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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

Eren fucking us in the Grammys bathroom before winning his reward. 😵‍💫

bro I’m sliding down the wall!! 😵‍💫😵‍💫 why did this exact thought cross my mind? Say no more.

cw: public and mirror sex, gagging, breeding, choking

it was a night in music that had been long celebrated since its inception many decades ago. Some would consider it the pinnacle of one’s musical success and a crown achievement in their career. The 54th Annual Grammy Awards, where some of the industry’s biggest stars would make an appearance. Including (y/n) (l/n) and your very talented husband, EJ, who happened to be nominated for four different awards this year; ranging from best songwriter, album of the year and even song of the year. It was a huge honor, considering that he wasn’t much for award shows and he was fairly low key. Not to mention, he just didn’t give a fuck about these events all that much…especially when his trophy was already on his arm. From the moment you came down the steps in that Mugler gown that fit like a glove, watching your hips sway as you walked on the red carpet and even left the print of your lipstick on his cheek before getting out of the limo..the only thing at the forefront of his mind was how badly he wanted to finish this up and get you alone. Too bad, he wasn’t much in the way of waiting and instead, whisked you away to the first vacant restroom, bent you over the sink and shoved his dick inside of you. The hem of that thousand dollar dressed clutched in his fist as his pants resided at his hips.. “ha!—ah..eren..fuck..” crying out in a choked up moan; watching your own expression contort through fluttering eyes, trying your best to keep them in the front of your head. But that was all but impossible feeling your husband beat your pussy sore in the bathroom of this prestigious event! He could care less about the whole politicking and who was who..not when he could relentlessly rut his hips and let your soaking heat clamp around him. With your leg hiked up against the marble countertop, Eren snaked a hand around your throat..the fractals of his AP beaming underneath the soft lighting as he choked you out; eventually fucking your pretty little mouth with two fingers to quell and quiet you. “Gotta be quiet, baby..don’t want anyone hearing us, do you?” Ironically stating, considering the fact your skin was smacking and the sound echoed throughout the empty stalls. He was trying his hardest not to smear your makeup or mark you up too much but god, he couldn’t restrain himself. Not when you felt so fucking good..dripping all down his shaft and only seconds from squirting everywhere. That plump ass being thrown back on his pelvis as well. Panting, moaning and whimpering, you’d look back at him with a sneaky expression..knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist that stare. “..let ‘em listen…I don’t give a fuck.” It seemed that was all the motivation he needed to fill you full and send you out into that crowd full of his seed. Jutting forward, he’d slam his base into your backside; speeding up his movements as he were getting closer. The pulsation of his member resonating throughout your walls. “Well if it’s like that, princess…lemme hear it then..” with that hand still clutching you, he’d lean over and nip at your ear, whispering into it while speeding up. “Who’s pussy is this? Tell me who that shit belongs to..” growling and grunting with those tight nerves flexing around him. Hoping you’d give him that final push and once you answered, Eren folded faster than you could get the words out of your mouth. “You, daddy..it’s yours.” With your faces pressed together, meshed for a messy, sloppy kiss..he’d make a couple more unrhythmic strokes before you felt that warm nut spill into that slippery sex. You both came simultaneously..letting you become before you parted ways. There was a huge grin plastered across his face and a fucked out, slutty expression over yours. That was the most intense quickie you’d ever had but that was only a teaser..a taste of how the remainder of the night would go once you finished up here. Giving you a soft pat on the ass before you two pulled yourselves together. “Don’t worry, baby. I got more for you once I win these awards. Let’s hurry up so I can get you all the way up out that dress.”

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elryuse · 13 days

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Yandere Winter...arrange marriage?

The Arranged Marriage

YANDERE WINTER X MALE READER

Winter glared at the ornate wedding invitation, the embossed gold lettering mocking her. "An arranged marriage?" she spat, tossing the card across the room where it landed with a soft thud on a pile of discarded designs. The rejection felt good, a defiant roar against the archaic traditions her family clung to. Winter was a supernova in the K-pop galaxy, her name synonymous with electrifying dance routines and chart-topping hits. Marrying some faceless nobody chosen by dusty family pacts was laughable. There was no time for love, not when she was on a relentless climb to the very pinnacle of K-pop stardom.

"Winter, darling," her manager, Min-seo, a woman whose steely gaze could rival Winter's own, sighed, picking up the discarded invitation. "Your family is serious. They've even chosen a candidate."

"Let me guess," Winter scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Some chaebol heir with a nose for publicity?"

Min-seo shook her head, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Someone more… unexpected. Apparently, his family owns a chain of bakeries across the country."

"A baker?" Winter snorted. "Seriously? What's next, are you going to set me up with a street performer?"

"Stranger things have happened, my dear," Min-seo countered with a sly smile.

Days bled into weeks, a whirlwind of rehearsals, interviews, and promotional appearances. But beneath the carefully constructed facade of the K-pop machine, a gnawing unease began to fester. A dull ache in her side, dismissed as exhaustion at first, intensified into a searing pain that stole her breath away mid-performance. The stage, once her throne, became a torture chamber. The roar of the crowd turned into a distant buzz as she crumpled to the floor, the vibrant lights blurring into a disorienting kaleidoscope.

The sterile white of the hospital room offered a stark contrast to the glitter and synthesizers of her world. The doctor's words hung heavy in the air – liver failure. A life sentence of a slowly fading light, or a desperate gamble on a transplant. Hope, as fragile as a spiderweb, clung to the possibility of a donor, a life preserver in a sea of despair.

Days turned into agonizing weeks, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. Winter, the idol who commanded legions of fans, felt utterly powerless. The awards, the screaming audiences, the carefully curated image – they all felt hollow in the face of her own mortality. Then, a flicker on the horizon. A donor. A match.

The surgery was a blur, waking up to a world she thought she'd lost. And then she saw him. Y/n. A young man, awkward and shy, yet his eyes held an undeniable warmth. "Y-youu s-saved me," Winter rasped, her voice weak but filled with a sincerity that surprised even her.

"I, uh…" Y/n stammered, overwhelmed by the sight of the K-pop icon in such a vulnerable state. "It was nothing. Just… a lucky match, I guess."

But the gratitude, a nascent seed, began to take root in the fertile soil of her isolation. Why him? Why not a wealthy heir or a fellow K-pop star? The questions gnawed at her, a relentless tick in the back of her mind.

Y/n, overwhelmed by the whirlwind that was Winter, disappeared after a brief visit. Her world, once filled with flashing lights and screaming fans, felt deafeningly silent. Obsession, a creeping vine, started to coil around her heart. She couldn't understand why the man who'd saved her life had vanished so completely.

Fueled by a twisted sense of entitlement, Winter used her vast network of resources to track Y/n down. He was found in a small town, flour dusting his clothes as he kneaded dough in a quaint bakery. The scent of cinnamon and warm bread hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the antiseptic sterility of the hospital room where she'd first laid eyes on him.

"Winter?" Y/n stammered, his voice barely rising above the clatter of the mixer. Her smile was dazzling, but her eyes held a glint of steel.

"Remember that wedding, Y/n?" Winter purred, stepping closer, the cloying sweetness in her voice sending shivers down his spine. "The one our families arranged?"

He paled. The memory of the preposterous agreement, something they'd both scoffed at in their youth, resurfaced. "Winter, I… I can't. I don't even…"

"Of course you can, Y/n," she purred, her grip tightening on his arm with a surprising strength. "You saved my life. Isn't it only fair I save you from a life without me?"

Y/n's breath hitched. The playful banter of youth, the easy dismissal of the arranged marriage, felt like a lifetime ago. Now, trapped in the gaze of this powerful, pale woman, he felt a cold dread pool in his stomach. "Winter," he stammered, "T-things have changed. I… I already have someone."

The smile on Winter's face faltered for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something akin to pain crossing her features. But then, it was gone, replaced by a chilling steeliness. "Someone?" she echoed, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Tell me, Y/n, who could possibly compete with the woman that you had saved?"

Panic clawed at Y/n's throat. He knew he shouldn't speak of Mina, his childhood sweetheart who helped run the bakery with him. But the thought of Winter, with her fame and fortune, swooping in and taking everything away, was unbearable. "Mina," he blurted out, his voice barely a squeak. "She's… she's my everything."

Winter's eyes narrowed. "Mina, huh?" A dangerous glint flickered within them. "Then perhaps it's time Mina learned the true meaning of sacrifice."

Y/n's heart lurched. He knew, with a horrifying certainty, that Winter wouldn't hesitate to hurt Mina. He had to get away, to warn Mina. But as he lunged for the bakery door, two burly men in black suits materialized behind Winter, blocking his escape.

"Let me go!" Y/n yelled, his voice choked with fear and defiance. He struggled against the men's grip, but they were simply too strong. A chilling calm settled over Winter as Y/n was dragged away, his pleas for help swallowed by the rhythmic clatter of the mixer.

Back in the opulent prison that was now her mansion, Winter sank into a plush velvet chair, a manic glint in her eyes. Mina was a nuisance, a fly to be swatted away. Winter had the resources, the power, and a twisted sense of entitlement. She would see to it that Y/n understood that his life, his love, everything belonged to her now. The debt, she would convince him, was far from settled.

Winter wasn't above getting her hands dirty. The designer gowns and manicured nails were a facade, a chilling disguise for the monster that lurked beneath. The gifts, the trips, the suffocating luxury – they were all meticulously chosen to twist the knife. They were a constant, sickening reminder of the life Y/n had lost, a life he could never reclaim unless he bent the knee to his gilded prison.

The burly guards were ever-present, shadows flanking him wherever he went. Their stoic silence spoke volumes – a chilling reminder of his captivity, a constant pressure against his will. Winter reveled in his fear, a twisted aphrodisiac that fueled her obsession. His haunted eyes, once filled with warmth, were now a canvas of terror, and Winter found a perverse beauty in that reflection.

One evening, the silence in the opulent mansion was shattered by a strangled gasp. Winter found Y/n slumped on the plush carpet, clutching a single red rose – the same kind that bloomed outside Mina's bakery. A cruel smile, devoid of warmth, stretched across her face.

"Missing your little baker, Y/n?" she purred, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. "Perhaps the croissants weren't so stale after all?"

Y/n scrambled to his feet, the rose falling from his grasp like a crimson tear. His voice, hoarse with terror, rasped, "Leave her alone, Winter. You don't understand."

Winter tilted her head, amusement dancing in her cold eyes. "Oh, I understand perfectly, darling," she countered, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "She's the weed threatening to choke the delicate flower of our love. But fear not, I've taken steps to ensure your garden remains… pristine."

Y/n's blood ran cold. He lunged for her, a desperate snarl twisting his features. But before he could reach her, the guards were upon him, pinning him to the floor with practiced ease. A sickeningly sweet scent filled the air, cloying and thick. Winter held a small, crystal vial aloft, the liquid within shimmering like a captured rainbow.

"A little… encouragement," she purred, her voice laced with a chilling delight. "A reminder that some debts are settled not just with sacrifice, but with obedience."

The truth slammed into Y/n with the force of a sledgehammer. The rose, the scent – it wasn't a coincidence. Winter hadn't just threatened Mina, she'd… incapacitated her. The realization shattered the last vestiges of hope clinging to his heart. Tears streamed down his face, a silent scream lost in the suffocating opulence of the room.

Winter knelt beside him, her touch as cold and sterile as the diamond bracelet adorning her wrist. "Now, Y/n," she murmured, her voice a silken snare, "tell me everything about your little baker. Every detail, every secret. Only then can we truly begin to build a future… together."

A single tear escaped Winter's eye, but it wasn't a tear of remorse. It was a predator savoring its kill, a monstrous artist gazing upon her masterpiece. The once vibrant idol was gone, replaced by a chilling puppet master. In her twisted game of love, Winter wasn't just the prize – she was the player, the architect, the god. And Y/n, a broken marionette, was forever condemned to dance to her macabre symphony of obsession.

The air hung heavy with the stench of disinfectant and a cloying sweetness that clung to Winter like a second skin. Y/n, a hollow shell of his former self, stared at her with a mixture of resignation and a horrifying flicker of something akin to acceptance.

"You'll leave Mina alone," he rasped, his voice raw with despair. "That's the only condition."

Winter tilted her head, a cruel smile playing on her lips. The vial that once held the incapacitating agent was now empty, discarded like a child's forgotten toy. "Such a selfless offer, darling," she purred, her voice dripping with a mockery of sympathy. "But where's the fun in that?"

Y/n flinched, a tremor running through his thin frame. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that Winter wouldn't hesitate. He envisioned Mina, her bright smile replaced by a mask of fear, Winter's cold hand clamped over her mouth.

"Alright," he choked out, the words scraping against his throat. "Marry me. Just… don't you dare hurt her."

Winter's smile widened, a predator savoring the kill. "Such a devoted little lamb," she cooed, her voice laced with a sickening sweetness. "But promises are meant to be broken, wouldn't you agree?"

With a flick of her wrist, a hidden screen on the wall flickered to life. It displayed a live feed – a quaint bakery, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Mina, oblivious, was humming as she dusted flour onto a counter.

Y/n lurched forward, a strangled cry escaping his lips. Winter, with a casual cruelty that sent shivers down his spine, grabbed a remote from the coffee table and pressed a single button.

The screen flickered, then went dark. A sickening silence descended on the room, broken only by Y/n's ragged gasps. Winter stood, her movements predatory as she circled him like a wolf stalking its prey.

A chilling laugh erupted from her throat, echoing in the opulent emptiness of the room. It was a sound devoid of joy, a symphony of twisted satisfaction.

"Consider it a wedding gift, darling," she purred, leaning down to meet his horrified gaze. "Now, shall we seal the deal?"

Before Y/n could react, she grabbed his face, her manicured nails digging into his skin, and slammed her lips onto his. The kiss was cold, a grotesque parody of affection. It reeked of victory, of a love so twisted it had curdled into something monstrous.

Y/n tasted blood, his own metallic tang mingling with the cloying sweetness of her perfume. When she finally pulled away, a single tear traced a path down her cheek.

"A beautiful beginning, wouldn't you say?" she whispered, her voice strangely devoid of emotion.

Y/n stared at her, his eyes hollow and dead. Winter had taken everything from him – his freedom, his love, and in a final, horrifying act, his very soul.

The opulent mansion, once a symbol of wealth and success, now echoed with the deafening silence of a broken man. Winter, the idol turned monster, had claimed her prize. But in her twisted victory, she had also forged her own gilded cage, a prison built on the ashes of love and the chilling emptiness of a heart consumed by a deadly obsession.

The world gasped. Winter, the electrifying idol, the epitome of sunshine and pop perfection, was getting married. Not to some fellow K-pop star, not to a wealthy heir, but to a simple baker from a small town. The news cycle spun with speculation, but the carefully orchestrated photos showed a radiant Winter, her smile brighter than ever, leaning on the arm of a shy-looking Y/n.

The wedding was a spectacle – a meticulously crafted performance. Winter, adorned in a dress that shimmered like a captured dream, walked down a rose-petal strewn aisle. The cheers and applause were deafening, a symphony orchestrated by her team. But beneath the flawless facade, a horrifying truth festered.

Y/n, his eyes as dead as the diamonds on her hand, was a ghost of his former self. His smile was a practiced rictus, a mask that hid the chilling emptiness within. Every touch from Winter felt like a branding iron, every whispered word a cruel reminder of the life he'd lost.

During the vows, Winter's voice, sweet and saccharine, spoke of eternal love and devotion. Y/n's response, devoid of emotion, echoed in the cavernous hall. Yet, the cameras captured a perfect picture: a love story for the ages.

The reception was a whirlwind of flashing lights and champagne flutes. Winter, a consummate performer, played the part of the blissful bride. Y/n, trapped in his gilded cage, danced with a practiced ease that sent shivers down the spines of those who knew him best.

As the night wore on, and the guests began to depart, the mask slipped from Winter's face. In the seclusion of their suite, a terrifying coldness settled in her eyes.

"You played your part well, darling," she purred, her voice devoid of warmth.

Y/n, a broken marionette, said nothing. There was nothing left to say. His silence was a deafening testament to the monster he was now chained to.

Winter leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "But remember, Y/n," she whispered, a cruel smile playing on her lips, "our dance has just begun."

The world reveled in the fairy tale wedding, oblivious to the chilling truth behind the glittering facade. Winter, the idol, had achieved her twisted victory. Y/n, trapped in a gilded cage with a monster disguised as a lover, was forever condemned to a dance macabre, his only companion the hollow echo of a love destroyed and a life stolen. The price of Winter's twisted obsession was a broken man, a chilling reminder that sometimes the most beautiful smiles hide the most terrifying darkness.

Months bled into a year, a year of gilded bars and a suffocating emptiness. Winter, however, seemed to grow restless. The sparkle in her eyes, once fueled by performance and adoration, had dimmed, replaced by a cold, steely glint.

One evening, as Y/n sat slumped in a plush armchair, a cold, clinical document landed in his lap. It was a fertility report, his name stark against the sterile white background. Winter stood before him, a predatory smile twisting her features.

"It seems you're perfectly healthy, Y/n," she purred, her voice laced with a chilling possessiveness. "Time to fulfill your duties as my husband, wouldn't you say?"

Y/n's blood ran cold. He understood now. This wasn't just about possession; it was about creating a permanent tie, a child who would forever bind him to her. The very thought of bringing a life into this twisted reality filled him with a soul-crushing despair.

But defiance was a luxury he no longer possessed. The guards, ever-present shadows, flanked him, a constant reminder of his captivity. He could fight, he could scream, but it would be a futile effort. Winter held all the cards, and Y/n was nothing but a pawn in her macabre game.

In the following weeks, the once vibrant mansion became a sterile prison. Doctors became regular visitors, their pronouncements echoing with a chilling finality. Y/n became a vessel, his body another stage for Winter's twisted performance.

The day the pregnancy test came back positive, Winter's smile could have rivaled the rising sun. Y/n, however, felt a cold dread settle in his gut. This wasn't a victory; it was a life sentence, not just for him, but for the innocent child who would be born into this gilded cage.

The world outside continued to celebrate Winter, the idol who had it all – a perfect marriage, a blossoming career, and now, a child on the way. But behind the carefully constructed facade, a monstrous truth festered. Winter, the idol, had become a puppeteer, her strings controlling not just Y/n's life,

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hotvintagepoll · 29 days

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Propaganda

Irene Dunne (The Awful Truth, Theodora Goes Wild, My Favorite Wife)— The first time I saw her in Theodora Goes Wild she struck me dumb because who is that BEAUTIFUL woman being so funny and clever??? She was primarily known as a dramatic actress (and believe you me those are muscles she can FLEX, Penny Serenade hurts my feelings) but she’s also one of the funniest screwball leading ladies I’ve ever seen. Her films with Cary Grant are especially charming, but all her characters have this knowing quality in the heart of them that’s so intriguing, and her screwball girlies have this freedom to go after what (or who) they want that is delightfully subversive. I want to be her, I want to fuck her, I want to see every movie she’s ever done, she is a brilliant actress and she is my dream woman.

Devika Rani (Achhut Kanya)—She was grandniece of Rabindranath Tagore (laureate). She was sent to boarding school in England at age nine and grew up there. After completing her schooling, she joined the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) and the Royal Academy of Music to study acting and music, at a time when aristocratic women did not enter showbiz. She studied filmmaking in Berlin. It is well known that she underwent training at the UFA Studios in the art and technique of acting under Eric Pommer, and other aspects of film production including costume and set designing and make-up, under eminent directors like GW Pabst, Fritz Lang, Emil Jannings and Josef von Sternberg. She is also reported to have worked with Marlene Dietrich. She had a multi-faceted personality and took on many responsibilities of film production at Bombay Talkies, a studio that she co-founded with Himanshu Rai in Mumbai in 1934. She often took care of hair and make up, supervised set design and editing, scouted for new talent and mentored them. She was the face of Bombay Talkies, and also the reason behind the political and financial backing the studio received, at a time when even women from red light districts refused to work as actresses. She was the first recipient of the Dadasaheb Phalke Award, when it was instituted in 1970.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Irene Dunne:

irene excelled in screwball comedies, musicals, melodramas...she could do it all. she often played elegant society ladies and brought sparkling charisma and poise for days to anything she did, and sang like an angel (she pursued opera before going into moves), her rendition of jerome kern's "smoke gets in your eyes" in roberta moves me to tears every time.

youtube

A fantastic star of screwball comedies Irene Dunne is an undersung hot woman in my opinion. She rose to fame in her roles alongside the likes of Cary Grant, and was usually the funniest person in her movies. And the hottest.

She's snarky, and quick, prone to rolling her eyes, and eager to trip her counterparts up. In short, she was a devilish, charming, problem of a woman in many of her films, the pinnacle of hotness.

She’s so gorgeous and funny and her way of acting is so fresh and timeless! She’s the complete package of hotness to me with her talents, humor, and, of course, hot looks. I named my left tit after her to hopefully attract even a smidgen of her beauty and charm.

Devika Rani:

Achhut Kanya (1936) is the only one of hers I've seen but hot DAMN

#devika rani #irene dunne #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2 #Youtube

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goldfyshie927 · 3 months

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Absolutely baffled that people are comparing the Barbie movie not getting certain awards show noms as like an example of modern feminist issues. Sometimes movies are fun but not good enough for an award and that’s not an example of anything??? If Barbie is the pinnacle of feminism for you… I hate to break it to you but you’re stuck about 10 years behind the curve in understanding what feminism is really all about at this point. Please expand your a) understanding of feminism and b) movie watching views. There are plenty of amazing movies out there beyond Barbie, I promise. And plenty of resources to get you up to speed on feminism today.

#I swear I’ve seen so much discourse around the Barbie movie #and people being like THIS IS A SLIGHT AGAINST WOMEN!!#oh my fuuuuckkng god grow up!!!#it just wasn’t good enough for those noms!!!!#sometimes that happens with movies we like!!!!#it will be okay I promise!!!!!#Oscars discourse

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pokemoncenter · 6 months

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On Badge awarding

Every Pokemon League has eight full-fledged Gyms in its circuit at any given time. Sometimes, which cities those Gyms belong to, and who leads the Gyms, will change. It is common, but not required, for Gyms to specialize in a single type, as well. Trainers who become strong enough to become Gym Leaders are usually those who seek the pinnacle of their chosen favorite type, after all.

To challenge a Pokemon League's Elite Four, generally, the region's eight badges are required. And generally, the badges are acquired by defeating a Gym Leader in a battle. This has caused a great many misconceptions, especially in those who do not battle.

A Gym Leader's purpose is not to win. It is to acknowledge a Trainer is worthy of recognition. To facilitate this, Gym Leaders will rarely, if ever, use their personal team against challengers, instead using ones raised for the purpose of the Gym Challenge. They match their ability to the challenger. They test if a Trainer is capable of overcoming someone their equal, by strategy, or by training. Furthermore, these battles will often give insight into what kind of a Trainer, and what kind of person, the challenger is.

As a result, Gym Leaders are often seen as 'jobbers', whose purpose is to lose, and often believed to be much weaker than they really are.

However, the truth is that Gym Leaders using their personal teams are often able to give Elite Four members a run for their money.

It is also important to note that a Gym Leader is not obligated to award a badge just because the challenger won, nor are they obligated to not give a badge if the challenger loses. What matters is if they feel the challenger deserves acknowledgment. If a Trainer pioneers a new, creative battle strategy but still loses the battle, a Gym Leader may award the badge regardless in recognition of their skill and potential. And if a Trainer wins their battle, but does so through abusing or risking their Pokemon, the Leader will usually refuse to award the badge.

A Gym's purpose is to encourage the growth of a Trainer, and encourage the bond between them and their Pokemon.

That is all there is to it.

#pokeblogging #pkmn irl #unreality

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moira-mains-go-to-hell · 1 year

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A Little Less Conversation…

OuiHaw x AFAB Reader [Ashe x Widowmaker (Amelie Lacroix) x Reader]

Warnings: use of She/Her pronouns, suggestive content, mentions of violence, men being gross, pet names (Sugar, Mon Cuer, Cherie)

A/N: Babes, this is supposed to have a smutty part two, so if you want it, let me know.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you two at least act like you want to be here,” you adjusted your earrings and fixed your hair in the mirror. Tonight was the Talon Investors Gala, where you and agents alike would be wooing larger corporations to fund the organization. As the head of technological advancement and board member, you were expected to attend no matter what, but neither of your girlfriends seemed to want to go with you.

“Cherie, you know as soon as I enter the door, I will be swept away by Moira as the ‘pinnacle of her research’,” Amelie strode up next to you , adorned in a red floor length dress with a slit on each side.

“And I don’t even think I’m supposed to be there,” Ashe was sat on the bed of your hotel room, tie and shirt undone as she waited for the two of you.

“Nonsense, Moira has researchers to entertain the whole night with her life force siphoning-thingy and her little bug spray,” you finish up, giving yourself a once over before leaving the bathroom, “ and you are technically on my payroll because you traffic weapons for me to make better. You belong,” you smile and kiss the white haired woman’s cheek.

“But there are gonna be so many people,” Ashe cupped your cheek and pulled you closer.

“And if we stay here,” Amelie made her way behind you, wrapping her hands around your waist and cementing your spot between both women, “we don’t have to worry about anyone getting too close to you, mon cuer.”

“I like the sound of that,” Ashe’s hand on your cheek moved to your chin, her thumb grazing over your bottom lip.

You almost let them win when your phone wrang, the boss himself calling. Both women let go of you with a sigh as you chuckled and moved out of their grasp.

“Hello?… Yes… We are going to be there Akande, don’t fret…Oh? Ok… go get ready, stop worrying about me. Good bye,” you hung up and ran a hand through your hair.

“Since when are you on first name basis with him?” Amelie was now sitting next to Ashe, both of them finally ready to go out.

“Since I pushed Talon ahead of Vishkar and the Russians, which is why I need to go tonight, they are looking to outsource and buy me out of some of my designs,” you grabbed your coat and your gun and made your way to the door, “it would be really great if the women I love where in my corner tonight.”

“We will be Sugar, don’t you worry,” they got up and followed you out the door, “but why are you bringing the fire power?”

“Akande told me we may have uninvited guests, and don’t act like both of you aren’t packing,” you laugh as you tuck it into the top of your dress.

Amelie gave Ashe a knowing look and the cowgirl let out a light chuckle, “We’re packing something alright.”

The comment didn’t register at first, but then a blush grew from the base of your neck to your nose.

“Oh come on Cherie, as if we would pass up an opportunity to let your mind wonder.”

You had gathered yourself and entered the ballroom, looking around to all of the people in front of you. As you walked to your table you waved at associates and team members you worked with, flashing an award winning smile to everyone in your wake.

“You know, you really look like you are in your element, you positive you need us?” Ashe leant down and whispered in your ear, her hands in her coat pockets.

“Yes, because I need a reason to bail out of a conversation if I don’t like it.”

You made your way to your table, a few chairs empty but most had name plates of other board members that would be joining you or are already on the floor.

“Thank you for finally showing your face, I almost thought I’d have to come find you myself,” the Doomfist stood to greet you and shake your hand, “I see you brought Ms. Lacroix and the cowboy with you.”

“Akande, be respectful, she does business with us, she can be here,” you pat his shoulder and place your coat on the back of your chair, “I’m going get a drink and swindle Viskar out of more money than they can comprehend. Ashe, keep our Love Bug away from Moira if she happens to get loose.”

The brunette coughed at the nickname and your boss gave you an amused glance.

“Don’t worry hun, she’s not going anywhere.”

All three of them watched as you shifted effortlessly into your professional persona, entrapping people in conversation and then swiftly moving on after getting what you needed from them.

“You know she’s kind of hot when she does all that sweet talking,” Ashe sat back down after her own journey to the bar, passing one of the drinks she had to the assassin next to her.

Amelie hummed in agreement, taking a sip of her drink, “Confidence looks good on her, her brazenness almost rivals yours.”

“That will never happen, but she’s getting close.”

They both watch you as you talk up an older gentleman at a table across the room. You sat next to him, laughing at him, keeping him entertained, and then he scooted closer. It was a small movement, one that you didn’t seem to notice, but the two pairs of eyes watching, it was obvious.

“He is getting pretty chummy, ain’t he?”

“Indeed, but let’s not intervene just yet,” Amelie took Ashe’s hand into hers as they watched the rest of the interaction.

The man put his hand over yours, you quickly retracted to occupy it with your drink. You glanced around the room and made eye contact with your partners, raising your eyebrows at them before going back.

He was persistent, if not bold. Leaning further into you and putting his arm over the back of your chair. You remained composed but when your posture stiffened, the women across the room where ready to get up at any moment.

You wrapped up the conversation as he wrote on the back of a business card and handed it to you. Heading back to the table, you pulled out a notebook and a tape recorder from your pockets and placed them in front of your boss.

“Here, written and spoken promises, business cards and contact info are book marking each section, I’m out,” you sigh, picking up your jacket, “that last guy was gross.”

“You tolerate a man like that again and I will not hesitate to end him,” Amelie said the threat casually, giving a little shrug, “let us go, we have a room to get to.”

“I’m talked out for the evening. See you at the next board meeting Akande, but I need to leave,” Your girlfriends where just about ready to go when the large man grabbed your hand at the last second.

“You have one more guest to impress, then you may leave,” his voice was low, you all sat back down with different expressions of grievance on your face.

“What creep am I supposed to be meeting with now?”

“That ‘creep’ would be me,” none other than Katya Volskaya made her way over to the table, flanked by two guards.

You quickly swept the recorder and notebook up and put them back in the pockets of your romper.

“I thought you killed her?” You grit through your teeth to Amelie, giving her a confused glare.

“I missed the window of opportunity, and he,” she nodded to Akande, “saw a new opportunity for her, so we never went back.”

You let out a short lived groan before resuming your pageant ready attitude.

“Ms. Volskaya, pleasure to meet you,” you stuck your hand across the table, hers meeting yours as you gesture for her and her goons to sit.

Both of the women beside you watched in as as you commanded the table, laying out all of the plans and ideas she may be interested in and working her to get the best deal possible. Ashe was never a negotiator except for between the gang, and Amelie was just a hired gun, never in the room where it happens.

“… And what if we don’t just call the Russian forces or Overwatch and have your technology without the hassle?” Volskaya payed out the threat like a trump card, making eye contact with both you and your boss. Akande went to move but you put a hand up, stopping him.

Before you said anything you felt Ashe put a hand on your thigh, squeezing it. You looked over at both her and Amelie, Ashe giving you a look of ‘let her have it’, and Amelie wearing a small grin as she nodded back to the Russian in front if you.

“The tech I’m selling you is to protect your country and let cattle die like heros,” you fold your hands together and lean forward, “the tech I’m keeping for myself can burn down the whole cattle farm. By all means, call your special forces… you can tell their families they died because you brought a spoon to a gunfight.”

You stood, looking at Akande and smiling, “Volskaya Industries isn’t interested in working with us, remove them from the investors list-“

“Name your price,” Katya looked up at you, her hands balled on the table. Your smile grew sinister, matching the look in your eyes.

“We will be in touch, but you keep your lines open,” you wave her goodbye and grab your coat once again, your girlfriends following two steps behind as you make your way to the exit.

“Sugar, if I'd have known how hot you are when you do business I’d have made you do all my dirty work,” Ashe undid her tie as soon as you hit the door.

“Well you two are so reluctant to come with me on business trips. You’d see a lot more,” you took your earrings and heels off, moving to help Amelie with her dress.

“How about we see a lot more tonight?” Ashe’s breath felt hot as you where once again sandwiched between the two women, the cowgirl behind you holding your back to her front.

“I wouldn’t mind showing you.”

#overwatch #ashe overwatch #elizabeth caledonia ashe #widowmaker #widowmaker overwatch #ouihaw #ashe x reader overwatch #ashe x reader #ashe x fem reader #widowmaker x reader #amelie lacroix #Amelie lacroix x reader #widowmaker x fem reader #overwatch 2 #doomfist #ouihaw x reader #ouihaw x fem reader

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reasonsmandy · 11 months

Text

The Grammys

Eddie Roundtree x Fem! Reader

✧.* requested by two anon —¹ I’d really really appreciate if you wrote something for Eddie roundtree that was like him and reader is a pop singer who’s like just as big as six and they’re both like at their height and they go to like the grammys together and it’s a huge press thing bc there’s been speculation and rumours abt them but they’ve been secretly together until now and the media have a field day and they both win awards and just really fluffy and maybe smutty too but I’d appreciate anything the lack of Eddie on this app is appalling -thankyoouuu.

² Prompt 39, 31 and 25 - I don’t know if it’s too many or not but I swear the tension that all these prompts make would be amazing! Obviously a happy/fluffy ending! I absolutely love your writing!

✧.* summary — You could easily say this was the night of your life, and he certainly made it that much more special.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 3.4k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

As you stood before the grand mirror, the luxurious red dress you wore seemed to embrace every curve of your body, transforming you into a living masterpiece. The intricate beading and elegant draping made you feel like a modern-day Renaissance painting, radiating a mesmerizing allure. Each jewel adorning your skin caught the light, accentuating your magnificence and leaving no doubt that you were the embodiment of grace and beauty. The reflection staring back at you affirmed what you had known all along: tonight, you would command the attention of all who beheld you.

As a team of talented stylists and makeup artists worked their magic, you couldn't help but smile gratefully, realizing that this moment was the culmination of countless hours of dedication and perseverance. The path to this extraordinary night had been paved with tireless efforts, unwavering determination, and an unwavering belief in your own talent.

You remembered the days and nights spent perfecting each lyric, pouring your heart into every melody, and collaborating with Teddy Price, your trusted producer and adviser. Teddy had seen your potential long before anyone else, supporting you with unyielding faith and pushing you to reach new heights. Together, you had embarked on a journey fueled by a shared vision, navigating the twists and turns of the music industry to arrive at this pivotal moment.

As the hour approached, you found yourself seated in the plush comfort of the awaiting vehicle, your heart pounding with a potent mix of excitement and nervous energy. The anticipation was almost tangible, as if the very air was charged with the electric energy of the impending event. The soft skid of the car pulling away signaled the beginning of a remarkable night, one that would etch itself into the annals of your career forever.

Through the window, the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of color as you made your way towards the prestigious venue. The vibrant streets mirrored the palpable buzz of anticipation that resonated deep within you. The Grammy Awards, the pinnacle of musical recognition, awaited your arrival. Every artist's dream was about to unfold before your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming mix of pride, excitement, and humility.

The vehicle came to a halt, and you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as the moment drew near. With each beat of your heart, you embraced the realization that you had earned your place among the most talented musicians in the world. You were no longer the aspiring artist with dreams in her eyes; you were now the embodiment of those dreams, ready to captivate the hearts and souls of all who would witness your performance.

As the car door opened, a cascade of blinding camera flashes and the deafening roar of the crowd welcomed you to the threshold of this extraordinary night. You stepped out, a vision of elegance and confidence, basking in the adoration and admiration of your peers. The weight of the world may have rested upon your shoulders, but you carried it with grace, knowing that every step you took brought you closer to a destiny you had worked tirelessly to achieve.

You navigated the sea of well-wishers, exchanging warm smiles and embraces with fellow artists, feeling a sense of camaraderie and connection that only those who had walked a similar path could understand. The music that filled the air enveloped you like a comforting embrace, reminding you of the power and magic that awaited within the venue's hallowed walls.

This was your night, a night where dreams turned into reality, where your voice would resonate through the halls and touch the hearts of all who listened. You were watched by so many eyes, but one pair of eyes on you in particular seemed to burn.

Eddie Roundtree could only see you there, you were the only one that mattered. Beside him Warren held his drumsticks like "his trademark" posing for the photographers who shouted his name and blowing kisses to the girls who screamed for him, the blonde ignored his insistent calls, his gaze was fixed on you smiling at the photos, greeting the others present at the event and from time to time giving an interview for a report.

After a while watching you from a distance, the bassist pulls his friend by the arm, the drummer without understanding just follows him, waving goodbye to the fans.

"Eddie, what the hell man?" Warren questions, walking into the event with his friend, taking in the surroundings in awe. He always wanted to be here. "I was busy out there."

Roundtree rolls her eyes, "The girls will be there when you leave." He says with certainty, moving on to find the rest of the band to sit together. He couldn't take his eyes off that red dress in the crowd, he just couldn't get over your beauty.

You and Eddie had already crossed paths before, after all, you were on the same label. The first time you talked was at Teddy's birthday party, it wasn't a very long conversation, you were both very drunk so the only thing you remember was ending up kissing each other in a dark room by the end of the night. Since then you have a kind of "thing", an unnamed relationship, something that you both felt and lived a thousand times, you felt like it and quenched it as many times as necessary, but no one could know... For your own good.

It wasn't good for you to change the image you had on the record label, you didn't want anyone to hit on you, much less for things to change just because now you slept with Eddie. Then everything would remain confidential, and that's the end of the story.

And there you were, being admired by everyone at that event, and he couldn't show anyone that he was completely in love with you. You didn't know that, after all, he had never said it, but just seeing you like that made him feel the words escape his throat, wanting to shout to everyone that you were the woman he loved, that he wanted by his side, that you were his and he was completely surrendered to you.

…

As the night progressed, the air in the venue became charged with excitement and anticipation. The awards ceremony began, and each category announcement sent a wave of tension through the crowd. Backstage, you and Eddie found yourselves stealing glances at each other whenever the spotlight shifted away from the stage. The unspoken connection between you two seemed to intensify with each passing moment, as if the magnetic pull that had brought you together refused to be ignored.

As the evening unfolded, Daisy Jones and the Six, Eddie's band, secured their first Grammy win in one of the categories. The room erupted in applause and cheers, and Eddie's eyes sparkled with a mix of joy for his bandmates and pride for their achievement. He turned to you, a radiant smile playing at his lips, silently sharing the triumph with you.

"You were amazing out there," Eddie whispered, his voice filled with admiration. "I couldn't take my eyes off you. The way you commanded the stage... it's, fuck, mesmerizing."

Blushing at his words, you whispered back, "You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Grammy Winner. Congratulations, Eddie. You truly deserve it."

You couldn't help but feel a swell of happiness for Eddie and the rest of Daisy Jones and the Six. Their success was well-deserved, and it only deepened your admiration for his musical talent. However, beneath the surface, a bittersweet realization tugged at your heart. The need for secrecy prevented you from openly celebrating their victory together, from embracing him in the euphoria of the moment. It was a reminder of the sacrifices you both had made to protect your hidden connection. And that's when you notice for the first time that you wanted to celebrate that with him in another way, in a more intimate way, to show yourself there for him.

Throughout the night, as more awards were announced and the energy in the room continued to escalate, you and Eddie found yourselves stealing moments whenever you could. With each category announcement, while others focused on the stage, you would discreetly slip away from the crowd, finding hidden corners and secluded areas where you could steal passionate kisses and stolen glances. The thrill of the clandestine rendezvous heightened the intensity of your desire for each other, fueling a fire that burned beneath the surface.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the event, Eddie would pull you aside, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Let's take a moment away from all this chaos," he'd suggest, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "I need to steal you away for just a little while."

Giggling, you'd follow him eagerly, your heart racing in anticipation of the stolen moments you were about to share. In those hidden corners, away from prying eyes, he would whisper sweet compliments, his voice laced with adoration.

"Have I told you that you look breathtaking tonight?" Eddie would murmur, his eyes tracing every curve of your figure. "But I have to admit, it makes me a little jealous seeing all those eyes on you. I want to be the only one who gets to see you like this." He whispers, kissing your neck, you feel a shiver down your spine.

You'd blush, feeling a surge of warmth at his words. "Well, I think you'll have to deal with it, 'cuz I have a lot of suitors out there." You shrug, pulling away from his grip.

He raises his eyebrows in disbelief, looking around you in fear someone might see you. "What a smart little mouth you have, huh."

You smile, loving teasing him. "I just told you the truth, it's not my fault that I look beautiful in red."

His fingers would gently brush against your cheek as he leaned in, his voice husky. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever seen, but fuck I love being thwarted by you."

You smile, getting dangerously close to his face. "You like the way I drive you crazy, don't you Roundtree?"

He pushes you against the wall, whispering against your ear, his breath making your entire body shiver. "I hate when you act like that."

A playful smile would tug at your lips as you playfully retorted, "Ah, so that's it, you hate me? Say it to my face then! I'm here, listening to you…" You hold his chin, making him stare at you, fuck... He was completely given to you.

"You can't, right?" You smile, proud to hear he doesn't respond after a considerable time.

Eddie's expression would soften, his gaze filled with affection. Something you really didn't expect, since you were in a different mood, you look questioningly "Don't look at me that way, I haven't done anything. I'm just... helplessly in love with you."

You think you heard wrong, he just smiles and kisses you one more time. The world around you would fade into the background as your lips met in a fiery embrace, the outside world temporarily forgotten. These stolen interludes became your secret haven, where the weight of expectation and the complexities of your careers melted away, leaving only the raw connection between two souls deeply entwined in the music that brought them together.

You hear the end of the presentation and the call for the next nominees, then you return to your seats, you try to hide your racing heart due to Eddie's words but it only gets worse when you notice that this was your nomination. You go back to sitting in your seat, listening to the presenter narrate in a slow and torturous way, it was as if he was speaking at 0.75 speed, you wanted to go there and snatch that paper from his hand and find out at once.

It's like falling off a swing, going down a roller coaster, all the confidence you've carried with you this far slips away and you feel ridiculous thinking you could win that award. You close your eyes, your knuckles must be so white because your hands tingle from the grip you press against them, you feel the coldness of the rings against the palm of his hands the pain of the pressure is soon present, the tension in his shoulders seems to consume you with every word that man says. You open your eyes for a moment, bringing your gaze to Eddie and the rest of the Band, Warren is hugging their grammy like it's a baby smiling at you pointing to the stage in encouragement, Daisy smiles trying to give you comfort, you can read Eddie's lips saying "This award is already yours".

As you stand there, frozen in the moment, you hear the announcer's voice resonating through the grand hall. "And the Grammy for Best Album of the Year goes to... Y/N L/N!"

Time seems to stand still as the words sink in. The room erupts into thunderous applause, a symphony of cheers and admiration for your musical prowess. Your heart swells with a mix of overwhelming joy, disbelief, and gratitude. A single tear escapes from the corner of your eye and traces a glistening path down your cheek.

With trembling legs, you make your way toward the stage. Each step feels surreal, as if you're floating on a cloud of euphoria. The spotlight follows you, illuminating your radiant smile and the shimmering tears of happiness in your eyes.

As you reach the podium, the presenter hands you the coveted Grammy trophy, a symbol of recognition for your artistic brilliance. You hold it in your hands, feeling the weight of the moment, and glance out at the sea of faces, each one a testament to the impact your music has had.

Taking a deep breath, you approach the microphone, your voice steady but laced with emotion. "Thank you," you begin, your voice resonating with genuine appreciation. "This moment is a dream come true, one that I never could have achieved without the unwavering support of my incredible team, my family, and my fans."

The crowd erupts into applause once again, their adoration washing over you like a tidal wave. You continue, your words fueled by the overwhelming surge of gratitude and love within you. "I want to dedicate this award to every person who has ever believed in me, who has felt the emotions I poured into this album. This Grammy is for you. And to my fellow nominees, thank you for inspiring me to reach higher and push the boundaries of my art."

A thunderous applause reverberates through the hall, a standing ovation from your peers, acknowledging your talent and the impact you have made on the music industry. In that moment, you feel an indescribable sense of fulfillment, knowing that your music has touched the hearts and souls of so many.

As you step away from the microphone, the room fills with admiration and reverence. The applause echoes in your ears, a symphony of triumph and celebration. You hold the Grammy tightly to your chest, feeling the weight of the honor and the countless hours of dedication that led to this moment.

Walking back to your seat, you catch Eddie's eyes in the crowd. He is beaming with pride, his applause ringing out among the rest. With a mixture of gratitude and affection, you share a brief, knowing glance, acknowledging the role he played in shaping the album that has now been recognized as the best of the year.

Amidst the applause and adulation, you find a moment of stillness, closing your eyes briefly, as if to etch this extraordinary moment deep into your memory. The realization that your music has touched hearts, moved souls, and now earned the highest accolade in the industry washes over you like a tidal wave of affirmation.

And as the applause gradually subsides, you take a final look at the Grammy in your hands, a symbol of your triumph, and a testament to the power of your artistry. With renewed determination and a heart filled with boundless gratitude, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey that lies ahead, a journey filled with more music, more passion, and more extraordinary moments to be cherished.

…

You pulled the cigarette smoke with your eyes closed, feeling his kisses on your shoulder, the cold early morning wind hit your half-naked skin while his skin warmed you from behind on that porch. The two of you had escaped the crowd to take advantage of each other's presence, congratulate each other on winning the night in a special way, from the balcony you were able to see LA with an air of indifference, as if you didn't belong there, as if you were more than that in a way, feeling part of something bigger.

He continues kissing your shoulder and you put out the cigarette, throwing it away, turning to him and kissing his mouth tenderly, he pulls you close, enjoying your presence near him, feeling your skin was the best thing for him, he knew nothing could match having you under his fingertips. You caress his long blonde hair, lightly pulling his strands feeling him shiver with your touch, he gently pushes you against the glass that separates the balcony from the apartment and you gently end the fervent kissing session with pecks on his lips.

You watch him under the moonlight feeling your chest fill with gratitude for that day, feeling in fact the luckiest woman in the world during that night. You had won a Grammy and you were sleeping with the bassist from the most famous band in the world, better yet, you were falling in love with this bassist.

You hold his face tenderly, wanting this moment to last forever. "You know what?" You question in a whisper, he denies with his head, looking deep into your eyes. "I'm hopelessly in love with you too." You confess and he opens a playful smile, letting out a laugh making you frown not understanding.

"Tell me something I don't know." He shrugs and you give him the middle finger, walking into the apartment and throwing yourself on the bed. "We're both head over heels in love with each other and we're both idiots wanting to deny it" he says laying down next to you, pulling you closer.

You laugh, taking one of your hands to his hair. "Who told you that I've been in love with you for a while?"

"Oh shut up!" He says kissing you, while tickling you.

You pull away from the playful tickling match, both of you breathless and with smiles that light up the room. Your laughter subsides, but the warmth and connection between you remain strong.

Eddie leans against the balcony railing, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know," he says with a playful smirk, "I think I might have to start a new category at the Grammys for 'Best Kisser.' I'm pretty sure you'd sweep that one too."

You playfully roll your eyes, crossing your arms. "Oh, please," you retort, feigning mock arrogance. "We all know you're just trying to win an award for 'Best Flirt'."

He raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. "Flirting is my hidden talent, babe," he replies, leaning in closer. "But I think you're the real winner here. 'Best Tease' category goes to you, hands down."

You giggle, giving him a light shove. "Oh, come on now," you say, pretending to be offended. "I'm just having a little fun with you. Can't blame me for keeping you on your toes."

He chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist. "Trust me, I wouldn't have it any other way," he says, pulling you closer. "It's those teasing moments that make being with you so damn exhilarating."

You lean in, whispering in his ear, "You do realize that the award for 'Best Couple Banter' is also in our future, right?"

He grins, his breath tickling your neck. "No doubt about it," he replies, his voice filled with playful confidence. "We're gonna sweep the Grammys and steal the show with our banter skills. Just wait and see."

As you both share a lighthearted laugh, the night breeze carries away any lingering tension. In this moment, with playful banter and gentle touches, you realize that the connection between you and Eddie is not just about music and awards—it's about enjoying each other's company, embracing the fun and spontaneity of life, and cherishing the joy of being together.

You stay on the balcony, arms intertwined, savoring the laughter and the shared moments. The world may know you as Grammy-winner artists, but in this private space, you're simply two souls entwined in a light-hearted and beautiful love story. And as the night unfolds, you can't wait to see what other funny, romantic, and adventurous chapters await you both.

...

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