W...wha....what?” you stuttered in complete disbelief. “I don’t understand.” You shook your head for emphases, dazed and confused by your husband’s outburst. “What’s brought this on?”
“Do not act so innocent. I am surely not your love. I should have known better than marry someone from such a society that is unfaithful to the ones they should cherish beyond measure. Disgusting!” 
“You think I’m cheating?” you cried. “W....why? This is insane.” 
“Every evening and you disappear with Hodel. You are constantly whispering in council, trying to steer clear of me. Do you think I am a complete fool and don’t know what you are up to?” Thorin growled. 
Tears fell down your cheeks. How on earth could he ever think you would be unfaithful to him? Did Thorin even have any idea how much you adored him? No other man could ever compare to him; in every way he was superior. Thorin made your heart leap for joy, he pleased you, both physically and emotionally. Your love making had always been intense and you hoped that you would be blessed with a child soon. 
“How can you ever think I’d be unfaithful to you?” you wept, dropping down to the bed. “No one else can compare to you...ever.” 
Thorin crossed his arms, trying to remain composed, but the sight and sound of you crying always brought him to his knees in weakness. In a split second of that weakness, he approached you, his hand reaching out to brush your hair. 
You looked up at him and softly grabbed his hand, putting it your cheek. “I love you more than life itself, Thorin,” you sobbed. 
Thorin swallowed hard, trying to press the lump away which had developed. He averted his gaze to the ceiling and tears gathered, blurring his vision. “Why? Am I not good enough?” Thorin whispered, his voice breaking. 
“It’s me that isn’t enough, never you,” you replied. “I need to show you something...if you’ll let me.” 
“What...?”
You cut Thorin off. “Please. It’ll make everything clear and you’ll understand.” 
Both of you exited the bed chamber in complete silence. Thorin followed on behind you, praying to Mahal that this was a huge misunderstanding and that you really were faithful to him. 
You finally reached your destination. it was one of the many worker’s rooms, specifically where instruments were hand crafted from metal and wood. 
Thorin stepped inside after you, apprehension swarming in his gut. 
“Oh, my King,” Hodel stuttered as he saw you both at the door. He reached for a cover and tossed it over something quickly so as Thorin could not see. 
“It’s alright, Hodel. Can you give the King and I a minute alone, please?” you asked politely. 
“Of course, my Queen,” Hodel replied, lowering his head and then he disappeared. 
You walked over towards the covered object. With your back still to Thorin, you spoke, “This was supposed to be for our two-year anniversary next week, my love. I designed it especially for you and had Hodel and his son begin making it for you, but they encountered a couple of problems and that was why it took longer than it should have.” 
With a sigh, you picked up the cover, only to show a bright, gold plated harp. The gold had been fully moulded into the form of runes and had the markings of the date of your marriage. “The strings still have to be attached...”
Thorin spun you around and you gasped as you hit him gently. You put your hands on his chest and his wound his arms around your waist. Tears were pouring down the King’s face. “Please don’t,” you said, wiping his red cheeks with your thumbs. Then you pressed your forehead to his. “It will only ever be you that has my heart. Trust in that.” 
***
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freckledoriya · 3 years
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Not a prompt but YOU LIKE MUSICALS TOO 🥺😭?!
I LOVE MUSICALS. i always have and i always will. i'm obsessed. i reference them all the time in my fics, if you keep an eye out for it (most blatantly, the "dead girl walking" heathers fic i wrote!)
here's a drabble for izuku crushing on a musical-lover, just because:
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izuku loves sundays.
sunday is laundry day, when he times it out perfectly to run into you at the apartment's laundry room. he felt a bit creepy, listening for the creak of your door to signal that it was time to leave, but he cherished any time he got to spend in the same room with you.
he waits a few minutes before carrying his laundry basket down the hall to the washer and dryer room. when he gets there and opens the door, there you are, tossing clothes in the wash and humming a show-tune. you smile at him when he walks in, and his heart flutters.
after some small talk, you both walk back to your respective apartments together, but the day is not over yet for izuku. he knows right after putting your clothes in the wash, you vacuum and clean the rest of your apartment. the walls are thin, and he can easily hear the vacuum turn on and off. but that's not what he's listening for.
no, his favorite thing is when he can hear you sing along with your favorite Broadway songs as you clean. hearing you belt choruses, he can only imagine how adorable you look doing it. maybe even dancing along with it? he could only dream of seeing it.
listening closely to what you sing, he'd research the show and listen to the musical himself, thinking that one day he could use it as a conversation starter if he ever got up the nerve to ask you out.
maybe one day, a musical would come into town, and he'd buy two tickets, offering you one with a soft smile and blush. you'd excitedly accept, and the two of you would dress up and go to the theatre together. or maybe he plans a movie night, and out of "coincidence" picks a musical movie. you both would cuddle on the couch, happily humming along with the actors on screen.
there are so many possibilities, if only he had the confidence to ask you. but for now, he'll stick to listening to "If I Could Tell Her" from Dear Evan Hansen and dreaming of telling you how he feels.
it’s fluff friday!
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starlit-scarlet · 2 years
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Stress
Pairing: Levi x Reader
Word Count: ~1.9k
This is a somewhat self-indulgent fic I decided to write this morning. Levi gets to comfort reader who's stressed out from school and an internship. Always such fun :) haha
Another long day of school, followed by hours at your internship where you got the thrill of doing all the work and reaping none of the benefits, and you finally staggered into your home, the sun having set below the horizon hours ago. Shutting the door closed behind you— metaphorically shutting away the day— you pressed your back against the door, eyes fluttering shut as you desperately tried to will away the migraine you could feel coming on at the base of your skull.
Fuck, could this day get any worse?
Tears pricked at the back of your eyelids, long having since wondered if any of this was even worth it at this point. Half the time you thought you’d made the wrong choices, picked the wrong path, yet here you were, continuing to truck along, because that was what you were supposed to do. Without having realized, the purse you’d been holding had slipped from your hand to land with a gentle thump on the floor.
The memory of the day flickered across your mind, remembering all the ways you’d apparently screwed up, your asshole of a supervisor never hesitating to remind you of that. Yet she always seemed to forget the way you made sure her files were always neatly organized in the proper drawers, the way you were always on time, never late, always willing to stay late when she needed you. The way your notes were careful and methodical, documenting as much of her time spent with clients as possible.
No. None of that she gave a shit about. She simply seemed hell-bent on pointing out each and every blunder you made.
‘You fucked up big time with that client. How you've gotten this far in your career and education, I haven't a clue. Go get me some coffee. Maybe that, you won’t screw up.’
It wasn’t that you minded criticism. No. You welcomed it. But there was a difference between constructive criticism meant to help you improve, and criticism meant to tear you down.
And you were doing all of this for an overpriced piece of paper that you weren’t even sure was worth it anymore.
Is this something I even want to do anymore?
Sighing, you pushed yourself off the door, wincing at the pull of your back. Sitting all day with shitty posture put a strain on your back, and it had you rubbing at the muscles as you made your way into your tiny kitchen. More tears flooded into your eyes at the sight sitting before you in the warm, dim light of the room.
There at the table was a steaming hot plate of your favorite dish, and you can’t help but drool at the sight of the bowtie pasta topped with the bolognese sauce. It was a meal that always brought you comfort, it having been the first thing he’d made you on that first date so long ago. Beside it, a simple glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, a couple of aspirin, and one of his notes he often left sitting around for you to find.
Oh, how that glorious man spoiled you to no end.
You picked up the note and unfolded it, a few tears trickling down your cheeks at the words.
‘Hey, don’t forget I love you.’
Sniffling, a weak, watery laugh spilled out of you at the simple little note. He may not be one for grand gestures and words of poetry, but fuck, the things he did had your heart pitter-pattering in your chest. As if you could ever forget. The man may be shit at verbalizing his emotions, but each and every day he made sure he showed you in some way that he loved you.
Making sure you had at least one hot, home-cooked meal a day, knowing the rest of your day was spent grabbing whatever was fastest.
Doing your laundry for you when you were bogged down with assignments for school, with work your supervisor forced you to take home to finish.
Taking you to your favorite spots on days where you had a little free time, the ones that held the most cherished memories for you.
Hugging you.
Kissing you.
Letting you cuddle up against him on the couch.
The fact that he did any of that even though he was also busy with his own job as a software engineer, was something so heartwarming, something only a man like Levi would do. His position was demanding, full of responsibilities, but he always made sure he made time for you, to take care of you.
Hearing a noise coming from the hall, you spun on your heel to watch as he entered the kitchen, your eyes filling with adoration for the stoic man stepping through the entryway. It stumped you sometimes, the way you’d been able to capture his heart, to break through the walls that had been erected around him, finally finding that soft and sweet interior you knew had existed.
He paused mid-step when he glanced up from his phone— most likely checking for messages from you— eyes widening when he realized you were already there.
“Oh you’re back already? Damn, I thought you were going to be a bit later. The soufflé isn’t quite done yet, but—”
The rest of his words are cut off as his breath huffed out of him at the force of you slamming into him, wrapping your arms tight around him. Burying your face into his neck, the trembles hit your body before you can stop them, breath hitching at the way his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you close against him.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m right here.”
See, that right there was another way of him reminding you he loved you. Simply telling you that he was there for you never failed to have your heart flipping in your chest the way it did in that moment. His voice might be gruff, but the underlying tones of affection were there, and only ever for you, and it had another shudder hitting you.
As always, he held you without resistance, for as long as you needed, another way he showed you. It had taken you time to learn to speak the language of Levi Ackerman, but now? Now you knew, and you read him with ease, could pick up each and every nuance, each twitch of his brow, the quirks of his lips, everything he did that was a clue to what he felt and thought. His heart was held in the palms of your hands, in the most delicate of ways, just as yours was with him.
He pulled back a touch to kiss the top of your head, tucking his knuckles beneath your chin to draw your gaze to his, and swiping away stray tears with his thumb.
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up and changed while I finish up in here?”
Nodding you leaned up to peck at his lips before making your way into your bedroom, stripping yourself of your clothes and tossing them into the hamper, your shoes placed neatly on the rack in the closet before changing into some comfy clothes and thick socks. Almost immediately, you felt a weight lift off of you, just from the simple act of removing the fabric you’d worn for the day, as if you’d been removing the events of the day with them.
Throwing your hair into a quick braid, you scurried back out, the smell of the food drawing a fierce rumble from your stomach. When you tried to help him finish, he waved you off, telling you to sit down and relax.
That’s how it usually went with him. He refused help when he sensed your day had been rougher than normal, no matter how much you insisted, not until he felt that you were at ease, relaxed, and taken care of. So you relented, settling in at the table, ravishly digging into the meal, slowly feeling more and more at ease. He sat in the chair next to yours with his own plate of food, and for several moments, the only sounds filling the room were the clinking of forks against the plates.
That was something else special about Levi. He always waited for you to eat, wanting at least one meal where the two of you could spend time together, enjoy each other’s company. It didn’t matter the time. Early afternoon, late evening, early night, no. He didn’t care at all, so long as you ate together. Another reminder of how much he cared for you.
When you’d finished, you leaned back in your chair, a satisfied smile filling your face at how his simple care had made you feel better, the aspirin not even needed as the headache faded on its own. Not having realized your eyes had fluttered closed, you started when he took your hand in his, linking your fingers together. You turned your head to meet his eyes, and your heart flipped in your chest at the affection you see in his, the dim kitchen light making his hair appear darker, and you couldn't help the way your free hand combed through the bangs flopping over his forehead, moving to cup the side of his face.
“You don’t have to do this, you know?”
Without even needing clarification, you knew what he was referring to. It was something he reminded you of regularly, reminding you that he would support you no matter what, that you didn’t have to continue on if you no longer wanted, that you would both figure things out together. You don’t know what you’d done to deserve him, but like hell would you ever let him go.
Tears prick your eyes once more, though gentler this time, and not from the stress of the day. “I know, baby...I want to do this.”
Because at the end of the day, this was something you truly wanted for yourself. You wanted to be able to look back and say, I kept going, and I finished. Even if it wasn’t the right path for you, you wanted the satisfaction that came with that overpriced piece of paper.
And that was all the reassurance he needed as he leaned in to graze his lips across your forehead, drawing a content sigh from you. He was your rock, and he was all you needed to make it through each and every day.
Timed perfectly, he pulled the soufflés out of the oven, setting them down in front of the both of you. His is a tart lemon, yours is a decadent chocolate and you can’t help but moan in delight at the richness that hits your taste buds as you devour the desert. Enjoying each other’s company, the two of you sit in companionable silence as you enjoy the delicious dessert he’d made.
Once finished, he rose to clear away the dishes, though this time you insist on helping, refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer. Sensing that you were more relaxed, he relented, the chore passing by faster with the two of you working together...him washing and you drying of course.
With the dishes out of the way, the two of you were free to end the night in the way you both enjoyed best, cuddling on the couch with your legs swung over his lap, his arm around your shoulders holding you close. As he always did, he’d tossed a throw blanket over the two of you before flicking on the tv, selecting the next episode of the latest tv show you were indulging in together.
It was the perfect end to a shitty day, one that helped you keep going.
Back to Fluff/Comfort Menu
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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years
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Crimson Gods
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Pairing: vampire!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: non-con, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of death and suicidal thoughts, allusion to breeding.
Words: 2362.
Summary: Living in the world where most lands are governed by the Noble, ancient vampires who shed human blood simply for their own amusement, you try leading a quiet and secluded life along with your mother. Sadly, you aren’t prepared when a vampire comes to your town.
P.S. When I was younger, I really, really loved Vampire Hunter D. I watched the movie again yesterday, and here’s the result ahahah. 
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It was way past midnight, but you couldn't force yourself to sleep, tossing and turning in your comfy bed while thinking of your travel tomorrow. You were supposed to leave the town for the first time in years to visit your grandmother who lived in the Northern Frontier Sector, and now you dreamt of how you were going to embrace her, kiss her cheeks despite her scolding you for not behaving properly in public. You hadn't seen her in 7 years. After the incident, you had never even once left the town, and your grandmother could hardly travel so far due to her age. Of course, you kept exchanging letters, but how could a cold letter, though written with great respect, replace a live communication?
While you kept wondering how your encounter would go, all of a sudden it felt cold under your cozy cotton blanket, and you reluctantly got up to take a huge comforter out of your heavy wooden chest. Why was it freezing tonight even with the windows closed? You were just in the middle of September. To be honest, you hardly remembered the last time the weather was so bad as you wrapped a comforter around your trembling shoulders, thinking whether you have to take your winter nightgown instead of light muslin one you were wearing now.
Throwing a glance at your window, you saw the frosted panes and furrowed your brows, refusing to believe it. Dear Lord, you lived in the Western Frontier Sector, not far to the North! Was it really going to snow out of nowhere tonight? As you moved closer to look at an empty street, you realized that a huge cross on top of a building on the other side started crumpling with a disgusting sound as if it were made of paper, not pure silver to protect citizens from the creatures of the night. Several crosses on the buildings down the street had been destroyed, too. Quickly, you looked down only to find the flower beds withering within seconds despite your beautiful roses blooming just a couple of hours ago. Now they all turned black.
You stilled on the spot, unable to believe your eyes and covering your ears from that horrifying noise. You had only seen something like that once, and it was the time when most villagers had already been dead, turned into beasts without a soul who craved for blood as much as their masters did. That night you had lost your beloved father as you fled your house in a rush, just a little child back then, and, once you arrived in the town, had never even once left your new home.
The crumpled crosses, dead flowers and a sudden temperature drop could mean only one thing: a vampire had come to the town. It wasn't some upyr, oh no, it was one of the Nobles, maybe even an Elder if you were unlucky.
Dear Lord, what a Noble wanted in a peaceful town like this? There were neither treasures nor mechanisms of the ancient, nothing that could potentially interest a Noble. Except that they might be simply eager to shed human blood for their own amusement...
Before you screamed at the top of your voice to wake up everyone around, you heard the sound of a large mirror in your room breaking, and then felt somebody's strong grip on your throat despite no one being in front of you. The world turned black before you uttered a single word.
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Moving a heavy crimson curtain a bit so you could look out the window, you gasped, watching the corn fields far beneath looking like neat pieces of cloth. The view was incredible! You had never seen anything like this before, though you certainly didn't remember travelling in such fine carriage ever before either. It was truly stunning, made of black steel, shining in the sunlight as if it only been made yesterday. Steven laughed when you said it out loud, explaining that this carriage had been more than a century old. Apparently, the Nobility's carriages were miraculous since you couldn't find even a single scratch on the surface.
"Be careful, sweetheart." The man behind your back said, gently bringing you closer to him and further from the window, curtain falling back and hiding the two of you from the outside world. "Night does not fall yet."
"Forgive me my curiosity. I have never seen anything as magnificent." You smiled sheepishly at the handsome blonde-haired, blue-eyed man in a long black cape with red lining.
He let out a low chuckle, taking your hand and kissing it briefly while you forgot how to breathe for a second, deeply embarrassing by such outpouring display of affection. You lead a rather quiet secluded life in the town, pretty much never being around men of your age: your mother was going to choose a respectable husband for you herself, so you never worried about it before. Now, however, you felt ashamed for being so close to a man despite loving him dearly. Oh, what would your mother say if she saw you now? Wouldn't she be worried? Would she approve of your marriage to a No-
You blinked as you stared at the handsome man's pale face, feeling all your worries fading away. As long as you stayed with the love of your life, nothing else mattered, right?
"If that is what you wish, we will travel by air a lot more right after I present you at Western Frontier Court, sweetheart." His deep, silky voice made you let out a nervous chuckle as you felt your cheeks growing hot. "My, aren't you adorable?"
"Please, Steven, stop it!" You furrowed your brows as he grinned at you, baring his sharp fangs you paid no attention to. "I cannot believe I am getting married to you so soon. It feels... strange. A little unsettling."
"And why is that?" There was some wariness to his voice.
"It's just... I have never imagined myself being married to anyone. Surely, I thought of having a family at some point, but it was so distant. I have never even pictured myself close to a man, let alone a High Lord like you." You admitted honestly, biting your lower lip and averting his gaze. "You have never been married before, too, have you? Aren't you frightened even the slightest bit?"
"A little." He answered too soon, yet you disregarded it as well. "But I have no doubts we will make a good couple, sweetheart. I will cherish you like no other man ever would."
Embarrassed to the point your face was on fire, you decided to drop it, not knowing how a nobleman like Steven Grant Rogers could have an audacity to say such things. He was completely shameless! You hoped he was going to be more reserved while presenting you at court; you pictured your grandmother fainting if she heard him speaking like now.
What was Western Frontier Court like? You had never been there, not than any human ever could: as far as you knew, not even all vampires could serve the Nobility living in the high castle surrounded by mountains. You heard its peaks were covered with snow all year round.
"Have the king ever visited your castle?" You suddenly asked, back to your curious self.
Steven's face became even paler. "He did on several occasions, but it was a long time ago way before I was even born. I have only seen him once, and I do not think I will ever forget this encounter."
"Oh, is he as frightening as the legends say?"
"You cannot describe it with words, sweetheart. But do not be worried, he had been asleep for more than a thousand years now, and he surely won't wake up just to attend some Noble's marriage." A faint smile twisted Steven's lips as he drop a soft kiss to your forehead. "Actually, please do not refer to him as a king. The Nobles call him the Great One."
"Oh, I see. Thank you." Nodding, you turned your face back to the window covered by a crimson curtain, biting your lip again. "Can I watch the sunset a little? I won't be long, I promise."
"As you wish, sweetheart. Please come back to me once you are done, it is going to be a long night."
Gesturing to the large black coffin laying in the middle of your carriage, the man brushed his cold soft lips against your cheek and got up from his seat, smiling at you watching him. You remembered being very unhappy once you learnt there was only one coffin: you had never thought you would lay close to your betrothed with your head on his chest before your marriage. How terribly bold it was of Steven to make you sleep so close to him! However, you were content he had never even once tried touching you inappropriately, always treating you with respect: he said he admired your purity and innocence while not many Noble women were bothered by them.
Once he got inside the coffin, you lifted the curtain again, squinted as rays of bright light pierced the darkness of the carriage. Oh, how incredibly beautiful was the sunset in front of you. You had seldom seen such lovely sight as this. Would you miss the sun once you reach the high castle? You surely would, you thought. Hopefully, your betrothed would keep his promise to travel with you, and when he fell asleep during the day, you would walk in daylight all by yourself.
As you kept staring at the bright sky coloured in orange and pink, all of a sudden you thought why did you have to live in the high castle with Steven while your home was far away from the white mountains, in a little human town where you spent the last several years. Oh, right, you were engaged to the Overseer of the Western Frontier Sector, the highest Noble guarding the lands where you were born and raised. He was a peerless warrior and a fierce leader, a vampire respected by other Nobles.
A vampire? Steven was a vampire? Why would you be engaged to a vampire, let alone the Noble? The Overseer of the lands you were born and raised, the one who had taken advantage of those poor humans living in the Western Frontier Sector and let other Nobles ravage your cities and villages, destroying everything on their way.
You were engaged to the vampire overlord, a ruthless, cold-blooded being who could wipe out every human in these lands if he desired so. No, he was not your betrothed, the man you promised to marry willingly. He was the one who kidnapped you from your own bed at night, casting some spell over you to make you forget who you were.
You clamped a hand around your mouth to stop the pathetic sounds you were making as you cried, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Dear Lord, why was the Overseeker doing it to you? What could he gain from this cruel game? Seemingly nothing, except for having some fun with a silly human girl. But that what the Nobles were doing once they got bored, wasn't it? No, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction, you thought, happy you were given a chance to escape - even if it cost you your own life, it was still for the better.
"The Overseeker of the Southern Frontier Sector did, not that I expect you to know. Now, please, come back here. You had enough time watching the sunset."
You couldn't believe your eyes, watching him say it with such confidence. Was he willing to keep playing his twisted game even when his sweet facade fell?
"Why do you pretend as if my death matters to you? You will kill me soon anyway. Does it bring you so much pleasure to murder one more pathetic human?"
"I won't kill you, sweetheart. It has never been my intention."
There was something to his voice, some emotion you struggled to describe that made you feel bitter and regretful. Was it all truly going to end like this? You were so young, supposed to have your whole life ahead of you, now faced with a choice to either let a vampire consume you or jump out the carriage and fell to your death.
"Than what was it? I assume you have been living for more than thousands of years. Aren't you a little too old for playing these games still?" You chocked on a sob, barely containing your tears as you trembled in front of the Overseeker.
"I am not playing a game." He admitted tiredly, suddenly taking the black glove off his hand. "All I wish for is a loving wife who can bear my children and bring peace to my lands. I have been wandering human cities for a great while before I found you, strong enough to carry a dampiel after a few genetic enhancements. Please, do not struggle. I have not come to make you suffer eternal torment."
For a couple of seconds you stared at him with your mouth slightly open, unable to utter a single word. You had expected the vampire to say anything but this. Was it still a game? Now you hoped it was because even being drained till the last drop of blood was better than carrying a dampiel, a child of both vampire and human, feared and loathed greatly by both races. When you recovered, however, you quickly turned the door handle and pushed the door, willing to wait no longer.
But the door did not give to your pressure. To your horror, it stayed still as if it were a solid piece of steel.
Feeling the iron grip of the Overseeker's fingers on you shoulder, you yelped as he dragged you back to his coffin with force, closing the lid before you had a chance to escape. The next second his fingers were on your neck, suffocating you before you lost consciousness just like the night when Steven Grant Rogers kidnapped his human beloved.
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Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @lovelydarkdaydream @ninefuckingoneone @jaysayey @megzdoodle​
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Wet
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↳PARING:  Chris Evans x Black!Reader
↳WARNINGS: fluff, teasing, mild sexual innuendo, grumpy reader
↳WORD COUNT: 1718
↳AUTHOR’S NOTE:  One shot based on that lovely IG story of his.
↳BETA: @titty-teetee​
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You rolled your eyes in annoyance, as you stood in the backyard of your beautiful Sudburry home.  Adjusting the navy blue Patriots hoodie, you had stolen from your husband's side of the closet, around your hips, you let out a tired yawn.
Massachuessettes was experiencing its first taste of fall weather, and you gave a slight shiver, feeling the slight breeze of the wind that blew through the fuzzy socks on your feet and travel its way up the thin pair of the leggings you wore.
You were tired, but mostly annoyed that your husband somehow talked you into doing this nonsense in the first place.
Speaking of your husband…
You watched him, half naked, as he made his way over to your pool with Dodger trailing behind him.  He was supposed to have been tarping the pool due to the change of the season, like he told you, but plans had changed.  Scott, his little brother, who had been staying with the both of you during this pandemic lockdown, challenged your husband’s competitive nature.  And your husband was never the one to back down from a challenge.
So, this is why you were here.  Chris, your husband, asked if you could film him doing this dumb ass challenge and since you promised to love, honor, and cherish this man til the day you died, you had no choice but to stand out here freezing your ass off.
But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain about it.
“Okay,” you huffed, pulling the hood of his hoodie over your bun of braids, “can we please get this over with?  I’m cold, and I gotta feed my baby.”  You complained, feeling a shiver go up your spine.  The baby you were referring to was yours and Chris’ 2 ½ month old son, Carter.
From beside you, you overheard the sound of your brother in law, Scott, playfully mocking you.  Something he always did to tease you.  But it was all out of love.  Just like the swift kick you gave to the back of his knee, causing him to nearly buckle.  He tried to get his revenge, but you quickly hopped out of the way, giggling softly at his frustration.
“Bitch,” Scott spat in a teasing tone.
“Ho,” you tossed back, in the same fashion, while sticking your tongue out his way.  Just like the 5 year old you were.  
Scott then gave you a look that read oh, you know it, pursing his lips together, and the two of your burst out into a fit of laughter.  You always adored the friendship you had with the younger Evans brother.
“So,” you heard Chris clear his voice, “are the two of you done cackling over there?”
You stopped laughing and faced your husband, with a raised brow.  “Do you still want me to film this for you?”  You threw back, and he just sent a playful glare your way.  “That’s what I thought.  Now hurry up and do this.  I know you wanna post this so all your little thirsty fangirls can get their content.”
“You sound a little jealous, babe.”  Chris taunted, hands on his narrow hips.
You scoffed at that absurdity, before raising your left hand, showing off your very personal, very expensive wedding set.  “Jealous where, honey?  I locked that shit down 5 years ago.”
“I heard that.”  You heard Scott’s extra commentary.
Chris just chuckled softly from his spot by the pool.
You didn’t mind the girls, women, and gay men who obsessed over your husband.  You actually thought it was cute, but you always didn’t mind taking the time out to tease your husband about it.
Getting the camera ready on his phone, you watched as Chris’ bare feet tiptoed closer to the edge of the pool and set himself up.  You pointed the camera in his direction and quickly hit the record button.
A few seconds went by, and Chris looked to be a little hesitant to do this.  You could almost see on his face that he was starting to regret taking on Scott’s dare.
“Are you gonna do this or what, sir?”  You called out.  What little patience you had was starting to grow thin, as it started to grow a little colder.  “You know your son is the king of cat naps, and he’ll be up any minute.”
Chris knew that you were fucking with him, like you always did.  But he knew that you were also telling the truth.  Carter Evans had a severe case of FOMO.  He was a nosy little thing, that prevented either of you from practically getting anything done. 
“Would you wait a moment, woman?  Damn.”  Chris growled, rubbing his hands together, looking over his shoulder at the icy cold water behind him.
You didn’t miss the shiver that now went up your husband’s spine.  Again, it was cold as hell out here, and Chris was practically wearing nothing except for a pair of plain black swim trunks.  His upper body and half of his lower body exposed the chilly air.
The smile that subconsciously graced your lip, eyed the way the muscles constricted, along with the thin layer of hair that covered his chest and rippled torso.  Not to forget the ink he wore proudly, including your name perfectly scripted right underneath his left pectoral, just above his heart.
Your husband was a beautiful man.
You quickly shook your head of the dirty thoughts, as you focused your attention back to Chris’ actions.  He took a deep breath, raising his thick arms in the air, and before you knew it, he was doing a back hand tuck and landed right into the pool.  The large splash caused Dodger to panic, as he scurried around the pool.
When Chris finally broke the surface, less than a second later, he let out a painfully muttered, “fuck, this is cold.”
You stopped recording, the moment your husband pulled himself from the pool.  “That felt good, didn’t it?”  You teased, glad to not be in his situation right now.
Chris then let out a full body shiver, shaking the excess water from his growing hair.  He then threw another glare your way, but this one had a bit more of a predatory look in his eyes.  And you knew that look all too well.
You knew the moment Chris started making his way toward you exactly what he was getting ready to do.
You held your hands up, knowing damn well that that wasn’t going to stop him.  “Christopher Robert Evans, you better not.”
The smile on his face grew more sinister, the closer he got to you.  Your eyes quickly glanced down, immediately noticing the bulge swinging inside the soaking wet shorts that clung to his thighs like a second skin. 
You hastily started to walk backwards, ignoring Scott’s laughter.  You just wanted to get away from Chris, before he got to you.
“Don’t run from me, woman.”  Chris nearly growled, still trying to get at you.  “You was talking all that shit earlier.  I just want to talk to you.”
“Yeah right.”  You spat in return, still walking backwards.  “I know you, Christopher.”
You hadn’t been fast enough, because Chris finally caught up to you, pulling you against his chest.  His body was cold and wet, and if it wasn’t for you wearing his hoodie, you could feel it all.  But that was about to change.
Chris grabbed his phone from your grasp and tossed it over to Scott, who caught it with ease and quickly disappeared back into the house.
“Okay,” you huffed, trying to appease your husband, reaching up to cup his wet, bearded face, “you had your fun.  Now—”
Before you could finish your sentence, Chris quickly hoisted you up and over his shoulder, causing you to squeal in shock.  He then gave your curvaceous backside a hard smack, and took off running.  You knew exactly where he was running to.
“I swear on God, Christopher, if you drop me in that cold ass pool, we’re getting a divorce, and I’m taking my baby.”  You tried and failed to wiggle out of Chris’ strong grip.
Chris ignored your pleas, and you just prepared yourself for the inevitable.  Then it came too slow and too sudden at the same time.  If you thought the water was cold before, you were wrong.  That shit was much, much colder, as your lungs felt like they were on fire.
When you finally reached the surface, your braids had fallen from the bun you had them in, and your clothes were now sopping wet.  Once you caught your bearings, you looked over to see your husband, also in the pool, dying of laughter.
“You’re an asshole.”  You squeaked, splashing water in his face.  “Don’t laugh at me, this water is fucking cold.”
Chris, still laughing, swam his way to you, pulling you into his arms.  “Baby,”
“Don’t baby me, you jerk.”  You whined, pouting your lips, but not pushing him away.  “I don’t like you right now.”
Chris shook his head.  “Don’t lie, you love me.”
“Like and love are two very different things, Mr. Evans.”  You told him matter of factly.
He just playfully rolled his eyes and then pressed a kiss to your lips.  “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”
You had no rebuttal, because you needed to get out of this pool.  You just followed him right to the edge, where he boosted you out and then pulled himself out next.
Your clothes felt heavy and saturated on your body.  You then turned to face your husband, now even more annoyed.
“I really don’t like you right now.”
Chris chuckled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing a cold, wet kiss to your equally cold and wet cheek.  “Let’s get you dry, so I can get you all wet again.”  He then pushed a few of your wet braids off of your neck and planted a kiss there.
Damn him…
“Hey, Dodge,” Chris whistled to Dodger, who was utilizing a tree, “let’s go inside, Bubba.”  He then turned back to you.  “You too.”  He slapped your ass once more, before jogging off into the house.  Dodger right on his trail.
You then slowly began your uncomfortable, squishy walk back to your house.
Damn him... 
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TAGS: @smuttywriter​ @a-moment-captured​ @thejeneralvicinity​ @caramara3​ @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression​ @deansblackbeauty​ @meishaabae​ @lyanna-the-giantsbane​
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Miles of Memories- 1
We’ve Got Tonight- Bob Seger
Miles of Memories Masterlist CarryOnCap’s Masterlist
Dean x reader Best Friends to Lovers AU
Summary: Feeling anxious about heading off to college, you make the most of your last night in town with the help of your best friend, Dean.
Warnings: fluffy, adorable Dean and fun banter. Slight angst (goodbyes are hard). Minor mentions of childhood trauma
WC: 2,900
A/N: This part is like a “prelude” to give you a glimpse of Y/N and Dean’s relationship (5 years before the main storyline). I hope you stay tuned for the slowest of Dean x fem!reader slowburns. I’m so excited to share this story, so please let me know what you think! MASSIVE thanks to my spectacular and badass beta crew—@christopher-evxns @deanwinchesterswitch @ezilyamuzed & @wonder-cole—for all of their help and input!! I edited even after their feedback, so all mistakes are my own.  Credit to Bob Seger for the song :) 
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Zipping your suitcase closed with a heavy sigh, you worked through your mental checklist for the hundredth time to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to pack anything.
“Jeez, you act like it’s the last time you’ll ever see this place or something.” With a smile and a roll of your eyes, you turned to see Dean leaning casually against your doorframe. “Y’know, I figured I’d talk to Bobby about renting this space out anyway. Save you the stress of missing it while you’re gone because it’ll look completely different the next time you come back.”
“I’m not too worried. I think you’re the last person Bobby would trust with anything—let alone a space in his house.”
Dean grinned, pushing off the doorframe to mosey into your room. “See, normally I’d agree with you. But it just so happens that he gave me my very own key to the garage, so I think he’s coming around. This ready?” He pointed at the suitcase on your bed, and you nodded. 
“Riiight. I’m supposed to believe that Bobby would actually give you a key to come and go at the shop anytime you want.”
Dean shrugged, spinning on his heel with your bag in hand. “Guess he’s looking for a new favorite since you’re skipping town to go be successful out in the real world.”
You snorted and shook your head, silently following him to the door. He stepped out of the way, placing his free hand on the doorknob as you scanned the bedroom one last time. Gnawing your bottom lip, you sucked in a deep breath and tried to alleviate some of the tightness in your chest.
This room had been a safe haven for most of your life, and it was hard to remember the days before you called it “home.” Your mother had passed away when you were a toddler, and your father was a drunk, in and out of jail and your life until one day he didn’t come back. Bobby had often been the one who took care of you when your father needed to pass you off onto someone else. 
You didn’t remember much about the “Travelin’ Man” (as Bobby not-so-lovingly referred to him on the rare occasions he was mentioned), but you could easily recall the night Bobby told you this would be your room for good. The relief and excitement you’d felt upon learning you’d have a space of your own were still vivid. Knowing you had a place you could always return to provided a sense of stability and consistency you’d never known.
Bobby may not have been your father by blood, but he was your dad in every sense of the word. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges and tended to be a hermit, but he also had a heart of gold, and not once had he ever made you question whether he cared about you.
A few weeks after settling into your new home, you had met Jessica and Sam during recess at your new elementary school. Although they were a grade younger, you’d instantly hit it off with them. Jess and Sam had always been there for you over the years, too, willing to lend an ear or make time for movie nights and spontaneous trips to the diner. Eventually, Sam had introduced you to Dean, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since. Each and every memory you had growing up involved at least one (if not all three) of them. But while it was difficult saying goodbye to everyone in general...you still hadn’t been able to grasp the idea of saying goodbye to Dean.
Dean was the one who had been by your side through everything. From heartfelt life chats and your deepest moments of self-doubt to car ride sing-alongs and your loudest belly laughs. He was always there to comfort you, remind you not to take things so seriously, and even drag you into trouble once in a while. 
The thought of leaving him and your safe, familiar home brought yet another wave of apprehension and doubt. What if you were making a huge mistake?
“Y/N...” Dean’s gentle voice coaxed you back to reality. “We’ve still got a lot to pack into our night, so don’t go checking out on me yet.”
Without looking back, you slipped past Dean and heard him shut the door as you made your way downstairs. 
“You know, this wouldn’t be so hard if you would’ve just applied like I told you to. Then we could both be going off to college together, and you’d find out what an honor it would be to have me as a roomie.”
“Okay, well, let me remind you that you’re the one who decided to go ‘see what’s out there’ and get a fancy college degree under her belt. And, even if we did survive being roommates without making the other want to pull their hair out, there’s no way in hell that town would be able to handle both of us.”
“That’s fair.”
“Besides, I won’t have much of a chance to miss you. You’ll probably flunk out and be back here by the end of the semester anyway.”
“Also fair,” you laughed. “Taking a year off to work at The Roadhouse and pretend to get my life together seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m a little worried about getting into the groove of studying and all that crap again.”
“You know, if you need help, all you gotta do is pick up the phone. I mean, Sammy’s a real bookworm, and he’s only a phone call away.” Dean winked as he held the front door open and motioned for you to lead the way. 
Sticking your tongue in your cheek, you fought to hide your amusement at the way he threw his brother under the bus. Before you made it through the door, you whirled around toward the stairs again. “Dang it. I forgot my bathroom bag. Do you mind tossing that one in the car? I’ll be right back!”
“Another bag? Where are you gonna put all this crap?” he muttered.
After retrieving the pouch from the bathroom upstairs and making sure you hadn’t left any necessary items in the drawers and cabinets, you hurried outside to find Dean patiently waiting beside your car. You tossed the small bag and he caught it with ease, pitching it in the backseat before closing the door.
“And done. Any last-minute stops to make along the way?” he asked.
“Nope. I caught Ellen, Jo, and Jody at the end of my shift yesterday, and Charlie was over for a bit this morning. And, you know, Sam and Jess ditched us for California last weekend. That means you and Bobby are the only two left to put up with me until I leave in the morning.”
When your voice cracked unexpectedly, you cleared your throat and surveyed the scrapyard until the faint prick in the corners of your eyes faded. As your departure drew near and you considered everything you were leaving behind, venturing out into the world was quickly beginning to feel more daunting than exciting. 
“Hey…” Dean gripped the tops of your arms, stirring you from your thoughts. “We’ve got tonight. Who needs tomorrow? We’ve got tonight...babe. Why don’t you staaaaaaaayy—”
You had thought he was going to say something sweet and comforting, but you playfully shoved him in the chest when you realized he was speaking in Bob Seger lyrics. He stumbled back a step, laughing as he walked around the front of the impala and climbed inside.
***
There was an old park on the outskirts of town where Bobby and John would occasionally drop you both off when they had errands to run. As the years passed, you began riding your bikes the few miles across town, taking turns balancing Sam on your handlebars until Dean was old enough to drive. Eventually, Sam stopped tagging along, but somewhere along the way the park became a place you and Dean cherished. 
A large pond stretched across most of the area, and there was a stately willow tree near the water’s edge that served as your designated “spot.” It was a hideaway often overlooked by others, but it was the perfect escape when the two of you needed a place that was all your own. 
“Alright.” Dean plopped down beside you on the blanket. “You’ve got your grub, an amazing view, and the best company you could ever ask for. What else could you possibly want?”
“You’re right. Baby’s good company and all, but she’s not much of a conversationalist.”
Dean grimaced. “Just for that, I might eat your food.”
“Depending on what it is, I might let you.”
He smirked and unrolled the brown paper sack in his hand. “PB&J’s, just like Mom used to make! I asked if she could whip up a few before she flew out to make sure Sam got all settled at Stanford. She said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t catch you and to wish you good luck. This seemed like a, uh, better idea at the time...now that it’s been a couple of days, these might taste like shit.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you took the sandwich Dean offered. “We’ve probably eaten worse, but I appreciate the sentimental twist. Seeing as how you’re in your 20’s and you had your mom make us sandwiches.”
“Hey, I was going for authenticity! Trying to help you feel like a kid again before you start adulting or whatever and—you know what? Just shut up and eat your food.”
The two of you unwrapped your sandwiches and continued bantering back and forth between bites. Even though the bread was soggy from marinating in jelly for a few days, and it certainly wasn’t the best thing you’d ever eaten, it brought back a flood of nostalgia. 
When a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your thoughts began to drift to dozens of adventures you and Dean had had here. You gazed out over the water, watching the willow branches graze the surface as they gently swayed in the breeze. You tried to commit every detail to memory as you soaked in the peaceful atmosphere, not knowing how long it would be until you returned.
After a while, Dean chuckled under his breath, and you looked at him curiously.
“You remember that day we were pretending to be pirates, and Dad ended up coming to pick us up early?”
“Of course.”
“Man, he was so pissed when he saw us standing on top of that picnic table we managed to drag out and ‘sail’ into the middle of the pond. Sure made an awesome ship, though.”
You smiled at the memory, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I think he was a little more pissed at the fact that we left Sam playing alone in the gazebo. And obviously what made the ‘ship’ great was the pirate flag I made.”
“Uh-huh,” Dean snorted. “You mean the crappy skull you drew on our lunch bag and stuck on the end of a stick? Pretty sure we were having a blast with the ship because it was my brilliant idea in the first place.”
“I was like 8, and it was still better than anything you could’ve drawn.” You crumpled up your trash and threw it at him. “And I was having fun--right up until you pushed me off anyway. I nearly choked to death on all that nasty water I sucked in.”
“Okay, well, you shouldn’t have been trying to be Captain when I’m the oldest, and it was clearly my title to begin with. There was no plank to walk, but obviously, you had to go overboard.” 
He grinned, keeping his gaze fixed on the water. As you studied his face and noticed the faraway look in his eye, his smile faded. You figured his thoughts had drifted back to his dad, who had passed away a couple of years later. 
“I felt so damn bad, though. I really was afraid you were gonna drown. And Bobby was ready to kill me when he found out.”
“Lucky for you, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
The two of you joked and reminisced for several more hours, eventually watching the sun set over the water until it sank below the horizon. When it was time to head back to Bobby’s, Dean took the long way home so you could crank the radio and sing along with your hand hanging lazily out the open window. Back at the house, you sat on the kitchen counter and talked with both men until Bobby finally bid you goodnight--but you still weren’t ready to call it a night, knowing morning would come soon and it would be time for you to leave. 
After convincing Dean to stay a little longer, you grabbed a couple of old blankets and spread them in the bed of one of the pickup trucks near the house. With your head on his chest and your body tucked comfortably against his side, you chatted beneath the stars until you drifted off to sleep.
***
“Got everything all packed up?” Bobby asked.
“I think so,” you answered.
“Better double-check because I’m not driving a few hours just to bring you a lost shoe or something.” 
“Is that a challenge?” you teased, seeing right through his gruff quip. “Because I bet I could talk you into it. We both know you’re not gonna know what to do without me.”
He frowned a little before smiling fondly, and you could’ve sworn there was a misty glaze in his eyes.
“Yeah. I s’pose you’re right.”
“Oh, don’t get all sentimental on me now. You could probably use a little break. Besides, I’ll be back so often you’ll just get sick of me all over again.”
“C’mere, kid.” 
Bobby reached out and pulled you into a hug. Much too soon, he let go and stepped aside so you could say goodbye to Dean. His soft green eyes had been fixed on you, but he glanced away and clenched his jaw when you took a step toward him. 
“So, uh...don’t forget about us when you make it big out there in the real world—catch a break as an artist or an author or some music critic.”
“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “I haven’t even picked out a major yet, but I think I have an advisor who can help me figure out a good fit...eventually. Maybe I’ll be a doctor—or follow in Sam’s footsteps and be a lawyer!”
“There you go. Why not just do it all while you’re at it? Jack of all trades, master of none. Whatever you end up doing, you better come back to visit soon.”
“You got it. Try not to turn into a grumpy old man while I’m gone.”
He shook his head, cracking a smile as he met your eyes. “Only a couple years older than you, brat. Anyway, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I made you a playlist for the drive. Figured I might as well do something useful while I was awake. I sent it to you while you were getting ready.”
Pulling out your phone, you found a message already waiting with a link to the playlist. 
“This is awesome, Dean, thank you. But if it ends up being six hours of nothing but Zeppelin, I’m gonna be pissed.”
He tossed his head back and laughed, making the knot in your throat grow once again at the thought of not seeing him almost every day. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d miss you as much as you were going to miss him.
“Don’t worry; I think it ended up being a decent mix. Not too many classics and not too much of the more modern crap. There was, uh... a certain thought process behind each song, let’s just say that.”
“We all know some of that modern crap is a guilty pleasure of yours. I mean, Taylor Swift?”
“Yeah…” His gaze lingered until his grin faded to a sad smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Pressing your lips into a thin line, you leaned forward and threw an arm around each man. Squeezing your eyes closed, you hugged them tight.
“All joking aside...you got nothing to worry about. You’re gonna kick this college thing in the ass,” Dean murmured.
“Thank you.”
Clearing your throat, you slipped out of their embrace and quickly made your way to the car. 
“Drive safe--and call when you get there!” Bobby hollered.
Stealing one last glimpse over your shoulder, you waved and slid behind the wheel. You hit shuffle on the playlist, letting the music fill the vehicle while you fasten your seatbelt.
I know it’s late
I know you’re weary
I know your plans don’t include me...
You shook your head and smiled, blinking back tears at the irony of the song—the lyrics perfectly encapsulating your night with Dean.
Look at the stars so far away
We’ve got tonight
Who needs tomorrow?
We’ve got tonight, babe
Why don’t you stay?
As you started the car and drove away, seeing him and Bobby grow smaller in the rearview mirror, you finally began to cry.
Part 2
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Also tagging those of you who seemed interested when I posted the masterlist. I don’t want to pester you, so I probably won’t tag you in future parts unless you let me know that you’d like to be tagged!
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thran-duils · 3 years
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Doll Me Up (P.3)
Title: Doll Me Up (Part Three) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,963 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior
Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
Tony had left Y/N back at home after leaving the beach. He made sure she was settled back at his mansion, after he had had his face settled between her thighs that is. That was a surefire way to get her to relax and he cherished the taste of her on his tongue, inhaling the scent of her. It had done the trick well enough, and he had encouraged her to take a warm bath. She was confused at where he had to go at the hour, but he had assured her it would not take long, and he would be back before she knew it. She was rattled, he could tell, about the whole ordeal at the boardwalk. But she was acting tough, and he had to admire her resiliency. It was going to make her a good wife and hopefully mother in the future.
The tunnel he was walking down was dank and had an off smell about it. What he had ordered could not happen on his property, so this was the next best bet. It was secluded, in a seedy part of the city. Cops were around but they were preoccupied with things above ground.
He was met outside the room by Happy who had arrived before him. “It’s all ready, boss.”
“Good,” Tony clipped. “I’m assuming we have a dumpsite already?”
“That’s taken care of.”
Tony patted Happy’s cheek. “I can always count on you.”
He strode past him into the room, the smile falling from his face at the sight. The two men his guards had caught were chained up to the wall. The guys had already been beaten by his men, their faces dripping blood, deep bruises along their abdomens. But they had been kept conscious according to Tony’s instructions. He wanted to deliver the final blows himself personally. Anyone who tried to dare lay hands on Y/N, whisk her away from him… he had bloodthirst on his mind.
“Remember me?” Tony asked sarcastically, taking off his jacket, tossing it towards one of his men who caught it before it could fall to the ground.
The men were blabbering, eyes swollen, lips swollen. They just wanted it to end. Tony snickered at the thought. He had an array of tools at his disposal to make sure this would last longer and draw the pain out for them.
At the end of it, when their hearts had finally stopped, he looked all the look of a serial killer. His t-shirt was blotted with blood, a wicked smile at seeing the work he had done on them, still hearing their pained screams. His fists were bloody. He never touched people like this but since it was for her…
She would no doubt notice and fawn over it. Win-win situation for him.
<><><>
Y/N swam over to Tony at the edge of the pool where he was reclining in a chair. He was watching her closely, thinking of how she had almost been taken from him a week ago and the thought made his stomach twist. He needed to protect her always, keep her safe for not only herself but him.
She pulled herself up enough out to rest on her elbows, her feet kicking below the water. He liked the suit she had chosen; it flattered her. Not that much did not flatter her. He would be hard pressed to find anything that would make her unattractive to him.
She pouted, “Are you sure you’re not going to come in?”
Tony stuck out his bottom lip, mocking her. “No, baby.”
“But why not?”
“Because I like watching you.”
Her smile was all flavors of seductive, “I thought you liked touching me.”
“Cheeky,” Tony chuckled, and she shrugged, looking proud of herself. He brought his vodka to his lips, taking a long swig.
“I was thinking…” she said catching his attention again. “We could have some fun. If you came to sit on the side of the pool…”
Tony chuckled again at her insinuation, his mind picturing her perfect lips around the head of his dick. “Are you insatiable?” She began removing her top and he held out his hand, laughing. “Y/N, darling. Rhodey should be here any moment.” She pouted again, hesitating. “As much as I would love that… those goods are for me, hmm?”
“Always,” she returned, straightening herself back out. She whined, “But why are you always having to work?”
“It’s not always. Don’t be overdramatic, kitten.”
“I can’t help it,” she grumbled.
Tony pushed his sunglasses down, peering at her over the top of them. “I’ll make it up to you. I bought a new toy.” She brightened at that and he grinned in response. “It’s sure to keep things fresh. Plus… I do owe you a night out, don’t I? Let’s make a date out of it.”
“Saddle Peak Lodge?” Tony’s brow furrowed and she shrugged. “I got bored, and I was looking at food places around here.”
“Sure. Whatever you want,” Tony said sincerely, taking another drink.
A song came on and she immediately smiled mischievously at him. “Oh, look, it’s our song.”
“Our song?” Tony asked, his lips upturned in a smirk.
She nodded.
He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart
“I’m even swimming and you’re watching,” she said, biting her bottom lip before pushing away from the side. She drug her eyes away from him before diving back underneath the water. Tony’s eyes followed her through the water, listening to the lyrics of the song she had deemed theirs. He would chase her all over town, that was for sure.
<><><>
On Tony’s laptop, Y/N’s location of her phone popped up. He saw it was in The Flats and his teeth gritted as he realized where she was.
“That’s Liam’s place,” Tony said out loud, in disbelief.
Liam had been her friend first, even though he was Tony’s employee. Liam was one of the guards at the escort service. And he was one of the highest paid of Tony’s employees there. He was good at what he did and also helped Tony dole out physical prowess on special assignments that needed it. But he had an admittedly soft spot for the girls in the service, Y/N especially when she was still working there. He had seen it himself, Liam making sure she was comfortable and giving her attention. It had made him jealous at first but when he realized Y/N had no interest in him, he had brushed it off. She was oblivious to his adoration, something Tony had actually found amusing when he realized it.
The fact she had decided to hole up with him and that Liam had actually agreed to it… Tony felt a huge flame of betrayal. He had treated Liam well, had he not? Why this backstabbing when it was clear as day Y/N was doing something wrong?
Happy asked from the front seat, “What did you say?”
Tony snapped, closing his laptop roughly, “She’s at Liam’s. That… fucking prick. Anything to try to get close to Y/N.” Tony chewed on his bottom lip and grabbed his phone again, his temper flared. He texted furiously. “Looks like someone is going to get a promotion tonight. And I’m losing one of my best because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
<><><>
Nine months ago…
Tony strolled in from the balcony, adjusting his sleeves. He had gone out for some air, leaving Y/N inside with the other Avengers. He spotted her sitting on one of the couches, Steve nearby. Steve was amused by whatever Y/N had said, his smile wide and her quickly explaining something. He made his way back over, coming to her side just as she finished.
“Cap,” Tony greeted him.
“Tony,” Steve returned, still laughing lightly.
Y/N was all smiles still. “You didn’t tell me Steve was so funny.”
“I didn’t know I had to. Rogers is usually the stick in the mud,” Tony quipped.
“She’s merely amused at my complete inept at cultural references,” Steve said, smiling warmly again in her direction.
“It’s actually quite embarrassing for him.” Y/N quipped, much to Steve’s amusement. “But we can forgive him. Just like we forgive you for your sarcastic jokes, Tony.” Y/N perked up and said, “You guys don’t have drinks. Let me fix that.”
She walked off and Steve leveled Tony with a look. Tony cocked his head, “What? You’re looking at me all self-righteously.”
“Is she…?”
Tony did not have to work hard at figuring out what Steve was trying to get at. He snorted at Steve’s prude response to her and being unable to outright ask if she was a prostitute. “Was,” Tony corrected. “Actually, worked for my service. She’s shaped up quite nicely, I would dare to say.”
Steve nodded in agreement, “She plays the part well. Charming. Polite.”
“What gave it away, pray tell?”
Steve snorted and said, “Honestly? She’s too pretty for you to be your wife.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn’t.”
The two of them were sharing a laugh as Y/N walked back up.
“Plus, the service,” Steve said under his breath, seeing she was carrying two glasses for them specifically and none for herself.
“Quite the whole package,” Tony said in a normal volume and she looked at him expectantly as she held out the glasses to them. Tony merely leaned forward giving her a peck on her forehead. His arm snaked around her waist and brought her to his side. “She’s so well behaved.”
“Because that’s the only thing that matters,” Y/N replied teasingly, tapping him on the nose, earning a wide grin in response from him and a kiss.
<><><>
One leg hooked over your opposite knee, you settled back further on the couch cushions. Liam had fallen asleep further down the couch to a movie and you were speaking quietly on the phone to Xavier. “Yeah, I made it home. I just don’t understand—”
You yelped at the sound of the front door being kicked in down the hall. You scrambled, dropping the phone as Liam jumped up, half asleep still. He was looking around wildly and even in his confusion, threw himself in front of you, blocking you from direct line of the hall. You looked over your shoulder frightened, taking in the tall wall of windows.
When the first man walked from the hallway into the wide room, you relaxed, immediately recognizing him. Then reality hit you again and you realized the only reason he would be here. He was one of Tony’s and you knew what was at the end of this, your heart pounding with each one that walked in. The next three you recognized too.
Lastly, Tony came striding in and you exhaled shakily, releasing the breath you did not know you had even been holding in anticipation of him. You had not been on this side of his anger before and the mere sight of him was threatening. In his tailored jacket and slacks, his gleaming watch… he was everything the mob boss you knew put fear into other people’s hearts. He was here on business, not pleasure. His body was completely tense, his eyes focused in on Liam and you standing in the middle of the living room. You swallowed sharply, your resolve wavering under his ferocious gaze, cursing yourself internally for making him so mad.
No one was moving and time seemed suspended. The thing that drew you back to reality was Xavier was still trying to talk to you on the phone on the floor. You swept down to pick it up.
“I’ll call you back. It’s fine. Love you,” you told him quickly, before hanging up and tossing your phone beside you on the ledge. Tony’s jaw set at the last phrase uttered and you had said it without even thinking. It was not abnormal to say it to Xavier but now was definitely not the time. You informed him stiffly, “It’s my gay friend. You know. The one you think I slept with in Seattle? Who is not interested in pussy at all?” Tony was not saying anything, just glaring daggers through you, which further set you on edge. His men were standing at attention and your gaze swept over them before landing on him again. Maybe if you just went without a fight now, it would be okay. You rolled your eyes, trying to keep up the façade that you had not pressed him past his patience and everything was just going to pan out. “God, FINE. I’m coming! You didn’t have to be so dramatic.”
Tony held up a hand, stalling your movement, throwing you off balance. Your feet settled back on the ground, coming to a stop by Liam’s shoulder, waiting for his next movement. His gaze flicked to Liam, who was looking extremely uncomfortable.
“Who called who?” he asked in an eerily calm voice.
“W-what?” Liam stammered.
“Who. Called. Who?”
Liam shot you a look, nervous at being under Tony’s scrutinizing and threatening shadow. You gave him a slight nod and Tony noticed, his jaw clenching at the interaction. At the solidarity. You had a sinking feeling that was a huge misstep.
“She called me.”
“She called you,” Tony said slowly, eyes boring into you now.
There was jealously swimming in his eyes that you had called someone else – another man – instead of him. That had been your intention hadn’t it? To make him jealous. But now that it was coming to fruition, all you felt was dread. He tore his eyes away from you to look back at Liam.
“So, your first instinct wasn’t to, I don’t know, call me?” Tony asked. “Ask me if you should go picking my little, darling wife up from the airport?” Tony took a few steps closer, all swagger in his step. “That didn’t cross your mind, Liam?”
Liam admitted, nervousness apparent, “No, sir. I knew you were fighting.”
“You knew we were fighting.” Tony’s tone was condescending.
“Yes.”
“And what? You were just going to pick her up from the airport, bring her here. And then what?”
“She asked to stay the night. And she said she was going to leave in the morning. Early. 6am I think is the time she told me. So she could go back home to you.”
Tony threw you a taunting look, “Hmm, back to me. Seems like that’s what she��s been avoiding actually.” You opened your mouth, but he cocked his head, the playfulness from seconds ago again. You closed it. Tony directed at Liam, “Who employs you?”
“You, sir.”
“So, you would think it would behoove you to fall back on that relationship rather than catering to the wife. I mean, she’s not the one your indebted to, is she?”
“Tony, I—” you tried to cut in.
“Shut…” Tony said, his eyes not leaving Liam, his finger held up to you stiffly. “Your fucking mouth, Y/N. I’m not talking to you.”
“How many friends of yours have I killed?” Tony deadpanned at Liam. You did not like where this was going.
“Um, zero. I think,” Liam said, sweat visible on his forehead.
Tony narrowed his eyes slightly and looked back at one of his men. “Is that right? I haven’t killed any of the men at the service?” His eyes swept over his personal guards and they all shook their head. Tony’s eyes snapped back to Liam and he looked thoughtful. “Huh. That’s surprising. But…” he closed the space between the two of them and you had to admire that although Liam looked nervous, he did not back away. “Then again, none of them betrayed me like this.”
Before Liam could react, Tony’s arm lashed out and his hand closed in around his neck. Liam winced at Tony’s fingers digging into his windpipe, squeezing tightly. Tony yanked Liam close and hissed into his ear, “I know how you feel about her. I’ve seen it. And the fact you thought you could get her here… get a foot in—”
“That wasn’t it!” Liam interrupted nervously.
“You’re a terrible liar. And I’m sick of people lying to me,” Tony snarled, letting go of Liam roughly, causing him to lose his balance. Tony backed off from Liam and snapped in your direction. “Grab your shit, Y/N.” You faltered, apprehension freezing you to the spot. He suddenly shouted, “Now!”
That got you to jump to action.
As you grabbed your phone and your small bags, you heard movement behind you and whipped around in alarm. You screamed when the first hit was laid across Liam’s face. Tony had stepped back and his men had come forward.
Tony had a vice like grip on your arm, yanking you sideways back towards the hall.
“Tony!” you pleaded panicked, trying to look over your shoulder as he dragged you away at where Liam was surrounded by the four men, punch after punch laying into his face and body.
He stopped, jolting you. He forcibly turned you, so you could look back at the scene in the living room, pointing at it. “This is your fault,” he spat at you. He wrenched you to him, his breath hot on your face. His eyes were wild as he told you, “Next time, think about what you’re doing when you go around trying to piss me off. Because anyone that sees Liam’s face after this is going to do that thinking for you. No one is going to want to help you when you’re being a little brat!” His fingers dug in and you winced. “And your punishment hasn’t even started yet, kitten.”
~~~
Forever tags: @coconutqueen21
Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls 
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Text
Dusty Black Coat
Summary: Tommy Shelby is famous for his dusty black coat - it's part of his signature look. But, really, it's not just his anymore...it's his sister's as well. 
Word Count: 2765
Trigger Warnings: References to sexual assault after the third set of asterisks (***).
A/N: Hey hey hey, how are we all doing? I’m so happy to finally share this fic with you, it’s one that I’ve worked really hard on and it was one of the first ideas I had for a Peaky Blinders fic. As usual, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it!!
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Tommy and Y/N Shelby had a relationship that no one could quite make sense of. Some people argued that the siblings were too similar for their own good, and that was the reason behind their seemingly constant arguing.  
But in between all of that, there were moments of tenderness. These often occurred in complete silence, as they simply enjoyed the other's company. Amidst the hustle and bustle of a Friday night in the Garrison, Y/N could often be found with her head rested on her older brother's shoulder, sipping a gin as they watched Arthur and John's drunken antics with soft smiles on their faces. Or, if you happened to glimpse through the window of the Shelby residence on Watery Lane, you wouldn't be surprised to see the pair curled up in front of the fire, reading late at night.
Yes, it was a complicated relationship to say the least.
Then Tommy went to France, and the residents of Small Heath realised just how much Y/N loved her big brother.  Of course, she missed all of her brothers while they were away, yet it was the one that the 18-year-old spend the most time yelling at that she clearly missed the most. It wasn't tears or words that communicated it, however. It was the fact that Y/N Shelby was nearly always walking the streets wearing Tommy's long, black coat.
The seven-year gap in age between the siblings meant that it was very oversized on her body to begin with. But as the years passed and the war continued raging on, the coat grew to suit Y/N quite nicely as she moved into her twenties.
When Tommy returned home, no one knew that him and his brothers were coming back, so the family didn't have chance to prepare. In fact, the first time that he saw Y/N, after four years away fighting, she was fast asleep. Upon closer inspection, Tommy had noticed that she was clutching his coat close to her chest and frowned at Polly, who had followed him, in confusion.
"She's barely let go of it since you left," and with those words Tommy found himself mimicking the gentle smile that graced Polly's face.
Since that day, a newfound understanding was created between Tommy and Y/N. Yes, they still argued (a lot, as any member of the Shelby clan would testify), but there was also now an unbreakable bond between the siblings. No one, not even the two themselves, knew what was so different about it, as nothing really changed in their relationship. But there was something there.
Oh, and it was also as clear as day that Tommy's sweeping black coat was definitely now Y/N’s as well...
***
Y/N loved the glamour of race days, no matter what business was occurring alongside them. Getting dressed up, having a few drinks, catching up with friends that she hadn't seen in a while; yes, she adored going to the races.
Everyone usually stumbles straight into the Garrison upon the return to Small Heath, and continues the party there. Tonight, however, not everyone chose to go to the cosy pub.
Y/N knew that her work could wait until the morning, but the meeting today was crucial for the expansion process of the Shelby Company Limited, and she wanted to get it done now.  
No one had been into her office for hours, and when she had left earlier that day Y/N had neglected to close the window properly, so the cold October air had seeped into every nook and cranny of the room. She tried to concentrate on the papers in front of her, but her thin (but beautiful) dress did nothing to keep the cold at bay and she couldn't write properly with her fur shawl on. Sighing, Y/N put her pen down and made her way to Tommy's office to see if it was any warmer in there. She hated working in an office that wasn't her own, it was too distracting, but she had to decide which was the lesser evil: distraction through cold, or distraction through location. As she looked around Tommy's grand office, however, she found the perfect solution to her issue: Tommy's coat was hanging on a stand next to the door. With a triumphant smile on her face, Y/N marched back to her office with the heavy material sitting nicely on her body.
An hour later, she was still going with her paperwork, still wearing Tommy's coat, and completely oblivious to the time and anything else going on around her. So, naturally, Y/N didn't notice her brother appearing in the doorway to her office, having noticed the light glowing within the room.
"It's not like you to miss a night at the Garrison."
Y/N jumped what felt like a mile in the air, dropping her pen in the process, and placed her hand on her heart. "Jesus Christ, Tommy! I bloody hate it when you sneak up on me like that!"
A small chuckle fell from Tommy's lips as he sat down on the chair on the other side of her desk. "We had a good day today, Y/N," Tommy stated before lighting a cigarette, "We're moving up in the world." He paused, examining his younger sister thoughtfully. "And that, Y/N/N, means that you can afford to buy your own coat." Tommy's serious tone was, in Y/N's opinion, completely undermined but the glimmer of a smile that graced his face for a matter of seconds.
Y/N huffed dramatically, "It's called being resourceful, Thomas. My office was like an ice box, and your coat was just hanging there. Really, if you're that possessive over it you shouldn't leave it lying around." She raised her eyebrows and smirked at her big brother as she put her papers back into the drawer and locked it. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I actually came here to get that so, come on, give it here"
"You can't be serious"
"I'm always serious, sweetheart."
Reluctantly, Y/N stood up, removed the warm coat and handed it over. Tommy put it on himself, before leaning over and turning out the light on her desk. "Fine, leave me to freeze to death, then you'll regret it."
"Wear something sensible next time then."
Y/N simply responded by sticking her middle finger up as she walked past him, and onto the streets of Birmingham.
(Barely two minutes into their journey, however, Tommy gave in. Hand in his pocket, he opened his arm up and Y/N cuddled into his side, his arm and half of his coat wrapped tightly around her. Suffice to say the pair felt the warmest that they had been since the war began.)
***
The damp early morning mist hung low over the grounds of Arrow House, and the sun was slowly beginning to rise in the distance. Y/N had barely slept, tossing and turning over and over again in her bed, her mind constantly replaying her argument with Tommy the night before. A rival gang had made threats towards the Shelby clan over a week ago, and Tommy had elected not to mention it to anyone. She didn't know why she was surprised, or shocked. But still, yet another row had ensued with her older brother.
As the clock on her bedside table ticked over to hit 5am, Y/N felt a desperate need to walk and think and breathe. And so, still wearing her nightgown, she made her way over to the stables, only stopping briefly to collect Tommy's heavy coat to keep her warm, not really thinking about her actions.
Y/N didn't know how long she had been in the stables. She had run a hand over all of the horses, speaking to them in hushed tones as she did so. Memories of her childhood came flooding back to her, and she was hit with a wave of sadness as she realised that the simplicity of their old life was long gone. Instead, she only had these lone moments to cherish, away from the chaos that Tommy's ambition had brought with it. Anger towards her brother hit Y/N once again, and yet she found herself hugging his coat closer to her, seeking comfort in it that everything would be okay in the end.
Thomas Shelby, she thought, humourlessly, the king of providing people with conflicting emotions; sounds about right.
She was removed from her thoughts, however, as Y/N heard her name being called out from afar. Speaking of the devil, she mused; but she decided not to alert him to her whereabouts. As Tommy's voice got nearer, she realised that she had heard him use that tone of voice once before, panic-stricken and desperate: when Charlie was taken. Guilt coursed through Y/N's body, and yet part of her felt a small amount of satisfaction. He needed to be reminded of the importance of family, something that had escaped him in the months following Grace's death, and to experience some raw emotion for once.
Moments later, Tommy crashed through the stable doors, wild eyes searching the place frantically. When they landed on his sister's figure perched on a bale of hay, he let out a breath that he didn't even know that he had been holding. Upon finding Y/N's bed empty when he woke up, and seeing the front door slightly ajar, complete, unadulterated fear had consumed his entire being. The only thought that ran through his brain was they've taken her...they've taken her...they've taken her...
And so seeing her, safe, unharmed and swathed in his coat (as she so frequently was), broke down any remaining barriers that were still left standing.
Tommy quickly gathered her into his arms, hugging her closer than ever before. Y/N was stunned – she and Tommy never hugged properly; it just wasn't their way. But, despite her anger, she melted into it, not wanting to let this moment slip away.
As Tommy pulled away, holding Y/N at arm's length to examine her for any sign of harm and finding nothing, he suddenly found himself able to speak again, though his voice hoarse from shouting: "Even when you're mad at me, you can't leave without my fucking coat, can you?" Y/N, unable to hide a small smile, slapped his arm and started to make her way up to the house, Tommy following closely behind, not wanting her to wander off alone again.
***
It was no secret that Y/N Shelby was a fiercely independent young woman (this often clashed rather badly with Tommy's desire to control, and the combination sparked many an argument between the pair). She hated people mollycoddling her, and so when she was still having nightmares a month after being sexually assaulted in a London club, Y/N didn't mention it to anyone. All she did was try to continue her work and life as normally as she could, constantly pushing her exhaustion to one side.
Of course, what she didn't bank on was the fact that Thomas fucking Shelby could read her like a fucking book. And a children's one at that.
He'd been there the night it happened: whilst Tommy had met with the club's owner, Y/N was dancing with a friend. She'd slipped off to get another drink from the bar (on the house, obviously) when one man thought he'd try his luck. Reeking of alcohol and speech slurred, he'd been incredibly...persistent...and because they were at the end of the bar on a crowded Saturday night, no one had noticed as the drunk pulled her into a back room, tearing at her dress as she tried to fight him off.
Well, let's just say that he wasn't very lucky that night – Tommy had noticed his sister's absence and somehow managed to find her before anything went any further. To this day, Y/N still didn't know how her big brother had done it, all she knew was that she'd never been so relieved to see him. She didn't really remember the journey to Ada's house, where Tommy had taken her to be looked after  while he went and hunted down the man who had dared to do this to his little sister: he had only managed to get in a few punches before turning his attention to Y/N, and it wasn't enough. The only thing that Y/N could clearly recollect was cuddling into her brother's chest as she sobbed, knowing that she was now safe. He'd buttoned his coat around her trembling figure, and to Y/N it was like he was still hugging her as he drove, the one thing keeping her grounded.
She felt the man's hands on her body every time she began to drift off to sleep. But she wouldn't tell anyone. Carrying on like everything was normal was just her way of coping with things, and she didn't want anyone to take that away from her.
It was eight o'clock at night when Y/N returned to the offices of Shelby Company Limited. She had been at the gin factory all day, checking on the progress being made there, and she was now more than ready for Tommy to take them back to Arrow House so that she could put her feet up. But, to her dismay, Tommy was still working away at his desk.
"Please don't tell me you're gonna be long, Tom?"
The man in question looked up at his sister, taking in her slumped posture and the darkness underneath her eyes. Instead of replying, he simply poured two whiskeys, grabbed his papers and sat down on the sofa in his office, gesturing for Y/N to do the same. Sighing, she removed her coat and hat and collapsed onto the space beside him, taking a large swig of the whiskey once she was comfortable.
"I'll be as quick as I can."
And with that, Tommy continued to read. Lulled by the warmth, whiskey and peace, Y/N's eyelids began to droop and (despite numerous attempts to stifle it) finally let out a long yawn. Not taking his eyes off the document in front of him, Tommy moved the remaining papers from his knee and placed them on the arm of the sofa.
"Go on," he said, in what was (for Tommy, at least) a lighter tone of voice.
Letting out a dry chuckle, Y/N looked over at her elder brother and replied: "I'm not 4 years-old anymore, Tommy, I will not -"
But before she could finish her sentence, she let out another yawn, causing Tommy to finally look away from his work to raise his eyebrows at her with a smirk.
"Fine," Y/N grumbled, "But if we're here much longer I'll just annoy you until we leave."
She slowly started to lay down onto the sofa, resting her head on Tommy's lap, and he subconsciously found himself stroking her hair with his free hand. When Y/N was much younger, this set-up wasn't unusual in the slightest, and the young woman now found herself feeling far more relaxed than she had been in months. So much so that she kept finding herself nodding off, but would shake herself awake every time, not wanting the nightmares to begin playing again.
He didn't show it, but Tommy was disheartened that his sister still wasn't going to sleep. He had hoped that the familiar position alone might be enough to send her off, as Tommy knew that he had quite a bit of reading left to do and wanted Y/N to get some rest. Tommy was more than aware that his sister hadn't been the same since that night in London, but didn't want to mention anything to her for fear that she'd bite his head off.  
The great Thomas Shelby was scared of his younger sister, who'd have believed it?
After a few moments of silent thought, he realised that the solution was simple. He reached around to grab his coat, which he had thrown over the back of the sofa, and placed it over Y/N's body like a blanket. When she looked up at him, silently posing a question, Tommy spoke to her softly.
"Get some rest, sweetheart. I won't leave you."
Tears welled up in the younger Shelby's eyes as she nodded slightly, grateful (for once) that Tommy knows her better than she knows herself. Y/N curled her knees up slightly and snuggled in to the warm, dark material. Feeling her brother's hand securely on her shoulder as he rubbed his thumb backwards and forwards over it, and inhaling the scent of whiskey, cigarettes and just Tommy, Y/N knew that nothing could get to her...and so she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
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sweetsforhikari · 3 years
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Happy Birthday, Sakuya 🌸
Without you, there won’t be Mankai Company and our story together wouldn’t have begun. In honor of your birthday and the release of your second solo song, please read the letters that I wrote for you about how the troupe members think about you.
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a.n. 
I know the format might be weird, but I wrote this addressing Sakuya, so the ‘you’ here refers to Sakuya. I just thought of writing something for him to read so yes, do take note that you need to read everything below as if you’re Sakuya!
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Masumi Usui
Your days of taking care of him as a leader, as a friend, as a brother really made an impact to him. Although Masumi never explicitly reciprocated your love, he has grown to listen and respect you. Allowing you to be involved in his business, hugging him, choosing to depend on you, and taking the time to listen to your words are mere proofs of him considering you as part of his family.
Both you and Masumi never really knew what true family should be like, but I’m sure your time together made both of you understand what it meant to have a brother who would stick by your side no matter what.
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Tsuzuru Minagi
He has immense faith in you, Sakuya. All the scripts he had written for your role have definitely been adjusted to suit you and you alone. He would have never written a role where he knew you couldn’t perform in.
Without you as the leader, he would also have gone mad dealing with the antiques of the other members. As much as he acts as the mediator, the middle ground of the chaos ensuing in Spring Troupe from time to time, he appreciates your presence as the leader who has grown so much more dependable throughout the years. 
Dare I say, sometimes, he glances at you and smiles softly, proud you as one of his little brothers that he cherishes deeply.
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Itaru Chigasaki
Sure, he might view you as a token of gacha luck to bring that SSR home, but you’re definitely more than that. Him accepting his role as the father of Spring Troupe was his way of committing to the found family that he has now. The family that you have established.
Deep down, he’s eternally grateful for your ceaseless attempts to convince him to stay and perform with the troupe during Romeo and Julius. Without you, he wouldn’t have met this group of people with whom he could drop his mask and completely be his true self.
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Citron
He enjoys seeing your face light up with wonder and excitement not because he takes pleasure in teasing you, but I believe he wants to preserve that childlike innocence in you as much as possible.
Despite what others might think, I genuinely believe Citron only wants you to feel happy and ignore the negativity and evil that lie in this world. The greatest pleasure in his days has always been to see you smile right after you wake up and before you fall asleep at night. Don’t you think that’s why he enjoys telling you those magical, bombastic, wonderous stories?
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Chikage Utsuki
Admittedly, he still enjoys tricking you during your daily coin toss, but he will stop at nothing to ensure you do not need to worry about a thing in life.
After all, you were the first to not give up on him and still saw him favorably (or should I say objectively without any judgment) despite his actions towards Izumi and Mankai in general.
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Putting all the other troupe members under the cut so this won’t get too long! 
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Tenma Sumeragi
You do know this child actor genius took the audition for Mankai because of you, right? You, who thought your acting was sub-par, turned out to inspire a veteran to face his fears and took that step.
How could Tenma ever thank you properly for that? That’s why as a fellow troupe leader, he would make sure to practice often with you, giving you acting pointers whenever he could. Not to demean you, but to lift you up so both of you can bloom together on stage as equals.
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Yuki Rurikawa
He comments about your naivety, but I dare say he actually envies you for it. Being part of the minority and adopting a cynical approach to life proves to be tiring at times. The positive outlook in life despite your background is definitely something that he has considered to adopt at some point in time.
To him, you’re a reminder that being positive is an option. As much as he seems baffled by your innocence, he is part of the crew that does his best to preserve that side of you.
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Muku Sakisaka
You two are angels! I can only imagine both of you continue being the precious babies that you are. Muku adores you and definitely considers you one of his precious older brothers.
His enthusiasm is reciprocated with you around and your presence lifts up his spirit as well. You are each other’s healing spirit in a way. Always be there for each other, and just by being together, both of you remind all of us that staying pure is a choice and such sight heals us on a daily basis.
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Misumi Ikaruga
He’s off on scavenging triangles for your birthday! Apparently, he heard the cats sang praises about you the other day. As thanks for being his friend and for being kind to the kitties, he’s going to find a special triangle just for you.
Thank you for being so kind and understanding to him, and for becoming his faithful friend, one of his precious treasures in life.
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Kazunari Miyoshi
How many times have you appeared in Kazu’s Inste feed, I wonder. He always seem to find joy in sharing what he found that might be of interest to you.
Both of you are expressive so it’s no surprise either when Kazu wants to hear your opinion on anything. Hope you find those times to be exciting. It is after all, quite rare, to find someone to be candid with these days.
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Kumon Hyodo
Both of you are quite literally sunshine in human form. At times too bright for some, but that’s why both of you should continue being you.
Even Kumon admits watching you lifts his spirits, can you imagine the influence you have in improving the mood of those around you? Sakuya, as Kumon said, please stay true to yourself and keep being you. Your smile and positivity radiate and I honestly think we all need someone like you in our lives.
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Banri Settsu
Don’t feel bad if he lets you borrow his clothes, or if he buys you stuff! It’s his way of letting you know he cares deeply for you. Please don’t think that you’re not worthy of receiving such gifts or even having his company.
If anything, all he wants is to see you all happy with that beaming smile. Keep being the sunshine that you are because I’m sure that’s what Banri wants for you!
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Juza Hyodo
The passionate duo; both of you talk about acting a lot and I’m glad you have someone to share your thoughts and passion with.
Juza considers you as a companion of some sort, he seems to always asking you to practice or do etudes together. Just knowing that both of you can support one another in your endeavours is heartwarming. But, please don’t eat too much sweets if you can’t take it. I’m sure Juza would understand.
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Taichi Nanao
He likes to try out new things and he’s grateful that you are always open to his idea and agrees to accompany him whenever he tries them out.
Thank you for being a great friend for Taichi, but please make sure that you guys don’t go overboard and hurt yourselves. Wouldn’t want that to happen when you’re having fun, right?
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Omi Fushimi
How’s the Neapolitan that he cooked for you today? It must be delicious! All the love and affection he has for you has always been included in his cooking.
Thank you for being the best at helping him out in the kitchen and actually doing the chores. He appreciates it a lot, especially since the dishes don’t clean themselves and with more hands on deck, he is eternally grateful.
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Sakyo Furuichi
Both of you really have come along way, from him being doubtful about your potential until today. You did it, Sakuya! You proved him wrong, alright.
I believe you are his reminder to stay true to what your dreams are. In both of your cases, you both want to be an acknowledged actor. What a long way you two have come. Remember that you have the power to prove people wrong with your earnest determination and always remember that you manage to get Sakyo’s approval on your leadership and acting skills! 
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Azami Izumida
This kid needs to learn a lot from you and he knows that even though he doesn’t readily admit to it. Being a leader isn’t a walk in the park, he realises that as soon as he meets the other troupe members.
Although both of you come from an entirely different background, with him being rebellious and all, he is bound to understand that being earnest as Sakyo has said, will benefit him in the long run. You are a great example for him to follow, and don’t need to feel the pressure! You’re fine the way you are, and this kid will soon learn so both of you can bloom together!
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Tsumugi Tsukioka
I’m pretty sure the cherry blossoms in the courtyard are well taken care of by Tsumugi because it also reminds him of you.
He looks out for you in the smallest ways which you might not have noticed. I’m pretty sure you realise by now that you can talk to him whenever you’re troubled, right? He will listen and he will be grateful he could be an emotional support for you.
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Tasuku Takato
Have you been working out a lot with him? I could start seeing those muscle lines on your arms and legs. Keep up the good work!
He cheers you on by always thinking of training menus for you, knowing that your motivation to be stronger is to build your stamina for better endurance while acting. Tasuku might not say anything, but deep down he appreciates you depending on him for such matters. (Don’t tell him I said this, please. He’ll deny it anyway)
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Hisoka Mikage
Being in the Christmas play together must have made you guys closer. Hisoka even mentioned how he looks forward to acting with you again.
Your caring nature did not go unnoticed. I believe he even gave you some marshmallows to try? And if that’s not him accepting you as one of his own, I don’t know what is.
Thank you for always looking out for him. He has you to thank for all the times he slept and was protected by the cold weather. 
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Homare Arisugawa
I’m curious whether you actually understand Homare when he’s gushing about an inspiration for his poems. But, you always seem to listen intently and take the time to attempt at digesting the verses. 
Homare adores you for that; not everyone can appreciate his poems, he knows that very well, but those who put in the effort to understand his world will always be remembered. And you, Sakuya, are one of them.
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Azuma Yukishiro
Being one of the oldest members of the company also meant that witnessing youth in action is always something that he looks out for everyday. This might explain why he’s a bit sad you’re one year older and more mature now.
His wish for you is simply to let you have no worries in life as you experience youth and the splendour it brings. You’re still young, so many doors of opportunities left to open. With that in mind, feel free to embrace your passion and continue pushing forward to reach your dream, Sakuya. He has your back and nothing will ever get in your way anymore.
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Guy
Honestly, please convince him that you enjoy Citron’s company. I’m confident that you never once considered Citron to be a nuisance or burden of any sort.
Just know that Guy is at your service for all the trouble that Citron has caused you. And in times of need, he will always be ready to assist you.
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38 notes · View notes
hopelesshawks · 3 years
Text
Official Accounts Part 35 (Bakugo Route)- Whole Again 18+ NSFW Version
Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result
If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa
It’s been made pretty clear throughout the fic but just to make it even more so the characters are AGED UP. They’re about 24 when this fic happens. This one isn’t for minors but don’t worry there’s a SFW version for y’all here so you can still enjoy the story. I promise you’re not missing out on much
Warnings for unprotected sex, fingering, dom/sub themes, dirty talk, and mention of reader having a vagina
Masterlist
You have willingly fallen off many a building since you first began the ‘think fast’ tradition. First was the UA dorms and since then you’ve also fallen off every apartment building you’ve lived in at least once. All of this to say that you know what it’s like to fall and you know what senses and feelings you like to focus on when you’re in free fall. Typically if you’re falling someplace new you’ll stare at the surrounding buildings as they streak past. More familiar places you typically just close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of falling.
Falling with Katsuki is different.
You pay no mind to the buildings rushing past the two of you. You dare not close your eyes. Instead you focus on the feelings of his warm arms wrapped around you as you look down into beautiful crimson eyes. The eyes of one of your best friends. The eyes of the first person to break your heart. The eyes of your first love. “Hold on tight,” he tells you with a soft smirk. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck and then wrap your legs around his waist as well. He brings one hand to caress your cheek briefly, his look so incredibly soft, before dropping both his hands behind him to send the both of you flying back upwards. He helps you slide around so you’re piggybacked on him with an ease developed from years of doing this ritual. Then he starts directing the two of you further and further away from the venue. “Where are you taking me explosion boy?” you ask in his ear. “It’s a surprise dumbass, just wait and see,” he insists. Eventually you leave the downtown area and move further out to the suburbs and soon enough you start to recognize some of the streets. Bakugo touches down at a public park with an old playset only a few minutes walk from UA’s campus. He carefully lets you back down onto the ground as you take in the space around you. “You brought me to our park,” you say in wonder as you move towards the rusty swingset nearby. “I did,” Bakugo confirms with a smile as each of you takes a seat on one of the swings.
You and Bakugo used to sneak off campus to come here on a regular basis. There’s a dent in the jungle gym where you’d lashed out at it with your quirk one day when one of your classmates had pissed you off. There’s a hole in one of the tunnels that Bakugo had created after a particularly contentious fight with Midoriya. If you looked long enough you’d probably even find where you and Katsuki had carved your initials the night of graduation. The park was filled with memories of the two of you together and this is your first time back since the two of you had broken up. “We used to stay out here for hours when we could sneak away,” you recall wistfully. “Those were some of my favorite memories from the UA days,” Bakugo admits. “Really?” “Obviously,” Bakugo scoffs but then he stops, thinking for a moment. You watch him curiously as he takes a deep breath, staring determinedly ahead as he continues in a softer tone “it’s the place I promised you forever.”
You know exactly what night he’s referring to. It was about a week before graduation and the reality of high school being over and your careers beginning was hitting Katsuki hard, so the two of you had decided to escape out to the park. You both sat on the swings then just like you are now and you looked at the stars and talked about the future. “I remember. You said there was no future you imagined for yourself without me in it,” you admit quietly. “I meant it,” he replies. “I know.” “I still mean it.” “What?” “I said what I said.” The two of you briefly lapse back into silence as you mull over his words. You gently swing a little as you gather your thoughts. “I’m so-“ “Don’t apologize dumbass you did the right thing. Plus I didn’t bring you here to guilt trip you about the past,” Bakugo interrupts you. “Why did you bring me here?” you ask curiously. “Well... This is where I confessed to you the first time and that seemed to go well. Guess I was hoping it would give me good luck again.” “Katsuki, I... What exactly are you saying?” you ask breathlessly. “I love you, (y/n). I never stopped loving you,” Bakugo finally confesses, dragging his eyes away from the ground so he can look you in yours as he says it. “Even after all this time?” you ask. “Especially after all this time.” “I love you too Katsuki,” you reply before you lean across the short distance between the two swings to press your lips to his.
Katsuki’s reaction is immediate, one of his hands moving to caress your face as he deepens the kiss, pouring every unspoken ‘I love you’ from the past 5 years into it. God he’s missed this. All this time he’s been resigned to never feeling your lips on his again, never feeling your love again, and yet here he is feeling it all in the very spot where it first began. He pulls away slightly to mumble “come here,” against your lips, and you happily let him tug you towards him and into his lap. Your arms wrap around each other as he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks and the tip of your nose before returning to your lips. With each peck Bakugo feels a sweet relief akin to diving into cold water on the hottest day of the year. He had forgotten what it was like to not be heartbroken until this very moment with you once again in his arms. For the first time in five years he is whole again.
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You laugh as Katsuki scowls down at his phone. “Bakugo Hype Squad huh?” you tease which only makes him scowl harder. “They’re idiots,” he huffs. “Yes but they’re your idiots,” you reply before pressing a kiss to Bakugo’s furrowed brow. His face softens almost immediately as he redirects his attention back to you, pocketing his phone. “I’m glad you and Hawks are becoming friends,” you admit. “He’s not half bad I guess,” Bakugo scoffs. “That’s practically a raving review coming from you.” “Whatever.” “Wait oh my god,” you gasp as realization dawns on you. “Is that what those tweets were about yesterday? Did you and Hawks plan this together? That’s adorable Katsuki,” you laugh and the scowl returns to his face immediately. “I’m not cute dumbass,” he grouses, hands tightening minutely around your waist. “I hate to break it to you Katsuki but you are the cutest,” you laugh.
One moment you’re laughing, sitting in Katsuki’s lap, and the next you’re on your back, wood chips digging into your skin, breath knocked out of you with him pinning you to the ground. Before you’ve even fully adjusted to the sudden shift Bakugo is leaning down to growl in your ear “I said I’m not cute.” A shiver shoots down your spine and you know he can tell because when he pulls back his crimson eyes are burning with aggression and lust. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re speechless already Doll,” he teases, a smug smirk stretching across his face. “Awfully confident for someone who apparently needed a hype squad,” you fire back. “You know that teasing me is a dangerous game (y/n),” he warns as he leans down closer to you. His hips get close enough to yours that you can feel where he’s starting to harden in his suit pants. His mouth drops down to press kisses to the column of your throat but you try not to let it distract you too much. That would mean he wins. “Really now?” you ask as you roll your hips up into his. He growls again, nipping at your neck in retaliation before his mouth starts traveling further. “Wait, wait, wait Kacchan we’re in a public park,” you hiss, pushing at his shoulders. “And?” he scoffs, although he does halt his progression and lean back to look at you. “And I’m not trying to get arrested for public indecency,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. “Fine, but I’m taking you back to my place.” “You fucking better.”
You’re genuinely surprised Bakugo doesn’t just blast his door open when the two of you finally get to his apartment. He’s been all over you since the park, eager to get you back to his place and alone so he can do with you as he pleases. He’s waited a long time for this and he wants to enjoy every moment of it. As soon as you’re through the door he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. “Katsuki!” you squeal in protest but you still can’t help but giggle as he moves to the bedroom with purpose. Once he gets there he quickly drops you onto the bed, but before you can complain about the rough handling he’s on top of you again and kissing you senseless. His hips grind mercilessly down into yours and you gasp into his mouth as you feel his urgent erection. “Someone’s eager,” you tease. “I’ve been waiting for this. Waiting for you,” he replies as his lips pepper kisses all over your face and his hands find the zipper of your dress. Despite his prior urgency, he removes your dress as if unwrapping a precious gift, cherishing each and every moment. You return the favor as you strip him out of his suit. It’s almost surreal being like this again. Skin sliding against skin as the two of you slowly peel away the layers separating you.
Once the both of you are finally nude Bakugo stops for a moment and leans back so he can look at you more fully. “You are so fucking beautiful, you know that?” he breathes out like a prayer. You blink up at him, at a loss for how to respond in the face of his awe and adoration, before settling on a simple “I love you Bakugo Katsuki.” “I love you too (l/n) (y/n),” he replies before diving back in to press another bruising kiss to your lips. His lust seems to reignite as his hands skim across your sides, luxuriating in the feeling of you beneath him. One of his hands makes its way to your dripping sex, causing you to gasp as he trails his fingers up your labia. “God you’re so fucking wet for me already,” he says before easing a finger inside you. “So fucking tight too. You miss having me that bad doll?” he asks as he adds another finger and begins slowly pumping them in and out of you. “Yes, fuck yes I missed this Katsuki,” you moan. “How badly did you miss it?” he asks as he drags his fingers along your gspot. He still knows your body almost as well as you do and he takes full advantage of that knowledge to have you mewling on just his fingers. “So bad baby,” you moan. “You miss my fingers?” he asks. You nod and his hand immediately stills, causing you to whine in frustration, your hands gripping onto him tightly. “I need to hear you say it,” he growls right in your ear. “I-I missed your fingers. Katsuki please,” you beg. He resumes moving his fingers, even using his thumb to press circles into your clit. “What do you want baby? You gotta be specific,” he teases and you can hear the smirk in his voice but you’re too far gone to try and retaliate. “Need you inside me. Need your dick inside me,” you plead.
The moment you make the request Bakugo removes his fingers in favor of lining his throbbing cock up with your pussy. “You ready?” He asks as the tip of his dick begins to press forward. “Absolutely,” you pant and that’s all Katsuki needs to press deeper and deeper into the tight wet heat of your cunt. He takes it slowly to make sure you have time to adjust, his considerable girth stretching you open as he moves forward. As he finally bottoms out inside of you, your eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming feeling of fullness. “Open your eyes,” he commands and you immediately obey. As your eyes lock onto each other you gasp at the depths of emotion in his carmine eyes. “I’m gonna start moving now, ok?” he asks. “Ok,” you reply breathlessly. His thrusts start out slow and languid, just the smooth rolling of his hips against yours, but neither of you are satisfied with that for long. He quickly brings it up to a brutal pace and you can do nothing but cling to his shoulders and hold on for dear life as he plunges in and out of you. He angles his hips just right to have you seeing stars, unable to hold back your desperate moans and cries of his name. He drops his head to suck bruises into your neck, marking you as his again, as one of your hands tangles in his blonde hair. You can tell by the way his thrusts are growing more erratic that he’s nearing his climax so he brings one of his hands down to your clit to provide the extra stimulation you need to go hurtling towards the brink together. “Together baby. Let’s cum together,” he pants into your ear and soon enough your orgasm crashes over you like a tsunami. Your vaginal walls clench around Katsuki and between that and the beautiful noises you’re making he can’t hold back anymore. With one final thrust he spills his seed inside you, coating your inner walls with his cum as he groans out your name.
By the time both of you come down from your highs you’re both panting and out of breath. Eventually it turns into breathless laughter as what’s just happened finally sinks in. Together again. The two of you are together again. It’s a crazy, surreal, wondrous thought that fills you with a warmth you hadn’t even realized you’d been missing. The moment you’ve caught your breath enough to do so you lean up and kiss Katsuki again, unable to keep the smile from your lips as you do. “I love you,” he mumbles against your lips. “And I you. Thank you for an amazing night,” you reply. “You make it sound like it’s over.” “Is it not?” “I’ve got five years to catch up on Love. You’re not getting any sleep tonight,” Bakugo promises with a smirk and although your eyes widen in surprise at his declaration, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Sleep is for the weak anyway right?
Author’s Note: THE NSFW GOT SO FAR AWAY FROM ME WOW but I love it. I know this took a minute to get to you guys but I hope it was worth the wait. ALSO I have a Ko-fi now! If you wanna support me the link is in my bio
Taglist [open]: @maltese-sparrow @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @captaincyberqueen @ladyzayismultifandom @pixelwisp @cathy8taffy @itskindofafairything @larkspyrr @thatonegeekchick @thesleepysphinx
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voltage-vixen · 3 years
Text
All I Want for Christmas is You
‘Tis the Season of Smut Challenge Day 5
Prompt: “All I want for Christmas is you.” (NSFW)
Fandom: Kings of Paradise (Voltage)
Pairing: Taki Kozaki x MC (Female)
“Thank you again, Taki,” MC praised, holding the necklace he had presented to her for Christmas close to her heart. “It’s absolutely perfect. I’ll cherish it forever.”
“I’m happy you like it,” Taki softly smiled, before swiping MC’s hair to the side of her neck. “The coloring really suits you as well. Come on, let me put it on you so I can admire how good it looks.”
“I would love that,” MC replied, holding her hair while Taki fastened the jewelry around her neck.
While Taki was focusing on the clamp of the necklace, MC stole a glance at the empty tree skirt underneath the illuminating Christmas tree. She still had to share her gift with Taki, and she was beginning to feel a rush of nerves since this year her present was anything but traditional.
“There, all finished,” Taki’s voice jolted MC from her thoughts, as he spun MC around to examine the crafted pendant. “Beautiful….and I’m not just referring to the necklace.”
“Oh, Taki,” MC murmured, reaching out to tenderly stroke the side of his cheek. “I still have to give you your present.”
“There’s no need to rush,” Taki muttered. “I’ll love anything that comes from you, but at the end of the day all I want for Christmas is you.”
Taki leaned in and caught her lips with his own. Their kisses were slow and gentle; their angle deepening as their pace heightened. MC wrapped her arms around his neck, and her body soon melted into the heat of his embrace. The familiar warmth of his hand traveled around to her back to fiddle with her blouse, when she remembered that the present, she had waiting for him contained news of the upmost importance.
“Wait, hold on,” MC interjected, slipping out from Taki’s grasp and took a step backwards. “There’s something I have to tell you first. I have to give your present before we go any further-you’ll understand why when you see it.”
 Sighing, MC gripped the bottom of her shirt, pausing before doing anything else. Taki’s desire was now replaced by lust with the concern growing evident since MC’s knuckles were turning white from firmly clenching the fabric and she was slightly trembling. As he strode over, Taki suspected that her anxiety was over something more trivial than a Christmas present.
“Hey, you know you never need to hide anything from me, right?” Taki assured, tilting her chin up to make eye contact. “You can talk to me about anything. I’ll never judge you. Well, maybe a little depending on what we’re referring to here, but I’ll always love you no matter what.”
Giggling at Taki’s attempt at a lame joke to ease the tension of the situation, MC was grateful and her shoulders instantly relaxed. Gone was all the apprehension stewing within, and she was ready to face Taki driven by a newfound wave of confidence. Once again, MC clutched her blouse and gradually lifted the fabric up to reveal her stomach that she had placed a red bow on. The room was so silent, you could have heard a pin drop as Taki stood there with his brow furrowed, confused for a few moments until the light bulb in his head turned on and he made the correlation.
“MC? A-Are you….Are we…..,” Taki breathed, silently praying his speculation was correct.
“…..Expecting a baby? Yes, yes we are,” MC whimpered, tears pooling in her eyes from the elation of revealing the secret that next Christmas there was another family member that would be celebrating with them.
“This is the best news I could ever imagine receiving,” Taki whispered, lifting MC up and sauntering over to the living room to gently settle her onto the couch. “I adore you. I treasure you, and I love you more than anything.”
His hand traced the bow around MC’s stomach before trailing to the fastened buttons on her blouse, Taki’s masterful fingers unclasping them away to leave the swell of her chest exposed. He worked MC free from her bra, tossing the garment aside as his tongue was drawn to the perk of her nipples. Sensations of pleasure rippled through her core, evoking a lustful groan as MC’s eyes rolled to the back of her head.
“I’m going to take such good care of you,” Taki mumbled, taking the taut of her breast into his mouth.
“And I you, Taki,” MC mewled, her fingers madding streaming through his hair to push him deeper into the crevice of her chest.
Taki’s mouth was driving MC wild. Each lick, lap, and suckle expressed the unspoken words of his adoration for her. Her body never failed to respond to Taki, but today her reactions to him were profound and intense. Perhaps it was the realization that this sexy, caring, loving man that owned her heart and soul created a child with her. A child they would soon one day raise together. The pleasant daydream of what their future lives would entail, to the sweet sheer bliss of Taki’s mouth worshipping her sensitive chest had reached MC’s level of tolerance with foreplay.
“Taki, please! I can’t take anymore,” MC begged, her body writhing in a glaze of longful yearning to encompass the passions of their throes as one.
Taki flashed her a smirk and journeyed his lips down to her abdomen to cover the softness of her skin in delicate kisses. He reached out to entwine their fingers together, and cast his gaze of infatuation over MC. She was going to be the mother of his child, and she seemed to be radiating with beauty even more since she shared the wonderful news with him.
“As you wish, my love,” Taki vowed once he regained his composure. “And since I didn’t thank you earlier, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I sincerely want to share my gratitude for finding your way back to me and changing my life for the better. Thank you for being you and for giving me the best Christmas present I could ever ask for.”
The lovers spent the rest of their Christmas by reveling in the good fortunate blessed upon them in the arms of each other, both eagerly awaiting to celebrate their next Christmas with another member of their family.
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summahsunlight · 4 years
Note
can you do 5,10 and 46 in angst for Poe. Really like your oneshots:)
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Hi anon! Thanks for the request! It is super angsty. Hope you like it!🥺
Title: Damage
Rating: M (for mentions of addiction) 
Word Count: 2071
Pairing: Modern!Poe x Reader
Summary: From 50 Angsty Questions Prompt list (here), #5″Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage?”, “#10 “Do you know what a gunshot wound feels like?”, and #46 “Do you want to die?”
Warnings: Mentions PTSD and addition, swearing, this is probably the most angst filled one yet... it hurts 💔
Poe woke in a cold sweat; sitting up in bed, gasping and clutching his heart.
Nightmares had been common once he’d been released from the hospital six months ago; in the hospital they had given him sedatives to help him sleep. He didn’t have that luxury at home. He was lucky he got two to three hours of sleep a night at home. Shifting, Poe glanced at you, praying that you had not woken up with him.  It wouldn’t be fair if you suffered sleepless nights because of him. Thankfully, you were still asleep.
The movement sent a shockwave of pain up his back and Poe winced.  Biting down on his lip, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and made his way through the dark to the master bathroom. Not bothering to flick the light on, Poe shuffled around in the medicine cabinet looking for the prescription pain meds his doctor had prescribed him after his surgery.
He came up empty. The only thing he could find on the shelf were some left over flu meds from that winter and a bottle of generic Advil. Maybe he had left his meds downstairs in the kitchen.  
It was excoriating climbing down the stairs. He just needed his meds, once he had his meds the pain would stop and maybe he’d be able to sleep. Poe did turn the kitchen light on and began the long process of searching through each and every cabinet for the bottle of pills. But, as it became more and more apparent that he’d run out, he started slamming the cabinets shut in desperation. What the fuck was he going to do without his meds?
“Poe?” your sleepy voice called down the stairs. “Are you okay?”
“Just great!” Poe snapped, angrily. “Actually, I’m fucking great!”
Cautiously you proceeded into the kitchen. Poe had tossed everything out of half the cabinets in his search--and you knew exactly what he was looking for--you’d watched his addiction to the pain medication consume him for the last month. When you voiced your concerns to Poe’s doctor, the prescription had not been refilled, inside he’d referred Poe to a therapist.  “Are you in pain?”
Poe glared at you, fists clenched. “Of course I’m in pain. I’m always in fucking pain, Y/N. Do you know what a gunshot wound feels like? It’s fucking painful! So, yeah, I guess you can say I’m in pain!”
You anxiously glanced around the kitchen. You were used to his anger. He had a lot of it the last six months. No one blamed him. He’d been performing a routine patrol with his unit in Syria when they been ambushed. Poe had been shot three times, the worse one in his back--the bullet narrowly missing his spinal cord.  “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do? Maybe I can rub some of that cream I use on my legs after working out on your back?”
“Wow, you honestly think that natural shit is going to help?” Poe scoffed. “I wasn’t doing yoga; I was shot in the back with a 22 caliber pistol.”
“How about some Motrin?” You suggested, softly. “Your doctor said you could take some of that to ease the pain.”
“I need my fucking medication that you convinced my doctor I didn’t need anymore. Now when I call, he refuses to return them.  The nurses keep referring me to a pain specialist.  I don’t want a specialist, I don’t need a specialist, I just need the damn pills!”
“Those pills are killing you, Poe! You’re dependent on them, even when you aren’t in pain! The doctor, the nurses, they’re just trying to help you.”
Poe kicked the pile of plastic containers he’d tossed from the cabinets. “If they wanted to help me, they’d listen to me when I said that the pain was getting worse, not better! They’d take my word over yours! Not ignore my suffering! Those pills are not killing me, they’re helping me function!”
You felt tears welded in your eyes.  He’d been aggressive and angry since coming off of the medication. The doctor had warned you of this.  You just wanted to help him, but just like tonight, when you offered to help, he shouted at you, pushed you away.  The relationship you both cherished so much was beginning to crumble under the constant strain of his addiction.  “Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage?”
Suddenly all the fight left his body.  Poe saw the tears running rivers down your cheeks.  “You’re right,” he whispered. “Tomorrow, I’ll be out of your hair.  I’m sure I can find an old Army buddy to take me in for a few days until I find a place of my own.  Maybe...maybe you should keep BeeBee.”
“I don’t...I don’t want you to leave,” you cried.
“What else can I do?” Poe questioned. “Our relationship is broken.”
“Broken beyond repair?”
“Not much left to fix, Y/N.”
He was just giving up on you; in retrospect, you should have seen this coming. The grief counselor at the hospital that had worked with Poe while he was recovering had warned you that this might happen. PTSD and addiction didn’t just tear the person up who was a victim of it--it tore up their families as well. And the fact that Poe was giving up his beloved corgi, BeeBee, to you, just signified that perhaps he was giving up on life.
Poe ran his hands through his thick curls.  If he could have left right at that moment, he would have, but he couldn’t think of anyone that would open their door for him at three in the morning.  Growling in frustration, Poe glanced at the stairs, knowing he was going to have to climb them in order to go pack his things. He was just going to have to grit his teeth and fight through the pain.
You stood in the kitchen, containers scattered about, watching as Poe sized the stairs up.  Please, please don’t leave, you wanted to scream at him.  If he left, you knew that he wouldn’t make it.  He would be another statistic. “Do you want to die?”
Refusing to look at you, Poe paused at the bottom of the stairs. Did he? At first, when he woke up in the field hospital, he’d been happy to still be alive--until he found out he was one of the only survivors of the ambush.  Three of his brothers had not made it.  Survivor’s guilt, that had been the fancy term the counselor used. “Somedays I think it would have been better if I’d died.”
“Would it have been better for me? The grief I would have been in...”
“You’re in pain now. And I’m alive.”
“I’m only in pain because I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’ve already lost me.”
Crying, you moved towards him, noticing that he still refused to look at you. “No! No, I haven’t, Poe! What you went through was terrible, but you need to realize that you’re sick and you need help.” You gently grabbed his hands, lacing your fingers through his. “Please, Poe, please let me help you. Don’t you remember that one time you told me we could do anything we put our minds too?”
Poe’s jaw twitched. In the dim light of the kitchen you could see tears reflecting in his chocolate brown eyes. Suddenly, he wrapped his fingers around yours, and squeezed your hands hard. “What if I never get better?”
You set your jaw, now both of you were crying. “Poe, you will and you don’t have to do it alone. We can fight this together. Tomorrow, we’ll go see the pain specialist, we’ll make an appointment with the therapist... and I’ll go with, to as many appointments as you want me to go to, even if I just sit in the waiting room waiting for you.  I got quite good at waiting for you while you were deployed.”
This was usually the part of the fight that Poe scoffed at you, declared that he didn’t need a therapist, and storm back to bed. And you were expecting it to go this way... but then he looked at you, looked at you like you were his lifeline.. and something snapped inside of him. “After everything I’ve done and said, you’d still wait for me?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t you wait for me?”
“Forever if I had too.”
Letting go his hands, you hugged him, tightly.  Poe wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. You could hear him softly crying and it broke your heart, but this was the first step towards healing, wasn’t it? “What do you need from me?” you whispered, leaning into his embrace.
Poe closed his eyes, letting the tears run freely down his cheeks. “Maybe that natural shit you use after yoga...and some Motrin. Let’s...let’s start with that.”
You smiled against his shoulder and nodded. “Okay. Baby steps. My dad always said slow and steady wins the race.”
“I want... oh God, love, I want to get better...”Poe sobbed.
“Poe, baby, you will,” you assured him, rubbing the back of his neck. “I promise, I’ll be there every step of the way--I’m not giving up on you.”
He finally believed you, after months of fighting himself, fighting his doctors--fighting with you--he finally believed that no one was giving up on him. That had to include himself too. Poe had to believe himself if he was going to get better.  He couldn’t give up.  
You helped him back up the stairs to your bedroom, helped him sit on the bed while you went and retrieved the pain cream from your yoga bag, then went into the master bathroom to find the Motrin.
Joining him in the bedroom, you saw that BeeBee had climbed up onto the bed and had his head in Poe’s lap, his high brown eyes looking up at his human with adoration. Poe was languidly scratching the dog behind his ears. You sat down on the bed behind him and lifted up his tee shirt, squirting some of the cream in your hand, you began to massage it into his tense muscles--over the scar in his back where the Army surgeon had removed the bullet that almost ended his life.
Poe hummed in appreciation. “That stuff smells fucking awful,” he snapped, even as it began to tingle and dull the pain.
Chuckling you held his shirt up while it dried. “Yeah... but it’s working, right?”
“Yeah. Even if I smell like a disinfectant.”
“Still want the Motrin?”
“Sure.”
Releasing his shirt, you handed him a glass of water and two pills. “We’ll start with two, okay? If it doesn’t help in an hour, I’ll give you another one.”
He nodded taking the pills.  Poe finished the water and handed you the glass, watching as you set it down on the nightstand. “I want to get better,” he told you, again, “I don’t... I can’t live like this anymore.  You were right all along, I should have... I should have listened to you... but I didn’t want... you asked me if I wanted to die. No. I want to live, sweetheart. But the nightmares...the pills... the pain... that isn’t... that isn’t living.”
You pushed his hair back from his forehead and then kissed him, tenderly. After a year of watching him fall apart, especially these last six months that he had been home, this was the first sign that he wanted to fight back, that he didn’t want to let his PTSD or his addiction to the pain killers ruin his life. “I love you, Poe. Battle scars and all.”
Poe sighed, sadly. He grabbed you into his arms and laid down, BeeBee ruffed and climbed over you, curling up against Poe’s back before falling back to sleep.  For the first time in a long time, Poe felt a real smile tug at the corners of his mouth.  It was one that was filled with the sadness he still felt, but he had  BeeBee, he had you--he knew that it was a long road he had to travel to get back to something that resembled the man he used to be--however, as he watched you fall asleep against his chest, he knew he wouldn’t be walking that path alone.
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littlequeenies · 4 years
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BEBE BUELL: MUSING ON MUSES AND OTHER FANS
📷BEBE BUELLJUNE 17, 2020
Before embarking on a musical career of her own, Bebe Buell was a much in-demand model but was most often seen as the second fiddle to the famous rock musicians she was dating. She, however, saw herself as the Muse to these musicians, inspiring and sharing ideas with them. Inevitably, the term “groupie” would arise. As she says, “I’m not opposed to ‘groupies,’ per se. I just don’t like being called a name or being tagged like a sheep to slaughter’. Bebe elaborates on this idea for PKM.
I remember the first time I saw a photograph of Oscar Wilde. I was five and it was Easter. We were at the Virginia Beach home of my mother’s friends, Poppy and Tilly, who were hosting a Sunday get together. We were dressed in our pastels and frills and the candy and food was flowing. It was an adult affair and, being the only child there, I wandered off to explore while the grown-ups enjoyed their martinis and snacks. I found myself in a living room study area and on the table was a big book filled with photos of poets, painters, sculptors and scholars. I was immediately drawn to an image of Oscar draped on a chair like a velvet throw! It stuck with me and when I got older I looked him up in the school library. At the age of twelve I read The Picture Of Dorian Gray, but my main interest was in Oscar Wilde, the man and his story. I felt an instant connection, just as I have with all the great inspirations in my life. In 1978, when I was living between NYC, Maine and LA, before finishing the year in London, I never missed one episode of Masterpiece Theatre and their 13 episodes of Lillie about the life of Lillie Langtry, played brilliantly by Francesca Annis. To my delight, it explored in great depth the relationship/friendship between Oscar and Lillie, and I became obsessed with knowing everything and anything I could about their dynamic. I was intrigued, too, by the descriptions of Mrs. Langtry in the press at that time in England and the U.S. She was often called a “Professional Beauty” or “The Jersey Lily” because she was born on Jersey, the largest of the Channel Islands off the coast of Normandy. She was also one of the most featured women in advertising; her face was everywhere. She was the image for Pears Soap and the most respected painters of the day stood in line just to have a sitting with her. In 1877, she met Edward, Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII, and became his first publicly acknowledged mistress.
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One of my favorite quotes was attributed to her from her conversations with Wilde: “They saw me, those reckless seekers of beauty, and in a night I was famous.” This reminded me of the back room at Max’s Kansas City, the temple of cool when I arrived in New York during the era of everything! It was this platonic duo that introduced me to the role of the “Muse”—that is the Artist and the Muse. Throughout history and especially in the arts, there seems to always be a driving force that brings the flora. In the series Lillie, they emphasized how Oscar would repeat Lillie’s quips and observations in his writing. Their banter with one another fascinated me and I often envisioned myself as a “Patron of The Arts”, in a sense, as I’ve always promoted and sang the praises of those whose work I liked. I felt an affinity with that spirit—the gift of inspiring and sharing special ideas with an artist I admired. It wasn’t just music. I adored musing with photographers, writers, film directors and designers, too. Creative energies have always fed my soul. The first time I referenced the term “muse” was in a 1981 interview I did with the Emmy-winning writer Stephen Demorest for the edgy publication Oui. Its sister magazine in France was called Lui. Playboy had taken over ownership of Oui so it was a glossy, classy, European-style men’s delight, targeting a younger demographic. When Stephen approached me about the piece, he showed me a couple other interviews with “It Girls” that had been published.
One was with Patti D’Arbanville, the inspiration for some of Cat Stevens’ biggest hits. He even used her last name in one of the songs, “Lady D’Arbanville”. I knew Patti from the early 70s and, in fact, it was she who introduced me to Jimmy Page in 1973 on a night out dancing with her in NYC. It was a quick meeting, as I was eager to get home to my boyfriend at the time, Todd Rundgren. A year later, I would run into Mr. Page again and the rest is the stuff of rock tales.
I adored Patti so knowing that both she and Jerry Hall had done this particular interview sealed the deal. Like Patti Boyd, Jane Asher, Linda Eastman, Maureen Van Zandt, Sara Dylan, to name a few, the musical muse is the most often of the muses referenced. I recall how so many people wanted to know my viewpoints and opinions about the word “muse” and why I preferred it to the term “groupie”.
Even in Cameron Crowe’s Almost Famous, his beloved character Penny Lane’s first words on screen are, “We are not groupies. We inspire the music- we are bandaids!”. The film was Cameron’s love letter to women and how even at that time a stigma was attached to calling a woman a groupie; it was not necessarily a compliment. It was almost like a dismissive jab, on par with “she’s such a slut” or “whore”. Another scene in Almost Famous has all of the members of the fictitious band Stillwater squeezed onto a small plane that, they thought, was about to crash. Secrets were spilled and fingers were pointed. In one of the most moving moments, the William character defends Penny when she is described as “that groupie” by one of the band members. William nails it when he points out who and “what” she really is- a bright light and cherished fan. Someone who loved them all and for all the right reasons.
I feel that women have been unfairly branded and labeled without cause. I’ve often said that I’m not opposed to “groupies,” per se. I just don’t like being called a name or being tagged like a sheep to slaughter. Summing me up for the life I’ve lived, seen through someone else’s eyes or, worse, exaggerating the truth. I didn’t want those I’ve truly loved or the relationships I’ve had to be considered less sincere because of the visibility of my partner.
Certainly loving music or dating musicians is not derogatory. Isn’t it logical, then, that birds of a feather flock together? Like-minded tribes mate or unite because of chemistry? Rock boys and models have been drawn to each other since forever! In the Netflix series Hollywood, you find that sex and sexual favors were the core of the industry. Several of the movie stars everyone loved on screen had started out as rent boys or nude models to make ends meet. Who decides why someone can give a blow job to the “right” person and get a starring role in a movie and another blow job by an aspiring talent gets tossed into the trash can of regret.
Why, after having four children with Mick Jagger, a successful modeling career and now being Mrs. Rupert Murdoch, would anyone refer to Jerry Hall as a groupie? Or gold digger, another favorite term used to describe women who marry well. Or Marianne Faithfull, Anita Pallenberg or Winona Ryder, for heaven’s sake? These are the questions I’ve always had and one of the main reason why I have rejected the term groupie in the press. It’s not a personal attack on those who identify with the moniker. It’s my own rebellion against being labeled and frowned on for the relationships I’ve had.
I’ve taken this stand for a long time, even though it’s also caused some judgement and negativity towards me from other women. It’s almost as if they think I see myself as better than them. Or that I’m not being honest when I don’t just call myself a full-on groupie, and own it. My closest friends tell me it’s just jealousy but that doesn’t make it any less hurtful to have tales and lies circulated about you by people you barely know or those who don’t know me at all. Or to have relationships that lasted for years being reduced to a laundry list of “conquests.”
This is nothing new, of course. Catherine The Great‘s enemies within the Emperor’s Court turned on her and started rumors that she was a sex fiend who had intercourse with horses. That stuck with her throughout her life and even in the museums of Russia, the tale has echoed although it’s completely untrue. Cleopatra and Anne Boleyn were also targeted. Ruining reputations was the way people got their revenge in days of yore. Or in some cases, the reason why some lost their heads to the guillotine. Why is it that women who have power or beauty have been subjected to crazy accusations of sexual voracity or deviance? Eve takes the blame for the banishment from Eden and although she was supposedly created from Adam’s rib, she is seen as a temptress and Adam as her victim.
I believe every woman should identify by how she feels comfortable and for the work she does. I personally prefer to be known for what I do, my accomplishments, my career. However, dating a rock star or an actor should not merit a nasty quip or name calling fest. It becomes unbalanced when just because someone gets famous as, say, a model or an actress and then dates a rock star, that she should get called anything other than what she does to earn a living. I’m not sure “groupie” falls under the umbrella of job occupation. I’d file it under pastime, hobby, passion, or fetish.
The origins of the groupie started with nothing more than a desire to be close to the band—the guys who made the music. Or in some cases, the women. The term came into use in the mid-1960s as slang for women who liked to hang out with musicians. It’s fair to say that not all “groupies” are the same. There are many tiers and pecking orders when narrowing it down. Certainly not every girl who dreams of being with a rock star will waltz backstage and demand sex or give oral gratification. That’s the image I despise and wish would not tarnish the entire viewpoint to the outside world. Some of the girls on the scene want to take the word “groupie” back, to personify what it meant in the ‘60s and early ‘70s. It became something entirely different when the ‘80s rolled around. Bands born out of the LA scene liked a different kind of arm candy than the Rolling Stones or the Beatles. They preferred exotic dancers and porn stars, the girls du jour of the time. Just as music changes with each era, so do the kinds of women who pursue the bands. But, more importantly, what kind of women the bands seek out. One man’s status is another man’s yen.
And then there are those who look at being a groupie as a form of prostitution. I’ve never understood that one because most girls who live that lifestyle don’t charge money to be with their favorite rock god or even their crew. It’s a thrill to be with the band, but it seems the glamor that was once attached to that goal has changed. For me, it was a thrill to fight to say “I’m IN the band”… or even “I AM the band!”
When I was living with Todd, he produced one of the first all-female bands, Fanny. They were so great! June Millington could shred! I felt bewildered when I would hear snide remarks wondering if Todd was sleeping with one of them. I thought to myself that would have never been said or thought if they weren’t women.
The bottom line is preference. We all have a choice. And we all can be whatever we want. We can wear many hats. I see myself as a mother, wife, musician, singer, songwriter, writer, mentor, animal lover… many different things. What I do in my spare time is how I make my soul happy. Who I date is based on connections, fate and karma. We end up with who we’re meant to be with and the experiences we have are all meant to be. I’ve been with my husband Jim for twenty years now. Our 18th wedding anniversary is coming in August 2020. So, I’m writing this piece from the perspective of a wife, mother, working musician, writer and mentor. Not just a girl who had lots of suitors in her youth. Every single little thing is part of the journey.
The first time I saw a photo in Rolling Stone of what they called a “groupie”, I was 15 years old and in the 10th grade. It was 1969, and neither the image nor the word was at all something ugly to me. It just seemed exciting and cool. The girls were so outrageously dressed, and it reflected an almost innocent charm. I didn’t aspire to be a groupie but they seemed like they were the ones who made the guys in the band cool. They helped dress them, created make-up looks and spread the word all over town about how good they were. It didn’t seem to be so much about sex and backstage antics. Maybe I was too young to fully understand everything, especially from the pages of a magazine.
On my first trip to LA with Todd in 1973, when I finally did meet some real girls who liked to be called groupies, it still didn’t seem derogatory. I started to see how it was all just tossed together in some people’s minds. It’s a complex dance between an artist and his muse. None of it is something so vulgar or tainted as being only about sexual conquest. Maybe to some, it’s about that. But for me it was a series of fated encounters that have lasted throughout my life.
Some people see a groupie as a girl who will do anything, including have sex with a roadie, to get to the band. There is that element to the rock n’ roll lifestyle. But it’s not the entire package. Others see groupies as a vibe, the girls who are there when the band makes it, the girls that helped them make it, the on-the-road bestie, or the girls who get the bands drugs and food. Or even give them the clothes off their backs if the band is short a cool stage look. I often joke that that’s how wearing your lingerie out became a signature rock girl look- the band had taken her clothes to wear onstage!
I recall reading where Pamela Des Barres said she was still a virgin when she first discovered her teenage heart being drawn to rock boys. It felt sexual to her and it was also just youthful and sweet. Not a salacious sexual quest. More a desire to be near the music and the men who made it. That’s perhaps what one would define as a “classic groupie”. Or, in some circles, “fan” is the preferred analogy. I can relate to that myself as I knew when I was ten years old, I would hang out with Mick Jagger one day. I knew those were my people… my kind.
Pamela has made a career out of her life as a proud groupie. But certainly she has a right to claim the term because she helped invent it! She now calls it her “groupie heart” and that is something anyone who’s ever had a crush on someone or loved someone’s music so much that it altered your DNA can relate to. Hasn’t everyone felt that way? Every guy or gal who picks up a guitar or slings a mic stand had to have been dazzled by their inspiration or felt a need to pursue that for their own futures. So, my point is this- none of it is negative nor should one word hold so much power that when it’s flung at a woman, she’ll feel shamed or scorned.
When I started to get a bit of fame, the media seemed to want to call me anything but “groupie”. It was “Friend Of The Stars”, “Queen Of The Rock Chicks”, “Leggy Model”, “The Mother Of All Rock Chicks”, “It Girl”… so when the internet entered our lives, I began to see just how judgmental and downright mean people were about the women who hung out with the bands. It started to become something so dirty and taboo that I wanted no part of that term. It’s a thin line, a hard one to walk. Personally, I feel loving music and being attracted to musicians is as natural as doctors and nurses getting along. Humans are drawn to their soul tribe. Music, musicians and all art forms attract me. I’m the moth to that flame.
As an entertainer myself, it always hurt me when what I actually do for my job was ignored or not taken seriously because of the famous names I’ve been attached to. It’s so one-sided to only put that burden on women. It has been the norm for men to be patted on the back and admired for their taste in women and especially if they were able to appeal to many and have tons of sexual experiences. Even in the animal kingdom, the male peacock has the massive plume bloom to attract as many lovers as he can. A male lion can rule the pride with his sexual domination. A male celebrity only becomes more famous if he’s got a beautiful model or actress on his arm. Whereas a woman who’s dance card is busy or even full is often ridiculed or bashed. Branded with the scarlet letter of infamy.
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It started to get under my skin when I saw myself defined only by who I’d dated or had close friendships with. It’s the luck of the draw. Some women who are in the public eye can date and marry a celeb several times and be embraced for it. They use it to further their already visible life. They are proud and exploit all their lovers as the playthings that they’ve become. Some have become famous by leaking a porno or being on a reality show. What was once a limited field has become wide open with lots of branches of thought and assumption. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for me to fight for my image… my persona… my legacy. But I did fight. I turned down almost every request I was presented to be interviewed for groupie documentaries or sensationalized TV shows. Sometimes turning down large sums of money. But I wanted to work hard and felt if I worked hard enough one day I’d be thought of for what I did on a stage, in front of the lens of a camera, as a mother and at times even a manager, more than who I shared my life with. Dare I use the “R” word? I wanted RESPECT.
There’s lots of contrast in the definition of groupie or muse but what about “partners”… the duos who took the world by storm. Sonny & Cher, Karen & Richard Carpenter, Debbie Harry & Chris Stein, Jack & Meg White, Jane Birkin & Serge Gainsbourg, Stevie Nicks & Lindsey Buckingham, Annie Lennox & Dave Stewart, Kim Gordon & Thurston Moore, etc… Or Chrissie Hynde and Courtney Love, who both married musicians. There’s a kaleidoscope of ways women are seen. It all depends on how you are first perceived. The general public seem to hold on to how they first heard of you even if you go on to do many different things in your life. Marianne Faithfull is a perfect example of someone who has been able to transcend her detractors and carry on like the warrior she is. But it baffles my mind how anyone could call her or Anita Pallenberg anything but tastemakers and trendsetters. They were the women I would stare at for hours as a young girl. They fascinated me almost more than the guys they hung out with. Yet I still hear them sometimes referred to as groupies.
Like any entertainer, I have an overwhelming need to be loved and to give love and positive energy to others. That’s why I crave being onstage. The connection with the audience is almost like having the best sex in the world. Or at minimum, a great, soulful hug that sends sparks through your body. I’ve been doing this since 1980, in public anyway. This is my life… not the talented, special men I dated in my youth. That’s part of my story and I will never regret a single heartbreak nor will I ever regret loving to the point of forgetting myself and my own pursuits. But I want to be remembered for more than my dates or suitors. I gave birth to a child who grew up to become a superstar so the role of nurturer has followed me throughout my life. I’ve accepted the fact that my fate is to be a vessel for talent and to enrich those who possess it. It’s become who I am- all the parts and pieces of my karma rolled into one big bang! My artistic side occupies just as much space as my musing side- equal parts love and creative energy.
Things come full circle especially when I get approached after one of my shows by young girls that call me “High Priestress” or tell me that they are my “groupies”. When I hear the words “Bebe, Im your biggest groupie!”, my heart swells but I also like to immediately remind them that I do what I do onstage because of them. Because of the exchange being a performer gives to my being. It’s like fuel… hors d’oeuvres for the soul.
One morning in 2009, I got a call from an old industry friend who had landed at Interscope Records. I was awoken with, “Bebe, you’ve been touted in a song produced by Pharrell Williams called ‘Bebe Buell’ by a young band from Boston called Chester French.” I remember thinking “wow, that’s a nice compliment” because the gist of the song was that someone like me or Pamela Anderson Lee were the creme de la creme of rock-boy desire. There’s a clothing line called ‘Muse & Lyrics‘ that has a blouse/top called “The Bebe” and the brand ‘I’m With The Band’ has named their leopard scarfs and headbands the “Bebe”. There’s even a cocktail called “The Bebe Buell”.
But I think one of the coolest things was having Cameron Crowe name the lead singer in Stillwater Jeff Bebe. He gave me the original T-shirt that was used in the movie, too, and boy do I treasure it! Cameron sprinkled all kinds of little clues and messages throughout Almost Famous. I was especially touched by the Jeff Bebe nod because he knew how much I wanted to be a singer in a band. I remember him once saying to me that I should just go for it. At that point, people only knew me as a model and Todd Rundgren’s girlfriend. I hadn’t even done Playboy yet, so I was still trying to figure out who I was and how to do it. I finally did but it took me six more years to get in the studio and front a band!
It’s moving to be honored and it’s also nice to be appreciated by the younger generation of pop culture lovers. The first time my name was in a song, I was excited by it. My old friend G.E. Smith had a line on his solo album that was about coming to visit “Bebe and Liz”… he came over to my best friend Liz Derringer’s house to play it for us. We were elated… it was cool. I would never be so bold as to sit here and make a list of my lovers or the songs they wrote for me because it seems so long ago. I’d rather leave that up to the fans of the music to decipher and besides not all songs written for others are acknowledged as such. I’ve had several songs given to me as gifts or written to me in letters.
Sometimes the authors don’t admit it because their feelings change and they don’t want to upset their new love interest. Didn’t Bob Dylan write “Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat”, “Just Like A Woman”, “Fourth Time Around” and “Like A Rolling Stone” about Edie Sedgwick, only to later deny it? I know the feeling because it’s happened to me. So, at this point in my life, I just cherish the letters (yes, I still have them so one day when we’re all gone they will maybe solve the puzzles) and I respect and allow artistic license to have its day. It’s an artist’s prerogative to change their minds so I hold no hurt feelings. Music buffs are pretty smart anyway and they usually know the truth, so it matters little unless it’s blatant. The one topic that irks me is that I claimed This Year’s Model was about me. Well, that’s impossible because I didn’t meet and start to date Elvis Costello until he was well into Armed Forces. I was living with him in London when he recorded it in the fall of 1978. He included a couple of lyrics from songs on Armed Forces in letters to me but I can say with certainty that “Party Girl” wasn’t one of them. I guess it was the timing of the release that made people speculate I was the subject, but I wasn’t and never claimed to be. He didn’t even know me when he wrote those records. Why this is disputed has always been a mystery to me. The songs Mr. Costello sent me in letters were from later albums, starting with Get Happy. I will always wonder too why he would say something so false and perpetuate a rumor twenty years later in the liner notes of a re-issue.  Here’s to hoping it is finally put to rest. And even with the shame and pain I felt at the time, I feel no regret or ill will toward anyone. To me the truth is pretty obvious. Remember the story I told earlier about Catherine The Great? Revenge is often used when hearts are hurt, and it is very common in the entertainment industry.
In summing up my thoughts on the topic, I feel it’s time in our culture to appreciate the roles women have played in art since the beginning of time. Dali had his Gala, Picasso would hide the initials of his mistresses in his paintings and secretly tell them so they would know it was for them, Clapton immortalized his love and lust for Patti Boyd with the ultimate ode in “Layla” and John Lennon may have written the most beautiful love song of all for Yoko in “Woman”. Or was it Paul McCartney with “The Long And Winding Road” about Jane Asher or “Maybe I’m Amazed” about the spectacular Linda Eastman McCartney?
We can’t leave out the spirited and unique George Sand whose given name was Aurore Dupin. She was born in Paris on July 1, 1804 and adopted the name “George” because women couldn’t write professionally with the freedom of men in those days. She became one of the most popular writers in Europe during her lifetime- one of the most notable writers of the European Romantic era. She would wear male attire in public saying it was easier and more affordable than women’s garb. She was a confidant to Franz Liszt and lover and muse to Chopin. She would lie beneath the piano while Chopin composed, saying it sent the music through her entire body instead of just her ears.
Music is primal and it gets into our bloodstream. It’s easy to see why young girls get crushes on their idols and some even grow up to marry their dream man. But the days of defining women by their sexual desires or “conquests” should be on the wane. I never looked at the men I dated or loved as conquests. Humans aren’t territories to be battled over or ceded to. The human connection is divine. Each and every person we cross paths with is part of our magical life story.  So, whatever you identify yourself as is fine. That is your privilege and judgement should not follow even if the choices aren’t the norm. As Oscar Wilde said, “Be yourself. Everyone else is taken.”
*Closing side note* As I was finishing this essay, I was doodling with a People magazine crossword puzzle and one of the clues was “GROUPIE”. Guess what the answer was… “FAN”. The timing was uncanny!
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smartzelda · 4 years
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(Wow, I wish I could kill tumblr for messing up and making me rewrite this whole thing from scratch)
Hi, bros! I've gotten so much of crit done this week, so there's a LOT to talk about
Let's start out where we left off in Toy Box.
So like, the Riku and Buzz parallels are so good, like, the Buzz being afraid of being taken over and hurting his friends. Buzz being more skeptical of people, but trusting of his friends and just trusting Woody a whole lot. I love how he just trusts Sora, Donald, and Goofy by the end and they're friends and stuff
The Sora and Woody parallels are so good too, like, Woody trusting Sora and friends right away because they seem to be good guys, fighting the enemies (it's such a Sora thing to trust people just cause they seem good) and really trusting Buzz. Woody doing the angry sassy while talking to YMX/the organization
And bro, like...the Soriku parallels...the softness...
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This has so many kh2 Soriku vibes
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SAME PICTURE DIFFERENT ANGLE. YOU CAN'T TELL ME OTHERWISE.
*clears throat* Ahem, um...anyways... I was thinking about when YMX tosses Sora into the Verum Rex Gigas minigame. 1st off, I beat it a lot faster than I did my first play through the game on proud mode, so that's helpful. I'm glad that having done this before is helping me learn to be at least a little less stupid and do some things easier because of experience. 2nd, YMX's role in kh3 is very interesting. The hole time I get that he knows more than he's letting on. I feel like he, like Sora, can remember everything between the demon tornado, Riku's sacrifice, mass death, and Sora saving everyone's hearts before the timeline being rewritten and turned back to before everyone dies, and assuming the SRT holds up, he even seems to know the events of the first go around of timeline set before the kh3 we play. It's in the SRT too, but like, him saying "Not this time" and being able to dodge Sora's attacks like he already knows. Then there's YMX's line before the boss battle where he's like, "Find the hearts connected to yours." We could take it as him guiding Sora, getting him to find the seven guardians of light. I'm feeling like it might be foreshadowing or like YMX leading Sora to his end because it could be foreshadowing of remind (I mean, I won't know till I can play) or it's referring to the future of Sora saving all the hearts from the lich. Back to him knowing what's going on in the timelines somehow with that whole leading aspect, then there's during the lich segment where YMX is there somehow and tells Sora about how he'll pay the price, then YMX's "death" where he says that Sora's time in the world is over, indicating he knows what Sora's done and has to pay the price for
So, unlike the gigas thing that went surprisingly well, the possessed marionette and the flying saucer did not, and the flying saucer was the worst. I learned that, unlike in my proud run through, I couldn't just try to beat a gigas as just Sora that easily, considering a gigas could oneshot me (I kinda suck, so I honestly couldn't beat em at all without commanding a gigas myself on crit). So, it was very time consuming, considering I couldn't use a gigas to finish it off and shoot it from afar, and I had to evade all like four gigas and the scattered heartless (it was especially bad if I was about to die and needed to heal) while trying to attack it (needless to say, Donald and Goofy did most of the work in the final stretch while I was trying not to die and also attack the enemy that would warp away if you got too close). I did it though
Okay, final boss battle! Ngl, just...I enjoy the angry sassy of Woody when YMX is like, "See, look buzz fell to darkness blah blah" and Woody is like, "I don't care. Put buzz back the way he was." (Y'know, totally not a Sora attitude and totally not a parallel to CoM when Sora's telling Vexen "I don't care! Just put Riku back!") And YMX like talking about hearts and Woody like, "I don't think you've ever been loved before, because you know nothing about hearts and love." The final boss battle was easy compared to the other boss battles in Toy Box.
Also, I just...enjoy Buzz finally being friends with Sora, Donald, and Goofy and caring about and trusting them now
Now ownards to Corona!
So, starting in the forest just before getting to the tower, I opened a treasure chest with an item that gives sneeze protection (I got a shield for Goofy that does the same thing after I finished this world) which...I... Bro, I'm stupid I like didn't get this item my first run through nor did I know it existed, but playing through this world definitely was easier without sneezing Sora, especially the final boss (but we'll get to that later)
Gotta love that Flynn Rider charm.
"So, I've made the decision to trust you."
"A horrible decision, really."
Hi, I'm Flynn I hope you expect me to run away from battles and have Sora, Donald, and Goofy, who are totally my bodyguards, do all the work and make me look good Rider
Rapunzel after getting out of the tower and her enthusiasm is so Sora like, but ngl, I'd say she's a Riku parallel in this segment. Later in this world, they remark that the tower is a prison for Rapunzel. In this moment she has a lot of conflicting feelings.
"I'M SO FREE!"
"I'm such a terrible person..."
"This is so fun!"
"Oh, what would Mother think...? I should go back..."
"I'M NEVER GOING BACK!"
She's being pulled two ways. Part of her is excited to see the whole outside world and ready to live her dream, defying Mother Gothel, while the other part of her urges her to go back to her prison with Gothel where she'll be safe. This is much like in DDD with the Quasimodo and Riku parallel where Riku tells Quasi that it's not because of Frollo's rules or because Frollo said the outside world would harm him, it's because something in his heart holding him back. Most likely, it was from fear. In Riku's case, he said it from experience because he too is struggling with something where it's his heart holding him back, nothing else (probably his feelings for Sora are the thing he won't set free)
I like how kh3 is like, self aware or like, aware of the kh lore like when Donald and Goofy mention Data Sora, or in this case where Sora, Donald, and Goofy don't remember Marluxia because castle oblivion and he's like, "Such a pain. Whatever. It's not like you need to know." Kh3 shows that Nomura remembers the things he set up before.
Also, Goofy: "I think the 'has-been' prefers Marluxia" 😂😂😂
The heartless chariot was just as terrible and time consuming as always because of how much I died.
I did surprisingly well at the dancing section compared to past attempts, so that was cool. Rapunzel and Sora are just so adorable though and Rapunzel with the flowers in her hair is just😔👌
Okay, I like, I love the lantern scene because it's just so beautiful. Like, I just love those shots of all the lanterns and of Flynn and Rapunzel and of Sora, Donald, and Goofy watching them. Also...Flynn lowkey being given the choice between Rapunzel and the crown and basically choosing her
"I should've given it to you before, but I was just scared."
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"I'm starting to." And Flynn pushes the satchel away, focusing on Rapunzel, choosing her.
Also, thinking that this part is a parallel to Riku in the RoD because Riku got the strength to protect the one he cherishes most (Sora) and now he's not afraid anymore, even in the RoD. He feels stronger and more confident. For Rapunzel, after spending time with Flynn and traveling, she's not afraid of the world anymore and she becomes more confident. She trusts Flynn and gives him the satchel (which in the movie I believe she originally withheld and hid out of fear of him going back on their promise)
So, then, Flynn and Rapunzel release their lanterns into the sky, and they twirl around each other as they fly up
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Seem familiar? It's almost like...
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HEARTS IN TUNE BAY BEE
SORIKU PARALLELS
Also, rip Sora, Donald, and Goofy. They just wanted to watch the scenery, but got interrupted by nobodies
Bro, it's really sad, like, I feel so sad for Rapunzel because she really trusted Flynn and Mother Gothel framed Flynn, breaking Rapunzel's heart because she thought it was all genuine, that Flynn really wasn't going to hurt her and meant the things he said. Then, Gothel takes her to the tower
Sora still being able to be awoken from a lick to the face from an animal like in kh1😂
In my first run through of the game, I got to this part with all the heartless and nobodies on the way to the tower and the section between everyone starting off towards the castle and reaching the castle I tried to go through as fast as possible and skipped fighting the heartless and nobodies I could. This time, I managed to clear the whole area after making it my goal for leveling up purposes, so that was cool👍
And now we reach the tower cutscenes and a very niiiiiiice Soriku parallel, which I'll have to put in the next post due to the photo limit
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yuzulovestea-blog · 5 years
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Practical Blog Post Ideas For Wedding Professionals
I realize what it resembles when you first begin blogging. You do it since you know it's useful for your business yet you battle with what to expound on and everything feels truly overpowering. I realize this is an issue, you've disclosed to me this is an issue, so today I'm giving you 37 useful blog entry thoughts that you can use on your blog. Take them, change them, make them yours!
Try not to need to peruse them OK now? Download them as a PDF by tapping the catch underneath!
1. Feature wedding bloggers
Feature the best wedding bloggers for your optimal customer and title it something like The Wedding photography  For Quirky Couples (or whatever best portrays your optimal customer). At that point messages those bloggers to tell them you highlighted them however don't request that they share the post. Rather, express gratitude toward them for being so marvelous and they will probably need to share it all alone in light of the fact that it makes them look great!
2. Host a test
This could be as basic as giving them 1 thing to complete in their wedding arranging every week.
3. Compose a post posting your most loved assets that will support your optimal customer
For organizers, this may be hierarchical devices/assets. For picture takers, it could be assets that assistance them look and feel progressively sure about their photographs. Place yourself in their shoes and consider what might support them and offer it to them!
4. Compose an "Extreme Guide To… ." post
These posts are commonly any longer than your average blog entry yet they are executioner for acquiring traffic and conveying a huge amount of esteem. Besides you can ceaselessly share them via web-based networking media. These children live until the end of time!
This could be an extreme manual for picking your wedding blossoms, looking stunning in your wedding photographs, what to put on your wedding solicitations alongside how to pick what to incorporate dependent on various circumstances (like guardians and step-guardians, do you list every one of the 4? do you have to list guardians by any stretch of the imagination? how would you settle on the dimension of convention?).
A dress architect or boutique proprietor could compose an extreme manual for picking the correct dress for you that goes into dress shapes, who they're best for, deciding your body type, how to draw consideration far from zones you don't love, and so on. This is inconceivably profitable and will get shared a LOT for a considerable length of time to come.
5. Compose a publicly supported Ultimate Guide post
The principal variant of the Ultimate Guide post is all your master learning yet you can do this by publicly supporting and connecting to the best assets (counting yours obviously). Here is the thing that this resembles: 
You get the acknowledgment for being overly valuable and the traffic and you don't need to compose every last bit of it all alone. Obviously a similar thing applies to this post as does #1, email the general population you connected to and reveal to them you included them!
6. Answer an inquiry that nobody else is replying
There are a ton of inquiries couples have and a large number of them are things individuals would prefer not to deliver or don't think to address. For settings, this may have to do with evaluating for a wedding versus only a gathering. For a picture taker, it could be capable why you don't offer only the computerized documents to your customers.
7. Make and offer an agenda, cheat sheet, reference direct
You can compose a post taking individuals however all that they ought to think about while enlisting a wedding cake creator yet you can truly put the good to beat all (see what I did there?) by offering it to them as a free download. Stunningly better you can request their email address in return for it and construct your email list!
8. Feature another wedding ace or brand you adore
When you feature another wedding star of brand you adore you construct trust since it's not about you. You're situating yourself as an asset to individuals perusing your blog and that goes a LONG way. Obviously, in the event that you do feature somebody, let them know!
9. Answer an inquiry you got in a conference, email or internet based life
On the off chance that you truly tune in for the inquiries that individuals solicit you, you'll have TONS of blog entry subjects to look over. Each inquiry you get can turn into a blog entry. It doesn't need to be troublesome!
10. Flame back at something disputable
There is continually something disputable occurring. Peta Pixel worked superbly of hopping on this article about not bolstering picture takers and terminating back in their own particular manner.
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11. Make expectations
In light of what you see, what might be well known not long from now or one year from now? Expound on it!
12. Compose a post about an inquiry you wish more individuals would inquire
Is there an inquiry that you wish individuals would ask you yet they seldom do? Perhaps it's something that has a major effect that potential customers don't get it. Answer this inquiries like you would answer your as often as possible made inquiries in a post.
13. Offer something in the business that energizes you
Is there another pattern you're seeing that you're truly amped up for? Possibly you cherish that more couples are going the more customized course instead of convention. Demonstrate your potential customers what's going on (recollect that they're new to the wedding scene) and for what reason you're amped up for it.
14. Offer a pattern you'd like to see make a rebound
What is something that used to be a piece of weddings that truly isn't any longer? Odds are your potential customers have never observed it except if it's been in the wedding media over the most recent year and a half. Offer something old you'd love to see a greater amount of in present day weddings. Or then again you could compose a post called Something Old, Something New and consolidate this post with the new pattern thought above.
15. Highlight visitor posts
Go up against visitor posts from wedding experts you have associations with. Give them a chance to give counsel on their part of the business or complete a meeting with them. They'll adore you for imparting their business to your perusers!
16. Compose a glossary post
There are a great deal of terms that we toss around in the wedding scene that make no difference to somebody who is simply beginning. You can help them by composing a glossary post that characterizes the normal terms that they'll hear.
17. Compose a motivation post
A motivation post can be cites that you've gathered, tips from your past customers that they wish they would have known when they were beginning, or it tends to be visual motivation for a specific subject.
18. Expound on what not to do
Expound on with things you should not to when arranging your wedding, picking your picture taker, booking their scene and so forth. On the off chance that you have them, share accounts of individuals who did these things and what occurred.
19. Offer a prior and then afterward
This may be visual (on account of a cosmetics craftsman) or it might be a story that you tell about a customer. Perhaps as a wedding organizer you had a couple come to you and they were very worried. Recount that story and what occurred as you worked with them and how it turned out.
20. Recount your customer's story
Recount your customer's story however do it such that makes it something that a potential customer can gain from. For instance, don't simply demonstrate that a couple fused certain things into their wedding, explain to the peruser how and why they chose to do this and what they ought to do on the off chance that they're thinking about accomplishing something comparable.
21. Expose legends
What legends or misguided judgments do individuals have about what you do? Possibly they think wedding organizers are for acclaimed individuals or all picture takers do a similar thing. Perhaps they believe that wedding solicitations must exhaust. Your blog is an extraordinary spot to test and expose these fantasies and confusions.
22. Disclose to them what to ask before procuring somebody who does what you do
Most couples are new to this entire procuring individuals to take a shot at their wedding thing and they could utilize some assistance. Reveal to them what to ask (and what individuals regularly neglect to ask) before contracting you or somebody who does what you do. In the event that you need to make it one stride further make a downloadable agenda for them to take to counsels!
23. Answer regular however neglected inquiries
You're a specialist so it's normal for you to neglect the essential inquiries that individuals have when they're candid wedding arranging. For instance, in case you're a wedding cake producer the vast majority have no clue how to make sense of how much cake they need. You could compose a post telling them precisely the best way to do this.
24. Make a standard element
You can make an ordinary element on your blog like a tip of the week or a month to month round-up of supportive blog entries (counting yours obviously).
25. Compose a slip-ups post
Expound on the 5 most basic mix-ups individuals make when arranging their wedding, booking the picture taker, and so forth and how your peruser can maintain a strategic distance from them.
26. Feature your methodology/style
Feature why you do things the manner in which you do, what it improves the situation your customers and how it thinks about to different methods for doing it.
27. Compose a FAQ post
When you compose those individual posts noting questions this one is very simple, you're simply putting the inquiries and answers across the board place for convenience.
28. Expound on your region of geekery
What is the piece of your business that you REALLY nerd out about? Perhaps it's executioner client experience or investing hours making cakes with madly complicated subtleties. You have a region of geekery, talk about it and use it as a chance to demonstrate individuals how you work.
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