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kaylinasher · 1 year

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TW: DV, violence, abuse, fighting

“Guards!!” Royal Prince Damien bellowed, his face a mask of fury at the scene before him. “Bind him and take him to the dungeon, I’ll deal with him later and his head will be on a pike in the morning as a warning to what happens to traitors to the crown!” Now he was snarling, barely able to contain himself from setting the whole room ablaze from his blind rage. Now he knew why his daughter had not been courting any of the noblemen who had come calling, she had been slumming it with the dragon shifter and being his willing whore. He should have killed Asher when he was just a welp; he’d known that he’d be nothing but trouble.

Asher tried to fight against the guards who had traced in right next to him, but they had quickly slapped a wrought iron manacle around his wrist, which kept him from shifting or using any of his magic. He could not even trace out of the room to take them on one at a time. White Asher was plenty strong in the form he was in, but he could not overpower so many at once. They might succeed in capturing him, but he wasn’t going to make it easy on them and give a few injuries along the way. Already he had landed blows to two of them, bruises darkening and one bleeding from below his eye.

“FATHER!” Kaylin screamed as she too fought with the guards trying to shackle Asher. They were being slightly less violent and brutal with her, she was the Princess after all. She was furious for the intrusion, and more so for her father treating her like a child in this way. She managed to set two guards aflame in a way that would not extinguish with her powers before her hair was yanked with such force backwards that she saw stars when her head hit the floor. It took her at least five seconds to even realize what had happened, and in that time her father was in her face and the look on his face terrified her more than any other sight she had beheld in her life.

“You traitorous little bitch. Just like your mother, you are. Unlike her, you’re still useful to me, so I won’t kill you. But you will marry and you will come to heel.” The back of his hand then impacted the side of Kaylin’s face, making her head spin and her mouth filled with the taste of her own blood. She could hear Asher still fighting and yelling in the background, but she was having trouble getting her bearings to even try to help him. Her hands clawed at the stone floor, trying to get purchase to fight back or at least get away from her father. It was to no avail, his blow and her head impacting the stone had done something she was having trouble recovering from.

The sounds of the scuffling and Asher’s voice started to fade, meaning the guards had succeeded in their task, bringing tears to her eyes and causing rise to her panic. They would torture him, of that she was certain. She could still feel her father’s power in the room, which terrified her for her own safety. He was enraged beyond reason and had just admitted to killing her mother. What he would do to her was uncertain, and while he had said he would leave her alive, in what condition was an unknown. Now they were alone, he had no witnesses to whatever debauchery and violence he would unleash. She wondered how many others knew of what her father had done to her mother, and done nothing. Had left her with him to be possibly disposed of in the same way when her usefulness faded. Did her grandfather? Did her cousins? More importantly, had Asher?

Kailyn wasn’t given too long to consider this before she felt her father’s massive hand on her face, squeezing her cheeks together painfully ripping open the wounds on the inside of her mouth again that had just started to stop bleeding. She cried out in pain but ended up with his other fist in her stomach, which just made her cry out again and then sob as the wind was knocked out of her and she was sure that at least a couple of ribs broke. Pain radiated throughout her whole body, making her want to curl in a ball, but her father was not ready to grant mercy yet. He might not be going to kill her, but she had a feeling he was going to get pretty close. His anger was legendary, and there was no one there to try and temper his rage.

“Shut the fuck up, you mewling brat. I tried to be nice and give you a choice of who you wanted to marry. Let you pick which of the princes and dukes that came here was good enough for you. Instead you spit in my face,” Now he changed from her face to her throat as he slammed her into the wall, her head bouncing off and making the world spin again as she felt like her brain was trying to escape through her eyes and ears simultaneously. Nothing was in focus, and there was a whooshing noise that she wasn’t sure what it was. As she fought for air to breathe with her father choking and to not vomit from the vertigo that now had a firm hold on her, he continued to berate her in a tone that had fear coursing through her veins and chilling her ice cold. The profanities were long, and he degraded everything about her. Nothing about her was left untouched by his ire and malice. Any preconception she had that he loved her was shattered, and the shards ground to dust beneath his boots.

In the end, she was finally tossed onto the floor, so weak she could do naught but lay there as she heard him head for the door. Every millimeter of her body ached, even her hair seemed to be in pain as she laid there, but she was still defiant and would not go quietly. She was not the contrite and docile child he had desired, she was the warrior that his Generals and Asher had raised while he had ignored her. Raising just her head up, which took all of her strength she could muster, she whispered. “I’m never going to forgive you for this…” Then her head thumped down onto the floor.

Damien turned with a chuckle and walked back over to her, “my darling, I don’t fucking care!” Her head was then impacted by his boot, completely knocking her into unconsciousness. “You want to act like a whore with that dragon, then you’ll be treated like one in the morning by my legion. You will learn to behave.” Reaching down he ripped her nightgown off of her, leaving her naked on the cold stone floor as he strode out.

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unpopularly-opinionated · 1 year

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Holy shit does How To Get Away With Murder end so badly. Total waste of time, right up the end. After season one it was like sitting in a car on neutral with no brakes on a growing decline.

The characters just started getting worse and worse, up until season five where the characters just up and pivoted drastically, so much so that they might as well have been all new characters, only for them to be given almost no substantial end. From season one it’s made obvious that Annaliese is the main character, but what you understandably don’t realize until the end is that, despite at least 50% (being extremely generous since it’s likely more) of the show being centered around them, almost none of the other ‘main’ characters are actually anything more than side characters for Annaliese to bounce off of. None of them are given arcs or reasonable endings.

The series ends with Annaliese being found not-guilty for all of the bullshit throughout the series, Conner going to prison and attempting to divorce Oliver out of love, Michaela walking away scot free after rightfully losing the last few people who were close to her, Laurel fucking off to who knows where to raise her clearly genetically-modified clone of Wes, named Christopher, and Frank and Bonnie dying...

...and then it jumpcuts immediately to years later at Annaliese’s funeral where an old Laurel is there with her now-adult son, Christopher, who again is a fucking clone of Wes, and an old Conner and Oliver, still together, and Michaela somehow becomes I guess a Supreme Court Justice because of course the racist homophobic strong powerful black woman has to win.

And I can’t describe to you how jarring this jumpcut is either, like we go from basically everyone’s worst day imaginable and immediately cut to this somber, yet still nice and comforting day. God forbid if I was supposed to cry when Conner was trying to divorce Oliver so he wouldn’t be alone while he went to prison because seconds later it would’ve just jumped to when everything was all nice and happy between them again which is just so wild.

Honestly, the biggest sin is Michaela. I’ll hand it to Shonda for having the balls to at least not put her at the funeral, further emphasizing the fact that in the end she pushed away the last few people who gave a shit about her after she thoroughly stabbed them in the back. But that’s the only thing I’ll hand to her because quite frankly, none of the side characters got character arcs which is a shame altogether, but Michaela’s arc was so obvious from season one.

They literally called her out as being the “shooting star”, which meant she was the one who would rise hot and fast only to crash and burn in the end. Throughout the series she went on and on about how she wanted to be Annaliese, up until I believe either seasons five or six where she vindictively states that she no longer wants to be Annaliese, she wants to be herself, and in that moment it’s clear that she genuinely believes she’s somehow better than Annaliese. She showed clear signs of having all of Annaliese’s worst traits, amplified, and almost none of her good ones--aside from the law. So I think a more fitting end for her, genuinely (and not just because I hate her character so fucking much), would’ve been for her to crash and burn like she was always meant to. She should’ve died from alcohol poisoning or something early on in her career. Fizzled out. Been disbarred. Something. She should not have been anywhere close to becoming a SCJ or whatever it was she ended up being.

I could go on, but I’ve said enough. The show was just abysmal. It almost makes me want to know how Scandal ended, just to see if it was anywhere near as bad, but whatever. I’m not wasting my time again.

#random rant #TV #How To Get Away With Murder #Shonda Rhimes #review #it still bugs me that Michaela's blatant homophobia and racism were never addressed #and poor Asher had to die after being thoroughly Stockholm'd by her #also I stand by my previous post #where I said this show really felt like black fetishism #idc if Shonda is black herself #if I didn't know she was black #I would swear to you it was written by a whacked up white woman with an unhealthy borderline toxic obsession with black people #I specifically didn't say black supremacy either #because it never felt like that #despite how often they loved to bash on white people #it just felt like someone hyperfixated on blackness and being black to a disturbing degree

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renthony · 2 months

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From the article:

Should we worry, as massive book-banning efforts imply, that young people will be harmed by certain kinds of books? For over a decade and through hundreds of interviews, my colleague, literacy professor Peter Johnston, and I have studied how adolescents experience reading when they have unfettered access to young adult literature. Our findings suggest that many are helped rather than harmed by such reading. For one study, we spent a year in a public middle school in a small, mid-Atlantic town, observing and talking to eighth grade students whose teachers, rather than assigning the “classics” or traditional academic texts, let students choose what to read and gave them time to read daily in class. To support student engagement, they made available hundreds of contemporary books that are relevant to the students’ lives. The books included many of the titles currently being challenged, according to PEN America, which is a nonprofit that advocates against censorship, among other things. The titles include Ellen Hopkins’ “Identical,” Jay Asher’s “Thirteen Reasons Why,” Patricia McCormick’s “Sold,” and others that were banned because of themes of sex and violence. We were interested in what the students perceived to be the consequences of reading young adult literature. They tended to read books they described as “disturbing.” At the end of the school year, we interviewed 71 of the students about changes in their reading and relationships with peers and family. We also asked open-ended questions about how, if at all, they had changed as people since the beginning of the year. Beyond reading substantially more than they had previously, they reported positive changes in their social, emotional and intellectual lives that they attributed to reading, the kinds of books they read and the conversations those books provoked. Here are six ways students told us they had been changed by reading and talking about edgy young adult books.

#news #censorship #literacy #media literacy

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undying-love · 27 days

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Everything that Paul and John's ex-girlfriends/wives have said about them

Cynthia

"John and Paul always had a special link between them, a chemistry that added to the heat."

Linda

"I was just some chick from New York when I walked into all of that. God, if I’d known what I know now…All I could do was sit there watching them [John and Paul] play these games.”

"They loved each other… they were friends, and it was deeper than any of us will ever know".

Yoko

"He [John] did put it that way, he was 'riding on the boat called Paul, and now I'm going to ride on a boat called Yoko." "I knew there was something going on there. From his [John] point of view, not from Paul’s. And he was so angry at Paul, I couldn’t help wondering what it was really about." "I’m sure that if he [Paul] had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul." "I’m sure that in the case of Paul there’s that feeling that I’m the woman who took away his partner – it’s like a divorce." “I think it was like he was married to Paul. And now he was married to me so it was like a situation that he didn’t feel like he wanted to go back."

Jane

“When I came back after five months, Paul had changed so much. He was on LSD which I hadn’t shared. I was jealous of the spiritual experiences he’d had with John”. She told Ray Connnolly that "to Paul, his relationship with John was more important than his relationship with her".

Peggy Lipton

"John didn't like me being there at ALL. He was mean and sarcastic [...] I got the idea that he thought Paul was an idiot to take a girl so seriously he'd actually invite her to dinner, when all he really needed to do was fuck her AFTER dinner."

Francie

"I have no doubt Paul loved John deeply. But as I said on the Westwood One show, he is twice widowed now. His two great loves [John and Linda] are gone." "He wasn't happy. But the big things that were driving him mad were beyond me. He kept on working and writing, but when John came over, all he could talk about was how much he loved Yoko. That disturbed Paul." "That Paul started painting after John's death is no coincidence. That competition, the clash, the ebb and flow of *that* relationship, was so central to Paul's being, the only love that comes close to being a reasonable comparison is his marriage to Linda and the births of his children." "Please remember, Jane Asher was his first great love (after Lennon)." "For a reason to hold a grudge, think about the possibility of this: She [Yoko] took John from him. And she didn't particularly want to share John with his "ex significant other" on certain levels." "Paul hates Yoko for stealing the love of his life away from him. No, not Linda.... John! Paul has never forgiven her for that." "When John and Paul split up (think of them as a couple for a moment) their second mates had to stand by them."

Dot

"Paul hated Stu. It's true that Paul had his eye on Stu's bass, but in fact, he was jealous of Stu, especially of Stu's friendship with John. What's more, Stuart flaunted it. Time and again, he put it under Paul's nose and gave it a scornful swish."

Maggie

“They would bounce off each other. Their perceptions were different. Paul was softer and John sharper but they could change roles. They were so intertwined and so tight on so many different levels."

#mclennon #wives and exgirlfriends #interesting #they were really telling us something

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

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Mine*

Summary: Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession.

But he's found the perfect way to make it right.

Word Count: 3.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“So, what did he say?”

“What do you think he said? Gave me some bullshit excuse about not knowing the rule and tried to save his own ass.”

Harry tsks as he throws an arm over the back of the sofa. “Fucking pathetic. They’re all the same.”

“All of ’em,” Asher agrees with a nod. “But I had a couple of the guys tail him, and he led us straight back to the warehouse.”

“Good. Think it’s time we pay him a little visit,” Harry decides before his eyes trail over to where you still stand in the kitchen.

You usually try to keep your distance when Harry’s in one of his meetings. And perhaps this isn’t exactly an official meeting per se, seeing as it’s taking place in your living room. But nevertheless, you’re hesitant to interfere.

Besides, you’re more than content to just watch when he’s in his element like this. Like to watch the way his expression will grow dark, and his voice will take on a certain edge. The way he’ll speak about death as if recalling the weather. The way he’ll drop threats as if they were weightless.

He can be quite intimidating when he wants to be. Most of the men that work for him won’t even make eye-contact with him. And you’re almost certain a few of them have even pissed themselves on occasion.

Asher is about the only one who doesn’t flinch when Harry enters a room. Perhaps that’s the result of their lifelong friendship, or perhaps it’s because he knows he’s Harry’s right-hand man.

Either way, Asher is the only man on the team that Harry truly trusts. Which is probably why he was invited to your home this evening.

Of course, Harry claimed he merely wanted to relax and catch-up. But you knew better.

The only way to get Harry Styles to actually unwind and relax is by fucking him.

You fidget by the fridge as you’re forced under his cool stare, a tad apprehensive about why you’ve garnered his attention. You hope you haven’t disturbed their conversation, although you do wish he’d wrap it up.

He’s hardly been home the past couple of weeks. You understand why, of course. A threat was made to the company that Harry needed to eliminate. And you’d never stand in the way of his work.

But…you miss him. Miss getting to be near him. And maybe you wouldn’t as much if he actually allowed you to visit him at his office. But he declared it was too unsafe. He doesn’t like when other men look at you. Doesn’t appreciate when the people that he pays get the nerve to gawk at what’s his.

Although, truthfully, you think it’s rather cute how overprotective he gets.

Harry smirks as he motions you forward, seemingly amused. “Come here, sugar. You’re too far.”

Relieved to know he’s not upset, you let out a deep breath and obey his command, feet padding across the hardwood floor to bring you closer to where they reside.

You smile a shy greeting at Asher, who offers an entertained grin of his own before Harry is looping his outstretched arm around your waist and placing you on his lap.

“There,” he declares as his chin slips over your shoulder. “S’much better, isn’t it?”

You nod, face warming and hands gathering in front of you.

You’re not sure why you’ve gone so quiet. So still. Something feels…off. Incomplete, in a sense.

Sure, the warmth of his body is doing wonders for this…lost feeling in your head, but it still doesn’t feel like it's…enough.

However, Harry can read you like a book. Knows what each nervous habit and tic means. Knows when you’re feeling anxious, nervous, shy.

Submissive.

And he knows exactly how to fix it.

“Was just telling Asher here about sending our good friend Sean a little message,” Harry murmurs, subtly pulling you back into his chest. “M’getting so fucking tired of playing all these games. Tired of being kept…from what’s most important.”

His fingers begin to tap against your thigh, maybe in an attempt to call your attention to him, but either way…it makes your thighs squeeze a bit closer together.

You feel him smile into your neck. “Are you tired, too, mama?” he hums, in that low tone of voice he knows makes you weak. “Tired of waiting for me? Tired of needing me to make it better?”

Despite yourself, your lashes flutter as you sink even further into his hold. Needing to be encompassed by him. Cocooned by his smell, and his touch, and his intentions.

You’re vaguely aware of the way he’s begun toying with your dress, gently guiding the fabric further up your legs. Giving you enough time to realize. To stop him if that’s what you want.

And maybe you should want to stop him. Should be more concerned about poor Asher, forced to watch from his chair a few feet away. But right now…right now it feels necessary. Like if you stop him…you’ll die.

“So unfair. Being kept from you,” Harry whispers, pressing his lips to the skin just below your ear. “So fucking unfair…knowing that you’re waiting here for me. Like a good girl. Laid out in our bed…needing me to take care of you.”

The cool air feels sinful against your bare thighs, but you welcome it. Welcome the chill that travels down your spine as your cunt grows a bit needier.

Despite yourself, you begin to squirm over his lap, rather desperate for some friction. For him.

And he chuckles darkly at your attempt, the one arm on your hip tightening ever-so-slightly to prevent a second effort. “And I haven’t been, have I? Haven’t been taking care of you the way you need. The way you deserve. Huh, sugar?”

You’re quick to shake your head, longing to appease him. Make him happy. Give him whatever he wants. An answer, your body, your time.

He has it. It’s his.

His hands find their way to your underwear. He’s gentle. Tame. Innocently grazing his finger over the front of your soaked panties as he hums with contentment.

“Oh, my poor little girl,” he coos, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “Bet it hurts, doesn’t it? Bet you feel so fucking empty…don’t you, mama?”

Another quick nod, your eyes growing heavy as you rest back against his shoulder, breaths quick and light.

He adds a bit more pressure. Enough to make you choke on a whimper as you steel yourself against his chest. You grasp onto his wrist, maybe in an attempt to warn him, or maybe in an attempt to just…touch him. Be a part of it. But either way, you don’t let go.

“What?” he asks gently, dancing a few innocent kisses down the curve of your neck. “What, sugar? What do you need?”

And you want to tell him. You do. But…you can’t speak. You couldn’t really speak before, either, but now…now it’s impossible.

Instead, you sigh. You sigh and you squeeze his arm and you hope that he understands.

Which he does.

He always understands you.

“Come on, honey. Tell me,” he pushes, the determined strokes growing a bit more powerful. “Need me to make it better?”

You swallow thickly, a soft whine melting from between your lips as you slowly grind into his hand.

But that small voice inside your head reminding you that you aren’t capable of making a coherent decision pipes up.

Harry doesn’t share. He never has, he never will. You don’t imagine he’d appreciate Asher bearing witness to such a sight, and you have to wonder if Harry even remembers the poor man is even still in the room.

Your head rolls, eyes finding Asher’s figure, still seated in his chair. You’re hoping to call attention to him, so Harry is forced to recall his presence.

And it works, Harry looking over as well while Asher murmurs, “Hi, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks heat up as you nestle further back into Harry’s chest.

However, instead of growing annoyed, Harry simply smiles. “Oh, sweet girl. Are you worried about him?”

You nod once, looking back up at your rather cocky boyfriend.

In return, he tsks soothingly, hand coming up to brush down your cheek. “You don’t have to worry about Asher, mama. He doesn’t mind. Does he?”

“Not at all,” Asher replies calmly, almost as if unaffected by the scandalous act before him. “What the boss man wants…the boss man gets.”

And for some reason, knowing the handsome second in command is watching you makes your mind grow that much fuzzier. As if fully surrendering to that floating feeling trying to trap you.

Once Harry sees that you’ve fully succumbed to your subspace, he hums again, and presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay, sugar. M’gonna take care of you. I’ve got you, all right?”

You don’t have the strength to nod, instead making a rather needy noise as you tug on his arm and turn to bury your face in his neck.

Another chuckle emits from his chest, reverberating across your back as he readjusts in his seat to get started.

First, he takes hold of the pathetic excuse for underwear you slipped on and begins dragging them down your thighs. Then, after eagerly flicking them free from your ankles, he tosses them toward his partner. “Hold these for me, yeah?”

Asher catches them midair, nodding his understanding as you suck in a sharp breath.

And you can’t help but squirm, now growing hot under the realization of your nakedness to the room.

But you appreciate the way both men attempt to make you feel safe. Asher doesn’t stare, instead relaxing in his seat as if this were an everyday occurrence for him. Patiently waiting for Harry’s next instruction. Obediently waiting for him to do what he needs to do.

And Harry does what he always does. He takes care of you. Whispers things in your ear like, “Shh. That’s it, there’s my sweet girl. I’ve got you, honey. Just gonna have a little taste, yeah?”

It’s an out-of-body experience. It’s like you’re here…but you’re not. You know he’s touching you but that’s all you know. It’s all you want.

He takes your legs in each hand before pulling you further open, resting your thighs on the outsides of his.

You’re good and truly spread now, allowing even more of the cool air to travel its way to your aching cunt.

And you shiver when you feel it, lashes falling shut as you take a deep breath in. Harry’s familiar cologne calming your nerves almost instantly.

“There you go,” he praises gently, smoothing his palms along your skin. “That’s it. Just relax for me, okay? Relax…”

So you do. You release each inhibition and just…let him. Let him do whatever, take whatever, have whatever he wants.

When his fingers return to your pussy, it’s like magic. Exactly what had been missing, and you jolt at the faint but welcome contact.

He teases you for a moment, dragging his touch up and down, through and over. Never in. Never hard.

Never enough.

And you whimper every time he leaves your swollen clit, wishing more than anything that he would merely give you what he knows you need.

Maybe he’s trying to show off for Asher. Or maybe he just likes having an audience and wants to prolong the experience.

Either way, it almost kills you.

“Please,” you breathe, once again attempting to thrust up into his hand before pouting when he pulls away.

“Please?” he repeats, grip constricting around you. “Please what, hm? What do you need, sweet girl?”

Another displeased huff as you scratch your nails down his tattooed skin, pressing deep into the ink as if hoping to see it bleed.

The fucker has the nerve to laugh. “S’not an answer, is it, mama?”

You’re growing impatient, half a mind to shove his hand away and do it yourself. Which you don’t think he’d mind.

No, he doesn’t like when you touch yourself. But that’s only if you don’t ask permission. As long as you ask him first and allow him to either see it or hear it…he doesn’t mind.

“Touch me,” you whisper, so faintly, you’re almost sure he didn’t hear.

And you’re proven correct when he dips down and murmurs, “Again.”

“Touch me,” you repeat, a little bit louder, but still airy. “Please, Har…please touch me.”

Another tsk. A deliberating noise as if debating whether or not to agree. “I don’t know. S’kind of in the middle of something. Maybe I should finish my meeting first, hm? Think you can sit here and wait for me?”

And you groan. Because no. No, you can’t possibly wait. Not anymore than you already have, and he’s so cruel. So fucking cruel to do this to you.

“You can,” he decides, ignoring your outraged plea. “You can be good for me. Know you can, sugar. Come on.”

With that, he leans back against the couch, and turns to Asher, diving once again into their previous discussion.

And you assume that part of Harry’s little game will involve him taking his hand away from you. To actually make you wait until he’s decided it’s your turn.

But you’re more than surprised when he continues his light, feathery touches across your cunt. Playing with your folds and your clit almost mindlessly.

“Should I send the guys down tomorrow?” Asher asks, fighting a smirk as Harry mulls this over.

“Not yet,” he decides. “No. No, I think we need to make him sweat it out a bit. He knows we’re coming. Let the fucker spin.”

“I’ll have Blake watch him,” Asher replies. “Make sure he doesn’t skip town.”

“Good.”

“You wanna bring him in for questioning?”

Another pause as Harry trails his finger down, teasing your hole before pulling back. “Not yet. Think we need to remind him what happens…when he lies.”

And just as this decision is made, Harry finally concedes to your needs and pushes himself in. All the way to the knuckle as you gasp and writhe over his lap.

It’s not at all subtle, and you’re almost humiliated by how unpoised you’ve become. But you can’t help it. Can’t help any of it. Not the sounds you’re making, not the noises coming from the gentle thrusts of his finger in and out of your pussy.

It’s echoing across the room like music from the record player.

But neither of the men pay it any mind, instead carrying on in conversation as if you’re not even here. As if you’re not dripping down Harry’s hand, soaking his nice trousers.

“You think he’ll lead us to Matthews?” Asher asks next, resting one arm over the back of his chair.

“Maybe. If we do it right,” Harry says, stroking your inner walls with devious intent. Looking for that one spot that unravels you faster than anything else. “But there are ways of making him. If we need to.”

Asher nods. “I’ll call Blake tomorrow. Arrange the trail.”

But you miss Harry’s reply beneath the sound of your own desperate whine, your chest now heaving under the stress of pleasure building within your stomach.

His thumb flicks across your clit before pressing into it, hard and with fervor. He maneuvers it in frantic circles as your pants grow louder.

You don’t know what to do. How to breathe. No idea how to remain relaxed when he’s doing this to you. When he’s so determined to make you cum in front of his guest.

“—wouldn’t matter then. He knows. They all fucking know,” Harry is saying to Asher before his lips are pressing back into your cheek. “And I’m not going out there if I don’t have to.”

“That’s fine. You know we’ve got it,” Asher responds. “Would you still like Alec on patrol?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits before a second finger begins easing into you. “I don’t like the way he looks at her.”

Asher’s head tilts. “Was he looking at her?”

“He was fucking thinking about it,” Harry scoffs, the hand on your hip tightening. “And if I can’t be here with her, I need to know she’s safe.”

“I can send a few more guys over. Make sure there’s someone at each post.”

“No. I don’t want anyone else watching her but me,” Harry grunts. “Fucking bring her with me before I let someone else in.”

You sigh at this. You know he worries about your safety and care more than anything else. It’s why he’s gone so often. He wants to keep you hidden away in the apartment. Out of sight from his men, and his job, and his…well, enemies.

You understand it, you suppose.

Not that it makes it any easier.

The coil in your belly tightens as he brings his other set of fingers into play. Now, both hands are devoted to you. One making sure to fill you and stretch you just the way you need, while the other plays with your clit like you’re nothing but a toy.

“We can find a safe house in Seattle,” Asher offers. “A place to keep her if you need to bring her along.”

“Maybe,” Harry murmurs, his chest flush with your back as if trying to push himself through you. Consume you. “But if they know she’s there—”

“They won’t,” Asher interrupts, almost resolutely. “They’re not gonna fucking touch her. I promise.”

“No,” Harry agrees, growling the word in your ear as you clench around his fingers and gasp. “No. They’re not. Not gonna use her…to get to me. Not gonna fucking take…the only good thing I have. Not gonna take…what’s mine.”

The energy has turned dark. Angry. Now he’s not trying to tease. Now he’s trying to own you. Remind you who you are. Who you belong to.

The explosion of your orgasm is racing toward you, hurtling so fast, it makes your lungs ache.

He needs you to cum more than you need it. Needs to know that your body only bends for him. That your pleasure is his.

That you are his.

Even if you tell him every day. Even if he knows you’d never look at anybody else the way you look at him.

He needs to feel it. Needs to understand that he’s not gonna lose you the way he loses everything else.

And one of the ways he understands this…is by making you cum so many times that you don’t know anything else but him.

“Almost there, aren’t you?” you hear him whisper, his teeth finding your earlobe as he tugs.

“Yes,” you sigh, so pitifully wrecked that you can hardly speak. “Yes. Wanna cum for you. Please…”

“I know,” he hums. “I know, sweet girl. And you will. Gonna cum all over my fucking hand, yeah? Gonna let me taste how much you missed me?”

You give him nothing more than a zealous nod as you begin to squirm harder over his thighs, seeing that blissful end.

And when it happens, you just about start crying. It’s so…powerful. And you don’t know why. Maybe it’s because you’ve been feeling so needy today. Maybe it’s because of Asher being here. Maybe it’s because you can feel how angry Harry is.

But it doesn’t matter. It’s everything. So deliciously perfect that you almost don’t want him to stop.

He’s gentle as he rides you through. As he mutters his praises and leans you both back into the couch cushions. As he keeps you trapped between his arms and keeps his lips on your skin.

“There you go,” he coos, his praises like a symphony in your ear. Warming your body, your heart, your soul. “There she is. Fucking squeezing me, honey. Feels so good, you know that? Fucking missed it. Missed the way you feel.”

You know he did. He tells you all the time how good your body is to him.

And you believe him.

When he delicately takes his hands away from you, you deflate. Whining some at the loss of contact and fullness, nearly praying for him to touch you again.

But he’s got something else in mind.

He brings the hand that was inside you up to your mouth, soaked fingers trailing across your bottom lip in a silent instruction to open wide.

So, you do. You take his large digits into your mouth, and you suck. You take everything on your tongue as you swirl it around him. As you swallow and let your eyes fall shut in blissful ecstasy.

And as you do, he brings his other hand up to his mouth. Doing exactly the same thing as you both sit there and taste.

And the sound of him cursing with content at the way you coat his tastebuds is fucking magical. Everything he does is magic to you.

You’ve never felt so happy.

No, you’re still not quite in your right mind, but you don’t even care. Don’t care how far away you feel because you know he’s here to bring you back when you’re ready.

“Good fucking girl,” he practically purrs, palm once again stroking down your cheek. “Did so good for me, mama. So fucking good. My perfect angel. Feel better now, honey? S’that what you needed?”

You smile. “It was certainly a start.”

Harry smiles a bit bigger now, laughing beneath his breath as he drops his hand back down to your aching pussy, cupping it firmly. “A start, huh?”

You nod, a catch in your throat as the intrigue starts to build once again.

Harry hums.

“Then I guess we better finish it.”

I know this isn't everybody's thing, but if you guys would be okay with me maybe doing a part two...I kind of love this Harry? 😭

Next Part:

~ Ours* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles mafia #harry styles smut #smut #mafia!harry #cw exhibitionism #blurb #concept

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spookysteddie · 4 months

Text

Call It What You Want

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!reader

18+ Minors DNI

part two

cw: unsupportive parents, hint at mentally abusive mother, negative media attention, talk of sex tape, food mentions (they go on a dinner date), reader is in therapy. (Let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 2.8k

a/n: I've decided to make this a series that is loosely based off of reputation by Taylor swift. It literally all came to me in a dream last night lmao. If anyone has requests for these two and wants me to create lore pleeeeaaaseee request it. This is so fun for me!

...

Do not disturb was the best thing that could’ve ever been added to phones. Specifically because, without it, you would’ve gotten less sleep than you did (thanks to Eddie).

Your phone is filled with messages, emails from the press asking for comments and messages from your parents. You’re barely awake before checking the tabloids and, as expected, you and Eddie are the top headlines. Everyone has something to say about your escapades last night, videos of you at the concert, photos of you getting out of the car with him and videos from the club.

Social media influencer and rockstar Eddie Muson seen out together since miss Asher confessed her love for him

Good girl y/n Asher and Bad Boy Eddie Muson spotted together

Is y/n Asher going down a dark path?

Social Media influencer shedding her good girl image as she parties with Corroded Coffin

You knew there would be some drama associated with you partying with the band. You knew there would be fans who would be disappointed in you. You also knew there was a high possibility someone would have photos of you around little white lines, leading to some assumptions about you.

You didn’t care.

You check your parents texts next and your stomach drops.

Momma: What are you doing out with that man?! Do you know his reputation?

Papa: The last thing you need is your reputation being ruined! You will ruin your future if you continue with him.

The phone is taken out of your hand before you can respond to them, Eddie locking it and placing it behind you before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. He nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving light kisses on your bare skin.

“You shouldn’t read what those pricks have to say.” He continues to leave kisses along your skin, “most of them talk out of their asses and don’t understand.”

He’s right, of course you know that. You’ve had the most misogynistic shit written about you that you knew they would never write about the man behind you. You could smile weird and all of a sudden you’re the biggest cunt ever. You can never win.

You sigh, settling into his hold. It’s not that you care about your reputation, shit like that changes faster than the weather and it’s not worth it to stress about it. But also, this is your job and the last thing you need is to lose sponsorships because you’re fucking Eddie.

“I know. It’s just annoying cause no one is writing mean shit about you. It’s always about me and my life.”

He hums, “nothing like good old fashion misogyny.” He says it with a shit load of sarcasm, knowing misogyny is not a good thing at all. But it makes you giggle all the same.

“Wait!” You sit up, almost smacking him in the face with your head, “the poll! I wanna see it.”

He grins as he hands you your phone. You ignore your parents, deciding you’ll deal with them later, and open up instagram. You win by a landslide, 86% of your followers voted you as prettier.

Eddie laughs behind you. You turn to look at him, a huge grin on your face, “you owe me a date, Munson.”

His eyes fall to your lips, making you lean in a little closer, “hows tomorrow sound?”

“Perfect,” you whisper as you close the gap and kiss him.

…

You can’t avoid your parents by the time you get home. They’ve been calling you for hours (hours you spent tangled up with Eddie in his bed). You know for a fact that it’ll be worse if you continue to ignore them.

They answer within the first ring, “About time you called us back. We’ve been calling you for hours!”

“Yes, momma, I know. I was busy with Case and Anna.”

You hear her exasperated sigh from your mother, “yeah? For what? Cleaning up the mess you made last night?”

You’re trying to keep your composure, not wanting to yell at your mother, no matter how many times she made you feel horrible about any little decision you made. She was still your mother.

“Case and Anna knew about all of that. Ran it by them first like I’m supposed to do.”

Your mothers attitude only grows, “so what they just approved of you running around with someone known to do drugs? Are you doing drugs? So help me God, y/n, if I find out your doing drugs, I will fly out th-”

“Mom, I am not doing drugs. I went to his show, somewhere I’ve been before by the way, and then we went to a club. Which is something I do on the weekends anyway. I don’t see the big deal.”

You hear her huff, “don’t you dare give me attitude, little girl.” You hate when she calls you that. It’s been her little tool your entire life. She's done it to make you feel small, to make you feel insignificant and, try as you might, it gets to you.

“You better not be seen with him again, got it?”

You can feel the anger getting to you, “mom, I am 25 years old. I don’t need you to tell me who I can and cannot date. He was very respectful actually. Didn’t pressure me to do anything. Now, I have some things to film before tonight.” You hang up before she can say anything else, throwing your phone onto your vanity and running your hands down your face.

Hana clears her throat from where she’s leaning against the door frame. You know she heard that entire conversation. You’d told her when you got home everything, including your parents non-stop calling.

She hands you a coffee, made just how you like, “how was that?”

You take a slow sip, savoring the sweetness, “same old mom. Thinks I’m ruining my life and my reputation.”

“Well, do you think you’re ruining your life and reputation?”

This is one thing you love about Hana is she doesn’t baby you. Ever. She always allows you room to feel your feelings before she gives you her opinion. But she also makes sure you are able to give a name to what you’re feeling. And right now, you’re feeling frustrated.

“No. Hana, he was amazing. He was respectful and he always asked what I wanted. And god the sex was fantastic,” you sigh wistfully. “And we’re going out on a date tomorrow. Just him and I. And I was really excited but of course my mother likes to ruin everything.”

Hana sits on the chair next to the vanity, taking your hand, “Listen to me, if you have a good feelin’ about it, I say go for it. I didn’t get any strange feelings or vibes last night, the opposite really. Also, fuck a reputation. Taylor Swift’s was six feet in the ground and look at her now. Do what makes you happy.”

You can feel the tightness in your chest, backs of your eyes burning. All you can do is pull her into a bone crushing hug.

…

You’re pretty much over your mothers comments by the next night. Of course your therapist heard all the details and said, basically, exactly what Hana did. She also told me that I am an adult and I am more than able to make my own choices when it comes to things like drugs and alcohol.

She’s right of course.

And so, because of this realization that isn’t a realization, you keep the date with Eddie. In fact you’re more than excited to go. To see him again. You filmed all your content, posting the other nights ‘spend the day with me’ video you made.

You’ve even gained a shit ton of followers as well, most of them fans of the bands. Now, don’t get it twisted, the uptick in followers also means an uptick in hate comments and unfollows. You don’t care. Those people are entitled to follow whoever they want and the mean people clearly just have a lot going on in life. It comes with the territory.

Eddie, however, has texted you non stop and follows every single social media account you have. Even commenting on the videos and photos you posted. That got the press talking more and birthed a shit ton more butterflies into your belly.

Eddie didn’t give you much information on what this date would be. All he told you was to dress nice and bring a jacket because it’s ‘getting chilly and you can’t catch a cold.’ You tried explaining that’s not how colds work but he wasn’t having it. And so, you pick out one of your favorite dresses, short and black that makes your tits look killer, with stockings that snap onto a garter hidden under your dress. Of course you added a long trench coat just to keep you warm.

Eddie picks you up at 7pm on the dot, not a second later. Again, the bar is in hell because the fact that he is on time makes you want to kick your feet like a little girl. He looks delicious, dressed in his black jeans and a black button up. He grins when you open the door, the chilly night air tickling your legs.

“Give me a spin, Miss Asher,” he smiles.

He takes your hand, spinning you around a few times. Once semi quickly and once very slowly, drinking you in like he’s been in the desert for years. It’s kindling to the fire inside your heart, warming you from the inside out.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He kisses your cheek, never letting go of your hand.

You can feel your entire body heat, a shudder wracking through you. “You’re beautiful too. So, so, pretty.”

You watch a blush tinge his cheeks, “no one has ever called me pretty to my face… and meant it.”

He opens the door to his car as he speaks, making sure you don’t hit your head getting in before running around to the other side and settling in the driver's seat.

“Well, for the record, I do mean it. I mean, who in the hell looks that gorgeous first thing in the morning?” You giggle as you say it, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

He takes your hand, squeezing it twice, “you.”

That makes you smile the entire way to the restaurant.

…

This is the most beautiful date you’ve ever been on.

Eddie had it all planned out perfectly. There was no press standing outside, waiting to take candid shots. He rented out the entire restaurant so that there would be no interruptions, just you and him and the small waitstaff. Flowers litter the floor, a small walkway leading to the table, a bottle of your favorite wine sitting in ice.

You smile, looking up at him with hearts in your eyes. He can feel his heart racing, scared you aren’t going to like it or it’s too much or he’s scared you away. It feels like it’s forever before you answer him. “This is beautiful, Eddie. You didn’t… you didn’t have to do all this. But it’s so appreciated.”

He gives you a swift kiss, his heart feeling like it’s going to burst, “you deserve it. You deserve to feel appreciated and cared for.”

“Well, that is exactly how I feel right now.”

Eddie pulls out your chair, letting you sit before he takes his own. The candles on the table flicker, casting Eddie in the most beautiful glow ever. He’s radiant, beautiful, and you don’t know how anyone could hate him. You felt like you could see his soul when he looks at you, kind, sweet, angelic.

The waiter interrupts your thoughts, introducing himself and pouring the wine. And once all the food is ordered, it’s just you and Eddie. Suddenly, you’re nervous.

“Did you have a good day yesterday?” You cringe slightly at the generic question. You’d talked to him all day yesterday between filming and his studio time. Releasing a new album takes a lot of time, more time than more people would think.

“It was good. I feel like we finally have the sound we’re going for nailed down. S’gonna be similar to what we always do, of course. But I felt like, based off the songs we wrote, we needed a more,” he sipped his wine, thinking about how to describe the sound. “... sensual sound. Sexy if you will.”

You giggle a little, “so you basically wrote about your groupies.” You’re joking, of course, not really caring about the people who came before you. Kind of.

He raises his brows, shaking his head, “no. I actually spent most of yesterday rewriting the songs I wrote. Not all of them, but a good few.”

“Oh! So did you record at all yesterday?” Again, it’s a generic question, but you’re genuinely interested in the process and how his mind works.

He nods, “we did! It’s fucking thrilling to get what’s in my brain into actual art. I can’t believe I get to do this for a job.”

Eddie's eyes practically sparkle as he talks about how exciting his job is. You love to see it, honestly. It’s the same look he gets when he’s on stage, fans screaming and singing the songs he wrote back to him. You can imagine that’ll get someone real high.

He interrupts your thoughts, “can I ask you a question?”

You freeze, stomach falling to your ass. It’s never good when someone starts off like that. You grab your wine trying to hide your shaking hands, “yes of course!”

“To me, it feels like there is something missing in a few of the songs. I’m pretty sure it’s y-your voice,” his stutter makes you feel a little better inside. He’s nervous. “So I was wondering if you’d wanna record some things with me?”

“Eddie, I can’t sing.”

He smirks because you didn’t say no. “You don’t have to. I just need your voice. For the record, when I say record some things with me I don’t mean like sex videos… unless you’re into that.” You both laugh at how ridiculous he is, but a small pulse between your thighs tells you that you might be into making a little movie for just you and him.

“While sex videos could be fun, that shit is so scary. Anyone can hack into whatever we use and boom… careers over. As for my voice, absolutely. I’m honored actually.” And you are. To have your voice be on something forever is so fucking cool. Of course, the internet is forever, but to you, it’s different when it’s music.

“One more question…”

You nod, motioning for him to continue.

“Can I use your moans in a song?”

You nearly choke on your wine, eyes going wide. “My-my moans? Like from when we have sex?”

“Mhm. They are so fucking beautiful, baby. As much as I want to keep every part of you for myself, your moans would fit perfectly in this one song I have.”

You have to be 50 shades of fucked up because you’re actually fucking touched that he thinks that part of you is pretty enough to put in his music. No one has to know if they’re real or not. And you don’t even have to answer the questions if anyone asks if it’s you.

You laugh, shaking your head, “you, Eddie Munson, are crazy. I’m here for it but do you think your fans will like it? I don’t want you to do this just because we fucked the other night. I like you and you don’t have to put my anything in songs to get me to stick around. I don’t just like you because you make music.”

He looks a little stunned, almost like he doesn’t believe you. “I… you don’t have to lie, baby. I mean, fuck, I’m not trying to call you a liar. I just am not used to people liking me as me. Usually they just want me because then it’s like a bragging thing. Not that, that’s what you are here for. Fuck, I am really fucking this up.” He rubs the back of his neck, his other hand clenched.

You grab that hand, forcing yours into it and rubbing your thumb on his wrist, “I understand what you mean, Eddie. I’m not offended. But I mean what I said. I’m not here to further my career. I’m here because I’ve had a sickening crush on you for years. My poor friends have had to listen to me go on and on about it.” You laugh, feeling your face heat as you confess all this to him.

“Really?” He looks like a boy, big, brown puppy eyes staring up at you.

You nod, “really. Hana was ready to throw me a party because I finally got a date with you.”

He laughs, the sound loud and from his belly.

You decide right then that you will do whatever it takes to keep him forever.

#stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x you #corroded coffin #stranger things au

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campoverlook-if · 3 months

Text

Welcome to Camp Overlook, Where We're Stronger Together!

DEMO LINK ll Updated: 4/26/24 ll Wordcount: 70k [W/O Code], 16k [Average]

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Secrets are all around you in the small town of Crescent Cove, and its local summer camp, Camp Overlook. A place where childhood memories mix with the unsettling realities of the unknown.

A place once known for freedom and friendship, is now shrouded in flickering lights crawling around the woods and campers vanishing into thin air. Far hidden in Hudson Forest is the truth of any person's most horrid nightmares.

As a counselor, you are entrusted with guiding a group of youngsters through their formative days of self-discovery as you grapple with the disturbing circumstances around you.

Whether you are a newbie or a returning former camper yourself, the secrets of the woods are still ominous and crippling. Among the cheer of camp, eerie events unfold before you.

Is Mr. Adams, the cheerful camp director, still a jolly man, or is there something now hidden beneath the surface? Is Crescent Cove, the quiet little mountain town, hiding a secret so great that it will do anything to keep it covered? Are the campers, lovable and rebellious, exhibiting behavior that goes against their nature?

Camp is supposed to fun, so why are you running for your life?

-----

Setting: Crescent Cove, USA (Fictional Small Town)

Genre(s): Horror, Mystery, Drama, Romance

Warning(s): This is an 18+ story for depictions of violence, death, sexual themes, and child endangerment.

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Customizable MC - Name, gender, appearance, sexuality, and personality are all choosable aspects to make your counselor.

Get To Know Your Little Campers - The kids look up to you at the end of the day and their relationships with you reflects on the story.

Discover The Mystery of Crescent Cove - Learn the truth on what exactly happened thirty years ago that changed a small town forever.

Find A Summer Lover - Choose from thirteen ROs all looking for someone to love. Maybe you’ll find more than just one...

Meet Your New Best Friends - Create lasting friendships that survive the test of time. Or lifetime rivals that are ready to hurt you at any chance.

The Camp Needs You - Save your friends and protect the camp, or watch it all disappear before your eyes.

Lucas [M] - The King of the Woods

Stuck up, arrogant, and just one half of an irritating duo. Lucas always has to have the last word and the last thing anyone needs is to hear him whine about not getting it. It doesn’t help that the staff like him, the liar. Just be sure to stay out of his way or else.

Asher [NB] - The Sleeping Angel

Completely checked out of life, or at least, that’s what Asher wants everyone to think. There’s just a little something more hiding under that quiet exterior but Asher isn’t the type of person to open up to just anyone. They’ve got demons in their closet, and they’ve come along to camp for the ride.

Jack/Jasmine [M/F] - The Wise Old Tree

If anybody can round up a group of rowdy kids and teens together its this counselor. Calm and collected, they're there when the situation loses control and everyone needs to be working together on the same page. But this personality wasn’t perfected over night and even the calmest of seas can swallow those around them below.

Ethan/Ella [M/F] - The Friend of None

What some may call everyone’s best friend, they're at this camp for one thing and one thing only. To make a summer that’ll last forever. Leader of the pack, they know how to get the populous together and have a good time. But even the party animal has to get tired at some point and it's those moments when the real them emerges.

Ruby [F] - The Little Red Hen

Soft-spoken, polite, and kind to a fault. Ruby is the person you want when you need a comforting hand. A true healer and guiding life even if she is a little shy around others. But all healers have a story, Ruby just doesn’t have the cure to make it all go away.

William/Willow [M/F] - The Undisguised Wolf

They say if you gaze into the abyss, it tends to gaze back and tells you what you’re made of. That’s how it feels when this quiet storm enters a room, the room grows cold and the fun dies out. No one knows what lurks behind those eyes, and no one knows for sure if they’re the eyes of a monster.

Oliver/Olivia [M/F] - The Two-Faced Lover

Excitable, sweet, just the happiest bubble around. Around most people at least. But really, they're just an actor who knows how to play their part. No one knows the real them and maybe that's starting to have a toll on them. But it’s not like they can suddenly do a 180 and show the world who they really are. At least that’s what they like to think.

.....and seven others to discover! (Character Bios Here)

#camp overlook #interactive fiction #demo #dashingdon #horror #interactive game #hosted games #choice of games #wip #choicescript #if wip

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shokujin-art · 2 months

Note

dearie shoku wouldn’t it be crazy if you drew tomboy whitney ahah

I’ll take anything

Really, anything

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!!!!

Wouldn't it be crazy if I did it hahaha—

#dol #degrees of lewdity #dol whitney #whitney the bully #asher the disturbed #myart #loving all type of whitneys #50 shades of whitney #<3

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ashersanity · 4 months

Text

ASHER AND LYRA HOLDING WHITNEY’S BURDENS, HER HEAVY TITS, OH HOW HARD IT MUST BE TO CARRY THEM, PLEASE LET ‘EM CARRY YOUR BOOBS FOR YOU.

I fucking can’t with you no more @shokujin-art

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shoknsfw · 4 months

Text

Continuation from a doodle with these two.

Of course she had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

Full version on POIPIKU ~

#nsft #myart #dol pc #asher the disturbed #lyra the succubus #DOL PCS HAVING FUN TOGETHER #yeeee #playing housewife for Asher #Knowing damn well his kinks—#Was it worth it?#yes #will she do it again?#ofc

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redactahoe · 2 months

Text

Things I believe are true about babe:

Has a very thick Russian accent and sometimes struggles remembering their English

Forgets certain English words and describes them horribly(ie: spicy plant when referring to a cactus)

Sarcastic as all hell

Really does not understand or care for pack/clan etiquette, like a vamp king said babe should respect their elders and babes deadass response was “why should I respect you when the only thing you’ve done is managed to look like a 2000 years old rotting corpse while only being 60.” Completely dead faced and monotone

Has cans and will call David out for his bullshit

Psychology nerd

Just a nerd in general, they love reading

Has a vast and very large book collection

Only person other than David to be able to rangle Asher in

Besties with darlin, they’re both book nerds(babe and Sam are the only one knows that darlin is a book nerd)

Artist/painter, their sketches mostly come of the pack and of course Asher

Tragic mad scientist vibes(no I won’t elaborate)

Super mysterious/ “this person has a dark and grimy past but you can only get that in subtext”

Loves the supernatural and true crime

Immediately picked up on what Quinn was doing with the whole “hurting the things darlin loves” and called that out at darlins first meeting back

Knows a lot of disturbing things like how to properly dissect and hide a body and where exactly you have to stab someone to hurt but not kill

Poet at heart, they are the theatre kid

Is not scared of David at all or at least now they aren’t. At first they were a little wigged out cause he’s one big dude but now they’ll call him a bitch to his face

Very blunt, doesn’t sugar coat shit

Has an arsenal of violent threats that Asher and the rest of the pack aren’t entirely sure if they’re just threats

Has told somebody who was victim blaming darlin that if they don’t shut tf up babe was going to string their guts up while making listen baby shark on loop

On that same note Chrissy was talking just a little to much shit and they told him they were going to sew all his orifices shut if he didn’t shut himself up

Somehow is the worst under pressure but also works the best under pressure at the same time

Know how to fight

Also knows how to use a sword

Surprisingly a lot of patience(I mean look at who their fiancé is guys)

They’re dad is a very big and intimidating man of few words and their mother is the sweetest women alive

Their like average height but Asher is tall as hell so they look short next to him

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted darlin #redacted sam #sam collins #redacted sam collins #redacted david #redacted asher

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andjsjfks · 11 months

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Butterfly Clips and Strawberry Hair Ties

David/Angel

Sometimes being alpha of the pack means sitting amongst the pack pups and letting them do horrendous things to your hair. David didn't mind.

AO3

“You having fun?” David glances upwards, his vision mostly distorted by the colourful array of butterfly clips and beads decorating his fringe, courtesy of the trio of pups surrounding him. The pups pay no mind to the newcomer, far too focused on the task at hand. Behind David, sits Paige and Eva, each braiding small sections of hair at the back of his head. Brightly coloured hair ties, decorated with different plastic fruits sitting comfortably on their wrists. In front is Liam, Paige’s younger brother and the artist behind the spectacle that is David’s fringe.

He’s been meaning to get a haircut for weeks now. Every morning spent in the bathroom mirror complaining that the back is looking far too much like a mullet for his liking. His mate, however, disagrees.

Without it how would they ever have walked in on such a lovely sight?

“Not a word, angel” David murmurs, being careful to not disturb Liam from his handiwork. There’s a fondness in his voice that’s been more apparent as of late, a lightness to him that was hard found a year ago.

It wasn’t just his voice that appeared softer. Over the past couple of months, his shoulders had fallen from their spot up against his ears. The proverbial tie around his neck finally loosened up. Everyone could see it. More often than not he could be found engaging in pack jokes, now laughing along with Asher’s outlandish comments rather than instantly shooting them down.

The pups felt it too, the gradual shift in their alphas attitude. It’s not as if he was ever rude to them not at all. The pups knew in their hearts that no matter what, they could go to David for protection or advice. However, his standoff persona did make it difficult for the pups to play around with him the same way they did Milo or Asher. Paired with his intimidating height and gruff voice, he was certainly a difficult person to face.

But that had changed too, evident by the scene playing out in front of Angel. David cross-legged on the games room floor amidst a certainly creative hair makeover.

“Room for another hairdresser?” Ignoring their mate, Angel directs their question to Liam as he clips another small pink butterfly into the alpha's fringe. The frantic nodding from the boy is answer enough, emphasised by his shuffle to the side of David to create room for the alpha mate.

“Don’t you dare” The warning itself is fruitless, with his mate already having moved from their spot against the doorframe to kneel next to Liam, the youngest of the Shaw Pack pups.

“Which colour should I use?” Angel asks, rummaging through the little plastic box of clips owned by Paige. Wordlessly, Liam hunches over the box, picking out a glittery blue clip and handing it over to them. Liam has always been more on the shy side of things, opting to mostly hide behind his sister and her outgoing personality.

“Wonderful pick bud” They smile. Moving their hands over to an unclipped section of David’s hair, they ran their fingers through it for a brief moment before pushing the clip near the top of the stands, pinning back some of the hair clouding his vision.

David turns to Liam, hand resting on the boy’s own head as he ruffles his hair slightly. “What do you think kiddo, they do a good enough job of it?” Liam puts his full attention on the clip in question, moving David’s head about as he pleases to study the placement. With a smile and a nod, the boy turns back to the box of clips, searching for his next decoration.

A huff can be heard from behind David, as the two girls move his head to once again face forward, continuing on with their braids. His eyes meet his mates, where they wait with a smile and a specific look in their eyes.

It’s a gleam that he’d slowly started becoming more accustomed to. One that only ever appeared when he was found interacting with the youngest of the pack. David knows what that look means, he’s experienced it himself, on those few occasions when Angel’s niece and nephew have stayed the night at their place. When he walked into their living room to find the three of them cuddled up, chatting at a pace few can keep up with about the Disney movie playing on the tv.

The first time he felt it, it scared him. David’s always wanted a family, wanted so desperately to give the love he received as a kid to his own. After the accident, his priorities changed, they had to. He was the alpha now. A pack of wolves looked to him, for support, guidance and safety. His duty to his pack overpowered any dream that he might have wanted for himself. After all, he’d already resigned himself to not finding a mate, never mind having children. So he locked away the dream. Burying it deep beneath his newfound responsibilities as the leader of this pack.

Angel came into his life with a shovel and determination.

Within months of being together, they unearthed every thought he’d ever had about being a dad. That’s what terrified him. David had become so resigned to the idea of never having kids, to instead put all the care and protection he would’ve shown a child towards the pack, that when the thoughts of starting a family with his mate appeared he was overwhelmed by them. How could he possibly divide his love between being a father and an alpha?

Gabe made it look so easy.

David thought it impossible.

Until one night. The door to their apartment not long closed on Angel’s sister after picking up her kids from a ‘weekend with the Shaws’. David and his mate worked in silence, refolding blankets, cleaning up plates, and picking up the array of legos scattered across their living room floor. Silence broken only by the remaining few minutes of The Lion King 2 coming from the tv. As Angel collected the last couple of bricks that had rolled slightly beneath the couch, they cleared their throat. Throwing the plastic into a nearby tub, before resting on their knees and turning towards David in the kitchen.

“Do you want kids?”

Time stopped for just a second. Hands stilled around a plate, wet and in danger of slipping from his hold, especially considering the shock the question sent through him. This is it, he thought. The moment to bare all to them. Share every secret and dream about one day becoming a father to his own, how he longs for it all, every aspect. Early morning cartoons, scrapped knees, stabilizers and bedtime stories. How for years of his life he’d been convinced he’d never be able to have any of these things.

He has so much that he wanted to say.

Instead, he just says, “Yes”.

Angel knows. They can see in his knuckles, how they turned white as he gripped the plate, before loosening his hold and letting the blood flow freely. They see it in the widening of his eyes as he stares out the kitchen window, before relaxing his gaze and turning towards them, a glimpse of something so new and unfamiliar swimming within them. A gaze they’d see again, the next time their niece and nephew visit, and fully understand the meaning of it. They see him. They know him.

“Me too”

That’s all David’s mind needed for everything to fall into place. Confirmation from his mate that they too, wanted a family. He’d already achieved something he once thought impossible by finding them, an unempowered human who loved him, wolf and all. How they not only cared for him but held a fierce love and devotion towards his pack too, their pack. It no longer felt like an outlandish idea to have children of their own, in fact, it felt right.

Why couldn’t he be both an alpha and a dad?

He often wonders if this is how his dad felt, after meeting his mom and creating a pack together. If the idea of family changed in his brain once he found the one person he wanted to share it all with.

The two of them never really spoke about it directly again, instead opting to make little comments that hinted towards their future family together. Angel walking past the baby section of a store and holding up little boots, cooing over how cute they would look on their kid. David finding a mini plastic gardening set and immediately putting it in the cart to store in the attic for whenever they might need it. It was nice, knowing that the two of them were on the same page. In no immediate rush to extend their family, but acknowledging that it would happen at some point in their shared future.

A brush to the side of his face brings him back from deep within his head. Fingertips gently tracing from under his ear to the tip of his chin and back again.

“You know, if you think any harder you’re gonna hurt yourself” They laugh.

Any response from David is cut off by the excited sounds of the girls behind him. Eva clambered up onto her feet to run to his front, jumping slightly on the balls of her feet.

“We’re done! Go look go look” Small hands grab onto one of his own, attempting to pull him up off the floor.

“Ok ok let’s see the masterpiece” David waits for Liam to slide off of the knee he’d ended up on, then gets to his feet and walks over to the mirror hanging on the back of the door.

His hair, for lack of a better word, was a mess. Several clips bunched his hair up in ways that he knows will leave a knot for him to brush out. Some of the clips even sliding from their original places and falling down certain strands. The two braids were uneven and lopsided with chunks of hair falling out the sides and the hair ties too loose to be holding them together for much longer. God knows what reaction this will illicit out of Asher and Tank, the two most known for giving him a hard time about almost anything. Not to mention Sam, who quickly found himself comfortable enough within the pack to start teasing anyone, given the chance. But right now, behind him stood three kids, with gleaming smiles on their faces awaiting their alpha’s highly regarded opinion. And so he smiles.

“I love it, you guys did a great job”

The praise sets the two girls off on a whirlwind, explaining their reasoning behind the hair ties they chose and why. Liam stands quietly at their side, a small smile on his face as he admires the clip still held in his hands.

David tries to focus on what they’re saying he really does, but his mate catches his eye once again. Eyes soft with a smile even softer.

Handsome they mouth, a laugh threatening to escape their lips, but holding it back out of respect for the pups’ feelings. He can’t help the roll of his eyes.

One day, this will be their everyday.

One day, they won’t have to wait for pack meetings or solstices. Or weekends spent babysitting.

David couldn’t be more excited.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted angel #redacted fic #go easy on me this is my first time ever writing a fic #i just couldnt get the idea out of my head #my baby fever has been in full swing recently #i had so much fun writing though #i wanna do more

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