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why Aurora's art is genius
It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.
And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.
I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.
SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???
All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3
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I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!
Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.
Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.
THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)
Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:
Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:
Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.
I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.
If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!
Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:
Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.
A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):
(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)
The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—
—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.
(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)
Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!
One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!
And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—
—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)
Additionally, the misting here:
We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.
A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).
Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):
First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:
The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.
The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.
The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.
A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:
The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)
The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart
The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand
The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)
I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.
Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:
Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.
Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)
And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.
Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.
Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):
It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:
Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.
And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.
One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.
A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.
Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?
Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):
The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:
What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P
Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):
They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.
Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.
And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3
...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.
#aurora comic#aurora webcomic#comicaurora#art analysis#...I hope those are the right tags???#new fandom new tagging practices to learn ig#much thanks for something to read while I try to rest my wrists. carpal tunnel BAD. (ignore that I wrote this I've got braces ok it's fine)#anyway! I HAVE. MANY MORE THOUGHTS. ON THE STORY ITSELF. THIS LOVELY STORY#also a collection of reactions to a chunk of the comic before I hit the point where I was too busy reading to write anything down#idk how to format those tho#...yeet them into one post...???#eh I usually don't go off this much these days but this seems like a smaller tight-knit fandom so... might as well help build it?#and I have a little more time thanks to break so#oh yes also shoutout to my insanely awesome professor for teaching me all the technical stuff from this he is LOVELY#made an incredibly complex program into something comprehensible <3#synapse talks
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[SMUT] TWICE Mina x Male Reader - "House Of Balloons"
Requested by my buddy and fellow author @mintchoccy, I'm really sorry again if I haven't been able to write it for months, man. I had to focus on other works. Hope this would be fine enough to be worth the wait.
TRIGGER WARNING: Aside from mature content, this contains drugs, violence, non-con ( I really didn't want to write with this theme but since it's my second attempt of writing a yandere Mina fic and for the sake of the plot, I had to give what the previous is lacking) and other uncomfortable parts.
WORD COUNT: 5700+
TAGS: yandere, obssession, aphrodisiacs, viagra, rough sex, edging, dominant, worship, non-con element, torture, angst, smut
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"That fucking snake again."
Mina has had enough.
She calmly watches such an atrocity of a view, her hands fumbling vigorously within the curves of the wineglass, her fingernails scraping in time with the pattern of her gritting teeth covered through her tight-lipped lips.
The one that she likes- no, she loves - a lot legitimately is talking to somebody. It's their friend but in her perspective, she felt like she could just erase her existence and remove any identification of her being into her whole life.
That one and only man she's head over heels for quite a long time now is YN, unbeknowst to him that girl she's with, named Sana turns out to be one of his secret admirers in disguise.
And what's even worse, Sana doesn't even know that there's one more person who is impatient to fall in line just to snatch YN's heart from everybody else who wanted it, and that is none other than Mina herself.
She tried to hold it in for months, but with how many times she encountered that almost sucked the soul out of her with the tiny possibility remaining to complete for others to win over YN, she has now on her breaking point.
Every day and night passes, her craving, her longing, her desperation is going stronger and higher, and Mina felt like she'll gone out of her mind if she wouldn't do anything about it.
Just like today, it seems like Sana is going for the final blow to attract YN and possibly the worst case scenario might happen, and that is the confession part where Mina doesn't want to witness or hear it to happen.
She doesn't fall in the line, she made the line and she's the most deserving out of them all.
That why it came to this moment that Mina finally pronounces something that will guarantee her victory, a fight where she doesn't have to lose.
She doesn't give a damn if they want YN's love, she's the one who needs it the most.
"I'm going to make you mine, YN. Not even that flirty bitch or anyone could take you from me. We'll go blood for blood just for them to dare." Mina snarled with annoyance and a poisonous glare at the two. "We're going to be together, because we have to and I love you."
Mina first met YN when he brought his childhood bestfriend Sana to their group after Sana found out that her car isn't working properly. He got introduced to the group and with his kind-hearted and humorous personality, he managed to build a strong closeness with the girls.
Until that closeness turns into attraction for one of them aside from Sana.
YN was closest to the J-Line because he is Japanese, and even though he knows Sana a lot, he tried to spend time with Mina and Momo, and Mina was the one he focused more onto.
To be honest, Momo's personality was already fine but there's something that YN observed on Mina that made him check up on her all the time. She is mostly quiet, soft, and meek because of her introvert and elegant attribute, and YN always make sure that whenever he's hanging along with the girls, he wanted to feel that Mina always belongs to them to have fun.
Until suddenly, that fun had Mina searching for all the time, and she became selective only for him.
Mina's fond over YN grew from time to time. There has been instances where she would just start to look for YN, mention him, miss him, hear him. Just everything to feel his presence.
And that, turned Mina's obsession over YN inside out.
Her infatuation bloomed into an excessive devotion fueled by interest where she felt like not having any trace or signs of YN on her would have her less enthusiastic and stable.
The first time she did something very strange was back when Mina sat on YN's chair and muzzled her face around the cushion to inhale every scent he left there.
It leveled up to her stalking him wherever he go, memorizing the directions and time he appears and departs. She also tried to snatch and collect straws and cups that he used, wiping it around his lips then compressing it like as if she's engaging a make out with him.
Until it developed into something that easily malfunctions and thrives her horniness and perverted minds. She had many prints of her pictures with him and to aid her thirst for YN, she even bought a dildo for the first time and imagine it as his dick impaling her pussy by riding it while staring at YN's printed face on the pillow.
And now that she always gets to caught numerous almost close calls of Sana and other girls trying to take her away from her, it prompted her to finally step away from the shadows and make her move that will not require any further attempts.
YN is hers and hers only.
As Sana went to the bathroom for a break, Mina came up to YN who is watching their other friends dancing to the floor while sipping on his wine.
"How's the night so far?" Mina talked to him and laid her hands on his shoulder.
"Doing good, but I starting to feel sleepy." YN chuckled. "I mean, I did everything I wanted now here, and now I don't know what else to do than empty these drinks and foods I have."
"Shall we get out of here and you know..." Mina started to move her hand, caressing his shoulder while it slowly lowers through his left pec. "Find something entertaining, make ourselves have some fun~"
She slightly presses her body, her breasts almost pushes through his arm. Her voice starts to become rougher and closer to his ears, making YN blush and feel a bit tensed up.
"I feel a bit bored now. My phone is now out, I hate that I forgot my powerbank."
"You wanted to play games, huh."
"Yeah, and I would really love to do it only with you, if you don't mind~", Mina smirked and squeezed her embrace on his side.
"You're lucky, I can feel my inner gamer loading up-"
"Hey guys!" Sana interrupted their conversation after returning from the bathroom. Mina cursed under her breath and her grip tightened on YN. "Sorry I had to take a break, YN."
"No it's fine, I had to say goodbye to everyone now anyway." YN chuckled. "I'm now tired and done for the night."
"Awwww already?" Sana pouted. "You can join us for one more-"
"Uhm, I think I'll be off now too, Sana." Mina cuts her out. She doesn't want his man to get anything involved with them until they get drunk. Their time is up and her turn is now. "I have low alcohol tolerance and I still have to visit my dad on the hospital tomorrow. Gotta sleep early."
"Not you too, Mina?!" Sana whined. Mina found it adorable but deep inside she's smirking mockingly at her for not being able to get through their zone anymore. "Okay, if that so then let's just catch up at the next party." Sana shrugged. "Be safe on your way home okay?
Mina just nodded and elicited a fake smile while YN smiled. He got surprised when Sana quickly hugged him tight and Mina sweared that she's doing her best at all to control herself from grabbing her arm and slamming her through the table.
"Say our goodbyes to the girls, okay?" YN said to Sana who gave her a cheeky smile while raising her thumbs up.
"Cmon, let's go." Mina swiftly tugs his hands and wrapped it around with hers. She hoped he wouldn't noticed her arms twitching at how good it feels to touch his soft skin.
As they exit the building, she halted and proposed an invitation to him. "Wanna go play with me at my place? I have a newly bought God of War: Ragnarok that I haven't been able to try yet."
"Wait what?! You already got it?!" YN reacted in awe. She knew he'll go hysterical since that is his favorite video game of all time. "No way, we better do it right now. Let's go!"
Mina escorted YN to enter her car and they drove straight to her mansion. They greeted the guard before he opened the gates for them. As Mina parked the car on her garage, they entered the mansion and YN was astounded at how great and rich Mina's family are.
"This is your first time here, right?"
"Yeah, and wow it does feels awesome and honored to be here." YN said as he travelled his eyes around here. "It's like stepping in here should be a priviledge because you'll never get an easy chance to experience this."
"Don't worry, you can stay here as much as you like. Treat this as your home now." Mina said as she walked through the kitchen before eyeing a sinister smirk on him who is still busy checking out the decorations around the place, too oblivious to notice the double meaning on her words.
She walked out of the kitchen with a bottle of alcohol and some cups with her. "Just thought of something to make this even more fun. Shall we do a drunk gameplay?"
"But you said you have to visit-"
"I lied." Mina said sternly. "I did that to make myself more convincing, so don't worry about me because I want us to spend more time together. I want to stay with you alone for now so don't go, please?"
YN nodded and smiled. "Sure. If that's what you want Mina, I'll be joining you."
Mina giggled and felt overwhelmed at his words. "Cmon, let's head upstairs."
They climbed and reached the second floor where Mina's guest room at. YN opened to room in assistance since Mina has her hands full with bottle and glass and they entered at Mina's private space.
Mina slightly got anxious when they passed her bedroom because little does YN know what would greet him once he saw what's in store there.
"I'll be right back, I'm going to get it." Mina said as she dashed through her forbidden area and hurriedly grabbed the cd and controllers.
As she heads back to the room, she found YN conversing through the phone. The call was in speaker and she heard Sana's voice that made her a bit fumed up.
"Yeah, I already got home. Thank you for asking, Sana." He said before bouncing his eyebrows on Mina who remained silent and just walked behind at him.
"Ohwww okayyy, gowd nightt okayyy, sleep and dream ahbout mewh, i- i lhove youuu!" Sana said with a husky, blabberish tone behind the call. YN was shocked to hear the last words she said to him while Mina... well she didn't took it that well at all.
She was about to pop off the cap on the bottle she heard Sana's "I love you" to him. Something just cracked open inside her mind and all she knew after is that she couldn't control herself anymore. She's moving away from her sanity now.
"W-wait, Sana are you drunk? You should go home now. It's already late." YN said, stuttering and made a chuckle as he is still processing what Sana just told him.
Mina on the other hand, placed the alcohol back on the table and went through her cabinet to open a drawer. She grabbed a bottle of viagra and aphrodisiac that she bought just in case the perfect has come where she will need it, and that finally happened tonight. She smashed it into pieces before mixing both of it to his drink and hers.
YN couldn't understand what Sana is saying now so he bid goodbye and wished her well before dropping the call. "Sorry, Mina I didn't know that she'll-"
"Scratch it. I know. Let me just set up the game." Mina didn't want to hear it no more.
She starts to set things up until they are now allowed and ready to play. "Every minutes, we'll drink. Okay?"
"Noted."
As they started the game, Mina was quite hesitant at that rule because she couldn't endure longer the need and the crave increasing through her insides. Throughout the game she starts to rub her thighs and feel her panties getting soaked with her juices. She stares at the TV while biting her lip just to avoid moaning early.
The timer beeped for 10 minutes and finally Mina released a long sigh before beaming broadly in excitement. "Time to take a shot."
They both hold the cup and they faced at each other. Mina eyed YN and looked at his last innocence for tonight before they counted the three and simulteanously gulped all the drink. They both exhaled a refreshed huff before continuing to play the game.
7 minutes has only passed and they haven't been reached the next turn to drink but both of them can feel the effects now. While YN is playing, Mina started to became handsy on him, touching him all around his body and teasing his crotch by tapping his thighs and pretend to press his fists on it while she cuddled herself beside her.
Mina then balled her fists and cupped YN where she was shocked and impressed to discover how huge and heavy it felt around her touch. YN started to sigh heavily and look down on Mina's playful hand as his eyes starts to get cloudy.
"M-Mina, stop... i'm getting distracted." YN said between his sighs but Mina didn't listen.
"Ssshhh... just focus on playing. Don't fight it, you'll want it soon." Mina whispered in his ear before she bit his earlobe and licked the side of his neck and sucked on his skin to leave enough hickeys.
Mina's massage over his crotch became even more relaxing and enticing. "F-fuck.. w-what are you doing to me, Mina?"
"It's okay, baby~" Mina said as she peppers his cheek with kisses. Nobody could interrupt us, it's just and me... so get naughty if you want..."
YN has finally snapped and his stability has completely covered by the drugs he didn't knew he intake. Mina rotated his head and they went on for a sloppy kiss. YN's hand crawled through the back of her head where she pulled her face closer to his, their french kiss became even more rougher where their nose and their faces starts to rub altogether.
Mina took her place and bent down on YN's lap, where they resumed their kiss. He got to his feet, backed away, and grabbed Mina by the underside of her thighs, cradling her around his body.
They collapsed on the bed together where they had their freedom to make out as much as the drugs consuming their conscience could take. Mina removed his clothes and fiercely showered his body starting from his neck, to his chest down to his abs with licks and kisses.
Mina unbuckled his belt and dragged his pants and boxers down to expose his hardened cock already leaking with impressive amount of pre-cum, a proof that the drugs effectively had YN lusting as much as Mina would want him to feel as hers.
"I- I don't know what's happening to me, but Mina is making me feel good..." YN tries to shake his head but the substances are too strong for him to fight for control.
He surrendered on being overpowered and now he had to just watch Mina quickly stripping her dress, leaving her on her black lingerie with thigh-length stockings and suspenders. She slowly crawled to his legs and stared at him with pure seduction her hand slid through the base of his cock to grip while the other went on to cup his heavy full testicles.
"You don't know how much I've been wanting to taste you, YN. I'm glad I'm going to be the first one to do this, and no one will come after that... because this cock is only mine for me to devour." Mina said through her slow pumpings on his cock before starting to drag her tongue through the length of his shaft.
"Fuccckkk mhmph~" YN moaned as Mina circled the tip of his cock head, creating a tickling yet satisfying sensation. Her hand also began to massage her balls as she placed her cock inside her mouth to suck him off.
Mina's loud gargles and chokes around his cock adds an unbelievable sensation to YN. She tried to press his cock through her throat where her face is now almost touching his crotch. Her eyes starts to get watery until more than 10 seconds she released and went pumping on his dick.
She stood up for a while to remove her black panties before laying down on top of him in reverse, her legs wide open flailed each beside YN's head and for him to witness her dripping wet pussy presented to him in full clarity while her head is now beside her erected cock.
Mina tilted her head to direct his length back into his mouth to suck him off, poking her cheek enough to create a bulge while YN began to play with her clit and flicker his tongue around her walls.
They continue to taste each other until they reached their peak, with YN cumming first by spurting a big load on Mina's mouth, with the rest spilling on her face due to the excessive amount to contain before she followed by squirting her juices around YN's face.
YN opened his mouth to savor Mina's sweet nectar before both humping on their breaths to ride out their post orgasms and release their pleasure.
Mina rolled away from the top of YN's body to straddle him on his lap. She grinded her pussy back and forth on his cock before inserting it inside, creating a loud moan from her.
She started to bounce, fucking her tight cunt on her cock before YN joins her in sync by gripping her waist and starts drilling her upwards, causing Mina to scream and shriek.
The claps became louder and Mina's head rolled up at the intensity of the fucking YN is giving him. This is it, this is the exact feeling that Mina used to imagine having with YN and now, her fantasies has been fulfilled to end her long curiousity and anticipation.
"OHHH YESSS FUCK FUCK FUCK THAT'S IT YN MNGGGHHH HARDER! POUND ME FASTER AND DON'T STOP!!!" Mina cursed and murmured unknown words into his shrinking breath. She started to roll her hips to add more rhythm on YN's cock impaling her walls.
YN pulled her arm to press her upper body on her chest. They kissed again before Mina lets go to release a deep moan as she felt the bed creaking and her body bouncing at the full force of his cock drilling upwards to her abused pussy.
"I'M GONNA CUM I'M GONNA CUM DON'T STOP!" Mina's eyes starts to roll as her pupils were almost absent. Her mouth gaped open, spilling her tongue that is now savoring the heavenly pleasure of his girthy meat ramming through her womb.
"ME TOO! FUCK, NO I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!"
"FILL ME UP, I BEG YOU!"
With last strong thrusts remaining, YN and Mina came together, their own fluid mixed and bursted at the same time to intensify the sensation. YN carefully raised Mina up to slide off his slimy cock out of her dripping pussy.
He turned around and grabbed a handful of her perky tits to suck on them one by one. His gnawing and suckle on her nipples were strong and shallow which made Mina whimper in pleasure.
She turned her body to the side and YN raised one of her leg to the air. He rubbed his cock through her soaked lips before inserting it back again, and he didn't went too soft on Mina as he got way rough again on her treatment to the highly obsessed and sex-driven woman.
"ANNGGGHHH YES YES OH IT FEELS SO BETTER, OOOH FUCK I LOVE YOUR THICK COCK SO MUCH YN YEAHHHH UGHHH~ Mina said as she spammed praises again straight to YN's face before giving her again another kiss to shut her up and focus on the wild action they're having on her bed.
YN gets up and lifted Mina with him, not taking out his cock to switch positions. Mina balanced himself on fours and arched her back to raise her huge appetizing ass.
YN thunderously slapped it and takes off his cock for a while to bury his face on his and add stimulation on Mina's puckered hole before reinserting and proceeding to pound Mina just as harder as she wants.
Due to the combination of the viagra and aphrodisiacs they swallowed, the effects of it became multiple for them to go on lengthy fucking sessions for hours, almost emptying the night by trying many different positions.
They fucked on the window with Mina pressed on the glass, exposing theirselves to the outside world where many of the people in the neighborhood are asleep and unable to view to sinful act they're committing.
Mina was even taken through the wall, sandwiched by YN's body while hammering her pussy from below and kneading on her pair of tits bouncing hypnotizingly.
Then they went on a stand and deliver just beside the cabinet for Mina to hold on to, with his cock now demolishing her plump ass before he filled it up with another load of hot creamy cum.
Their wild night was so active, heated and intense that Mina slept through the dawn filled with cum on her holes and some scattered around his body. She looked at YN who is now asleep beside him, she kissed her on the head and grinned in lust and satisfaction for the last time before she succumb into slumber.
The morning arrived, YN woke up groggily and horrifyingly found himself naked on Mina's bed. As he sat up, he saw Mina appearing at the door, with a radiant smile on her face.
"YN! You're awake!" Mina lunges onto him and she showered him again with kisses while hugging her. YN became irritated and pushed her away, dropping her on the floor.
"W-what is this, Mina? What did you do to me, WHY AM I NAKED IN YOUR HOUSE?!", he panickedly asked the suspect.
"Oh, yeah. The after effects of the viagra and the aphrosidiac I put onto your drink are now gone so you couldn't remember." Mina sighed and shook her head in dismay.
"WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT THAT I DON'T REMEMBER?"
"I know, I know it's sad that you don't remember, you would've recall how much we had fun last night." Mina giggled as she slowly stood up.
"What the fuck? D-did I... no, no way." YN denied his guess. "No, I couldn't remember anything now after we played, y-you... drugged me Mina..."
His voice shifted into disbelief and he placed his hands beside her head, his fingers clawing on his hair. "Oh my god... w-what did you do to me, Mina? ARE YOU INSANE?!"
Mina just laughed at his agony. "You were the one who made me like this, I just did what I have to do, YN. You keep on involving yourself with Sana too much, how could you be so dumb that she likes you!"
"And what does it matter to you?"
"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, YN!" Mina confessed. YN just stared at her in surprise. "I COULDN'T STAND SEEING THAT SLUT OR OTHER GIRLS LAYING THEIR HANDS ON YOU. YOU SHOULD BE MINE! I HAVE TO MAKE YOU MY PROPERTY BECAUSE I-IF I DON'T... WHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO ME?! I... I COULDN'T LIVE IN PEACE WITHOUT HAVING YOU NEAR ME."
Mina kneeled in front of him and looked at him with pleading eyes. "That's why I did what I had to do last night. If I claim you, no one would have the rights to steal what's mine. I get what I deserve to have, you're the one I pick YN! Nothing would stop me and not even you to say that you don't want to be with me."
"You have to love me, YN. I can give you everything you want. This place, it could be your home. We'll turn this into a happy house of balloons, and we'll always gonna have fun as much as you want!" She said as she crazily giggled with her tears flowing through her eyes.
"No... fuck this. You're out of your mind, Mina. I'm leaving." YN quickly stood up and snatched all of his clothes on the floor as he left Mina alone in the room.
Mina's expression changed from odd into a complete unhinged seriousness. She slowly stood up and took out something from her pocket.
YN was about to dress up on his boxers when he noticed something at first before feeling a sudden tingling cursed through his body.
"OH... AGH SHIT!" He shivered and turned to look at the eyes of Mina wearing an unrecognizable face while pressing something like a remote on her hands.
She activated the cock ring she placed in his cock to the full volume after she woke up to make her avoid escaping in case he attempts to, and she called exactly what's going to happen.
YN's moaning goes louder as he witnessed his cock now leaking already with pre-cum. "S-STOP... PLEASE!"
Mina stopped pressing the remote and walked at him. She stomped on his crotch, making the exhausted YN unable to move more.
"You're in my world now, YN. Whether you like it or not, you're staying with me. You belong to me now and nobody else's." Mina intimidatingly declared. "No matter how your mind wants to leave, you can't go and I will never let you go. We will be together forever from now on, do you understand?"
YN started to tear up at the sight of this new darker side of Mina he never thought he would be introduced into. "W-why are you doing this to me?"
"Because I love you, and you will learn someday that loving me too is the best decision you'll ever have." Mina cupped his cheeks and pinched on it. "By the way, the breakfast's ready. Don't you dare do something stupid or else, I'll punish you. Understand?"
"Y-yes..."
"Good. For now, let me get my own protein to start this morning." Mina smirked and cackled as she jerked his cock again with her fist again and also through tugging the cock ring back and forth with her fingers.
YN had to endure letting Mina edging his cock for minutes until she decided to release his cum on her glass, tapping her reddened cock head on it and slurping it with her warm mouth to ensure not even a drop would get wasted. YN then disgustingly watched Mina drink his cum through the glass like it's a milk.
YN has been imprisoned by Mina's so-called paradise for 2 months. He tried many attempts to escape and nothing worked. Instead, he just got caught by Mina repeatedly and in result, he had to suffer on the consequences.
When YN got caught by Mina looking for some keys in her room, his hands were smashed by a screwdriver 20 times then commanded him to finger her pussy until she cums.
He even tried to peek from some of the windows and shout for help, and Mina blocked all of his sense of sight and ability to speak later that night by muffing him with a scarf and tying his arms on each side of the bed, where Mina would play all over his body and drain his energy afterwards.
Due to that incident, Mina also began placing more cameras around the house to keep a closer look on him. That didn't made YN to stop though as his desperation for freedom still motivates him to keep on looking for other ways.
He attempted to look for his phones but all of it are gone. Even he pleaded at the guard to let him borrow his own but the guard refused for his own sake, stating that if Mina finds out he might get punished and fired for the only job that's keeping him on living.
The more security devices Mina keep on placing around the house as days passes unfortunately made YN to began losing hope on escaping this hell hole. Even his chances for Mina to change her heart for him already ran out, as he has now finally accepted that this isn't the same Mina he once met.
He became Mina's personal slave, pet and a fucktoy, not being able to let him rest even for a day.
Through every corner of the house, Mina would find a way to force him provide the pleasure she seeks by having sex with her through multiple angles and tasks. Doggy at the shower, blowjob while washing dishes, rimming while in laundry or even a 69 during massage.
On the other hand, the girls began to suspect something strange on the disappearance of YN, especially Sana. They all know that Mina was the last person YN has been with, and Sana is monitoring Mina since she have this weird gut that Mina is hiding something from them.
And she was right. One day while she tried to visit Mina's house, the guard didn't let him in. Instead she took a photo of the mansion and informed it to the girls. Dahyun who has a sharp locating skills, found something shocking.
"Unnie, did you notice this?" Dahyun sent a message to Sana before replying it with a cropped photo.
Sana stared at it for a second before her mind processed a frightening revelation.
"Isn't this oppa?"
Dahyun discovered a blurred reflection of YN's face screaming at the window.
1 year later, YN visited a psychiatric hospital in Seoul. After meeting a doctor in his office, they walked through the hallway and passed through some nurses, patients and guests to reach the visitation room.
The doctor returned and this time, he brought the person YN came for has entered the room on the opposite side behind the glass.
Mina is wearing a white patient attire with handcuffs removed on her hands for a while. She was arrested when her former friends reported her crime and was sent through at herapy when they discovered that Mina has been diagnozed with psychological and mental disorder.
Her eyes widened at the sight of YN looking at him with poker face.
She remained silent and lowered her head in guilt and shame for more than a minute before YN cuts it off to avoid wasting time.
"How are you?"
Mina was shocked to hear him checking up on her. "W-Why did you come here?"
"Just answer my question." He remained deadpanned.
She gulped and nodded. "I'm fine."
"Good, I guess." He struggled on looking for other words to say to her but Mina went different than him.
"I'm sorry."
He looked at Mina staring at him awfully. "For everything that I've done to you. I know it's not enough for me to redeem my sins but I just want to apologize to you because you deserve it."
"A year has passed Mina, but I had to admit that I'm still trying to recover from what you did to me." YN said to her. "It was a nightmare that always keep me up at night. You scarred my life, took my virginity away without consent, y-you... you violated me, Mina."
His tears started to drop on his cheek. Mina's heart shattered at the aftermath of what she had done. "For the first time in my life, I've never felt so frightened and worried for my state, not even I would expect from the one I admire."
"W-what?" Mina muttered at the phone. She leaned her head closer. "What did you just said?"
"It's true, I did loved you, Mina. It was always you, but I don't think I could tell the same anymore after what you did to me."
"You didn't know, and sometimes I have this guilt and regret with these what ifs of my mind that... if I confessed to you earlier, would you not turn out into someone I never wanted you to be?" YN continued.
Mina started to sob in devastation. She buried her face in embarrassment as she cried harder, hearing all the confession and scolding from the man she thought she would never had a chance at, that's why she did the unthinkable.
Little did she knew that she was actually winning already right from the start. She was the one YN already prefer the moment he met her and how his fond for her developed.
"I should've been patient. Oh God, I'm so sorry..." Mina said. "I could've waited for you, but I never did. I became so desperate, selfish, obsessive, and too greedy on you that I let myself gone crazy when I thought I would be losing you."
"I love you, YN and I meant that... but I understand now that you won't feel the same for me anymore. You don't deserve a psychopath who will make your life a living hell and traumatize you in any ways possible."
YN now felt a glimpse of pity and distress for Mina. The girl just became too attached and mentally unstable caused by the power of love she received that she couldn't contain, and now she fell in victim for it.
This is why he couldn't help but to blame himself believing he has also have a fault that if he didn't became too coward on his feelings, he could've saved Mina and immediately introduce her the adoration she was hoping to receive from him.
"Did I made you scared?"
"Always." Mina whispered. "I was always alone, my parents always abandon me in our house, I know I have my friends with me but... there's something that you did to me. You're the one who cures my loneliness. I thought that if there was a chance that I could make you love me back, you will stay with me all time like you always do and we'll grow together until the end. "
"And I could've done it to you without hesitation, Mina." YN disappointingly stated. His face twitched as another stream of tears escaped in his eyes. "I forgive you, but I will never condone what you did to me. Goodbye, Mina."
Mina smiled at his remark before he stood from his seat. About to walk away, Mina shouted his name for the last time.
"YN!"
He looked back.
"Thank you and don't desert yourself in love because of me, please. Sana likes you, she'll need you and I think you're better off with her. Atleast for her, she could make you happy unlike me who couldn't give it to you in return."
He slightly smiled and remembered that reminder. "I'll ask her later."
He walks out of the room just as the time runs out for his visit. Mina surrendered herself to the doctor and to the police who handcuffed and escorted her out.
Mina carried a mix of lingering sorrow and relief, realizing that her mistake cost her to manifest her fears in full reality, that she'll be alone forever but what mattered more for her now is that she'll continue living knowing that YN is now is in good hands.
#twice mina#twice#myoui mina#yandere#twice smut#kpop smut#twice mina smut#mina smut#twice mina x m reader#twice mina x male reader#twice x m reader#twice x male reader#twice au#twice oneshot#kpop au#kpop one shot
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Yandere! Actor Wally, please...
possessive actor!wally/reader hcs
(actor wally and his au was made by @/frillsand on tumblr! go support their work!)
REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!
CW// POSSESSIVE THEMES
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of course, like any other version of him, this one would be very cautious and closed off at first. he wouldn’t share much with you and if he does it’s brief, but after you ‘prove yourself’ to him he immediately becomes attached to you. he's absolutely stuck by you. you're just his assistant but he falls hard. harder than he ever has.
seeing as how you’re the first person to ever see him for who he is, he lets you get away…with a lot. it’s all bias of course, and you may not even use it but you start to notice that your small mistakes barely go noticed. he doesn't even allow anyone else to scold you either. you can tell that his patience is still thin, however.
he values your time with him. in his downtime he’s hellbent on spending time with you and you only, even if this means dragging you along on subtly planned ‘lunch breaks’ with him. (these are dates) or calling you for petty tasks he could have easily done himself just to see you.
he likes spoiling you, and that becomes very obvious very fast. he loves it when you tell him ‘thank you’ for buying you lunch or getting you coffee. he goes from sending you in to get these things for him to go in with you, bringing his bodyguards along.
you take up so much of his mind he starts to stumble in rehearsal. this actually frustrates him at first. he takes his frustration out on you a tad before finally cooling down.
practically demands all of your attention. he goes to you for just about everything. input, script reading, any excuse to see you. any excuse to get closer. he hates the fact that you two have such a professional relationship and wants to be more, even if that means breaking a few rules. it's not like you're a fan, you're his assistant. no harm done.
ignores fanmail entirely. when you ask why he brushes it off the way he usually does. "why would i want a bunch of strangers telling me what i already know?". the truth is very different, however. he secretly wishes to be praised by you and you only.
speaking of, he may not show it but he soaks up any and all praise you give him and internalizes it almost immediately. no matter how small. he loves it when you compliment him.
it's hard to keep his cool when he sees you getting the same treatment from others, however. he silently watches from the corner, fuming. how dare they. until he can muster up the courage to fully compliment you himself, he glares daggers at people who do. repeat offenders get fired and blacklisted from acting entirely.
he is not above blackmail to get his way. not to you, no of course not! other people, however? free game. he has dirt on just about everyone. they don't even know.
even though he has a tendency of doing horrible things to get his way, he always tries to steer away from that entirely. he keeps trying to convince himself that he’s above that and he’s a changed man. unfortunately, you make that a bit hard with how many other people you seem to attract every other day.
appreciates your patience with him most of all. set aside the fact you're not weird about the fact that he's a puppet like most people, he loves your kind heart and wants to protect that, even if that means burning bridges to see more of you. he craves intimacy with you. he hates how weak you make him feel, but he can't help but let all of those walls come crumbling down when you're that nice to him.
isn't good with physical contact at first, so he sticks to small things: 'accidental' brushes against you, linking pinkies with you, shoving you along. he’s experimenting, give him time.
drags you along to rehearse his lines. he loves using his 'deadlines' as an excuse to get your help. he knows he could ask anyone else but why would he? you say yes every time anyway because that's how nice you are. he absolutely loves the scenes where he gets to subtly flirt with you. did the script call for improv? ssssh. doesn't matter. your red face makes it all worth it in the end.
is not above using the character he's playing mannerisms to get his way. he knows he's good at what he does, and he knows he's adorable. he uses this to his advantage, even incorporating past character's mannerisms into his own when he notices people stick to them. this includes you. if he notices you like a certain thing about a character he's playing he is quick to pick up on this and use that against you.
in the end, his end goal is for you to date, and maybe be something more in the future. he's willing to do whatever that takes, even if that means working on himself more just to make sure you're more comfortable with the idea of dating. has no issue with having a 'secret' relationship if that's what you want.
isn't much of a pet name person but he would call you 'hun' sarcastically at first but over time it would become a genuine pet name for him.
if you two do something together then expect that to be something you two do together. he would get upset at people who try and 'butt in' in the things you two do together. those things are for you two and you two only. certified gatekeeper.
author’s note ⊹˚. ♡
funny thing! i actually got two requests to do this guy!
it was a bit hard to do seeing as how i don’t really know much about the au, but thank you for requesting it anyway! (both of you LMFAO). i have a few more planned, and two more requests to do. i’m still working on my reboot wally/reader fic so if i seem a bit slow that’s why. please be patient. i already have the outlines and things like that made for the requests i’ve gotten.
thanks for the request, neighbor!
#welcome home au#welcome home#wally darling#wally please i have a family#welcome home fanfic#i love wally#possessive wally darling#yandere wally darling headcanons#yandere wally x reader#actor wally au#actor wally darling#welcome home wally#wally darling headcanons#yandere wally darling#yandere welcome home
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Mirror, Mirror | Two
Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
PART ONE
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.
Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.
*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*
Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~4.5k
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This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?
The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be.
There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?
Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot.
"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.
"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."
"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long.
"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.
"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"
Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."
"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."
"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.
"But—"
"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"
"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"
Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself.
"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."
"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all!
There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."
And another realization slides into place.
"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word.
Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.
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"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"
Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather.
"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."
"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."
You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."
Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end.
Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present.
The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month.
The extra time was sorely appreciated.
In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times.
There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?
Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?
In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years.
Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings.
Probably.
Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing.
Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.
"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it.
The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them.
It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.
It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping.
Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically.
Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again.
It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day.
"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head.
"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.
"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it.
"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.
When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese.
While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her.
So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table.
Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath.
"Hi."
The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either.
Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.
"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable.
You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"
"Okay," Wanda replied warily.
"Do you practice witchcraft?"
The question stumped Wanda.
"What?"
"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious.
"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"
"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."
Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her.
"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"
Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang.
"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."
Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old.
After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda.
Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship.
You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened.
Your parents divorced.
Wanda's mother passed away from cancer.
You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after.
You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care.
Wanda started to date Vision.
Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her.
You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it.
Wanda's first break-up with Vision.
You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott.
When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you.
Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.
"I'm home!"
Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.
When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.
"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.
"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."
You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly.
"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"
"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."
"Homesickness?"
"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."
"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"
Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."
"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."
Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence.
This was everything, Wanda thought.
Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone.
"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."
Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.
"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"
"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."
"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."
"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."
Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake.
The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start.
Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally.
"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."
Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation.
"THEY WOULD NEVER—"
"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."
"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"
"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."
The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts.
"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.
"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."
"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."
"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible."
"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."
"That's not true," Wanda protests.
"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."
"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."
"But—"
"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down.
"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.
And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance.
"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.
"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."
"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.
"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."
Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you.
There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here.
How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?
Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.
The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.
"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.
You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.
It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking.
Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.
And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment.
Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"
"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda.
"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing.
"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."
Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"
"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself.
The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it.
Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder.
Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it.
Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself.
Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.
Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth.
As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.
It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge.
After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.
Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving.
"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"
Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."
"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer.
"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.
"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date."
"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up.
"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."
Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.
Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all.
PART THREE
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff x y/n#avengers imagine#scarlet witch imagine#scarlet witch x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#modern avengers au#Elizabeth olsen x reader#mm: my fics
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Syrupy Sweet: Nasty Baker! Soap x Reader
tumblr deleted the orgininal for whatever reason. Luckily I tracked down a reblog. Edited and added some new stuff (love tumblr for deleting my most popular post, rip my 600+ notes 😔)
NSFW 18+
Soap is forced into an early retirement. He gets a job at a small bakery. And that's where he meets you
➔ gn!afab!reader (described as having boobs & wearing a bra), creepy soap, pervy soap, obsessive soap, lust at first sight, non/dub-con cum eating, dirty thoughts, fantasizing, humping inanimate objects, coming in panta
After so many years working in the military, serving his country. Protecting the people of the world from danger. The last thing Soap expected waas tyo be discharged so suddenly and with so little warning.
Too much time working with explosives has affected his hearing. A bad knife wound, or a torn Achilles tendon. A bad break that never healed right. A couple of head injuries too many.
"An early retirement," they'd called it. Forced retirement more like it. They won't even tell him why, just that he's, "no longer fit for active duty," and that he should be grateful that they, "got him such a nice deal. That he gets to keep his pension."
He’s bitter about it, understandably, He likes his job. He’s good at it. They can’t be serious about this! His performance hasn’t been hindered.
Regardless of the reason, in spite of his arguments, Soap is benched, permanently. Price is apologetic, Ghost is... Distant, though that's to be expected. Gaz promises to keep in touch. And he does keep in touch, they all do.
But it’s ot the same. Soap still feels lonely. Bored. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or all the time he suddenly has on his hands. Doesn’t know how to operate without the adrenaline rush, without something to occupy his hands and minds. He figures that, maybe, he should get a job. A civilian job. Not one of those cushy desk jocky jobs Price had offered him out of pity, Soap wants a job far removed from the military. Really reintegrate himself into normal, civvie life.
After a bit of searching along the drizzly cobbled Glasgowian streets, Soap finds a little coffee shop and bakery nearby. A tiny, quaint little thing, run by a sweet old woman who just doesn't have the energy to keep the doors open on her own.
The place is situated on a street corner, tucked away from the busy traffic-filled streets. A soft bell jingles when the door opens. The sign is hsand painted. The place, though clearly aged, is well looked after, loved. The wood floors and counters shine; the tables and chairs, though antique, are comfortable, well made; plants hang from the ceiling; and a couple bookshelves line a wall, a leave a book take a book community library.
Soap applies for the position and despite his lack of experience, he gets the job. Something about him reminding the old woman of her own son.
At first, Soap worked there with her. Learning the ins and outs of the trade. How to make meringue and bread and macrons and creme brûlé. It's not easy, not at first, but with practice and time, he gets the hang of it.
He figures it's because of his experience with explosives and chemistry. Baking is... Kind of the same thing.
Eventually, he's left to tend to the day-to-day affairs of the bakery. The woman still writes all the recipes and makes some of the breads. But he's the one managing the front of the house.
It's where he meets you.
Sweet. Kind. Polite. Breathtaking. Irresistible. Sexy. You.
You come tumbling into the warm bakery on a day when the weather is particularly bad, even for Scotland. Strong winds, cold rains threatening to turn to hail, thunder rumbling in the distance.
You're soaked to the bone. Hair dripping. Shoes leaving puddles in your wake as each of your steps is announced by a wet squish. Your full cheeks bitten by the cold, fingertips numb, you offer him a blinding smile.
He's more focused on your tits though. And your bra. Visible through your thin, now see-through, shirt. Black lace. He can see how your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. He can even see a small mole, or maybe a birthmark, on the swell just above the cup of your bra. He wants to sink his teeth into you. Wants to suck that mark into his mouth, chew and lick at it, make it bigger. Make it his. Make you his.
He's drooling a little, he realizes absently.
"Hey," you say softly, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. Hands curled into adorable little sweater paws as you try to wipe your wet hands off on your equally wet pants.
Soap just stares at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Shell shocked. He... He’s never... You’re so... He... Holy fuck.
Eventually, he clears his throat and manages a smile, stepping a bit closer to the counter so he can hide the growing tent in his pants. He forces himself to meet your eyes, rather than stare at your chest.
But they’re staring at me, his innermost thoughts whine, wanton and airy in his mind. So desperate for attention... for love... ready to be suckled and bit and groped and pinched...
Johnny leans forward, elbows resting on the counter and chuckles, flashing you an easy, charming smile. "Hey... Looking for something to warm you up?"
Please say you've already found what you're looking for. Please say you want him to warm you up. With his hands. His mouth. His cock. Please say–
"Yeah... Do you guys do hot chocolates?"
"It's not on the menu, but I've got my own stash in the back," he says as he looks you up and down. But how could you blame him? What with your... everything! This is your fault, honestly. Dirty, dirty, little thing, wearing a white shirt in the rain. You know what you’re doing. Something sinister and heated bubbles in his gut. A thick, molten, syrupy desire, a primal need. A sort of instinctive pull, a fish lured in by the soft glow of an angler fish. A moth to a flame. Helpless but to stare, slack jawed, and fighting back drool, as you stare up at him expectantly, He smiles, his lips spreading further as he notices your flustered state, how you shift under his stare, biting your lip as he looks you up and down. Logically, it’s a nervous reaction. But, in Soap’s quickly spiraling mind, it’s a clean indicator that you want him too. "I'll make one, special for you, darling."
Your eyes sparkle, your smile tears the breath from his lungs. "Really? Oh my god, thank you."
Soap grabs a mug from the shelf and twirls it around his finger. He pulls up his sleeves, bunching them around his mid biceps. He flexes, purposefully, showing off the hard-earned muscles in his arms, the scars, the prominent veins, his big, strong hands. Hands that would look so perfect around your neck. Or holding your wrists. Or deep between your shaking legs reaching deep and good, far past anything you could reach on his own. He wonders if you’re a crier. He hopes that you are.
Soap notices the way your eyes fall to the newly exposed skin. The way your jaw drops a little. The way you close your mouth. The way you glance away before quickly looking back. The way your throat bobs when you swallow...
Holy shit.
He can give you something else to swallow if you'll let him. Please let him.
He rolls his hips against the counter and lets out a stuttering breath through his nose. His lips part. His tongue feels thick and leaden in his mouth.
A moan bubbles in his throat, he disguises it as a cough. "Can..." He swallows another noise as he shifts his stance, achingly cock pressed against the teeth of his zipper. He makes a show of dusting the counter off, acting like he's tossed something into the bin so he can adjust his pants. "Can I get you anything else?"
Your eyes, gorgeous eyes, scan the menu and the display. "A cinnamon bun?" You ask, pointing to the delicacy through the glass case. "Please and thank you."
"You're in luck," he says, rutting against the counter again, as quick and harsh as he can without drawing attention. A part of him thoough, a sick, twisted, part of him that quickly spreads his mind like a weed, corrupting and poisoning, wants you to notice. Wants you to catch him. To punish him. "Just made a fresh batch... I've just got to head back and ice them."
"Oh, I'm fine with one of them from the display, you don't need to trouble yourself."
Oh, and how sweet you are...
You keep chewing on your bottom lip. Part of him wants to stop you, tell you that that’s his job. Wants to bite your lips until they’re raw and swollen.
He's fucked. Well and truly fucked.
He smiles. You’re blissfully ignorant of the darkness lurking in his eyes. "No trouble at all... It's my pleasure."
And it is his pleasure. Very much so.
He comes out a bit later, a little out of breath. A little red in the face. A couple buttons undone on his shirt.
"Hot in there," he says with a smile, setting the mug and a cinnamon bun on the counter in front of you. He sets another little plate down, a doughnut. Chocolate frosting with a cream filling, the sticky white substance still pouring from the hole.
"I uh, I didn't order that," you say with a little, awkward laugh. "The doughnut."
"I know you didn't, sweet thing... It's a new recipe I've been trying out. Trying to get right... Mind telling me what you think? It's free of charge, promise."
"Oh," you blink, staring up at him with those wide eyes. God, how he wants to see those eyes watering. How he wants to see those eyes tearing up as you choke on his cock. How he wants to see you cry as he fucks you. You smile. "Thank you!"
You pay for your drink and dessert and blink up at him from under your lashes. Your smile turns shy as you chew your lip. Stop it. Stop it. You’re going to make him lose his mind. You have to know what you’re doing to him. You have to. "Keep the change."
He smiles. "Thanks."
You find a seat in the corner and settle in the corner with a book. Soap keeps an eye on you the whole time. Watches you as much as he can without attracting unwanted attention.
His cock throbs in his pants when he sees you take your first bite of the cinnamon roll. When you wipe at the icing with your thumb and lick it clean. He watches with delight as you eat and drink, rolling his hips against the counter in time with the bobbing of your throat as you swallow.
Soap watches you with rapt attention as you enjoy the desserts. His lips parted, jaw slack, drooling. He wonders if he could convince you to lick it away. He is so glad that he stopped by the office to record the security footage. He’s going to be watching this over and over and... Fuck!
With a final grind of his aching cock against the counter, his boxers are flooded with a wet, sticky warmth. He mourns it going to waste like that. His cum belongs in you. Your tight pussy, round ass, past your full lips.
"How was it?" He asks, breathless, when you return your dishes to the counter. He shifts his stance, hiding the wet spot in his pants. He's not embarrassed that he came in his pants just from watching how your throat moves as you swallow. At watching the way that you lave your tongue over your fingers, licking the thick glaze away with a spit-slicked tongue.
He just doesn't want to weird you out.
"It was amazing," you say. "I really liked the balance of the sweet with the salty... Sometimes the sugar is just... Too much."
"I agree," Soap says, breathless. He swallows a lump in his throat. "I agree."
You become a regular from then on. He always gets you freshly baked items, from the back. No matter how busy.
He's not supposed to alter the recipes. But he doubts the lady will mind that he made a change. All he did was put a little love into the recipes. A little bit of himself in the sour cream glaze.
Keep your eyes peeled for a part 1.5 involving what soap did in the back room!
Comments and reblogs help motivate!
Masterlist!
#call of duty#cod mwii#cod#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#x reader#dark fic#johnny soap mactavish#cod x reader#nastybaker!soap
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LET'S TALK ABOUT THE CHOICE LOKI WANTED TO GIVE MOBIUS
Thanks for the comment, @sunflowerdigs!
I am also in HUGE debt to @loki-us for the below gifs that I could not find anywhere in Tumblr's gif search system. Thank you, friend! So many of my metas would not be possible without your help and support!
The poetic irony is definitely the point and is the reason why the S2 finale is as painful as it is.
I've previously discussed how Mobius would 100% absolutely choose to be with Loki at the End of Time and his decision-making history that points to this as being in-character here.
I also reviewed Loki's decision-making here.
Now let's discuss the choice Loki desperately wanted to give Mobius:
gif credit: @loki-us
gif credit: @loki-us
gif credit: @loki-us
(Original gif set post here)
What I love about this scene with Sylvie is that it is a perfect example of narrative subtext at work. The emotional thrust behind Loki's words may be interpreted as either platonic or romantic. Ultimately, it doesn't matter (well, it does, but it's a minor detail) because the definitive meaning behind the subtext is what the TVA means to Loki and what he actually wants, which is getting Mobius back.
WHAT LOKI WANTS: TVA = FRIENDS = MOBIUS
Let's break down the scene:
Sylvie asks what Loki wants. Sylvie, we must remember, is a Loki. She knows how Loki thinks, how he hides his vulnerability, and how he lies to himself. This allows her to suss out what Loki has difficulty admitting. I absolutely adore Sylvie for this.
1.) To stop HWR. - wrong
2.) To save the TVA. - wrong but closer; why?
3.) To save "all this" - too broad
4.) To save his friends. - correct
Ergo, stopping HWR is a means to an end, as it was for Sylvie. Saving the TVA could feasibly "save all this" from HWR, but who or what does Loki mean when he says "all this"? He means the timelines, certainly, but why does he care about the timelines? Because if all timelinee are destroyed, Sylvie and the TVA are destroyed too. Who is at the TVA? Loki's friends. Who is Loki's first and best friend? Mobius.
Therefore:
TVA = Friends = Mobius
Now, this isn't to play down the importance of OB, Verity, and Casey, but the series has been very clear about which friendship is the most significant to Loki. S2E1 -S2E4 builds up Loki and Mobius's closeness for the explicit purpose of likewise building up the cost of Loki's sacrifice. Their separation in the finale would not have been given as much attention nor hurt as much if they didn't become close.
The editing here is very intentional. In screenwriting, we call this technique "off screen dialogue", which is denoted by the character's name followed by (o.s.), then their line of dialogue.
In example, the shooting script might say:
On Don's reaction.
LOKI
(o.s.)
It was more about what I wanted.
If this wasn't formatted as such in the original script, it was likely formatted as such in the shooting script, which is a highly detailed version of the script with notes on how each scene should be shot in production and edited in post. The same cinematic technique is used in S2E4, after the pie confrontation with Sylvie, in which Brad, off screen, says, "Aren't you gonna say anything?" The dialogue overlays Mobius's reaction shot before cutting to the scene with Brad and Dox.
THE CHOICE LOKI WANTED TO GIVE (BUT COULDN'T)
It is also no accident that Loki very pointedly talks about Mobius, what he thinks Mobius wants, and how Mobius should have a choice. In making his point, Loki shows that he is actually quite confident that Mobius would choose the TVA and therefore, HIM.
But perched! The TVA means Loki's friends! How can the TVA also mean Loki?
THE TVA ALSO = LOKI
Well ...
(Thank you so much for your marvelous gif set @riotinyellow)
After the Loom explodes, everyone is returned to their original timeline except Loki. What is significant but not often discussed is that Sylvie is returned to her 1982 Broxton, Oklahoma timeline. She did not remain at the TVA despite being a Loki herself. The subtext of this is that Sylvie associates the 1982 timeline as where she belongs, where she feels at home. If we parallel this subtext to Loki, this means the TVA is where Loki feels he belongs and thus, feels at home. He only begins to timeslip once he realizes the people he cares about aren't there. Notably, Loki unconsciously timeslips to Mobius the most. I have a meta on Loki's timeslipping here.
As people, we define ourselves not only by our past, our talents, our weaknesses, our interests, and our dislikes, we also define ourselves by our relationships (good and bad). The implication, therefore, is that TVA symbolically represents not only friendship and Mobius, it represents Loki, too.
The most painful part of Loki's argument, which is never communicated directly but is subtextually inferred, is that not only does Loki want Mobius to choose the TVA (him), he is confident that Mobius would choose the TVA (him). And why shouldn't Loki be confident? Mobius has been his most loyal friend. Mobius has never abandoned him even when he was angry with him.
This sets up the meaning behind the subtext of Mobius's departure from the TVA in the finale. Mobius insists the TVA provides him with meaning, that he likes it there, and that he is grateful for whoever took him and "gave [him] this pie" (interestingly, it is Loki who recruits Mobius first, gives him his name, and offers pie to help calm Mobius down).
EVERYONE'S CHOICE & MOBIUS LEAVING THE TVA
Once Loki is gone, however, Mobius only stays at the TVA long enough to ensure it's changed for good and has appropriate leadership. What's striking is that, with the exception of Mobius, all of Loki's friends, given the choice, chose to stay at the TVA. This answers the question Loki posed with Sylvie: How many of them would choose to stay?
Verity, OB, and Casey all have purpose. Mobius's purpose has always been Loki. That purpose evolved into friendship once he stopped Loki's "reset" and uncovered Ravonna's corruption. Just as TVA = Friends = Mobius for Loki, for Mobius, the TVA = Loki. When Loki is gone, so is Mobius's purpose, his place of belonging, his home. Mobius loses everything, including (platonically or romantically) someone he deeply loves.
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a ramble about arthur's relationship with dutch and hosea
haven't used tumblr in a while (let alone made an actual original post in who knows how long) but i can't stop thinking about that one interaction between dutch and arthur in lakay. specifically: "you sound like hosea." it breaks my heart, because dutch is right in saying that. as chapter six unfolds into the tragedy it is, arthur becomes more and more like hosea, and just like hosea, arthur tries and tries and fails to get dutch, stubborn and single-minded, to see reason.
one of my favourite journal entries, is where arthur says, "i love dutch like a father, but in many ways i love hosea more." arthur loved hosea. hosea saw arthur for who he was. knew arthur wasn't near as dumb as he liked to pretend he was. one of my favourite interactions between arthur and hosea is early on in chapter 3, very shortly after they get to clemens point. arthur walks by hosea sitting at a table, who calls out to arthur and asks what he thinks about dutch's plans. arthur's response is "you know me, i never did much thinking." to which which hosea says one of my favourite lines in the game, and it's a line that gives far more insight into arthur, hosea and their dynamic than you might first think.
dutch was arthur's father in a more abstract way. whether it was dutch's intention or not (and i believe, at the very least, it was later on), i always found his "you're like a son to me" comments to arthur to be very manipulative in nature, meant to reel arthur back in when he's concerned he's "getting away," so to speak. i have personal experience with men trying to get me on their good side by saying i'm like a kid to them, and maybe i'm projecting a little because of that, but the way dutch says that to arthur triggers the same alarm bells in my brain.
again: "i love dutch like a father, but in many ways, i love hosea more." say what you want, but hosea was arthur's true dad. he was his dad in all the ways that mattered. hosea knew arthur so well, he knew arthur was putting on "an angry moron act." in the video i linked, he sounds genuinely frustrated when he continues saying "but it's a thin enough veneer." he knows arthur is capable of more. is capable of being better, and i think hosea knew that things were doomed in the end, whether or not he would admit it.
arthur spent a lot of time, both early in the story and at the end, reflecting on what was happening, on himself, on the other gang members. i like to think he was unconsciously channeling hosea in chapter 6. honestly, the parallels are kind of painful. maybe that's, in part, why dutch was so adamant on not listening to arthur; because he reminded him, painfully, of hosea, his oldest and dearest friend. of course, that's not the only reason, but it makes sense, doesn't it? arthur is so much like hosea, and we see that more and more as the story progresses.
#of course i should mention that i wrote this with high honour arthur in mind as not only is that my preferred way of playing#i also perceive high honour arthur as the canon story#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#arthur morgan#hosea matthews#dutch van der linde#please feel free to add your own thoughts if you have any#i'd love to hear other people's opinions#this was just me wanting to get my thoughts out lol so apologies if it's not the most coherent
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List of things that point towards Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru being kissers of boys with connections to eachother
(If they did kiss though is another story)
Note: the list will be divided into different sections with space in between. So don't go speed scrolling through if you don't want spoilers. :"3
Some of these are less serious, but are still included because all the more content for these two sillies.
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Last updated: April 26th, 2024
Note: Make sure to check the original post if viewing a reblog version in case Tumblr does not update things under the "read more" like it used to be able to.
Various
572. This number is used frequently as a ship number for the two as "GoGe" the ship name can also be produced as "GoNatsu". Go means 5 and the rest sound similar to 72. These numbers ironically show up accross the series a few times and also in official merch. (Some examples being a clock in season 2 episode 1 stopped at 5 hours 7 minutes 20 seconds or a Gojo teddy bear priced at ¥57,200)
JJK official fanbook
"Q: Please tell us his first impression when he first met Geto.
A: Bangs."
"Q: He seems to be aware that he is handsome, but doesn't he want a lover?
A: I can't imagine Gojo being faithful to a particular woman."
"Q: Is there anything you are particular about Geto's character design?
A: Bangs"
One of Gojo's songs & one of Geto's songs given to them. "Shame on you" by "Avicii" (a break up song) for Gojo and "Come back Home" by "Two door cinema club" for Geto. Stated in volume 3 chapter 24.
The sheer amount of times Geto shows up in MMVs for Gojo and how they display the impact Geto had on Gojo (For example, the latest MMV for volume 26's release)
Their birthday's solar terms tying in with parts. (Geto being "Risshun" beginning of spring & Gojo being "Taisetsu" heavy snow.)
Rings for them that were released on August 8th, which is "Pairing day" in Japan
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Jujutsu Kaisen 0
Geto's kesa is specifically a Gojo kesa
Gojo stating in 0 that
"I've always believed... ...Love manifests the most distorted curses." / "This is my personal theory, but there's no curse more twisted than love."
Even after 10 years, Gojo recognized Geto's smell. (The mall scene after Yuta & Toge fought the curse)
Geto renaming someone to "Sato" because
"That's what I've decided, so Sato is better."
This sunset scene
Gojo's veil is black & Geto's veil is white. Gojo's veil causes darkness, Geto's does not. [Peep who reminded me]
The song "This is pure love" not only plays over Yuta & Rika vs Geto, but also plays over Geto & Gojo's conversation
The way that Geto looks at Gojo & says his name, and how Gojo looks at Geto & says his name
Geto's blushing face at Gojo that we were robbed of in the anime
Some of the lines from the JJK 0 light novel lines
"Yet Gojo's bandage-covered eyes kept watching, kept following the shape of Geto's soul."
"But to Gojo Satoru, he was ——
'————, ————'
'...ha.'
When he heard the words Gojo blurted out, Geto couldn't help but laugh. Such embarrassing [...] words. Even why they were students, those words had never been said before.
'You should've at least cursed me a little before the end.'
December 24, 2017. The curse called Geto had been well and truly exorcised."
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Season 1
JJK Juju stroll
"Q: What kind of person is your type?"
Gojo: "[...]The one who seemed nice. With the notable bangs."
yes, i know who he stated but the way he answered was so half arsed as he struggled to come up with an answer as an example of his type. 💀
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Season 2
Again, the way they look at each other and say each other's names (There's another picture with Gojo looking at Geto, but I'm missing it right now)
THE HECKIN GOJO & GETO VALENTINES CAKE??
They literally even have a themed honeymoon place???
Geto makes sure Gojo has his favorite soda. :3
Part 1 / volume 8 - 9
The intro for season 2 part 1
"Even after I got to know the smell of you, different from mine"
"In such a color as if it were a silent love"
"I've got a curse word for you stuck in the back of my throat"
The outro for season 2 part 1:
"Even trivial conversations are fine Show me your blushing face once more"
"It only exists here I want to touch you"
The fish in the outro
The flowers in the intro & outro. [Peep who reminded me]
The purple ones (Located on table in the part where older Gojo is sitting in a chair by a window) are possibly Primula/Primrose flowers. They can represent young love, beauty, desire, desperate, and can be a symbol of spring and renewal/new beginnings. etc.
The yellow ones (Located in the part where Gojo & Geto are sitting together with their hands & cans of soda surrounded by the flowers) are possibly osmanthus flowers. They can represent love, passion, happiness, beauty, etc.
[See here , here, here , here , here , here ]
Geto not answering Tsukumo Yuki's question of what kind of woman is his type more than once
When Geto is asked by Haibara if he would like a sweet or savory souvenir, Geto says
"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."
Part 2 / volume 11
This whole image (Geto in the glasses on the left, and Kenjaku's silhouette on Gojo's face on the right)
Season 2 part 2's "Specialz" intro hidden meaning
Despite the following about Geto's state, Geto's body still instinctively reacted to stop Kenjaku from hurting Gojo.
"Q: Fake Geto's arm was moving during the Shibuya Incident, but how much of Geto's consciousness remains in the body?
A: Not much. He was moving like how a dragonfly whose neck was torn off can move."
Fun fact: Some owls pair/bond for life (Whether the owl is supposed to be Geto's because Kenjaku is using Geto at the time or it's not Geto's animal because that is Kenjaku is up to you)
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Volume 26
The Camilla flowers with snow. Not only do they represent Gojo well with their meaning, including one meaning being unchanging/strong love alongside modest love / beauty for pink, but flowers are given to different dates. The birth flower of February is this flower, said to bloom on the 3rd of this month. Aka Geto's birthday.
Chapter 236
Gojo actively chose to fight on December 24th (a day considered romantic for Japan) which is now the day both Geto and him have died on. Even Kenjaku acknowledges the days significance with
"Ha ha! How romantic. Isn't it gross to make plans with each other on Christmas eve?"
These lines
Both Gojo & Geto's volumes' numbers can have bad meanings in Japan. 4 can mean death & 9 can mean to suffer/agony. (I put this under volume 26's section because of the spoiler)
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There's likely more, but this is what we could think of right now. XD
If you have anything you want to add on, feel free to send it my way because the more help the better & easier this is. (^w^ ) Same for any corrections to the list (as it's just me writing up this post and I may make slip ups)
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anger (e.w)
❞ angry ellie?? HELL YEAH p.s. lmk if i should work on anything to improve! also so sorry about tagging my fics incorrectly! i'm new to tumblr - em ❞
SUMMARY :: ellie has a bad day and takes it out on you
꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳ ꙳
As soon as you saw her angry expression you knew that you were in for a good time. There was a certain point within your girl's anger where all she needed was a distraction. And you were her favorite distraction.
“Stop fucking squirming, I know you like this you little slut” Her teeth were skating across your clit, hands gripping so tightly on your waist there was no way it wouldn’t leave a mark. It hurt but you liked it. You fucking loved it when she got like this.
She knew your body so well, always able to put you at her mercy with a few words or light touches. She was always so good to you when you needed her…You were glad to do the same for her. She deserved a break from the hard life she led.
So you let ellie lay you down as soon as she got home after she told you something along the lines of “Stop fucking talking.” Before she kissed you like she wanted to take all the air that was in your lungs. If she did after all, you would let her.
You knew she’d make it up to you later. Probably put herself on her knees to worship you like you deserved.
But for now, she needed this to be the opposite of that. ellie wasn’t focused on making you feel good like she normally did, she was trying to relieve herself from the pressure of the intense day she had.
"Didn't I just tell you to stop moving, you stupid little slut." She huffed out.
She smirked into your skin, detaching her mouth from your core for the third time. The distressed cry you let out was so pretty it almost made her feel bad. Almost. Ellie didn’t give in so easily.
Ellie smirked as she let her eyes trail across your body that was coated in dark purple marks that she’d kiss later when she apologized for being so rough with you. You’d dismiss her, how you loved being her little work of art.
“Please, just wanna come.” Your words are barely tangible.
She gripped your jaw and you mewl from shock. Even when she’s fucking pissed and can only think about how small she wants to make you feel, she’d never actually hurt you. Ellie doesn't dream of that. “You’ll come if and only if i decide you will. you take what I give you.”
Your back arches when she lets two fingers slip past your entrance.
“What am I gonna do with you?” her voice was so lustful it almost made your mouth water. “You like it when i treat you like a little slut, don’t you?”
You do, you really fucking do. you nod, biting your lip as you fight the urge to buck your hips into her fingers, desperate to feel her deeper. fuck her and her perfect fucking fingers.
“Say it.”
“I love it.” Your eyes bubble with tears cause she’s been edging you for an hour…bringing you to the edge only to pull away before you coming.
“Hmm.” she kisses your nose, the sweet gesture making your head spin in contrast to how mean she was being seconds ago. “So pretty when you cry.”
It was embarrassing how much her humiliation turns you on. Her words, her mocking tone, the fact that you were naked while she was completely clothed. She looked up at you so casually, like what she was doing wasn’t so goddamn filthy.
You clench when her fingers curl, you’re so fucking close. You’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking pent up.
Then she pulls her fingers out of you. You keep your legs closed.
“Open your legs.” It’s gruff and demanding, you know better than to tease her but knowing why she’s doing this makes it impossible not too.
“You have to ask me nicely first, ells.” You keep your knees buckled together, smiling up at her like you knew all her secrets or something.
“Open your fucking legs.” Her hands reach up to your knees and yank them apart. You gasp when the cold air hits your pussy, wondering why you flirt with dominance when you know you’ll give into submission every single time.
“‘M sorry, just can’t take anymore.” You pout up at her.
“And who exactly the fuck do you think you are?” She scoffs and you almost flinch at how harsh her tone is. “You don’t like what I give you?”
“WAIT ‘m sorry. I love it, ‘m sorry.” You rush, apologies flowing from your lips like it was the only language you could speak. She hums like she’s in thought but you can look in her eyes and tell her mind is made up.
Her mouth levels with your core again, “So be a good little dirty slut and lie there and take it.”
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ꗃ%em’s library⤷✰
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I was curious how to get your clan really set off? I recently (LIKE EARLIER TODAY JFJSJFJ) started my own clangen blog but idk if it's worthy of Tumblr😭
How can I improve my art and improve my process? You're one of my BIGGEST inspirations ngl you're literally him (or her or they I'm so sorry I never caught your pronouns) but I was just curious on how to be better? If you wanna look, don't. It's like, rlly bad so.... save your eyes. Have a lovely nighttt <33
HELLOOOOO
I'M NOT 100% SURE WHAT YOU MEAN BY SET OFF I'M SORRY :{
if you mean to get people reading it, i think it's vastly just luck also appealing to an audience by accident
i posted my art online for 10 years (i started posting in 2010 as a wee ka- told you i'm an adult haahahueu) before anyone showed consistent interest and i valued those two or so commenters who occasionally had something to say about my stuff, so much LAKSNLKD. that entire decade i got between 2 and 30 favourites for every piece i posted- usually between 2 and 10- until around 2021 when a making a comic aANNND joining a wolf ARPG group exposed me to many kindred art-enjoyers that wanted to keep up with my goofy stories
then for some reason, i posted Dewclan's first page on tumblr and it got way more engagement than any other piece of art i've ever posted SO LAKSDNLKDAS
WE CANNOT PREDICT THESE THINGS.. at least i can't
if you're looking for engagement, pLS AIM FOR ENGAGEMENT THAT FEELS MEANINGFUL over anything else
IN MY OPINION, and it's just my opinion- part of being 'better' is, first and foremost, being able to enjoy your art alone. and then being excited with what you choose to share! even if you don't care about your quality of art, care about the story. if you don't care about the story, care about the process and just having fun. but you have to have fun in doing it, and do it for your own eyes primarily. like if you were alone in a room and creating only for yourself! because, until you happen to find others who like what you're liking, you are
then when someone is interested and you get to share that excitement, even that ooone comment on something you care about is OOGHHH SUCH A NICE FEELIN.
enter communities, comment on other artists' work, try to make friends!
but make sure to remember, if you create with the hopes others will like it, without liking it yourself, you're going to be really broken down if someone doesn't like it FOR you
:{ loving your own art is tough work but it's integral to your longterm relationship with drawing
ON IMPROVING..
for me, nothing is more integral to improving than finding a way to practice that suits you (looking at live figures doesn't help me at all. i don't know why. it's insane), and having fun doing it. i can't grasp anatomy unless i break it down with shapes. SHAPES ARE EVERYTHING. study the shapes of what you want to draw. break em down by tracing simple shapes over your subject. see if the leg is the same length as the head from muzzle to neck and lock that info in. STUFF LIKE THAT
on the technical side of things, it can be super helpful to dedicate half an hour or so to drawing a day- eventually it becomes a habit and you just default to 'oh i think i wanna draw' when you've got nothing else to do. more drawing, more improvement!
HONESTLY THO another important thing is not putting yourself down. i know it's a hard habit to break (i struggle with it outside of art myself!), but it doesn't do you any favours. the more you rag on yourself, the more it'll manifest as something that actually damages your art, AND your relationship with it. let it be fun- don't sabotage yourself! you can be critical of your work and still kind!
little tip here, improving can take a while, but experimenting with styles can make an INSTANT shift in how you perceive your stuff. ALSOOO EXPERIMENT WITH DIFFERENT BRUSHES FOR SKETCHING AND LINING. I PROOMISE. PLS DO IT. IT'S LIKE A MAGIC TRICK. i cannNNNOT sketch with a hard brush. everything looks horrible. marker brush tho?? so smooth. full of character. lovely. binary brush sketches? suddenly i'm Anime. pencil brush?? i digidevolve back into baby ka who loved to crosshatch and do semi realism. airbrush??? i explode into atoms actually
i find for a lot of people, they don't need to improve or be 'better' at art, they need to learn to enjoy what they're capable of doing now, and improvement is a byproduct. from what i've seen through the years, unless you work to curb it the negative view of your art will stick with you no matter what 'skill level' you get to bc the calls' comin from inside the house, yknow what i mean 3:
it can be a long process to learn to accept your art, and sometimes you just plain grow out of it over time! but in the meantime it can't hurt to make efforts to fight your d e m o n s
I'M SORRY I WROTE SO MUCH IK YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS ALL
IT ISN'T JUST TO YOU, ODESSY-CLAN BLOG RUNNER, IT'S AIMED AT ANYONE WITH ARTSY SELF DOUBTS. i hope i phrased everything kindly bc i meant it all kindly 3: i hate to see an artist doubt their work, but THERE IS NO SHAME IN IT. i want to encourage loving it regardless of any flaws tho, even though it takes time!
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I read your post about not letting kudos and hits upset us. I try to think this way but I'm curious about something else. I've written many fanfics for my fandom and they're all "flop". I don't mind that honestly. But then some writers have written only one fic about the ship I do and and it gets hundreds of kudos. How do some writers achieve that when I'm doing the same and it doesn't get the same response. What else can I do?
I’m afraid I can’t give you a definite answer about what you should do or why this person’s work is more popular, but what I can give you are some advice and, from my experience, some reasons that might explain why other’s works receive more hits and kudos.
start with why other writers’ works are more popular when it’s the same characters, same ship, same fandom. there are various factors at play that might be it;
maybe the person already has large audience base prior to their posting about the fandom you’re in, I know a few authors who already have these sorts of loyal readers that would read any work the authors posted even if they (the readers) were not in that fandom.
maybe someone, anyone, decided share the link to this person’s work on Tumblr or Twitter (X) or any social media platform, and it kind of became viral, thus it drew in lots and lots of readers. it could take just one person, didn’t necessarily have to be the author themself, to share the link among the fandom as a recommendation, or maybe a screenshot of one sentence from the fic that they liked, what happened next is that the replies were filled with people asking for the link.
tags and summary are important factors when people are looking for a fic to read. so maybe this person’s work is tagged with the content people were looking for? maybe their summary grabbed people’s attention or curiosity?
these are just what I can think of over the top of my head.
as for what you can do to gain more readers, I’ve never seen your work so the advice I can give will be a general one; I believe the trick lies in summary, tags as well as the format of one’s work.
when it comes to AO3 (I assume it’s your platform?), tags and summary are the main things people use to determine whether or not they want to click on the fic.
tag your content properly, what characters or pairings it’s about, as well as what the readers will find upon reading your work (you don’t have to spoil it, only the general tags that will give your readers an idea of what they’re in for).
summaries are just as important. there are no “rules” obviously, and I’m not telling you or any writers what to do. though a little advice that I personally take is that you use this little summary section AO3 gives you to do anything to make sure it stands out and that people will see it and want to click on it. that means leave “author’s note” out of the summary section. folks, AO3 summary is the first glimpse into the fic itself that people will see prior to clicking on it, most of the time, people look at the summary to see the author’s writing style and if what’s written, plotwise, grabs their interest. personally, when I see an author use “summary” as a place to write “author’s note”, chances are, I will scroll past that fic as I am interested in what the fic is about, not what the author has to say about their opinion on said fic or their personal life or anything (there’s an author’s note section for that) and if I can’t get a glimpse of what the plot is about or what the author’s writing style is from the summary section, then I won’t click on it, and will look for other fic that can get me interested instead.
moving on to fic format, again, I am not telling anyone what to do here. this is only a suggestion, an advice I’ve learned and want to share: when you write your fic, make sure to use line and paragraph spacing. if your 10k word long fic is one long block of text with no paragraph break, chances are, people will back away from it entirely. also, if it’s two different characters talking with dialogues, don’t put all of their dialogues in one paragraph. for instance, a paragraph for character A’s dialogue, then another separate paragraph for character B’s dialogue and so on.
and I think that’s it for my advice? however, I’ll say this again that the secret to truly enjoying your role as a fanfic writer is that you only focus on yourself. write whatever you want for yourself. it doesn’t matter if this person’s work is more popular, because fanfics and fandoms aren’t a competition. you are your main audience. just have fun creating the stories you want to create for you.
#admin answers#writing tips#writing tip#whump#writing#writer#writeblr#ao3#archive of our own#whumpblr#writing advice#writing advices#how to ao3#writers#writing challenge#writing inspo#writing inspiration#blorbo#comfort character#whump community#fanfic#fanfiction#fandom#fandoms
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break up with him
reader x dom!jongho ft. yunho
smut | angst | nsfw | mdni
unrequited love, jealousy, cheating, spanking, oral (m), deepthroat, unprotected sex (not even the pull out method), degradation (slut, whore, sow), guilt, mean jongho is kinda mean but i luv it, bf!yunho cameo, getting caught kink, this one is kinda ansgty
requested | part of my 2023 prompt event [closed]
jongho is tired to be the bad guy. tired of acting like he doesn't care when you kiss him. tired of lying to his best friend. and he's ready to put everything on the line. he wants you for himself only.
[❛ you look like you were jealous. ❜ + ❛ say you want me, and i’m yours. ❜]
TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤
Jongho didn't understand how he got there.
How did he fall in love with one of his best friends' girl. But how could he not? Given the sinful things you both did in the private company of each other. How could he not when his name sounded so melodic hanging on your perfect lips, rolling off your hot tongue between moans and pants. How could he not fall for you ? Knowing that when Yunho will be sleeping tonight you'll come over to his room again. Do it all over again, stomp on his heart to protect your boyfriend's.
Because Yunho was the love of your life. Of that you were deeply convinced. It was love you felt when he held you in his arms and you rested your head on his broad chest. It was love you heard when he murmured sweet nothings in your ear. It was love when he made you smile. It was love when he made you laugh. It was love. True Love.
So why didn't you feel complete? Why was there something perpetually missing ? You tried so hard to find that thing in Yunho. But it was in vain. That something you couldn't name, you couldn't identify…
On one drunken night at the dorm you finally put your finger on it. Only you and Jongho were left. All the others were either blacked out drunk or just sleeping. Neither of you thought of anything beforehand. It wasn't planned, it all happened naturally. You were drawn to him, drawn to the missing puzzle piece that your boyfriend couldn't provide. That night was electrifying, that raw feeling of thrill, of excitement. That was the danger you've been missing. The risk, the edge. The sin.
That night was a slip up, a mistake you were both too drunk to think straight. It was unplanned and it should have stayed that way. But all the other nights that followed didn't really stick to the fortuity of the first one. The others were all prepared. And this one too.
Jongho couldn't handle it anymore. The secrecy, the way he had to act unbothered while you sat across from him in Yunho's lap. Your arms draped around his neck, your nose nuzzled against his cheek as he smiled so fondly at you. Two love birds completely oblivious of the world outside of their small lovey dovey bubble.
The rest of the group were used to the public display of affection and everyone was eating, drinking and chatting away, paying no mind to the gut stirring array of love… No one paid attention to the both of you except Jongho for whom the conversations around him felt like a distant whisper. Because he could only hear the screeching sound of his heart breaking. Pieces being broken up into tiny fragments, fragments grounded into dust until the wounded organ was unrecognizable even for its owner.
Jongho balled his fists under the table over both his knees, his nails dug into his palm but the muted pain was incomparable to the gaping agony he felt in his chest, threatening to swallow him whole.
And nobody even picked up on it. Nobody knew about his anguish and he couldn't share his burden with anyone. He was the bad guy; fucking his best friend's girlfriend behind his back. Yunho was the main character and he was just the villain that everyone wanted to see defeated at the end of the movie. Nobody routed for him. Maybe not even himself. Somewhere deep inside he believed he didn't deserve sympathy.
This thought was unbearable and in a weird reflex Jongho shot up his chair, maybe in an attempt to distract his mind from the blackhole that was taking over in his chest. All eight heads whipped in his direction, confused faces looking back at him, searching for some kind of insight on the unexpected and sudden gesture.
"Something's wrong?" Yunho was the first one to ask.
Shut the fuck up.
That was what Jongho wanted to say but he bit the inside of his cheek to keep the heinous words behind his teeth. He hated that Yunho was such a good friend and he was the bad one. He hated him. He hated himself.
His eyes fluttered to you looking back at him just as confused as the other one.
But why couldn't he hate you?
Was this an act, were you that much of a good actress or didn't you really understand what was going on in his mind ? Were you oblivious to the feelings he developed for you? Either way it did nothing to soothe Jongho's chaotic mind.
"Jongho?" Seonghwa spoke up. And the older's reassuring voice brought Jongho back.
"Yes... I'm just kinda dizzy" he started, rubbing circles on his temples. "I think I should go for the night. I-I need to rest." and he stormed off to his room, escaping the confused and concerned gazes but also and primarily the source of his misery, you.
Silence fell over the once joyous table of friends as Jongho disappeared in the hall.
"You should go talk to him" Hongjoong interjected. All eyes followed his own, all turning to you.
"Me?"
"Yeah you guys are really close" San said, shrugging right beside you. You nearly choked on air at the remark while everybody nodded their heads in approval. Stress started to bubble in your guts as you cracked an awkward smile.
"Come on babe he obviously needs you" Yunho encouraged you, big large palms gently pushing you up, encouraging you to get off his lap.
What were you supposed to do? You had to go not to raise suspicion. You dragged your feet made heavy with the weight of guilt to the hall. Heart swelling with remorse as your unsuspecting and caring boyfriend gave you an approbating nod.
"Take good care of our maknae" you heard Mingi shout as you closed back the door.
Somehow the hall felt chilly, and you didn't even bother turning on the light as you velvet threaded to Jongho's room. You walked that path at night a thousand times before.
You knocked on the door but didn't wait for an answer before pushing the door and inviting yourself in. It almost felt weird to not lock the door behind you. Because this time your visit had a different purpose and somehow it felt even more immoral than usual. Maybe because this time Yunho himself sent you here. Right in the wolf's dent.
Jongho was sitting at his desk, his back facing you while he was browsing on his computer. You didn't need to see his face to know he wasn't well. It was written all over the walls, it was in the heavy air, soaked with humid tension.
"Jongho are you okay?" you asked, genuinely concerned. Jongho was first your friend.
The soft and caring tone drove a dagger through his heart. He couldn't handle lying to himself and to you right now. He couldn't handle being close to you right now.
"Yeah I'm okay I think I'm just getting sick maybe" he answered back, perfectly mastering the unwavering and monocorde tone. Being careful to not let his body language betray him.
You bit your lips. You knew it was a lie but part of you wanted to accept his response and turn on your heels. Part of you didn't want to deal with what you had created. But it was your responsibility and you owed at least that much to Jongho.
"You look like you were...jealous" the heavy word seemed to fall from your lips on to crash at your feet in an impossible blare making your ears ring and your heart pound.
Silence fell again. And the brief moment seemed to have transformed into a century.
Then Jongho spinned in his chair to face you finally. You didn't have time to scan his face before he spoke.
"Break up with him"
Jongho looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed, lips pinched into a pained pout. Merely looking at him breaks your heart and you can't help guilt sneak up on you again, crawling under your skin, making you squirm in discomfort.
You opened your mouth to speak but Jongho seemed like he picked up on the excuse you were about to mindlessly throw his way to get out of this situation and he interrupted you. He stood and walked to you to face you. So he could see you, so there would be no doubt left, no space for interpretation between your two bodies.
"Say you want me and I'm yours"
This was Jongho's last chance. He was putting everything on the line, presenting his damaged heart to you. It was in your hands and your hands alone. Offering you the wounded and pathetic organ. Yet it was everything he had left.
It was up to you to either pick up the broken pieces and nurture them back into a beating and loving heart or stomp over it one last time and finally put him out of his misery. Squishing the last drops of blood out of the atrophied muscle until it laid there immobile and cold.
You didn't know what to say. Nothing you could say could ever make it right. Not even if you had an eternity to think about the words you were going to use. An eternity to weigh in every little variation in the semantics, every single nuance of the chosen terminology. Nothing could fix the damage you had done.
But you didn't have an eternity. You only had a few seconds and you used them all up being sorry and silent.
Stomping it was then…
And just like that Jongho had his answer.
Your heart crinkled into a small ball when you saw him hang his head in defeat.
You couldn't offer a comforting word but you could still offer a comforting touch. You lifted your hand to the crown of his head hoping to maybe gently pat it. Like you have done a thousand times. Usually, that always made him smile. But you didn't have time to reach him. He caught your wrist in a strong grip. You hissed at the sudden pain. With a quick jerk of your arm he pulled you into his chest.
"Since you didn't come to speak maybe you came to fuck?" his voice was as cold as ever. A tone you never heard from him even in the deepest and darkest of nights when you were to see a version of him that nobody knew. This time the coldness was unmatched. The biting tone didn't come from pent up lust. It came from anger.
And you hated yourself for the way your body reacted to it. Reacted to his low voice, to his strong grip, to the burning eyes. To him. Nobody could talk to your body, to your primal instincts like Jongho.
"Jongho" you whimpered in a mere whisper. Trying to conceal the bubbling arousal in your gut by pushing your thighs together.
Jongho crashed his lips on yours to silence you. Without giving you a choice he pulled you into the sinful act. Drowning you into his embrace, dragging you into the abyss along with him. You felt his hand creep up on the side of your face before his thumb pried your jaw open, tongue lapping at your own as his other hand slipped from your wrist up your forearm to your nape. Bending your neck right into position, making your face look up so he could explore you deeper and gouge out every single one of your secrets.
You lost track of time and space as he made you drunk on his minty taste and strong musky cedar wood cologne. You moaned into his mouth while his warm palm was pushing you deeper into him.
"Touch me" he commanded and you immediately lifted a febrile hand to his groin. You gasped when your fingertips grazed the hard member. Somehow, even after a thousand times, you still managed to be suprised by the girth and length of it. But above all it was incredibly hard. Harder than it ever was with just a simple kiss.
You started to palm him through his black trousers which he responded with a hum of satisfaction. Catching your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling on it until it snapped back against your teeth.
"On your knees. Now"
You dropped to the floor before you could even think about it. Your mind being completely bent to Jongho's desire. His hand left your nape to untangle with your hair and you felt goosebumps rise from your heated skin as the cold air hit your neck.
"Help me with this, whore"
The term of endearment made your guts gush with arousal. Your feeble hands unbuckled his belt, the cold metal contrasting with your hot skin. You unzipped his trousers and hurriedly pulled them down along with his underwear. The lively length sprung in front of your face, making your eyes round up in need and your mouth water with anticipation.
"What are you waiting for?" Jongho spat your way, the unwavering biting tone making you flinch and bite your lip. "Do what you came for. Do what you do best" He growled as he pulled you by the hair, bringing your trembling lips right to his tip, precum forcing its way on your tongue making you yearn for more of his alluring taste.
You let your mouth be guided on his length, opening your wet hole and letting Jongho control you like a puppet until the tip of your tongue reached his balls and your nose his pubic bone. He stayed just like that for a few seconds as your eyes prickled with tears. His girthy member occupying your mouth as it was his birthright. Making a home out of the narrow and wet cavern.
Jongho grunted as he slowly pulled your head back. Thick strings of spit still linking your swollen lips to the angry twitching member.
"That's all you're good for, right?" he moaned as you nodded your head. Jongho couldn't tell if you were just bobbing your head on his length or if you were answering him but he didn't care. He was done listening to you.
"That’s right take my cock" he grunted, pushing his hips forward as your knees scraped on the wooden floor. "You think he knows?" Jongho smirked when he picked up on the small soubresaut of your body.
"You think that's what he had in mind when he sent you to comfort me?"
Your guts slushed around swimming in the guilt you were desperately trying to forget.
"You think he thought it meant for you to let me fuck your throat like that, huh?" He gave you one powerful thrust.
Jongho grew angrier as he took your head in both of his hands, strong grasp keeping you in place as he smashed himself inside, his length stretching your throat to breaking point. The burn made your head dizzy as you struggled for air and big tears trailed down your burning cheeks.
"I'll have to say thank you to hyung. Sending over his precious girl for me to use like this." He then popped his length out your mouth while you were already missing him brushing the back of your throat. With one coercive pull he brought you back up on your feet.
"Strip" he commanded while maintaining the grip around your hair. You awkwardly struggled to open your blouse letting it float to your sides and wiggle out of your pants. Without thinking Jongho tore away your bra and panties off your bodies as you whimpered in shock, leaving you exposed to his gaze.
He harshly cupped your breast squeezing the lumps of flesh as you mewled under his touch. Briefly pulling on your hardened nipple before flipping you and pushing you against the door. Your upper half pressed against the cold wood while your ass hung up in the air. Jongho tapped on your feet with his heels and you immediately spread your legs.
"Good little whore. Ass up" he commanded and you perched yourself on your tippy toes.
Jongho took the base of his length and hissed when his tip made contact with your heat.
"Jongho" you whined. "Do you have a condom?" you asked, wiggling your ass up in the air only to be hit by a large palm clashing against the thin skin of your unclothed bottom. You whimpered at the burning sting biting your lip to refrain to ask for another one.
"Shut up. Sows like you are fucked raw"
Your breath hitched in your throat to the thought of Jongho's length digging deep inside you raw, taking over like it was its righteous place. A privilege once only reserved to your beloved boyfriend.
He ribbed small circles on your clit as you arched your back. You couldn't believe how sensitive you had become without being touched.
"Isn't that what you wanted, little slut?" he asked, bending over you his warm clothed body warming your back. You nodded as you squirmed again, yearning for the relieving friction.
The daring gesture only earned you another harsh slap.
"Speak whore"
"Y-yes. Please please Jongho please"
You were pathetic barely making any sense, your mind barely able to form coherent words. Fucked out before it even started.
You could have died from pure bliss when Jongho finally slid inside you. He parted you so deliciously, with every inch that he shoved inside you you were becoming more and more breathless. Catching your bottom lips between your teeth hissing all the way until he bottomed out.
"Ahhh Jongho please. Fuck me. Please please" you begged without restrain shame not even crossing your mind.
And Jongho didn't ask for more. Immediately he aimed for the stars and threw his hips into yours making the squelching wet sounds of your dripping pussy bounce off the walls of the small dimlitted room.
The angle, the rhythm, the depth. Everything was perfect. He was fucking you exactly like you needed to be. Each stroke bringing you closer to completion, each thrust turning your mind into an amalgame of lustful and unholy thoughts until you were ready to give out.
Knock knock knock
"Are you ok in there?"
It was Yunho.
You both freezed for a second. But you were the first one to catch up.
"Yeah don't worry baby. I think Jongho feels better now." You stated in the most neutral and steady voice you could manage, glancing over at Jongho over your shoulder.
"Yeah hyung. Don't worry I'll be fine"
Your heart was pounding in your chest and resonating in your ears. As your feet barely held you anymore, your pussy pulsing around Jongho's large cock. So close to completion that you might just cum from imagining your boyfriend standing right outside unsuspecting of how good his friend was fucking you.
"Okay don't take too long you two" Yunho said before you heard his footsteps fade away in the hall.
You both took a deep breath but before you could think again Jongho was back smashing himself into you this time with even more force.
"Does he fuck you like this?" he growled. The sinful sounds of skin clashing against skin.
"Noooo nobody can fuck me like you do Jongho" you whined as you felt your center growing tighter and tighter. He spanked you again, making you jerk on his length.
"Say how much bigger my cock is"
"You have the biggest and the best fucking cock Jongho please don't stop."
Jongho grunted and you felt him twitch inside you. You both approaching your high, flirting with the edge.
"Say it again"
"I love your cock. I want only your cock. Yunho can never fuck me like you do." you whined as your legs began to shake, threatening to give out at any second.
"Fuck baby." Jongho panted. "Fuckkkk y/n" his thrusts started to become sloppy, the rhythm falling short, strokes becoming more and more shallow.
"Jongho I'm cumming" you announced as you finally grasped your climax, the wave of pleasure crushing your body into a million of incandescent pieces, taking over your mind you couldn't think of anything other than him, getting drunk off his moans and grunts as he perfectly smashed against your sweet spot, cutting your breath and making big tears of bliss roll on your cheeks.
"Fuck y/n. I love you" he let the words roll off his tongue as he finally came undone. 'I love you. I love you. I love you" he kept on chanting, painting your unguarded walls a brand new shade of white. Thick ropes of burning cum making you quiver around him, milking him to the last drop until his groans died down in hushed short breaths, beads of sweat running down his temples and pearling on his lip.
When he slipped out of you guilt crept under your skin again while you looked back at the younger man through your lashes.
You wanted to say those words back to him. But there was only one man you loved.
a/n: this one was a angsty one. i hope you enjoyed it. if you did please tell me in the comments or drop by my asks. i love your feedback guys <3
#jongho smut#ateez smut#atz jongho#ateez jongho#atz smut#ateez jongho smut#atz jongho smut#choi jongho#jongho#jongho hard hours#ateez hard hours#ateez x you#ateez x reader#jongho x you#jongho x reader#ateez angst#jongho angst#ateez yunho
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my tears ricochet
treech x female 7th district reader
warnings: no use of y/n, third-person narrative, angst, headcanons (9th hunger games winner, treech's family), l-bombs, violence, deaths.
summary: she did everything to prevent him from losing her too, eventually losing him herself.
word count: 859
author's note: my first time writing on tumblr, i had a huge wave of inspiration after listening to sad songs and watching edits of treech. english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes. this is a songfic to my tears ricochet by taylor swift. enjoy, loves.
her name was pulled. among hundreds of others. everything around her is in slow motion, she doesn't hear anything, doesn't see her mother's frightened eyes. she only notices treech's hand rising, he is now ready to volunteer, so she wouldn't be taken to the games. she manages to grab him with both hands and whispers, calming herself rather than him.
"it's going to be okay, i'll be fine, treech."
he shakes his head in disbelief. she can't leave him, leave her mom. die.
and she doesn't understand how she can cope. this is not a self-preservation instinct. it's an instinct to save those she cares about.
"listen, aspen is going to be with me. you can't come with me, please, i can't stand it if you die."
"i can't stand it if you die!" he repeats after her. "i can't lose you!" treech breaks down, despite the huge crowd.
burning tears flow down her cheeks, blurring the dirt on her face, and leaving long streaks.
"that's why i'm not going to die," she looks at him, reassuring. "i'm not going to die, treech. please take care of mom," she says when the peacekeepers grab her when they hold on to each other with the last of their strength.
cause I loved you, I swear I loved you
till my dying day
"i love you, okay? forever," their hands separate and soldiers drag the girl to the stage.
"let her go!" treech hisses, trying to fight the soldiers who are holding him tightly from running after her.
the doors close and she hears him scream.
we gather here, we line up,
weepin' in a sunlit room
when the counter counts down the seconds before the games begin, she can't think, there's a white noise in her head. there are no places to hide in the huge arena. here you can only fight and try to survive. she needs to survive because they are waiting for her at home. treech has no one but her. his parents died in a forest fire, as did her father.
and if I'm on fire,
you'll be made of ashes, too
she starts running towards the center with all her strength and grabs an axe, while two tributes attack two more. they die in seconds. she backs away and a guy from district 4 grazes her arm with a sword, trying to pierce it. she turns around and stabs him in the head with an axe.
the games lasted for several hours, the remaining three tributes, including her, are sitting on opposite sides of the arena, exhausted. aspen was killed by a girl from district 9.
and she's just waiting for the attack.
and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves
you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same
this is not a victory, but a simple accident. but it doesn't matter now, because she's going home.
we gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean
some to throw, some to make a diamond ring
they are sitting by a small lake, throwing stones into it, which leaves circles, a month after the hunger games. they devote all their time to each other, and treech is insanely happy that she is with him, that she is alive. she didn't leave him.
"soon I'll earn a lot of money and buy us a house, and we will live there. just the two of us. and then I'll buy you a diamond ring and we'll get married," treech often voiced his thoughts, to which she always laughed and said that they would have to work very hard.
and when you can't sleep at night
(you hear my stolen lullabies)
at night, she was tormented by terrible nightmares that she was back in the arena, she was shaking and nothing could help but funny songs sung to her by her beloved lumberjack in a hat, wrapping her in a warm blanket by his embrace and words about how brave she is.
when his name is pulled at the next reaping, she can't breathe. this just can't be happening. they've been through so much together that they've been torn apart again. she's broken up by games. killed by the reaping. at that carefree time, treech guessed that such an outcome could take place, so he was ready. as much as it was possible.
"you were able to come back to me, and i will do everything to come back to you," he strokes her cheek with one hand, and with the other he puts a ring in her deathly cold ones. "i love you."
the peacekeepers take him away.
she falls to her knees and a frantic scream pierces the entire square.
when the neighbors talk about tributes returning, she joyfully runs to meet treech, confident of his victory. there are two coffins at the square, in one of which lies lamina, and in the other her brave beautiful boy. he didn't come back to her.
you know I didn't want to have to haunt you
but what a ghostly scene
you wear the same jewels that I gave you
as you bury me
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#tbosas x reader#treech x reader#treech tbosas#treech fanfiction
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Cunning Linguist
pietro maximoff x reader smut
warnings: cunnilingus, porn with (slight) plot, blow jobs, dissociative identity disorder, dissociation, existential crisis, smut, shameless smut, halloween, canon divergence
word count: 3,990
a/n: i meant to finish this ages ago. but i always overthink shit. i rewrote this several times, and it still doesn't feel worth posting. oh well !! just meaningless filth - same old story, different clothing. i wanted to play with the concept of pietro as an alter in ralph's head. again. lol
he's a little ooc here. but i'm blaming the brain fog. i'm running on three hours of sleep every night. fuck it, we ball. also, not including a tag list because tumblr's system kinda sucks for it. sorry !!
Pietro recalled the moment his consciousness came to light.
Agnes waved her spooky hands in his face, as though she were taunting him. She muttered incantations under her breath. The words of which Pietro didn’t recognize as English. After implanting sentimental memories in his mind - based on stories of Wanda’s childhood - she sent him off on his own. Like letting a dog loose, free to roam.
Pietro’s mission? Find Wanda, have a gabfest or two, extract information. Or something along those lines. Pietro hadn’t paid much attention while Agnes yapped about it. Why focus on that, when the mystery of his own sentience piqued his interest instead?
He was given an easy enough job to do. No problem-o. Pietro had a talent for pestering people til’ they cracked. That’s what Agnes told him, anyway. He wasn’t too sure why she wanted him to play undercover rat. It had something to do with magic. Pietro knew that much. There was some kinda witch-on-witch rivalry in the works. But unfortunately for Agnes - and maybe fortunately for Wanda - she might have to take a raincheck on her duel of the sorceresses.
Pietro could be a bit of a dipshit. Was he stupid? Not so much. He had brains where it counted. He could be crafty. Even sneaky. But his expert level slyness didn’t make him any less of an idiot. Pietro couldn’t refute that factoid about himself. Around Wanda, he forgot how to function like a normal person. Which he blamed on the fact that he wasn’t a normal person. Being brutally honest with himself; Pietro technically wasn’t even a person at all.
More like a conceptual incarnation of human sentience, really. Simple enough.
No ifs, ands, or buts about it, though - Pietro carried the irksome flaws of a human. Often, he acted thoughtless when he didn’t mean to. Without filtering himself first, Pietro unapologetically spoke his mind. He’d drop fourth-wall breaking quips here or there. Sometimes, his careless habits made for entertaining slip ups. Perfect for sitcom shenanigans. Other times, his blunders resulted in pain. Lotsa pain.
Halloween night, Pietro found himself whisked away by a forceful wave. Conjured by Wanda’s potent magic. The same power Agnes wanted her wiggly witch fingers on. After going aerial in a wild whoosh, Pietro got up close and friendly with some Halloween decorations. But, hey, what’re a few broken bones between pseudo siblings, eh?
Wanda sure had a helluva temper. She quickly banished Pietro from ever setting foot in her house again. Talk about a major bummer. Pietro suffered a huge loss on that front. One part because he’d have no choice but to crash with Agnes again. Ninety nine parts because he’d miss his troublemaking nephews. Those fun, lil scamps.
Tough luck, Quickie. Try and do better next time.
Honestly, he’d prefer if there wasn’t a next time. If Agnes wanted to make small talk so bad, she could do it on her own. Calling it quits for the night, Pietro wandered off to a Westview bar. To his surprise, he found the place still in operation. And despite Pietro’s memories - vague imagery of Busch beer cans crushed under his fist - he hadn’t had a beer since his consciousness manifested. Shit. Did he even like beer? Whether he cared for it or not, a subconscious instinct drew him to it.
He assumed that instinct was none other than Ralph himself. The poor dude wanted to drown his terror in alcohol. And after all the twisted shit Agnes put Ralph through; who was Pietro to deny him one of life's simplest pleasures?
The mellow atmosphere of the bar oozed Halloween spirit. Kinda unnecessary, in retrospect. Considering Wanda never stopped by for a drink. Why bother sprucing the place up with her wispy magic, if it never saw any use?
The bartender’s clever quips reminded Pietro of Cheers. Another totally bonkers concept. Pietro had memories of watching Cheers, sure. But he couldn’t decipher if they were Ralph’s or not. For all Pietro knew, they might be a part of the ‘dead brother’ package deal. False memories, meant to give Wanda someone to relate to. Making him liable to tear down her defenses when she least expected it.
But why did Pietro get the sense he was more of a Frasier guy anyway?
Sitting at the bar on a rickety stool, Pietro spun around to satiate his boredom. He cradled a beer, inhaling all of it in a single beat. Superspeed really did have its ups and downs. Consider quick consumption a positive. As far as negatives go…well…inebriation was completely unattainable. Sucks for Ralph. As Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer, he tuned his ears to a radio broadcast. On a shelf amidst dollar store Halloween decor; a radio droned old fashioned tales of wicked witches. Subtle.
Outside interference interrupted the broadcast. Voices intermingled between buzzes of static. Whispering soft, but panicked mantras of 'Wanda? Wanda, are you there?' Pietro narrowed his beady eyes. His ignorance of the world outside Westview should’ve stayed intact. But whatever the reason, he knew exactly where those voices came from. Why he carried such knowledge was anyone’s guess. Maybe Agnes let too much her own insight slip into his psyche. Whoopsies. Oh well.
Shrugging, Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer. Deja vu.
Bored outta his mind, his thoughts explored elsewhere.
Pietro dreamt of something a little more down to earth. He remembered a cutie-pie neighbor new to Westview. A ‘next door’ kinda type, with a quirky sorta charm. They had no idea why they were in the city to begin with. Pietro knew these details, only because he gathered the what’s what on just about every person in town. It took him all of two seconds to do so. Zip around. Observe. Make mental notes. Report back to Agnes. Spill the deets.
Anyway, about you…
Call it a crush, loneliness, or even instinctive lust; whatever the case, Pietro thought you were cute as could be. You didn’t remember how you got to Westview, or where you even came from. One day, you woke up in town, and found yourself wearing unfamiliar clothes. Threads evocative of decades long past. But hey, it happens to the best of us. Pietro was well-acquainted with feelings of confusion and alienation. That mingled sense of being both lost, and born anew.
For crying out loud, he was the very materialization of sapient awareness itself. Agnes forbade him from that knowledge as well. But again, Pietro credited his oopsies and ding-dongs to her shoddy miracle work.
Whenever you questioned the reality around you, the world only stifled you into silence. The everyday citizens of Westview seemed so content with life as it was. Acting as if you had nothing to worry about. Wanda’s sitcom setup was nothing beyond sunshine, rainbows, and television tropes. But Pietro could see the unspoken terror hidden deep in their eyes. The truth Wanda kept hush hush.
Just thinking about it was enough to give Pietro the heebie jeebies. And if his intuition was anything to go by - it never proved him wrong yet - you had a bad feeling about Westview too. Way to go! You caught on even quicker than he did. Which was kinda nuts, if he thought about it. Wasn’t he supposed to be the fastest at everything? ‘Cuz speed was his middle name or something.
Or…well, it wasn’t. But it could be. Who’s to stop him from seizing his own destiny at this point?
Pietro Speed Maximoff.
Eh, maybe not.
In Westview, you had no friends or family. And much like Pietro, on Halloween night; you found yourself at the bar. He caught your curious gaze from down the counter. You were dolled up in a scanty, witch's dress, leaving Pietro to wonder why witches were such a recurring theme in his life. Looking too much like a manchild goober, he spun around a few more times in his seat. His sneakers kicked against the stool’s railing. No matter what, he couldn’t sit still. He thought he might be embarrassing himself. But his antics appeared to make you smile even brighter.
Tilting your head, you shot him a look of familiarity.
You weren’t familiar with him, though. But there was a chance you saw him appearing and disappearing around town. During his impromptu stake outs, more than likely.
Bringing your drink to the seam of your lips, you stifled a playful giggle. It was obvious you were gawking at his costume. Arching a brow, Pietro grinned into the rim of his beer bottle. To be fair, he looked supremely ridiculous. The blue tights under his cut-off jean shorts rode up in the crotch a little too much. He dipped his head, staring at the frayed edges of his shorts. Yeah. It was clear he did the job cutting them himself. A hasty one too. Since he was too eager to pull pranks with his nephews.
Damn. Pietro missed those kids like hell already.
The dirty blond hair/ear-things atop his head bounced every time he knocked his neck back. As Pietro downed yet another beer, he lost track of how many he drank. A dribble of it plummeted into silver. Creating a sheen against the lightning bolt duct taped diagonally down his shirt. Pietro sighed and pursed his lips.
His outfit was an all blue ensemble. Garnished with a spritz of silver here or there. Quicksilver. His hero name, apparently. Pietro knew he’d never live up to it.
A bit of friendly conversation later, and the air between the two of you shifted. Your playful look morphed into something a little wanton, the more Pietro acted in silly ways. Holy shit. Seriously? He hoped he wasn't misreading your signals. Because really, your attraction was too good to be true. If you honestly wanted him, where should he proceed from here? How much freedom had Agnes even allowed him? And furthermore - if Wanda’s happy, dream town ran on a curated schedule; what if credits rolled just as the two of you finally got handsy?
Maybe sitcom rules didn’t apply to conscious manifestations of witch hocus pocus? Wishful thinking on his part.
Outside the bar - in an alleyway too uncannily clean, like a set straight out of Hollywood - Pietro beckoned you in with kisses. Technically, he played the role of Agnes’s deadbeat husband. And if that were the case, did kissing you count as cheating? Shit…was Pietro committing adultery right now?? In the midst of macking on your sweet lips, he pressed a palm to the wall next to your head. Pietro pretended to do so for balance, as he devoured you with his mouth and tongue.
But unbeknownst to you, he cracked an eye open. Just to double check for a wedding band.
Nothing there to prove he ever got hitched. Go figure.
You giggled coyly into his lips, letting a soft moan ease through your teeth. Bringing your hands up to the hair/ear-things on his head, you toyed with them. Your pretty voice teased him, as you played with his hair in gentle strokes of your thumbs.
“Ooooh…such a good boy, huh? Fast too.” You cooed, the same way one might praise a puppy.
Oh. Fuck yeah. To hell with sitcom tropes and bogus wives. Agnes scared the ever-loving shit out of Pietro anyway. He had no semblance of a domestic connection to her. Not that she gave much of a damn herself. With how often she threw insults his way. Agnes always used Ralph as her little punching bag, before hijacking his body for her own gain.
No wonder your simple praises got his proverbial tail wagging.
A chuckle hummed in the back of his throat, as Pietro purred into your lips, “Speed’s kinda my middle name, y’know?”
You snorted one of the dorkiest laughs he’d heard since cognisant birth. And with a sudden spark of primal urgency; Pietro felt something else spring into transcendence down below.
Sifting through Ralph’s sidelined psyche, Pietro came to realize how much of a recluse he was. The guy never seemed to get out much. In fact, Agnes might’ve even been his first partner. If one could classify her as such. So, really, Pietro was doing him a major favor. If Ralph knew he planned on using their body for some frisky fun - on an otherwise lonely Hallow’s eve - surely, he’d give his brain roomie some thanks.
Pietro’s hands were vascular like a wired-up machine, clad in arm-warmer paws. Grabbing hard onto your curvy hips with them, he pulled you in closer. He sought the friction of your crotch against his. And after some seriously sloppy making out, Pietro dropped you an invite to his place.
Or…Agnes’s place.
Uh…or…was it technically Ralph’s? Shit, this sitcom roleplay sure gave way to some mental gymnastics.
You didn’t expect Pietro to zip you off at superspeed. Moving abruptly fast, he brought you straight to his disaster of a man cave. Laying you back on the futon, he gave you little time to adjust over the blankets. The wrinkled fabrics reeked of pot, in desperate need of a wash. You got as comfy as you could on the skunky sheets. Blinking your needy gaze up at him, you tugged his white belt, pulling the band undone. Pietro grinned lazily, colliding his swollen lips into yours. His primal instincts left him wreckless with want.
Burying his tongue in the cavern of your mouth, he brought with him the flavor of cheap booze. As you tasted him, you moaned, shucking his dumb jorts down his hips. A sizable swelling twitched in his tights, squirming under muted blue. Your eyes bulged in their sockets, cartoonishly wide. The way you whirled your tongue across your lip gave off a vibe of animalistic hunger. As though you were eager for an all dick dinner. With Pietro as the appetizer.
And the main course. And the dessert. He hoped you'd rate him five stars.
Restaurant metaphors aside; this was the very first test of his capabilities as a lover, after all. If he couldn’t live up to his superhero name, maybe he could make a name for himself in other ways.
Pietro Speed Maximoff. Quicksilver. Cunning Linguist.
But first…he really should satiate your hunger.
One, generous tug downward, and Pietro’s - or Ralph’s - slightly above average length sprang out. Bouncing in your face in mesmerizing oscillation, his cock appeared pulsating and roused. Thick veins weaved like threads through his shaft, akin to his vascular hands. His balls bulged in his tights, his jorts hanging halfway down his thighs. Pietro took his blistering cock in hand. Aching for the kind of stimulation Ralph never got, his desire painted him so flush and ruby red.
Since you looked so delighted at the sight before you; Pietro gave his cock a few strokes. He played with himself for your viewing pleasure. And as his firm grip tugged his shaft, the world pulled suddenly back. It was as though Pietro viewed life through a third person perspective. Metaphorical cameras fixed their lenses on the two of you, in an all too human position of closeness.
The weight of a cock in Pietro’s hand felt both familiar, yet weirdly foreign. Combine that with the sight of another living, breathing body below him; and his nerves buzzed uncomfortably. Frenzied in such a way that matched the quick pulsing of his heart. Focusing instead on your fluttering eyes, Pietro weaned himself out of dissociation. Your hands braced his hips, thumbs circling the fabric of his tights. The gentle gesture brought chills throughout his body. Inching forward, you teased his bobbing cock with a flick of your tongue.
Wet heat grounded him in reality. Upon racing to the forefront of his own mind; Pietro’s breath hitched with a husky groan. He held your head, massaging his fingers in your soft hair. Cute mewls spilled from your lips as you flitted your eyes shut. Swirling your tongue over his cock’s puffy head, you lapped any tearful pearls of precum. His thickness sank between your plush lips, and Pietro’s own lips parted for breath.
Of all things to happen on Halloween night, getting his dick sucked wasn’t on the docket.
Not that Pietro had any reason to complain. This? Wicked awesome. Ralph was really missing out.
You drew lazily back just to lap his balls over his tights, staining fabric with slick saliva. Rolling the tip of your tongue up the underside of his dick, you giggled in that dorkish way again. Pietro’s teeth pulled his lip as he tilted his head back. His dick twitched, throbbing while the heat of your mouth embraced him fully. He moaned, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples. You pumped his cock at the base, teasing his veins with your tongue.
Pietro’s brows turned inward. You suckled his head like you longed to guzzle anything he could give. He sank his fingers deeper through your hair, holding on tightly as he rutted his hips. With each slam of his weeping tip into your throat; he hoarsely grunted. You really did try your best, just for him. Even as tears spilled down your cheeks and your lips began to swell. Plush and puffy, circling his slick length. Pietro kicked up the speed at which he rutted.
Fighting his instincts, he was cautious enough not to choke you. Or, he wanted to be cautious. He braced his hands on both sides of your tear stained face, his arm warmer paws soft against your cheeks. Sinking his dick even deeper between your lips, he accidentally went balls deep. The wet fabric of his tights smothered your chin. You sputtered on his cock, which made your throat wring him so tight. As your tongue curled, sliding under the thrum of his veins; Pietro cursed. Playful chuckles and shameful apologies fell from his lips.
Bitter heat coated your tongue in sweltering jets, thick and explosive down your throat. Pietro’s groin twisted in a blossoming surge of pleasure. And as he ruptured your esophagus with his sticky load, he found himself that much more grounded. As if such a bombastic nut somehow tethered him to reality - securing Pietro from any further derealization.
Righteous. His first big O since Agnes blessed him with the gift of consciousness. Significantly more electrifying than any sad, jerk sesh Ralph had in the past. And since you so humbly took him like a champ - giving Pietro a most euphoric experience; he saw it fit to return the favor ASAP.
Neither Pietro - nor Ralph, it seemed - had any experience toying around with partners. But he did have a vague knowledge of how to do so. Thanks to the backlog of not-so-safe-for-work memories deep in his subconscious. Raunchy porn, mostly. Magazines. Tapes. Jesus, Ralph…why’s there so much dirty stuff in there, huh? Lots and lots of it. Pietro would have to do his own research later.
He gave you no time to prep for his oncoming nose dive. Perched on your knees, coughing and clearing your throat - you found yourself abruptly resting on your elbows. Your upper back pressed into the futon. Pietro lifted your hips, using his strength to hike your thighs over his broad shoulders. As you parted your swollen lips to protest, blinking your reddened eyes; Pietro pulled your panties to the side. He kept the soaked lace pinned under a thick thumb. Burying his lips in your cunt, he lapped up your honeyed heat.
A sudden addiction, triggered by something carnal, overtook him instantly. Pietro became hooked on your fragrant flavor, swirling your cute bud in high-speed circles. He worked your stiff clit like a microscopic joystick, flicking wet heat in a spastic whirlwind. Alternating between drawing patterns, and sucking your precious pearl hard. Pietro so easily made you squeal - even without any prior experience - until you scratched your fingernails deep into Ralph’s sheets. Kissing your cunt, he let his thirst take over, and dove deeper.
The tune of his name melting through your moans made him wish the night would last forever. A small fraction of him hoped Ralph would never take over again. If consciousness offered rewards this scrumptious, Pietro wanted to stay sentient into eternity. Not to be selfish or whatever, but he almost considered playing minion for Agnes again - if only to secure the lifespan of his psyche.
Your supple, pussy lips parted as he wormed his tongue through your slick walls. Smooth, bumpy heat squeezed the fuzzy ridges of his tongue. In milliseconds, your fluttery love gushed over his taste buds and leaked down his chin. Tears teased the edges of your eyes. You cried whines of sugary bliss. Pietro’s thumb kept your panties pinned, his other hand locked around your thigh.
He smirked into your pussy, deep chuckles burning hot on your mound. And since the position wasn’t exactly the most comfortable; he allowed you some reprieve. Pushing you past your breaking point at light speed, Pietro bashed the sopping slickness of his tongue into your clit. You trembled, shuddering through powerful waves of orgasmic intensity. White-hot flashes of light flooded your vision. Under Pietro’s zippy tongue, your sweet pussy quivered.
Totes mcgoats. If he learned anything tonight - aside from the obvious lessons in subtlety; Pietro now understood why the everyday man lost his doggone marbles over puss.
After your first release, he eased your tired body into the futon. Your back met cozy blankets, engulfed in that skunk weed scent. Before you relaxed, he edged you even longer, drawing out your pleasurable suffering. Pietro sank his fingers deep into your heat, pumping the length of them inside you. His digits curled perfectly, finding every spongy spot that made your core burst with a desire to cum again. His tongue teased your swollen nub until you grabbed at his hair. You mussed the funny looking ear things atop his head, pressing your palm into his forehead to try and push him back.
You begged him to stop. Pleading in disoriented whimpers, your noises went straight to his limp dick. A few more hot, wrathful waves of pleasure later - he finally stopped. Only after your cunt erupted in one more, wet burst. You leaked like a fountain into his lips, soaking his chin, even making a mess of his makeshift costume. More than worth it. Pietro sat up on the futon, admiring his handiwork. He wiped his mouth with one of his arm warmer paws. Your mouth fell agape as your lungs begged for air. More tears sparkled on your flushed cheeks, mirroring the twinkle of your pussy. Pretty as a rose in a rainshower.
With your sluggish arms, you gestured for Pietro to climb over you. And once he did, you pulled him into a lazy kiss without a single care. You paid no mind to the taste of your sweetness on his lips, or the scent of your musk on his chin. Sleepily blinking, you bravely asked if you could stay the night. Too tuckered out to even consider a long walk back home.
Pietro could just as easily speed you over to your place. But even at the risk of his not-wife catching him in bed with someone else - he felt too adverse to loneliness. Besides...your company brought him more delight than he ever expected of anyone. Settling into the futon, he popped on Ralph’s old TV set.
Cheers was on. Pietro snickered to himself, rolling his dark eyes.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, snuggled up against Pietro’s strong form. He’d changed clothes at some point in the night, finally foregoing the tights. Oh, and he lended you one of Ralph’s shirts too. A Grateful Dead t-shirt, of which you were very grateful. Hah, “You don’t like Cheers?”
Pietro shrugged, sipping a beer. A Busch beer. He scowled at the taste, curling his lip.
“Eh. More of a Frasier kinda guy.”
#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff x you#peter maximoff#pietro maximoff#wandavision#txt#sorry for dropping this in the main tags !!
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Femme like you - Chapter 1
Summary: You are the new tour manager for Arctic Monkeys during The Car era. You are practically the only girl in the team, also younger than the rest (27), so your skills are immediately called into question. In particular, by the frontman who is not used to being led by a woman.
Word count: 3,1k
Warning: age gap
A/N: Hi, you all!!! I'm so thrilled and excited to do this kind of stuff, but it feels like I'm making my dream come true. This series won't be very long even though I have an eye-watering number of moments I want to release in this fic, but English isn't my first language and it's pretty tough to write in it (so if you find any mistakes don't be afraid to text me and correct). I spent a lot of time to write this small opening chapter, that’s why following parts won't appear regularly, but I promise to uptade them every 2-3 weeks! They will definitely be longer that the opener😉
I read a lot of works with Alex, 'cause my addiction doesn't seem to disappear, so this idea just popped in my head and I couldn't resist. Never thought that I would be an author, not a reader in Tumblr, but voila - here I am. I really expect you to love it❤️
And yes, I know that their current tour manager is Steven Champan, but for the story I changed it slightly, hope you won't mind :)
“James, seriously?” Alex looked away in bewilderment from the bottle of Hennessy to Ford.
“More than you can imagine” producer chuckled. “I will be with my family in Scotland, I haven’t seen them in a while, and she will replace me for the UK and European parts only, it’s about one and a half months”.
Turner looked him up and down with a displeased look, still sitting on the couch with a bottle in his hands “That’s ridiculous. She has never worked with us! She will break into all our well-established processes, not knowing the specifics of the work and will only interfere. We'll make it on our own, not the first time, man, huh?” Alex decided to soften his tone a little to appease his friend and cutely knitted his eyebrows.
“Al, you are being childish. C’mon, we have already agreed on everything, she is a good specialist, don't let yourself be deceived by her appearance” Ford threw a jacket over his shoulders, silently saying that the conversation is over.
“Just because she's your friend's daughter doesn't mean she's good!” The singer spat out the last argument hoping to reach out to the conscience of their producer.
“Give her a chance, you won't be disappointed” James said mysteriously, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving the disgruntled frontman alone with his obsessive thoughts.
***
You sat in your car in the parking lot in front of the Domino Records headquarters, nervously clutching a Starbucks cup. There were still 20 minutes before the meeting, but you arrived early. All the documents had already been signed, the agreements had been discussed, but the most thrilling moment remained - the meeting with the group itself and the technical crew.
When James Ford, your father's old friend from university and at the same time music producer for Arctic Monkeys, called you several weeks ago with an unusual request, you simply didn't have a chance to refuse. You've been dreaming of working in this industry since 16, especially since you adored this group and were at their concerts six times. Being their manager for one part of the 7th album tour sounded like a fantasy, but here you are, sitting in front of their label building, where you have a meeting with the musicians. If you caught the lucky girl syndrome, then you definitely didn’t want to let it go. At least not now.
From the trance into which you plunged by shaking coffee in the cup, you were brought out by the deafening creak of tires on asphalt. You immediately snapped out and looked in the rearview mirror. An elegant Cadillac whistled and stopped 3 parking lots away from you just passing the dividing line.
You weren't stupid not to realize whose car it was. The passenger got out, slamming the door sharply. He was wearing a beige trousers and matching jacket with black vest underneath, translucent red aviators were on despite a cloudy day. Paying no attention to your car and not even bothering to close his, a man quickly walked inside the building.
You followed the door closed behind Alex Turner itself with a blank look, finished your coffee in one gulp and also got out of the car, taking your purse from the passenger seat. Having heard about his "punctuality", you assumed that everyone else had already arrived, so you walked to the building as well. "There's no point in delaying this moment, let's start early" you bravely told yourself.
The studio in southwest London wasn't as big as you expected it to be. The guard pointed you to room 14, saying that you were already awaited. Inside, the bright corridors were hung with rare photographs, including images of early Monkeys' concerts. You smiled slightly as you looked at the photos of four young people laughing with their hands in their pockets. "Nice time" you thought.
You didn't really understand why you were so inflamed. You are all adults, lads have been warned about the change in management in advance so it won’t be a surprise for them, what could be the problem? You had enough work experience to know what to do, you were excellently good-looking and successful, then why did your palms sweat? Immersed in your thoughts you didn’t notice that you had reached the end of the corridor and stopped at the half-open door, from behind which quiet voices could be heard.
“Oi, she better buy me a bottle of beer on the way, my head hurts after yesterday. Why did I come so early, gosh?”
“It's been 5 minutes since you've been here, and you've already blown my mind’’. Seemed that it was Matt.
"I prefer to come sober to meetings scheduled in advance, but for the future I will keep in mind to see you no earlier than Tuesday, Mr. Turner”. Maybe it wasn’t the best greeting phrase, but you just couldn't resist. When you entered the room with these words, 7 surprised pairs of eyes met your figure. Alex, Matt and Nick were sitting on a leather sofa in the center of the room, Jamie was pouring water into a glass at a side table, Steven was sitting in a chair talking to Ben, who was reclining on the arm of this chair, behind them was a man whose name you didn’t know.
"I'm sorry," you quickly became embarrassed, realizing how inappropriate those words sounded. Silence reigned in the room for a few seconds, but was quickly interrupted by the awkward coughing of that same unfamiliar man. "Um guys, this is your new tour manager for these two months, Y/N Y/S" He said softly enough, stepping out from behind the chair and holding out his hand for you. "I'm Marcus, James' assistant, the rest you should know".
"Yeah, right, he told me about you, I'm very glad to meet you," and carefully shifting your gaze to the others you added "everyone".
You stood in your knee-length leather boots, denim shorts and an oversized cream-colored jacket not knowing what to do with the burning eyes on your persona.
"Actually, I brought a homemade cider as an ice-breaker, it's in my trunk, so after the official part of the meeting we can try it. Not beer, but still tasty," you said with an apologetic smile, trying your last attempt to ease the conversation. The room froze in silence once again, and in this moment Matt laughed out loud, slapping his knee and throwing head back on the headboard. Jamie and Nick joined him, smiling broadly, while Ben, Steven, and Marcus chuckled hoarsely as they looked at each other. Only Alex remained frowning as he continued to scan your figure.
"I like her already! Great move, miss Y/S" Matt said, obviously being amazed.
You breathed a sigh of relief as you sat down in the chair Marcus offered you. He was noticeably younger than the others, near your age, which immediately made you sympathize with him.
"Well, when we finally got to know each other, let's get down to business. As you all know James is on an unscheduled vacation due to family circumstances. Hence we are going to work with Miss Y/S in UK and Europe festivals, while I will assist her. I know that Y/N discussed with James all the main points about dates, places and stuff, but now we have to delve into details of the organization process itself. Ben and I will explain the tech part and the lads will share their preferences" Steven began the discussion by leaning a little closer to the center of your improvised circle. He seemed to be a very wise and at the same time charismatic man. Attractive, but platonically.
“Sorry, may I interrupt before we start” It sounded more like a statement from Alex. “How old are you, once again?"
"I'm 27, Mr. Turner. And let's make it clear, since this still raises questions. Yes, I'm quite young relative to you and indeed a stranger to your team. But I've known James for a long time, as well as your work, whose main fan I have been since 18. I have been in show business for 7 years now and worked with Maneskin at the very beginning of their career. It’s not difficult for me to provide my CV if necessary, but I’m here because I sincerely want to help my father's friend and ensure that you have the most comfortable atmosphere during your stay in Europe. I have an idea what it's like to be on tour for a year, I understand how tired you are, and that you need conditions for rest and creation. So I'll let you do your job without the interference and you’ll give me freedom to do my work properly, I'm sure we both do it very well, especially since you are not the only one, Mr. Turner, who can make a show out of nothing”. At these words the drummer whistled, turning to the gloomy vocalist, but you continued “I’m really extremely happy to be a part of Arctic Monkeys team, for me this is a great opportunity to test myself and work with such big people like you. So I don't see any problems in our interaction, taking into account that I'm here temporarily.
You glanced at the men with a soft, but tenacious look, catching your breath “Didn't seem to miss anything at this point, deal?”
Steven was the first to answer, smiling paternally at you and accepting your little speech. You also noticed that Turner shook his head, but smirked to himself, which relaxed your muscles a bit. If you didn't get along from the first sentence, then at least you can establish a normal business relationship. You understood that the nature of a rock star is unpredictable, following the development of the group and the change in the image of the frontman for many years, but you couldn't imagine that he would talk so irritably to new people. Yes, he certainly behaved ugly, but you also started the dialogue with a caustic comment. Apparently, you deserve each other.
After the temperature in the room dropped and everyone took a more relaxed posture, you began to discuss current tasks. Your first gig will be in Bristol on May 29th, so you have two weeks to get ready. In fact, everything has already been done even before the start of the whole tour. Now your duty is only to coordinate the setlists with the guys for each performance, to make sure that all agreements with venues are fulfilled, the rider is completed, the equipment is working properly, the buses are ordered, the hotels have confirmed the reservation, and the whole team has arrived safe and sound. Okay, maybe it's not so little, but you're ready for any challenge. This is your passion after all.
You will ride in a separate minivan with the management team, and not with the guys, which in general wasn’t a big surprise for you, but in hotels you will be provided with a separate room, unlike the rest of the staff, who live in double suits. You didn't know what caused such generosity, but you were pleased anyway. You talked for about an hour, agreeing to meet again at the sound check in a week, and then only before leaving for Bristol. During this time you will have to study all the venues, call the transport company and confirm the details of the trips.
Your meeting ended on a positive note, the guys were asking you about your life, your education and hobbies, you said that you had been dancing professionally for many years and even took up drumming at the university, to which Matt happily promised to give you lessons, triumphant that he finally met someone who doesn't play the guitar, but the drums.
“Be careful, Matthew, if it turns out that she is more talented than you, we’ll replace you without any hesitation. She looks better” Nick joked and immediately got the middle finger in response from the drummer. Even Alex genuinely smiled, looking back at the friend.
"Oh, don't worry, it's unlikely. But as for the cider I wasn't joking, at least I'm definitely good at that"
"Wait, did you make it yourself?" surprised Ben.
"Yes, I live in the suburbs of London and have my own small garden, I make cider for friends during the season"
"You know what, I'm already tired of this stuffy room, you say it's in your trunk?" Matt, confirming his status as the most talkative member of the group, stood up impatiently, stretching his stiff limbs.
"Yes, let's go and give it a try" you said, also getting up from your chair. “Who is with us?” you raised an eyebrow in question and the answer was six men who rose to their feet.
"Definitely need a smoke” murmured Alex in addition, patting his pockets for a pack of cigarettes.
“Damn, where did James find her?” you heard Jamie's question addressed to Steven as you left the room with Matt and couldn’t hold back a short, but self-satisfied smirk. "That's not the last ace in the hole, Jamie" flashed through your head.
"I'm asking the same question" but instead of Champan, the voice was given by Alex.
"Al, will you calm down today or not? Did yesterday's booze give you such a headache?" Cook hissed almost angrily.
But you didn’t hear the answer, moving away along the corridor to the exit.
***
When all the lads came out from the studio, you and Matt had already taken a wooden case with 12 bottles of cider out of the trunk of your white Range Rover and put it on the hood. Coming closer, Alex threw a jacket over his shoulders and took out cigarettes, offering you one.
"I don't smoke, thanks," you replied calmly. He arched an eyebrow in surprise and took a pipe of tobacco between his lips. “You better start, darling” He took a quick puff, blowing smoke in your face, and looked intently from under his eyelashes. Despite the sweet name, from his lips it sounded somehow humiliating. You didn't answer, turning around and taking one of the bottles, silently passing it to him. He thanked you, and you gave each man a bottle as well. "For the new leg of the tour! Cheers!" Steven exclaimed, raising the bottle in the air and you all clinked glasses together.
The eight of you stood in the parking lot next to your car. You and Marcus leaned on the hood, Chapman nestled next to your right, and the guys were in front of you. You stayed in pleasant silence, interrupted by the chirping of birds from a nearby square and breezes of the wind that swayed your styling. Satisfied sigh followed by Marcus and Jamie, which made you laugh cutely.
"Enjoy?" you asked playfully, taking a sip.
"Y/N, that's amazing! I’ve never thought our team would feel so acutely short of a personal alcohol supplier" Jamie savored the taste, taking small sips.
"It's only 6% alcohol, I brought this one on purpose, knowing that you will most likely be driving. But there is also 12% sort in my basement, so in case of anything, you know where to find me"
"Actually not, but for the sake of such a case, we will definitely get your address from James" Nick answered cheerfully.
You spent 20 more minutes talking about the process of making an apple brew and sharing your alcohol tastes. “What a topic to discuss” you hummed to yourself. Eventually you gave Ben, Marcus, Jamie, and Matt one more bottle, promising to bring more of 12% sort to the concert, and you were about to leave when suddenly your phone rang. A dark and mystical tune played from the back pocket of your shorts.
"Woah, that’s pretty old one" Alex said with unexpected liveliness.
"One of my favorites from yours" you replied quickly, pulling out the device. It was James. You decided to call him back when you would be alone, so you dropped the call, texting him that you would call back later.
"Hey Al, we haven't played it in a while. What do you think, mate?" Matt asked conspiratorially, giving him a little nudge on the shoulder.
"We’ll see, I think it's possible. NME will especially rejoice at this, still considering it insanely vulgar" the singer rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling.
"Isn't that right, Mr. Turner? Whose propeller is it then?" you grinned as you took an empty box and returned it to the trunk of the jeep.
"Miss Y/S, don't make me doubt your foresight as well" to your surprise, he came over to help you close the tailgate. You dusted your hands and shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, being locked between the car and the frontman. You could literally see wrinkles around his eyes and cider-wet lips that now were gently stirring.
"Who called?" the man asked more quietly than usual. "Uh, James, I think I should call him as soon as possible"
"Yeah, most likely" Turner reluctantly backed away from you, letting you through, and you walked to the driver's door.
"Well, guys, I was very glad to see you, I'm sure fruitful work awaits us!" you smiled reassuringly, swaying from heel to toe from jitters and excitement from upcoming events.
"See you in a bit, Miss Y/S, I will send you all our numbers and other necessary contacts tonight. Sleep enough these days, you will soon miss it" Steven winked and extended his hand to you for a handshake, so you answered him willingly.
“Goodbye, guys, see ya!” you only waved at other lads as you climbed onto the running board and sat inside the car. The Rover started with a pleasant growl, vibrating under your hands. You drove off, leaving the men in the parking lot, but noticing one fixed look of chocolate eyes in the rearview mirror. You attributed the recognition of the color of his eyes to a million views of concert photos on the Internet, but not to those few seconds near the trunk when you smelled his cigarette breath on your face.
That will be a roller-coaster indeed
---------------------------------------------------
A/N: Please, let me know what do you think about this duo, what are you expecting from them, what do you want to read in the next chapter? Let's get to know each other better in comments - how long are you in fandom, what are your favorite type of fics and etc? Your feedback is my force to write, love you and stay tuned - a big adventure is going to happen 🤭❣️
I also publish the work on AO3:
#alex turner#arctic monkeys#alex turner imagine#alex turner fanfic#alex turner fic#alex turner x reader#alex turner x y/n#alex turner x you#am7 tour#the car#the car era#am7 era#matt helders#miles kane#jamie cook#nick o malley#alex turner fanfiction#femme like you fanfic
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I need to rant, sorry in advance
Ok so I have been a bit obsessed with Epic the musical by Jorge Rivera-Herrans. For anyone who doesn't know it's still in the making with 4 concept albums out and follows the story of the Odyssey. This rant is about his most recent album, the Circe Saga.
So. I love these songs, they're all really amazing and I really recommend people check it out if they've not listened to it before but I especially like imagining how they'd be performed on a stage, the acting and blocking behind the lyrics, which is what has me fixated on the last two songs in the Circe Saga "Done for" and "There are other ways" because the way the power dynamics shift back and forth between Circe and Odysseus leads to some pretty fun blocking.
Considering you hear lion roars in the track emphasising some of Circe's lines, you can imagine her being pretty imposing when the odds are in her favour. Meanwhile Odysseus has always been cunning, hiding his advantage for the first part of the song, he's allowing her to impose on him so there's a lot of back and forth both in the song and in the actual blocking.
I can't tell this rant to anyone I know because this isn't their type of thing so I'm taking it to Tumblr and maybe some of you will actually like it.
A little context to the scene in my head just so you know where some things are in the room that are relevant. There's a table in the centre of the room. This would have been the table Odysseus' men had ate at before they were turned to pigs. The food is gone and the table has new placements set awaiting another meal. To the far right of the stage, a lounge chair that Circe is sitting on at the start of the song, pointing out at a possible veranda or something with a small table beside it.
So, the blocking in my head, as well as a bit of thought tracking, following the lyrics of the song goes as follows:
Odysseus enters from the opposite side of the stage, having to cross the room and past the table. He never approaches farther than halfway between the table and Circe.
"Lady of the palace, sorry that I ask this..." - This entire start of the song is a ruse. Odysseus is under no impression that this is a misunderstanding. He's purposefully playing up the innocence to keep Circe off guard.
Circe is initially fooled, having easily tricked her last visitors. She's not worried or threatened so remains in her seat looking away from Odysseus. Her hands are busy, I'm imagining a wine glass in one hand and maybe she's petting a lion with the other hand or something.
"Did you do something to them?" Odysseus plays up the innocence and unsureness, letting himself appear weak, stopping his approach here before he gets too close to Circe.
"Who me? All I did was reveal their true forms." Circe mocks Odysseus' innocence, still not looking at him or moving.
"You turned them into pigs." This line from the track sounds like he's in awe, almost like he's unaware such magic exists so likely more ruse to keep Circe off guard.
"Ha." Circe puts down her wine glass and stands up, finally turning to him.
"I don't know who you are nor why you're here..." Circe approaches Odysseus, holding all the power in this scene as she backs him up to the table.
"I've got people to protect, nymphs I can't neglect, so I'm not taking chances dear." Odysseus' lower back hits the table behind him and she closes the gap. I see Circe as a rather tall woman, at least a little taller than Odysseus so she's able to tower over him here.
"If you make one wrong move then you're done for..." she boxes him in with her hands on either side of him, making him lean back against the table. During her chorus, she's very predatory, leering and appraising him like a cat playing with prey. Odysseus' face is stoic.
"I don't mean to tip your scales..." Odysseus' face breaks into a smug smile and he straightens up. Circe stops leaning over him and her arms drop from boxing him in.
"You must be a liar, mortals can't acquire moly without dire consequence." She stands back a little now, looking at him with suspicion. She's not threatened yet but her guard is going up.
"Then I must be a god like you cus I got this root from the ground with my bare hands." Odysseus playing up his confidence in hopes of bringing Circe off guard again and making her think he's more cocky than he is.
"Hermes gave it to you, didn't he?" Circe's having none of the act.
"Alright, yes, fine, but regardless." Odysseus also drops the act.
"You and I are now evenly matched. Our fates are intertwined they're attached." He draws his sword and points it at Circe's neck. She's stepped back so she's a full sword length away from him, putting her in the exact opposite position than she was at the start of the song.
"I have people to protect, friends I can't neglect." Odysseus starts backing Circe up. Circe is backing away but specifically, she's backing towards her chair where her staff is.
"So now there is no turning back." Both pause for this line.
"You've made your one wrong move-" Circe darts for her staff, using it to counter Odysseus' blade. "-now you're done for."
This chorus, the pair are fighting with each other with their weapons but also with their magic. I know in Jorge's idea of the scene, Odysseus conjures a cyclops to defeat Circe's monster (I can't remember what it is) so in my vision, a cyclops and lion monster are fighting with each other in the background while Odysseus and Circe fight in the foreground, their moves being somewhat mirrored by their creatures.
When the cyclops overpowers the lion, Odysseus has disarmed Circe. He's not flush to her with the sword under her chin, more standing with the tip of his blade at her neck so he's a sword's length away, sword poised and gaze sharp and calculating.
"You've lost." He can't kill her yet, he needs her to change his men back.
"My nymphs are like my daughters..." It's Circe's turn to start acting. Her face softens to garner sympathy.
"But everyone's true colours are revealed in acts of lust." Her face morphs into a suggestive look.
"I'm not sure I follow." Odysseus tenses up here, maybe knowing what's to come.
In this song, though there's a lot of sensual touching, all of it is very purposeful for Circe. In this song, it's not about seducing him, it's about distracting him until she can get the upper hand.
"There are other ways of persuasion, there are other modes of control. There are other means of deceit, there are other roads to the soul." Sensual touching starts on the blade, a finger moving down it, gently nudging it away from her throat, by the end of this line, she'll had reached his wrist and fully pointed the blade away from her.
"There are other actions of passion." She's taken steps to close the gap between them, hand moving up his arm and to his face, directing him to stare at her face.
"You have so much left to learn, want to save your men from the fire, show me you are willing to burn." She's circling him closely, once on the other side of him, she's within reach of the table.
When they start to harmonise their songs, Circe directs Odysseus closer to the table using the hand on his face, cupping the back of his neck so she can bring him with her as she backs towards the table, getting close enough to take a knife from the table placements. Odysseus tries to shy away from her seduction but every time he tries to look away, she has him look back with the hand on his cheek or chin to ensure he can't see what she's doing.
"There is so much power, so much power, but there's no puppet here." She slips out between him and the table, going behind him, hiding the knife behind her while she continues to sing in his ear.
As they harmonise again, she keeps up the sensual touching, keeping him looking at her as she appears at his other shoulder again, now backing him up against the table.
"There's no puppet here." "Forgive me." At this harmonisation, Circe has her arms around his neck, knife behind him, poised to stab him.
"I can't!" Odysseus pushes her away and she's so surprised that she actually stumbles. She quickly hides her knife at her side.
"Back at home my wife awaits for me..." At this point, Odysseus is genuinely pleading with Circe, knowing he needs to appeal to her in order to get her to willingly turn his men back. This is a moment he shows her real vulnerability.
"So I beg you, Circe, grant us mercy, and let us puppets leave." Circe has turned away by now to hide as her face softens. Her shoulders drop.
"Poseidon, ey?" She relaxes, setting her knife down on the small table beside her chair.
"There might be a way to evade him, there might be a way to get home..." She turns back to him, eyes calculating but not hostile.
"I can't get you home but I'll get you to the underworld instead..." She's closing the gap again but now not stepping into his personal space, just really standing at a comfortable distance for conversation.
"Wait, you're helping us?" Odysseus steps forward, surprised but tension releases in his shoulders.
"There are many ways of persuasion..." Circe moving away as she sings the last of her lines.
"Maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more." She walks to Odysseus again.
"Or maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer more." She passes behind him as she holds out her last note.
Sorry again for this, I just wanted to write this down somewhere and see if anyone wants to read it.
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