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satoruhour · 9 months

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HE PLAYS BASS !

a/n: modern au bc i cant handle any angst rn. i ramble a lot in this to set the scene teehee. not beta read, gn btw / tagging @crysugu @slttygeto @getousex :3

wc: 3k ish

warnings: bass guitarist!geto, soft dom!geto, he is respectful of your boundaries, both geto and reader smoke weed, shotgun kiss, sexual acts under the influence, fingering, clit stimulation, implied second round, implied cunnilingus, dry humping, praise, n*sfw under the cut

bass guitarist!geto who has had an interest in music and its instruments since being a little boy, practically begging his parents to enrol him in some guitar classes. with fingers strumming the nylon strings alongside complicated chords on the frets felt so right that since then he and his guitar have been inseparable since.

bass guitarist!geto who gets to know the guitar so well that he masters guitar solo after guitar solo, playing songs by ear in his free time and thought lead guitar was all there was to music until the age of fifteen where he stumbles across a song with a bass line that sounded absolutely heavenly — through the 240p quality of the youtube video, he watched the bassist dish out the heavy beats, always in the background yet detrimental to making the band sound complete.

bass guitarist!geto who leaped at the opportunity to buy a bass guitar with whatever money he had to purchase a Squier bass — it was a little shitty in sound but it was cheap, something affordable for a middle schooler. suguru didn’t care. he perfected the use of his bass guitar, already having the basics down from playing guitar; his room is filled with posters, picks, pieces of displaced lyrics.

bass guitarist!geto only has the chance two years later to ask his new friends if they wanted to jam out together and down the line, if they wanted to form a band. it was a clueless band of boys (with shoko of course) in some room of gojo satoru’s luxury house where his parents don’t care to ask him to keep the noise down like suguru’s parents do.

bass guitarist!geto fights to get a spot to audition for one of tokyo’s biggest music festivals a few months later. if they won they would get more recognition, more support, even if they haven’t figured out the specifics of how to operate a band. with gojo as the singer, shoko on the lead and nanami on drums, they would find out what they had.

bass guitarist!geto who breaks that stereotype of the bassist being ignored throughout a performance. he thinks it could be because of his longer hair and his newly bought gauges, and he thought he didn’t look too shabby himself — although he isn’t surprised to see most of the girls fawn over gojo as he sang lyrics of an original song, courtesy of the joint effort between geto and shoko.

bass guitarist!geto who gives judges the finger after they said they couldn’t perform originals at an audition, blacklisting them for future performances — but gojo sees it as a win when he has a hoard of new fans waiting outside to get a photo with him with autographs that differed from each paper his pen made contact with. later, he bursts out laughing when gojo says he hadn’t even thought of a proper signature yet and just ‘did whatever on their paper’.

bass guitarist!geto whose band gained popularity fast because of everyone’s good looks, singing at that same place they auditioned at, but now with repertoire under their belt. it’s then that they’re already all in university, and yet everyone’s still incredibly passionate.

bass guitarist!geto who spots you in the crowd together with your friends, jamming out to their set, but while your friends’ eyes are locked on gojo who’s loving the attention, nanami who can’t give a shit and shoko who’s too focused on her solo, you manage to draw geto’s eyes to you. he spends the rest of the set locking eyes with you, amidst other things like sending you winks and licking his lips until you’re under his spell. all throughout he doesn’t lose the rhythm, but he does slip-up from time to time and there’s a panicked look that nanami sends to geto for messing up his rhythm.

bass guitarist!geto who sees you at his next show alone, smiling up at him right at the front row while he’s trying not to mess up after the last time. this time he has a chance to show you what he’s got in a bass solo, losing himself in the music until even you fades off and you’re truly seeing the bassist for who he is. he’s easing back into the main melody of the song but not before leaning over the speakers with a knee on the floor, hovering right over you before shoko takes over and he’s back to his heavy beats.

bass guitarist!geto who brushes off the teasing after the set ends, only to be bombarded with more of it when he sees you on campus — no way you’re in the same school as him, walking around with your cute outfits and laughing along to your friend’s joke with no care in the world.

bass guitarist!geto who doesn’t have much trouble charming you into hanging out with him, already recognising him from far away when he’s got his long flowy hair and gauges and tight black shirt and tall stature — you aren’t realising he’s asking you if it’ll be okay for you to head over to his dorm room. you’re getting pushed by your friends behind you to say yes with giggles and gossip, and of course you weren’t going to reject the hot guy you missed class and ditched friends for.

bass guitarist!geto who shows you his room and tells you to let him know if he’s made you uncomfortable in any way. in the background, there’s a faded, soft song that continues to play that really completes the dorm, immediately hitting it off until he starts to roll a joint a while later, offering it to you with a raise of his eyebrow.

“oh— n-no it’s fine, geto-san, i don’t really smoke…” you sheepishly turn down the weed, settling instead to watch him and his beautiful side profile, letting him explain to you about bands and guitar and chords.

“thank you for having me, geto-san,” bowing, you’re nothing like the person in the bar that day, geto thinks it’s the lack of alcohol but he doesn’t mind, simply leaning on the doorframe as he nods down at you. his smile is intoxicating and so goddamn attractive you would’ve buckled to your knees if not for the deep breaths you were taking.

“next time, pretty?” geto smiles, a little high from smoking. his eyes are lidded (they usually are anyway) and smile lopsided. his hair’s almost out of the bun.

“yeah, next time,” it sounded so breathy, you bit your lip. “i guess you’d have to find me on campus, though.”

bass guitarist!geto who mutters how you’re a little tease to himself later when he closes the door. he swears to himself he’d get your number next time, but it’s not difficult to find you the next time, hanging around the same place at the same time. it’s like you wanted him to find you — he’s not opposed to it. it’s a few weeks down the road now, and the second time is watching him curiously as he smokes, too. you take a hit and embarrass yourself completely in front of him though, and while you’re fighting for your life, you’re not opposed to the buzz it gives you.

bass guitarist!geto who’s opening the door to you the next time, surprised to see your dishevelled state and a pillow between your arms, walking almost a block like this to the next building where his dorm was. he offers to make you some tea and you shake your head, feeling a pounding headache already coming on just from explaining that your roommate was an asshole.

“you can sleep here if you want to, okay?” you sigh, thanking him immensely because even after knowing him for such a short period of time, you’re comforted by his presence.

“at least satoru’s not here,” you laugh at that, nodding tiredly before you’re settling on gojo’s bed after insistence from the other. he wouldn’t care, he’s always going back home anyway, don’t know why he wanted to share a room with me. but before you can get settled in, you hear the familiar crinkling of the paper and the click of the lighter and the smell of weed fills the room again.

again, his hand is outstretched, holding an ashtray below him as the tip of joint glows a red, calling out to you yet reminding you of the way you coughed the other night.

you crawl off his roommate’s bed, snatching the cig out of his hand in a way to prove something to yourself before taking a big puff. this time you’re better, letting the drug flow through your system, but tolerance is another thing, because it only takes another hit for you to be smiling drowsily at the other while geto is a little high, too, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your hand traces over his arms and you giggle.

“you w’nna kiss?” geto asks quietly, a little soberly, having talked late into the night while you hang off his arm and slur your words. but now you know you’re feeling a little more sensible when you can feel your heart pound and your eyes widen despite their need to close.

“i meant it, doll. you’re fuckin’ stunning,” suguru mumbles, the coldness of his rings sending a chill down your body, but also a spark to your core, “you look exactly like the day i discovered bass.” and it’s like cupid fully shoots his arrow through your heart — because have you heard the man play? you’re speechless at his point, only mustering a nod before you’re leaning in.

he hums drunkenly as a way to ask you to wait a min, manoeuvring you onto his lap before he’s taking the almost vanishing joint into his hands. two more puffs are perfect for the cigarette to be discarded and so with a gentle hand, he holds onto your nape while he tries not to get hard from having you on his lap. slowly, your lips wrap around the other end of the joint, taking in another influx of the drug before he does too.

bass guitarist!geto who pulls you towards his lips a little roughly but he doesn’t give you what you want (what he has in mind is much, much better), rather leaving his lips ajar as he exhales the smoke from his mouth into yours, your own smoke already dissipating. weirdly, this burn is more prominent, probably because all you can focus on are suguru’s dazed eyes and the way they burn through your skull. you inhale the smoke before you feel his soft lips on yours.

geto hums into your lips, coming off of them periodically to allow the smoke to disperse, but the moment is so intimate and hot that you blow away the smoke and lunge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

“no more pullin’ away, geto-san…” you’re trailing off, words messily whispered against his lips and you burn at the chuckle he sounds out, muttering back a question of consent. you’re nodding, reeling at the speed at which he places his hands on your thighs, dragging you further up his front until you rested on his pelvis.

“kissing me like you can’t breathe and you’re still calling me by my last name? i’m wounded.” geto pulls away and defies your rule — you think he’s the only one who can do that. pouting, suguru pushes away the hair enclosing your face. “c’mon, drink, sober up a little.”

“...i like it like this,” you murmur, ashamed as to how readily you leaned into his touch. his stare is piercing though, not budging until you’re gulping down half the cup.

“throats turn dry when we smoke, princess. we can do it more when you’re more used to it, alright?” geto explains, patting your thigh and ignoring the tensing of them around his own. he’s trying so hard to act nonchalant, but he can’t get the image of you parting your lips for the smoke out of his head. the way your eyes flutter close, how you wanted more of him.

“alright… suguru,” you sigh out the name and geto wishes he could hear it somewhere else, “but can we—” the high is getting to you, making your hormones go into a frenzy and you’re grinding on his lap. geto hisses at the feeling, of your cunt brushing against his bulge. your hips are inexperienced, but you’re going by feel, drawing little circles and moving back and forth; whatever that brings you pleasure.

“baby— f-fuck…” geto swears when you pair it with the lips tha kiss down his cheek and jaw and neck, hands on your hips guiding you as you try to chase your high. but a whine from you draws geto out of his daze and he almost cums hearing your needy voice, begging him for something, anything.

“’m tired, suguru,”

he knows, grinding is a tiring thing, so rather he opts for you to lie on him with your back to his chest. by now, the room’s filled with the smell of weed and arousal, asking once again if he could take off your pyjama shorts. geto smiles at the lack of underwear but he says nothing, eyes latched onto the strings of juices that connect your pussy to the shorts.

“my baby ready to be touched?” he feels you nod, loving the way your stomach contracts and expands at the hand that travels over your clothed tits. there, he squeezes them, rubbing fingers over the hardened nub but soon creeps towards your centre. his hand and fingers are so much larger than yours, covering your whole core easily when he cups it and the contact is enough to make you mewl.

“hurry,” your hips hump the air.

“patience, darling,” geto’s gravelly voice cuts through to your ear before he finally draws languid circles upon your clit, rubbing and pressing on your bundle of nerves. his whole body burns from seeing you react so cutely, all cause your eyes couldn’t leave his on that stage. now your eyes were rolling up and over, little moans leaving your lips just from his hands.

bass guitarist!geto who seems to know all your pleasure points in one night, kissing the spot under your ear, to talking you through your orgasm. you were enamoured by the guitarist that you’d let him do anything to you, obsessed with the way he never missed questions of ��is this okay?” and “tell me to stop”. geto is just as besotted by you, the arch of your back, the call of his name. god, he was going to write so many songs about you.

“think you can handle a finger, baby?” suguru whispers, caressing your twitching thighs from your first orgasm. with a shaky “yes”, geto plays with your hole, smearing your juices around your sex and getting it all on your thighs. the bashful suguruuu! has him laughing, taking your lips into another kiss as an apology.

“sorry, sweetheart. love teasin’ ya,” muffled words are said, “goin’ in.”

your jaw drops even more when geto first inserts a finger, so much wider and longer that a long moan escapes you. the stretch is so good, everything you’ve ever imagined after watching his fingers travel over the bass strings, and you’re already asking for a second finger. when he does oblige, your hands fly to grab at his wrist.

“feel good?” he chuckles at your lack of an answer, rather responding by clenching around his fingers and leaning back more into his hold. geto sets a pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. he thinks it’s enough of staring at you and almost gets whiplash when his head turns to his hand — from the way he disappears into your dripping cunt, he thinks he’ll cum untouched, although your desperate hips also would play a part.

“feel s’good, suguru— shit…” geto groans lowly into your ear when he feels your hand replicating the circles he’s made on your clit, juices starting to collect in his palm from how wet you were.

“you keep clenchin’ around me, baby, you w’nna cum?”

your body is more vocal than your voice, twisting and thrashing from how his fingers already feel so good. the haze and the smell of geto suguru and the weed in your system is all overloading on you at the moment, but in between you’re able to nod, fingers rubbing at your clit while geto’s speed picks up a little.

your legs naturally spread, each slap of his palm against your pussy paired with the lewd noises only making the whole thing better. it’s not long before you feel that familiar feeling, using your right hand to direct him to you once more and it’s here you see the man you saw on stage before: focused, flushed, small smirk on his face. “gonna cum.”

“yeah? are you?” geto asks against your lips, still tasting the faint aroma of the joint. your eyes are so heavy and your limbs feel like lead; it’s a wonder how both your hands are moving on your soaking wet pussy.

“yeah, sugu, s’sensitive—!” geto coos softly at your whimpers before capturing your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and your orgasm comes crashing down on you. suguru effectively swallows your moans, groaning on his own end when he can feel your cum running down his hand. slowly, he lets you ride through your orgasm, pressing pecks on your skin and shoulders.

“attagirl. so much cum, hm?” your chest is heaving, whining when he removes his fingers and there’s a cute little squelch from the juices, gasping softly as geto separates his fingers and there’s strings connecting his middle to ring finger. “dirty girl.”

you scoff softly with a smile, eyes following how his fingers make his way into his mouth. the other only hums before carrying you bridal style to the shower with a sweet smile on his face. geto suguru was certain he’d worship you.

“gotta taste that cute little pussy next time.”

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luffyvace · 3 months

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MORE LUFFY RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Yeahhh!!! Luffy hcs we’re what my first ever hcs were about! Look how far I’ve come! I love Luffy and I’m so proud of myself! enjoy these Luffy hcs lovely readers <3

Bathing together is SUPER FUN

and messy

you have lots (too many) bubbles

and yes bath toys

even stuff that’s not supposed to be in the bath-

like sticks-

let him tell it they’re swords

he personally doesn’t bathe bc he doesn’t care

even if its mandatory seeing as though no one wants to smell all that funk 😀

so he canonly bathes once a week right??

with you !! He can bathe at any time!

why? Cuz it’s funn 😆😆

you turn it into a game! an adventure!

so now he looks forward to bath time ;3

luffy splashes water everywhere

I wouldn’t be surprised if the ceiling is drenched with that dude’s strength 😂🤦‍♀️

it takes you FOREVER to clean up

but you know what takes even longer?? GETTING HIM OUT THE BATH

”AWWW but we were having sooo much FUUUUN (NAAAAAME)”

actually it did take a long time til you found a cheat code 😋

tell him sanji’s making food!!

ez way to get him out 😎

The final boss tho??

is getting him to help out with cleaning the mess up

especially after you told him there’s food around🧍‍♀️

Now bro’s DEFINITELY not listening 🙉

unless you use another cheat code (saying you’ll tell sanji not to give him any meat til he helps clean up)

your not getting any help buddy..

he’s already gone by the time you get him out the bath 🤷‍♀️

but again! If you use cheat code no.2 you can get him to help :)

which leads me to…!

Cleaning together !!

which turns into a game too :P

well, more like a competition-

Because that’s the only way you’ll keep him from getting bored and complaining instead of actually cleaning

even with meat on the line 🤭

‘it’s just so boriiiiiiiing ☹️‘

- according to luffy

so yes! You propose a competition!

and whoever cleans the fastest wins the prize of…….you guessed it! MEAT!

now he’s up like a whirlwind, swiping up all the soap with a towel and water with tissue 😏

you probably don’t even have to do anything anymore 😜

he may have won the battle but you won the war

eating together can also sometimes be a competition

now you can win by playing it smart like Uta

or just agree so he can leave you to eat, without actually trying

but if it’s not a competition…it’s certainly a war..

and I mean the dangerous one every straw hat goes through each time sanji calls in for food..

Luffy stealing your food!!!

😦😦

no but seriously, not even you, Luffy’s s/o gets the benefit of the doubt⁉️

it’s every man for himself in the dining room 😂😂

if your intelligent, depending on if your more like Robin or Nami you’ll either be unbothered about his antics or super annoyed

with being unbothered you’ll have a lot more peace of mind

and luffy will probably get away with more of his tomfoolery because you put up with him 😆👍

however with a s/o more like nami who gets annoyed easily, yeah he’s not getting away with any of that

thankfully for her, nami has less to stress over now (you take 50% it’s a requirement)

If your more carefree like luffy

i can guarantee you’ve got on like every straw hats nerves at least once

oddly enough I have a feeling you haven’t been able to bother brook just yet

dude’s 90 he got bigger problems..

but yes you terrorize everyone (even outside the straw hats) whether it’s intentional or not

if your strong it’s a relief for luffy not to have to worry about you and he’ll send you to defeat some guys, protect the ship or protect one of your weaker Nakama

he highly believes in you and your capabilities likes he believes in Zoro 👍

he also doesn’t have to worry about strong attacks hurting you as badly or if you go off on your own/get lost or separated or smth

especially as his s/o

if your weak he probably worries about you a little bit more but all the straw hats can handle themselves to some sort of extent

and he knows for sure you won’t go down without a fight!

and that you can at least hold over until he gets there

then he’ll beat the crap outta those guys!

he always tells someone strong to go with you to fights or what might be dangerous

if he doesn’t have to be somewhere for some reason, he’ll go himself!

he just wants to know your safe :)

Luffy loves you because your you! and he really just appreciates that fact in itself.

he looks past physical appearances completely and goes straight for personality

and even then he doesn’t judge that!

point is, no matter what type of anything you are, Luffy loves you because he just does.

he gets a funny feeling in his stomach and he gets extra excited!

Luffy loves you.

He simply does.

and there’s no explaining why.

These were short but sweet<3

to which i hope you enjoyed them💗

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opal-owl-flight · 1 month

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Thinking of Agent 4 and how she lost faith in herself.

more deets under the cut!

I saw a comment somewhere that this bitch is very diligent in college so what if after Octo Valley she went back to her normal life. And as such became just another face in the crowd

I feel like as the workload got heavier and heavier, that confidence started to wane. Damn was she brilliant at first but now shes flailing

She takes a break, and decides to come visit base. See some old friends.

Theyve already moved on. Apparently not needed anymore, turns out.

The spankin new Agent 3 is leagues more capable of things than she is. This goblin fought a giant bear??? In space??? Beat the octo king like its nothing?? (She likely didnt have the context of Octavio not having Zapfish power.)

"Huh? Agent 4? Whos that? The one thats supposed to be a big-shot?"

She had the potential to be great, but she wasnt up to par with expectations. Thats all she was. *Potential.* Cant match up to any of the greats -- she isnt even gonna try to compare herself to the legendary Captain, or the scrappy Eight.

Damn. The least remarkable of the platoon. No wonder everyone left her behind.

Tldr.....uh..... 4 decided to pursue a degree and in the process drifted away from the platoon. After struggling in college she decides to go back to them for a bit

Shes already carrying that disappointment for herself from her academic struggles, seeing these new agents (+ promoted Cap3) made that impostor syndrome worse, I think

She *was* great, but I suppose she herself forgot. And with how easy she won the fight everyone thought that maybe that mission wasnt so hard after all.

As the years went by, everyone including herself thought that that mission was just a cakewalk. (EDIT: or at least, thats what she thought everyone was thinking. Isolation and high stress will do that to you!)

Its like.... this activity was indeed hard but it looked so easy when they did it. And then everyone expects them to keep growing. Young genius becoming an einstein

at least, Marina saw that shes worth having around as security in Memverse...even if Pearl doesnt think that shes good enough. (Shes judging her from the way she presented herself. With such low confidence, how can you be good at anything???)

And what if the reason she was so easily dragged under enough for both a palette to be made from her soul, AND create Intensifying Harmony, is bc she agreed with Order on certain aspects

"I will make you perfect. Just like before. And you will stay perfect forever."

"Go on, then. Please. Save me."

#these notes are UNEDITED FORGIVE ME #how much of this is projection idk #splatoon #splatoon fanart #agent 4 #side order #splatoon 2 #neo agent 3 #opal owl’s nest

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gojosatorailme · 1 year

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How Lookism characters would eat you out

- Daniel, vasco, zack, gun, goo, Dg

Daniel Park

He’s a virgin. Cant expect much homie

I’d expect him to be a quick learner so he’d look at you throughout it, very experimental with it

Soft kitten licks soft kitten licks soft kitten licks.

Oh? You like it here instead? Okay! He’ll go crazy 💯

Id see him as quite shy and nervous as he wouldn’t know what he’s doing though he’d get more comfortable and confident with reassuring words!

As he gets more used to it you’ll be in tears

Soft and sensual licks, his face buried inside you flicking his tongue the way he knows drives you crazy

UI Daniel on the other hand… a menace. Absolute menace.

Forget walking bby you’ll forget how to think all together

Goodluck soldier

Vasco

I LOVE VASCO

WHYRE HIS BONKERS SO FUCKING HUGE????

He’s so cute I feel like he’d be so dumb and lick the left flap

Like I KNOW he’d do smt wrong by accident bc the poor guys just so confused

Somehow has a charm to him like somehow

Maybe it’s bc his milkers are so large you get delusional or maybe it’s bc his abs are all sweaty and he looks hot but theres SOME CHARM THERE

Vascos so cute

Would put your release before his like it’s a priority he’d put the burn knuckles on the line for it

Wants to make you feel good so teach him the way and he’d do wonders

Zack Lee

Stop joking honey hes a taken man

Keep scrolling home wrecker 🤬🤬

joking he’s also in the virgin gang ^^

Whole worrywart

He’d ask if he’s doing this right, if you feel good, or literally anything

I see him as a body worshipper or like he’d be into praise

Pls tell him he’s doing a good job

Very sweet I love zack

Still a taken man tho keep scrolling boo 😒

Gun

Would he even eat you out or would he get straight to pounding your brains out let’s think for a second

Have a strong feeling he’d be so aggressive

Strong and power licks. Like not even kidding

Have you seen his body maybe he does tongue workouts too u never know??

You want him to go slower? He’ll go faster. You want him to go faster? He’ll go slower. You want him eat you out at all? He’ll dip.

He’s such a menace for what

yk how he takes glasses off during fights? He does it while eating u out and I find it so oddly hilarious

Imagine he outs the glasses on and somehow gets turned on by it GOODBYE

Slaps ur genital area?? He’s mean. He’s just mean.

This is supposed to be like nsfw but it’s a parody atp I feel like gun was such a leash kid it’s so funny HE PROBS BIT A TEACHER IM FALLING IT IDK

He’ll go feral on u 💯 dick in or tongue in idc he’s a beast

He’d degrade u Roo like calling u a little slut for being turned on by how mean he’s being with u

Goo

HES JUST LIKE GUN BUT MORE GOOFY??

WOULD HE EVEN EAT U OUT FOR FREE?

Better get the bag before u think abt getting his tongue

u silly thing

He’d laugh idk and the vibrations would make your eyes roll back and ur all shivering

Would lick the left flap. But on purpose.

Teases u on purpose hes just so mean

he would listen to u either like no going fast hed go slow no going slow her go fast HES JUST LIKE GUN MF

Dg/James Lee

……….

Theres a lot to say but a lot not to say.

Eye contact. Mega eye contact.

Him as James Lee? A menace. I mean it’s already Canon that he’s a menace so why do u think he won’t be one in the bedroom?

ur so silly!

He’s James Lee the living legend of the first gen that’s know to be the best at literally every fucking thing HE WON POETRY LIKE MAD RESPECT IM SO BAD AT POETRY

If he’s good at everything he’s probably a god in the bedroom

ITS ALSO CANON HE HAS A BIG DICK

Maybe I’m biased and I love James but. Yeah.

You’ll be screaming, crying, fucked out, and all but keep going u got this!

him as DG however…

The same. Literally the same.

Both would be such a tease.

Also part of the mean group those little fuckers

He’s so unexpected to like could he giving u small kitten licks one second and the next his tongue is faster than flash like in being so fr

To conclude, he’s a god in the bedroom and I’d like to experience it first han-

The sex legend

#dg x reader #james lee lookism #dg lookism x reader #lookism #daniel park #lee jihoon lookism #lookism x reader #zack lee #daniel park x reader #zack lee x reader #vasco x reader #burn knuckles #gun lookism #goo lookism #euntae lee #gun park #gun park x reader #smut

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chakoru · 1 year

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I DISAGREE . ㅤ ☆nct dream

the small little silly things you fight over as a couple

a very short drabble bc i miss them

ㅤ

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ᶻᶻᶻ〜（ゝ。∂）

ㅤ

markৎ

he tries his best to quietly walk up behind you and after succeeding, he slowly places his dirty dish beside you as you stand over the sink

you stop the water to look at him, “seriously mark?”

“well, i mean, you’re already doing it..”

ㅤ

renjunৎ

“move” he says as he pushes your feet off the couch

“what the hell?” you complained

“this is my side of the couch” he didn’t even spare you so much as a glance as he grabbed the remote and searched through channels.

ㅤ

jenoৎ

“nooooo” he whined dragging out the ‘o’

“what do you mean, ‘nooo’“ you mimicked him, giving him the nastiest look.

“why do we always have to get your oreos, why can’t we get this new cookies and creme oreo” he was practically drooling as he held it in his hand.

is he stupid? you thought, “maybe because.. its already cookies and creme, idiot.”

“oh, you’re right”

ㅤ

haechanৎ

haechan groaned, moaned and screamed altogether when your 6am alarm went off, “come on y/n?!”

“what?” you mumbled out groggily, you barely even heard the alarm, only waking because you heard him whining.

“i literally just went to bed, why do you even wake up this early-” he pauses to look out the window, “it’s barely even morning!” he shouts out as he turns back at you pointing at the lack of sunlight.

“the clock says otherwise”

“it’s still dark!”

“it’s not my fault you stay up all night doing whatever.” you complain back as you head for the bathroom. after he doesn’t answer you figure you won this arument and move the subject along. “what should we do today? i was thinking breakfast at that new diner and maybe catching a mov..”

he’s sleeping.

ㅤ

jaeminৎ

“i need to pee” he said on the other side of the bathroom door

“hold it” you replied as you rinsed out your hair

“i still don’t get why you lock the door, you act like im gonna hound you at any moment” he groaned out, leaning his forehead on the door.

“because you are!”

“i just gotta pee! let me innnn”

ㅤ

chenleৎ

he just got home. when he left there wasn’t this many plushies on the bed, “y/n” he calls out

“yes?” you peeked your head into the bedroom with a sly smile on your face

“what- when.. why?” he stammered gesturing towards the insane number of stuffed animals on your shared bed, looking between them and you

“the more the merrier” you simply replied out

he excused it that night simply because he was too tired.

a few days later, there’s more.

“hi babe, how was work?” you asked as you sat on your bed, back on the headboard. practically drowning in stuffing.

he doesn’t answer, instead grabs a pillow, blanket , and walks away. you obviously follow him, “chenle? what are you doing?”

“making your bed”

he heads back to the bedroom as you’re left standing there staring at the couch, your new bed, “wait.”

ㅤ

jisungৎ

“that’s too much” you sighed out.

putting down the toothpaste he looks at you with a confused look, “what’s too much?”

“toothpaste”

almost immediatley he throws you a nasty look, “this is perfect, how else do you think my teeth stay pearly?”

you shrugged it off with a small “nevermind” but he grabbed the toothpaste bottle again and put more — in spite of you. “jisung!”

“If you’re not using this much i think we should stop kissing, i might catch something from you.”

#nct dream #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream drabbles #lee mark #mark lee #huang renjun #lee jeno #lee haechan #na jaemin #zhong chenle #park jisung

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kenlvry · 1 year

Text

angry confessions

c; getting into an argument abt something then saying “why u care” and yhhhh, angry confessions speak for itself, aged up 16-17 kenny kyle and stan

kenny mccormick

kenny wasn’t really fazed when something bloody happened, having died millions of time before, he got used to it. but when he saw you and some girl fighting he almost yelled stop loudly tryna be the main character, he let the fight happened bc he knew you hated it when someone pulls you away from a fight, it made it seem like you lost.

after the fight that you won you were frustrated and walked away home bc school alr ended, kenny ran to you and yelled at you “ what the fuck y/n?? you know how fucking dangerous that was?? you looked so fucked up” he said while holding a first aid kit, you couldnt care less how you look, “ y/n! are you even listening?? y/n” he said and walked infront of you,

“fuck kenny what?, can i not get into a fight? idgaf how i look, she asked for it” “are you hearing yourself rn?? what if you fractured something?? cmon sit down so i can check” he touched your arm “don’t touch me” you said sternly, he let go and you walked away, he wasn’t going to let you go like that so he grabbed your arm again “omg kenny why the fuck do you care so much?! why do you care if i got into a fight!?” “ because i like you dumbass!” your eyes widen and so does kenny “w-what...” you said “ now let me treat you, cmon” he said checking you hands while blushing ,

after that it got somewhat awkard but you two def act more close than ever

stan marsh

you were hanging out with a boy, not just any other boy but a boy that was known as the most violent kid at school, people said the boy always got into fights, smokes behind the school and disrespects teachers. but there you were talking and laughing with him, it made stans heart twist, after you were done talking to the boy stan went over and talked to you to warn you abt him.

“yo y/n why were you talking to him js now?” you looked at stan then at the boy, “who him?” you looked over to the boy and stan nodded “because... hes my friend? plus i have him for my science partner so we were talking abt when to meet up” you said smiling and walking away “hold on, yk who he is right?? stay away from him, he’s dangerous!” stan said pulling your arm “cmon stan stop over reacting he’s sweet, he even promised to buy me lunch!” you said pulling away from him, “still! im going to talk to mr garrison abt this, i’ll ask so you and me are on the same team” he said and walked away, now youre the one pulling his arm

“the fuck? dont, its none of your business” he was so shocked at how defensive you got over the kid “its too! what if you got hurt,infact i’ll make sure for future projects that requires two people us two are already on one” he tried walking away again, “stan! dont butt in! let me be, hes not as dangerous as people potray him!” you said slightly raising your voice “ i’m not risking it.” he said crossing his arms also raising his voice slightly “ why the fuck do you care??! you never cared before!” you yelled looking angry “because i love you y/n! bc i care for you! how have you not realize it by now geez!” he yelled back, you sat there shocked with a slight tint of pink on your cheeks he coughed a little breaking the tension “ now cmon, you wanna change partners or not” he looked away refusing to make eye contact, you nodded.

the whole time you two were working on the project you two blushed and smiled literally acted like you two never met

kyle broflovski

although you looked like a very untroubled person, you also had problems you wished would go away. so often times you and some other kids would smoke at the back of the school before school starts, its a way for you to release stress before school starts.

everyone kinda knew, the way you smelt when school starts it was too obvious,not to kyle i guess.. people didnt tell him bc they thought he knew! you thought he knew too tbh, but he thought it was from your dad or someone in your family, he believes your not one to get into that shit

school started and you scrapped your cig bud on the wall and threw it in a bin that was prepared by one the kid who smoked, as much as he smoked he cared for the environment too yk even though he's literally ruining it by smoking .when you came in the smell was strong, kenny smiled knowing what you did before school "smells strong y/n, things got tough huh?" he smiled while laughing a little "atp y/ns lung is gonna be all black like her heart" cartman added "is your dad okay y/n? he shouldn't smoke infront of his kids" kyle tried chiming in which made all five of you stop in your tracks. you looked at each other in confusion

"kyle, y/n dad isnt even alive" and kyle eyes was widen, he never asked bc he thought your dad was messed up and didn't wanna triger you. "wait then why does y/n smell like smoke" "bc she the one that smokes dumbass" kyles eye widen even more. with a little brother who used to vape and a bestfriend who drinked he was scared you'd be addicted too so he asked to talk to you separately.

"the fuck y/n?? smoking is so bad for you, you have to stop right now!" kyle got mad "ugh its none of your business,you literally used to smoke and how come you've only find out now?" you said rolling your eyes "thats not important! that shit can fuck up your lungs," "okay dad" you laughed a little and he got mad, he reach for your pockets and took away the packet of cigarettes you had "what the fuck kyle give them back, a teachers gonna see!" "no! not until you say you're gonna quit and start going to school with us from now on" he held the packet of cigarette high so you couldn't reach em

"why do you care?! why do you care if my lungs go all black and fade away? thats my problem!" "because i like you!" he said bringing the pack down and sighed "i like you y/n and I'm scared i might loose you so please, stop doing this" you blushed at the sudden confession

you didn't entirely quit, it was hard quitting something you always did as a routine so kyle would allow you only two times a week and gradually move from there<3

#kenny mccormick #south park #sp kenny #sp kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #south park x y/n #south park x reader #south park x you #sp stan #sp stan marsh #south park stan #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh #sp kyle broflovski #sp kyle #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle brovlofski

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ftmtftm · 3 months

Note

the whole "trans men male privilege" thing basically reveals to me that at the end of the day people's perception of a trans man is "(usually) white guy who has access to hrt, has been on it for 5+ years, has had bottom and top surgery, and won the genetic lottery". like.

what are the chances of someone being this lucky, lets be serious. and don't get me wrong, i'm sure there are transmascs who can not only pass, but are completely stealth. but for the vast majority of us?

not an option. testosterone is a restricted substance, gender clinics where i live have a 5+ year waiting list, and doing it privately is expensive (my brother is currently transitioning completely privately). top surgery costs at minimum £5k. bottom surgery? 2-3x that.

not to mention there will always be those of us who don't want to opt for one of them, or choose not to — and bc of this, it's kinda insane to me to be like, "well, if ur gonna cling to ur agab, why even transition" esp when those specific conversations are not actually "clinging" to it, so much as discussing how our body, and the body we inhabit, is the subject of legislature.

like at the end of the day the assumption is not only "well all trans men pass and are stealth (two diff things!)", but that trans men necessarily always /want/ to pass or conform to a very rigid and narrow image of masculinity. (and some people expect us too as well!)

some of us, we're never gonna pass. partially bc it holds no interest for us to present ourselves differently for said 'privilege', and partially bc we're unfortunately not gonna by virtue of our genetics. and some of us, well, we don't even have access to hrt, or puberty blockers, by virtue of where we live.

legal documents? in my country, your birth name is considered as belonging to the state. any attempt to change your name is already a hefty legal process, and it's actually immediately rejected if you are switching to a name of a different sex, requiring you to change your sex/gender marker first. and to do that? you have to take your parents to court.

yeah. hire a whole lawyer to represent you, file a complaint, have an entire gender certificate, and actually submit your case to a court which can ask you invasive and transphobic questions. it's literally easier for me to get a passport in a different country than it is to change my name with my current one.

Yep!!

You also kind of highlighted it without directly saying it but "[ the hypothetical straw trans man in question ] is USAmerican" is another identity to add to that list of assumptions often being made as well honestly.

Viewing an entire community through the lense of its most hypothetically privileged members will always fuck your perception of that community up. It happens to trans men a lot in conversations like these - and also it happens to trans women a lot in conversations on transitioning and passing and accessibility too honestly, just based on convos I've had with my ex as she's been coming out and building more trans fem community around herself.

Like, in reality, most people aren't able to transition in the ways they want/need to for so many different reasons - though usually because of systemic legal reasons and systemic economic reasons like you've described. Especially in the case of testosterone HRT - which does not have a gray market like estrogen and can plant you in serious legal trouble due to its controlled status.

Ultimately we're all fighting for security within systems that were explicitly not made for us and ultimately we're stronger combatting them together. Hopefully people realize that sooner rather than later.

#asks #anon #transandrophobia

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onesunofagun · 11 months

Text

The implications on Ganondorf and his background in TotK suggest some very interesting things to me.

First of all, like. I love him. He specifically did not disappoint me. His JP audio fucks so hard. I love his design. He's glorious.

And Hyrule as an imperialistic divine hegemony is not a new concept in the slightest, obviously, the Ganondorf corner of the fandom have known and discoursed about the potential story ramifications of those themes since OoT, but Fujibayashi really went ham on it in his run. (And look. Zelda is made in Japan. Framing a divine imperial authority as a good thing narratively is pretty par for the course JP nationalism, to be really blunt. It is what it is. Grain of salt.)

But I do appreciate that it revisited some OoT plot beats even if it... really drove that point home again in retrospect

I guess new fans are in for a treat unpacking that;;;

Anyway in the BG of that, I'm interested in the particular minutia of what was happening with this Ganondorf specifically to flavour his particular brand of 'fuck you'

And a few important points that give broader context to things are these and I'll put under a cut bc spoilers obviously--

Rauru's repeated 'invitations' to join Hyrule and benefit from their protection (presumably some advanced technological access or strong magical allies as part of that promise, which I believe is probably anti-monster focused within world context) which Ganondorf as a King has very much ignored (and good for him tbh).

Clearly, he has an interest in keeping Gerudo independent.

Ganondorf is acknowledged as a Hero to his people. Not only does this heavily resonate with the very particular themes of his actual character design and both its Buddhist reference and Samurai trope homages, but like-- we're actively shown an explanation for WHY he may be considered such.

Being who he is, he's already magically inclined with a kinship to monsters. We are unapologetically shown him in command of a Molduga Army. Trained Moldugas, under his command-- and not under specifically his mystical command, either, but musically conditioned. Trained to follow sound based command cues, which makes plentiful sense given Moldugas are sound sensitive and Ganondorf usually has musical inclinations. Plus it's Zelda franchise, magic command music is also very much a thing but--

Moldugas are, at least medicinally, very important resources. On a larger scale, they're also a very present threat to desert dwellers and travellers, and from the looks of it in much larger numbers, back then.

Given the context of everything, Ganondorf was a badass even before 'he took a magic relic and fucked up the Hyrulean Royal Family' as he tends to do. Sporting as ever, he fights Link one on one as just a Gerudo, also showing once again that he does in fact have some personal code of honour when it comes to fighting worthy opponents. But it gives us a yardstick of how capable he probably was even before he nabbed the tear.

Capable enough of tangling with most big uglies in the desert, such as Moldugas, which he has at least trained and at most maybe even raised.

Exemplified Power as he ever is, I'd like to point out that in this case, he's demonstrating a flipside of what Power looks like-- benevolence, protection, guardianship. Once again, we have the pieces that indeed he is capable of that and showing that to his own people. He also flexes the Molduga Army as a show of Gerudo and its own power.

To anyone other than Rauru, who is an incredibly powerful Sage already, a Molduga Army would have absolutely won the day, I think. The reaction of the other Gerudo is pretty telling.

Ganondorf's faction were deeply shaken by the display of Rauru's power. And as a guy that's been knocking on your King's door and saying 'you should come and bend knee to me' when Gan already has the worst problem in the sands sorted out?

Very understandable.

From their perspective -- what do they need protection from, exactly, if not Hyrule itself? Their monster problem is a non-issue. From the viewpoint of Gerudo loyal to Ganondorf, everything about this looks like a pressured threat.

Which comes back around, of course, to what Ganondorf plainly lays out to Rauru when he gains the tear-- this is because Rauru tried to control him. And yes, that's Ganondorf and his pride and his nature in full tilt too. He will not be pulled beneath anyone or anything.

But that's the point about that hubris on Rauru's part, he felt superior and he underestimated both Gerudo and Ganondorf-- as a warrior and a leader, and as somebody who was likely managing things very well on his own.

But I mentioned factions. This is something that should be made clear.

Pointed ears are, canonically, associated with faithfulness to Hylia and/or the worship of Hyrulean spirits. This gets debated all the time, but that's the fact of it. We have been shown again and again that humans from outside of Hyrule have round ears (as long ears are associated with hearing the voices of the gods; ie being open to them). Exposure to Hyrulean aligned divine elements can lend pointedness to previously totally round ears. We see this happen.

It has been doubled down upon that the ancient Gerudo (such as in oot and FSA, with FSA having the introduction of the floral association in Gerudo design and OoT heavily centering mirrors in their spiritual practices) worship different deities, whether derivatives of Din or Hylia or completely different myth. The Goddess of the Sands has been confirmed as a deity that Hyrule itself views as evil and false.

I generally interpret this to mean that part of the reason boils down to this-- Hyrule's main concern is that pointed ears are living lives closer to the gods, and therefore more insulated against corruption and demonic influences. Rather fittingly, their patron's foremost spiritual antagonist tends to find his reincarnation in unprotected, non-Hyrulean tribes who are 'open' to demons.

Now that may be another layer to what Rauru means when he says protection, also. Worshipping the 'right gods' affords certain protections (and certainly supports the security of Hyrule itself).

In SkSW, by the way, there's a really cool point of questioning early human society too-- the fire temple depicts demons and monsters and snakes quite a bit, and these were built in a time when I suspect the humans were mostly a large proto-people.

Sidenote: I think Hylia's faithful went to Skyloft and generally shook out to be the Hylians we know later, where some stayed on Earth to serve Hylia's plan and became Sheikah, many more people were transformed into demons in a reverse-Batreaux situation, and some humans just scattered far and wide to avoid conflict.

Anyway that temple depicts Bokoblins making hand signs and long story short, the overall motif and meaning of that temple shows demons offering to teach things, approaching humans with a different kind of enlightenment. Whoever built that temple was very much in a state of open spiritual and mystical curiosity.

Now the takeaway there is, ultimately, the ancient Gerudo very much seem to be descended from such a sect of people. They have their own gods, and they're not part of Hyrule proper, and they have round ears because of it.

Botw departed from that very clearly, but in doing so, also erased and replaced almost all traces of the ancient Gerudo deities with new Hylian analogues.

The Seven/Eight Heroines count as Hylianised deities, and I believe the reason for this-- first suspected in botw but I feel it's weightier after totk-- is that they represent tear holders / Hylia aligned Sages in the seven group (edit: and apparently a Hero in the Eighth) such as those in the decline timeline. They are functionally the reason that the Gerudo of modern day possess long ears-- even where they are selective in what they worship, they are still worshipping Hylia aligned aspects of Divine Hyrule.

And in case this wasn't absolutely irrefutable to me beforehand, the ancient Gerudo Sage from Rauru's time is both loyal to him, and possesses pointed ears under her camel mask.

I would also point out the Hylians of Rauru's time seem to have longer ears in general, probably owing to having a Zonai King, ostensibly a Hylia aligned Deity himself.

Ganondorf's ears are rounded, of course. He clearly doesn't believe in Hyrulean worship even in lip service, and it's little wonder why.

But following another beat of OoT, that ancient sage is a very obvious Nabooru type character. And, in much the same way, that suggests that even when Ganondorf was King of the Gerudo only, there may have already been factions splitting up amongst their people based on spiritual practices.

I don't think it's beyond the pale to speculate there may have been a mixture of Gerudo at the time who had both pointed ears and round, signalling the confusion from and conflict between their spiritual leaders.

It seems likely that a schism probably existed, regardless of ears, but that schism-- and the sage who may well have been leading it-- may have been caused by people who decided respond to those calls from Rauru and join Hyrule without their King.

Which gives a lot more context to why Ganondorf would be in the mood to send a giant Molduga shaped "back off" Rauru's way, also.

I take particular note that Ganondorf's destruction intentions are faced towards Hyrule and her allies, and specifically those who oppose him in that goal. And while I concur that his whole Red Inheritance party ran hard and may well have had a decent hand in frightening the bejeezus out of the Gerudo who were previously faithful to him-- maybe even inadvertently sent some running for camp Hyrule-- it seems he considers modern day Gerudo, fully converted to pro-Hyrulean status, to be traitors.

We have no idea what happened to the Gerudo who followed him, so that's really up in the air as to how messy that may have gotten.

Even the woman who plays to summon the Molduga has pointed ears though, so I tend to lean that his camp got converted to Heroine worship (or at least those with pointed ears mostly did if the mixed ear situation was happening).

But heck, it would not be the first time some Gerudo got ran outta dodge after a King went belly up.

Food for thought.

#ganondorf #legend of zelda #ocarina of time #long post #totk #totk spoilers #botw #gerudo #zelda #zelda meta

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novistarplanet · 1 year

Text

Baby Daddy eren pt2!

if you haven’t check the original

↳ baby daddy eren headcannons

also go check out my other writings🤭

i hope yall enjoy :)

eren loves doing wheelies in the parking lot with your daughter 😭

hes such a child

best believe everytime he drops hes baby at school she’s well feed! im talking Donuts ,pig n the blankets ,hell even pancakes!

whenever your daughter gets in trouble she always call eren

he’s definitely the type of parent to not care that their child got into a fight they just care if they won or not😭

they both watch gracie’s corner

he hates caillou😒

back to the drug dealer thing i said last post but after every deal he makes he always go to walmart and gets your daughter something

WAIT NO OMG LIKE VALENTINES DATES AND HE TAKES HER TO BULID A BEAR

Daddy daughter dances!!! Omgosh

he would be such a sucker for that he just wants to be in hes daugthers life :(

remember how i said you dont like Historia ?

i most DEFINITELY see her as the type to treat your child differently from hers

always trying to one up you at family barbecues

like hoe we got the same bd you aint no better than me

whats why you had to pull up on her🤷🏽‍♀️🤣

ill stop with the historia slander but after you beat her ass she’s been quiet even since

saddest thing is eren dont care🤷🏽‍♀️

he lets yall fight

he likes it when you braid hes hair

always show up in nike tech suits

He got the whole family a matching set of bonnets including hes mama

and mama carla is even WORSE then eren himself! So after the divorce with erens dad she went on to marry a rich man!

and girl it shows! taking your daughter out to high class shopping districts! BRUNCHS! even enrolled her into a french class!

so now your baby can speak german and french🧍🏽‍♀️

you honestly appreciate her she does so much for you she helps pay for your babys school funds :)

shes the reason you haven’t put eren on child support

literally your daughter already got stocks in her name from her

has you and your baby name tattooed on hes neck

he has a selve of tattoos

bc i said so

eren does not like your new man

any boyfriends you had in the past eren always scares them away

he would either threaten them or actually fight them

eren gets you pregnant again but this time he's actually there!

coming with you to ultra sounds

he asks dumb questions tho

"if we can see the baby...can he see us??"

he refers the baby as He/him even tho yall dont know the gender yet

he really wants a boy and you just want him to be happy

yk them baby shower videos when ppl get mad at the gender?

nah when eren finds out its a boy He goes BALLISTIC running around jumping😭 hes so happy

#eren x black fem!reader #eren x you #eren jeager x y/n #eren headcanons #eren jeager #eren x y/n #eren x black yn #eren fluff #eren x reader #eren x black reader fluff

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loserdiaz · 10 months

Text

inspiration saturday! 📜🎥

tagged by the lovelies @prince-buck-diaz and @panbuckley <33 thank you!

here's more from author!buck and actor!eddie au, plus another moodboard bc i cannot stop.

(also, if you wanna be tagged on this fic once i post, interact with this post)

"Can we start over?" He asks tentatively, reaching a hesitant hand in sign of a truce. In sign, and in hopes, of a fresh start— a new opportunity. "Hi, I'm Evan Buckley and I wrote some best selling books, just so you know." Eddie eyes him for a few seconds, biting down a smile he's trying so hard to fight but that Buck can see peaking its way through anyway. "Alright, fine." The man rolls his eyes and Buck feels a weird sense of smugness and relief and something, starting to brew inside of him. Washing over him, slowly and steady. "I'm Eddie Diaz. And I really kinda hate you, but you're an alright author, I guess." He takes Buck's hands in his and their fingers linger a little more than they should. Buck blanches at his words. "Just alright? Eddie, you wound me." Eddie grins, teasing and so fucking insufferable. "I mean, you're okay." "Okay?! Eddie!" Buck dramatically rests a hand against his heart, as if Eddie just stabbed him with a knife or something. "I literally won a National Book Award and the US Weekly called me a must-read but okay? You call me ‘okay’? Slander. Lies and slander!" "Bragging much?" “Alright, Big Shot.” Buck rolls his eyes. “Say what you want, but I remember someone gushing about how awesome and amazing me and my books are.” “Nah uh.” Eddie tsks. “We’re starting over, remember? That never happened.” Eddie raises an eyebrow. “I literally just met you, weirdo. Who even are you?” “God, you’re such a little shit.” Buck laughs, disbelieving but not being able to hide his amusement. “What are you even doing here?” “Well… you know how you’re not the only author in the world?” “Mhmm, sounds kinda crazy but carry on…”

tagging (no pressure and also this is a scheduled post, so sorry if you already tagged me lmao): @spaceprincessem @alyxmastershipper @spotsandsocks @buddierights @the-likesofus @elvensorceress @cowboy-buddie @monsterrae1 @bigfootsmom @honestlydarkprincess @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @barbiediaz @shortsighted-owl @hippolotamus @messyhairdiaz @ebdaydreamer @transbuck @transboybuckley @911onabc @buckitup @wildlife4life @bekkachaos @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @bucktalias @maygrantgf @starlingbite and anyone else who wants to do it!! <33

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 fox #911 on fox #buck x eddie #evan buck buckley #inspiration saturday #buddie fic #buddie wip #my wips #my writing #author buck actor eddie au #fic: we are a fresh page on the desk (filling in the blanks as we go)#911 wip #911 on abc #911 fic #911 abc

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ariscats · 1 month

Text

If i write all my analyze at once, it’ll be a whole masters, so im going to post it in parts.

Jameson Hawthorne Analyzes, Part1: Childhood

“I am hungry/ I have been hungry/ I was born hungry/ What do I need?/ I am something/ I have been something/ I was born something/ What could I be?” (Abbey, Mitski)

Jameson grew up as the grandson of a billionaire. He was born exactly 364 days before his older brother Grayson and was born because his mother wanted one more thing to love her. However, she was barely ever there, therefore he was raised by his grandfather. Having 3 brothers already made parental attention hard because its almost impossible to give the same amount of attention to the 4 equally, but having to fight for the attention of a billionaire making his empire? God. This is not something discussed a lot in the books but how present was Tobias was in the daily life of the brothers? I know he was relatively present but was that present enough for four kids? The answer is no. While Grayson tried to be perfect, Jameson tried to be worse so he could at least be the best at something.

Jameson was raised to be extraordinary. But his grandfather made him believe that he wasn’t. He just “wasnt”. At 10, his grandfather told him that his bigget fear was true, that he would never be as good as his brothers. his only chance was to be worse. Cheating, mindgames, doing things he shouldnt bc he could. Whatever he did, he had to do more, bc nothibg would never be enough for him or for Tobias. He would never be enough and he would never do enough, so he had to do more. Risk more, search more, feel more. He is the one who never gives up.

He would never be enough for his grandfather and his mom was to busy in her own traumas fo pay attention to him. He wasnt anyones favorite, but he was Graysons best friend. For the longest time, it was Gratson and Jameson, two conpletely oposite brothers who needed each other. While the parenting in his childhood might not have been the best, you can say it was bad. He had everthing, he could do everything, he was the most popular guy at school and he had his brothers. He grew up pushing himself to the impossible, but at leat he knew that, at the end of the day, he would have his brothers.

Also, Jameson is incredibly intelligent and talented. He is really, really good at radical sports and won several nationals and even internatioanls championships. And, he is smart enough to always find another way to do things. At seven, he carved the walls/floor of his bedroom because he understood that he couldn’t do the castle of cards stand up.

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #avery grambs #jameson hawthorne #the final gambit #averyjameson #the hawthorne legacy #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #avery kylie grambs

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nc-vb · 1 month

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𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞-𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Vergo, a seasoned actor who has won several awards and is always sought out by companies for their films, and you, an aspiring actor looking to get your name out in the world, meet at a party, and Vergo promises you the spotlight-- riches and fame can be yours... at the price of sex.

notes not back off my hiatus yet!! but this was a piece I wrote for the loverly @uminozerol 🥰 with her blessing, it has made it to the big screen (or, your phone screens, and if you've somehow decided to read ff on your tv screen, that's... a choice).

pairing -> actor!vergo x fem!actor!reader

warnings -> nsfw (18+, mdni), actor au, pw/p, piv sex "under contract", size difference (bc he's massive), oral sex (f!receiving), finger fucking, creampie; alcohol use (not involved w sexy times)

wc -> 5.6k

Contrary to mass naïve belief, the acting world isn’t all smiles and good times. Showing up to auditions and landing every role is a dreamer’s dream; personal sacrifice comes into play when desperation is present. The unspoken truth, the one hidden behind red painted doors to rooms with checkered floors…

But there’s a dark side to every industry.

The entertainment world, with its claws dug deep into society, dominates the public’s view of the world; only the most elite truly dictate what appears in the media, and, who. There’s nothing that speaks “power” like money does. A little investment goes a long way, but there are some actors and performers and entertainers who get away without needing that financial backing for their talents, raw and pure and whole; they do well on their own, beloved by the people.

And none of this has ever been a secret. It’s just something not many dare to tread on or over for fear of losing their own place under the LEDs. Fortunately for someone like you, a fresh-faced and bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and all-too-eager to have your name known to and adored by the world. To have your skill acknowledged by the masses, to see them enjoy your work and laud about it to those who’ve yet to witness it for themselves-- it’s an honour like no other.

You’ve yet to fall on hard times from a lack of substantial work (small gigs, commercials and commercial voice overs, and a supporting role in a twelve-episode drama that wouldn’t be renewed for a second season in spite of an overwhelming positive response) but the drain on both your savings and your motivations as an aspiring actor had begun to weight heavy on your heart.

You had the skill set and the experience to be sought after as rookie talent— is there something you’ve been doing wrong? Certainly not even your manager is at fault; you’ve seen first hand just how hard they’ve been searching and fighting on your behalf.

If you could guess… it’d been your lack of networking. And, a lack of a network. You really were a rookie in that sense. All those roles were eaten up because of connections— entertainment is the industry of nepotism, after all. People who know people are how people get places.

You… knew this, too. Even in the beginning. It’s why you’re sitting in front of your vanity, face painted and already dressed in your black evening gown, second guessing everything you’d steeled yourself into doing tonight.

According to your manager, who’d heard through their own contacts, a huge networking event masquerading as a cocktail party was to be happening tonight, and she managed to surprise you with a ticket. A ticket. Which means you’d be going in alone.

The “Don’t Worry, I’ll Be With You In Spirit” line she fed you almost immediately after gushing over the expected attendees put you on edge. Especially considering she’d blurted out the name of your favourite actor: Vergo.

With a voice like butter and the smoothest acting you’d seen in your lifetime, you’d been instantly enthralled; you can recall how he’d been mostly chosen for darker, noir, thriller type roles because of this. You’d always wanted to see him in a romance film, but casting directors seemed to be heavily monopolizing his most infamous skill set. And, he seemed content in doing them.

You were about to be in the same room as your idol, your celebrity crush— alone.

Technically.

The drive to the venue is a quiet one. At the expression on your face, your chauffeur, your manager, couldn’t bring herself to comment any further about the situation, even to fill the silence brought about during the evening traffic (though you correctly assumed it hadn’t been for your glare of “retaliation”, but because of the crease lines that would appear along your forehead; something about “ruining your makeup”, she’d mumbled under her breath that made you relent).

She does send you off with a genuine well-wishing of luck, and a reminder to call her whenever you were ready to leave.

To your surprise, the event is not a private one. Or at least, perhaps it had been, but somehow was leaked to the public. A large security detail outlines the numerous gold and red velvet stanchions, arms spread eagle wide so as to bar the few more wily spectators that pressed forward a little too much toward the doors.

Maybe it never was a private event. Stanchions? A red carpet? This much security? Either someone had been brilliant enough to think ahead for a just-in-case scenario quite like this one, or it’d been a publicity stunt of some design.

Adjusting the chain of the clutch hanging off of your shoulder, you swing it forward to dig out your invitation, and present it to the host at the door. A nod, a brief welcome, you finally enter the building, greeted by a gentle breeze and gold adornments and bold crown mouldings-- from top to bottom, the chosen venue was a good choice. You only wish your heels wouldn’t click so loudly across the checkered floor; you get the point is to be noticed, in a sense, but having this many pairs of eyes on you as you drift further inside only rattles your nerves.

Being that it’s a cocktail event, there is no assigned table seating. Wouldn’t be much of a networking event if you were stuck at one table all night, you reason with yourself.

By suggestion of one of the staff, you check your shawl in. You’d expected the room to be much cooler and brought it just in case, but the sheer number of celebrities, interviewers, and recruiters already in the room brought the temperature to a comfortable enough level. You hold onto your purse, finding it not nearly enough of a nuisance to be rid of it.

Moving aside, you take in your surroundings, properly, no longer overwhelmed and overloaded by them as you’d been on entry. There are a lot of guests. In such a large foyer, you suspect well over one hundred to be in attendance. Your heart swells, recalling your manager’s words from earlier-- yes, the event is invitation only, but you could still apply to receive one, and if the hosts deemed you a fit enough guest, you may attend, yourself. For fresh blood like yourself, this meant everything. The chance to interact, the chance to create a connection, to establish that network; you didn’t have all those fancy business cards made up for them to be used as a paperweight, after all.

You’re able to hand out quite a few of them before you find your battery drained, casting directors and curious producers alike finding you an interesting conversation piece after you tell them the series you’d co-starred in. Some of them even recall your role played and your acting, a very small “some”; you’d appreciated their kind words. But it’d been a long two hours of non-stop chatting and casual drinking. As fancy as the event was, wearing three inch heels (or heels of any height, really) hadn’t been an ideal dress code requirement, and you were beyond parched.

Trying not to sigh too loudly, you let yourself collapse into a plush barstool, immediately noting the velvet upholstery to match that of the rest of the venue’s, and hail down the bartender when you spot them having finished with another guest.

I won’t drink tonight, you tell yourself, thanking them with a nod. They set a glass of water before you a moment later, and you begin sipping gratefully from its straw. Mmm.

Finally having a moment to yourself again, you allow your eyes to wander around the room. It’s gotten a lot fuller since the time when it started… Celebrities and their dedication to arriving fashionably late… isn’t fashionable at all.

You spot a lot of familiar faces around you: the small group of men bickering loudly in one of the furthest corners who’d all recently starred together in a “buddy”-cop movie, affectionately nicknamed on one of their sets as the Three Stooges; the tall raven haired woman who’d brought along a novel to read, a smile on her face while she covets it from a singular lounge chair, Nico Robin; just entering the fray after checking in his coat, a former co-star of yours, Donquixote Rosinante; and, to your right, cradling a tall drink of something clear and violet, sitting several feet taller than yourself and who’d be the one person able to send more than just your heart fluttering--

V-Vergo?! As unnoticeably as possible, you straighten in your chair, shimmying your hips to fit against the backing, and take another sip from your own water.

Now, stage fright was something that you managed to siphon out of your repertoire after the first couple years of acting. It managed to control a lot of aspects of your life and even lucked you out of receiving a couple of good, substantial roles. So being here, for an event meant to help entertainers new and seasoned form connections or start networks or begin partnerships-- it means there’s no time for you to tremble on the sidelines.

The time it takes for you to summon up the courage is embarrassing; Vergo’s already ordered a second drink, and you’re quite sure he’s noticed you glance his way (multiple times) in his own peripherals. If he did, he doesn’t mention it, nor would you have been able to tell with those dark shades he always wears.

You also order a drink -- this time, a half-strong cocktail -- and swivel in your stool, the head of it rotating beneath you. Your eyes rise first, before you’re about to speak, only for your words to catch in your throat. Next to his lip sits a smudge of something soft orange in colour; a cream, of some sorts. You determine it’s one of the dips from the appetizer bar, and wonder how long it’s been there that no one’s said a word to him about it.

“Are you content with simply staring, or is there something you’re looking to say?”

This time, your breath catches in your lungs. He hadn’t even turned your way, still hunched over the bartop. You want to apologize, or maybe, laugh. Instead, you swallow your introduction and reach up, collecting the food sauce on the pad of your index finger. His flinch is subtle, only the shoulder closest to you tensing in surprise at your bold gesture.

“The roasted pepper goat cheese dip must’ve been really good for you to miss your mouth,” you muse, your heart pounding so hard it began to make your throat tighten. You’re about to reach for a napkin, when something otherworldly (you suspect) possesses you to tongue away the cream from your finger. “Yep. Roasted pepper goat cheese.”

“... and you are?”

You hold back another, smaller laugh, this one to cover your own mortification. “Sorry! I meant to introduce myself first.” And you do, though you curse the small stutter that carries along with it. “It’s nice to meet you, officially. I’m… a big fan of you-- ah, your work!” You breath trembles. “S-Sorry, I’m trying to be professional here, but…”

“It’s fine,” Vergo says, lowering his cup to the bar. “We’ve all been there.”

“T-Thanks,” you murmur, sipping from yours. “I suppose you came here for the networking bit of the event?”

“That, and the open bar.” You snort. “You’re not familiar to me,” he adds. Although you figured he wouldn’t have seen you in any of your small productions, you can’t help the flush of abashed heat that crawls across your skin. “Have you had any luck?”

“Nothing substantial… Mostly just a lot of “we’ll be in touch with your manager”, but we all know what that means, haha…” His lack of response hints to the contrary. “A-And you? I’m sure you don’t need networking yourself, so… are you building one for your agency?”

“I’m here on their behalf,” he confirms. “Supposedly, my presence brings a lot of attention; we’ve had a lot of applicants over the past few years.”

Wonder where they might’ve gotten that idea from, you think.

Another thought filters into your mind that makes embarrassed heat sweep through you; you chastise yourself for even considering asking something so… vulgar? But you manage to seal your lips to keep it contained.

“It looked like there was something you wanted to say.” Until his decision to ask it out of you was made.

Really, this could’ve been asked to any other person in the room -- but maybe not every person -- and yet, you find yourself blaming the measly half ounce of alcohol for your own perverted curiosities.

“I just… You hear about these kinds of things and wonder if they’re true, right…? And usually, it’s the more established folks who get involved with these kinds of things, or at the very least, know about them…” You clear your throat and lean toward Vergo, who cranes his head down to match your height. “Do people really still try and sleep their way to the top?”

If he’d reacted in any way to your words, you don’t catch it. Rather, he politely clears his own throat, and stares down at you.

“Is this something of interest to you?” he inquires, polishing off his drink a moment later. You flush.

“I, uh, n-not exactly…” You sigh, defeated. “But at this rate, I’d have more luck sleeping with some… executive producer or some superstar actor than landing a role through normal means. It’s just so frustrating. Why did everyone want to enter show business at the same time?”

Eyes stuck, you watch the bartender clear your glasses with a nod of approval from the two of you.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Vergo says. “This stands true, even outside of the script of a movie. Are you asking because you’re considering it?”

Your laugh is light, but self-pitying. “Wish I could lie and say I’m not. It’s… not cheap living in this city and getting few to no call backs. It’s either I get a part-time job as some minimum wage barista or, I don’t know… Whore out my talents, I guess.”

“And you’d do that with some… skeevy executive?”

You grimace. “Well, when you put it that way, it’s kind of gross. Something like that would be the last thing I’d ever want. God, I just wish I could get real, honest work…”

Vergo goes silent. After such a strange turn in conversation -- even though he’d been the one to ask!! you remind yourself -- you don’t blame him for not knowing how to deviate from it; you don’t even know what to say from here.

There’s a bit of shuffling from your right where he sits, and you find him sifting through the inner pockets of his blazer. He pulls out a card clip of his own, filled thick with laminated black and light blue business cards, and a white permanent marker, and begins writing on the bare backside of it.

“Take this,” he says, and slides it across the bar to you. “This is where I’ll be staying for the weekend. My room number.”

“Wh-- why--””A business proposition. One that I won’t speak about in public. Come or don’t come, that’s up to you. I’m not some “gross executive”, but I’ve at least been in this business long enough to tell you that it would be one worth your while.”

You pick up the card with trembling fingers, eyes still wide and glued on him, even as he stands up to adjust his suit.

“I’ll be saying my goodbyes to everyone now. Come at eleven tonight, if you do.”

Eleven… That’s only an hour away now.

You’d called your manager to pick you up shortly after Vergo left. She’d inquired about your lack of conversational skills when you’d gotten into her vehicle, but your mind had been so occupied with thoughts of Vergo, the man you’d only idolized and, if you were being completely honest, simped after for a majority of your teenage and adult life.

You’d reasoned you could only speculate about the business proposal he had for you, but you know exactly what he intends to suggest should you decide to make your way to his hotel. It’s definitely not something he should suggest in public -- it’s not something he should’ve suggested at all considering his very public position in the media limelight. You could’ve taken this information and sold it to one of the paparazzi waiting outside.

Maybe you looked more desperate than you’d meant to come across as. Because prior to your conversation with him, no; you’d never seriously considered “selling yourself” for a role or for fame, let alone to some equally-as-desperate executive. You’re pretty sure a song had been made about that.

It would’ve taken you an hour from your own apartment to reach Vergo’s hotel through downtown traffic anyhow… which is why you found yourself here earlier than you would’ve intended. However he plans to phrase this proposition of his, it’s not like you’ve said “yes” to anything yet. At the very least, you could hear him out.

You’d changed into an outfit more casual, more professional, than the glittering evening gown you showed up in for the networking party-- a pair of loose slacks and a sweater vest-button up combo. Underneath, however, you made sure to wear something a little more… for the occasion.

It’s just in case!! you swear to yourself as you clamber into the elevator, heart pounding. Like I’d be caught dead on any occasion wearing granny panties and a sports bra.

Vergo’s room is on the highest floor, the hotel’s penthouse suite they often reserved for VIP guests such as notable politicians and top names in the media. You hadn’t been sure how things normally work, but you learn that his room isn’t guarded by his security detail (not that you thought he needed it with him having self-defense training and him being built like a fridge) like you expected. It makes it easy for you to walk up and press the video doorbell, despite it being physically difficult. A moment later, the camera clicks on, and without a single word from the suite’s inhabitant, the door clicks, too, and you enter.

You expected nothing short of excellence and minimalist beauty for the room and you aren’t disappointed. The penthouse suite is decked with expensive paintings and high-end leather furnishings and beautiful, shining black lacquer tables and stainless steel appliances-- you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“You came after all,” Vergo's voice echoes through the room as he descends from the second level. If you could afford to own and wear pearls, you’d be clutching them; it looks like he’d freshly showered just before you arrived, and, lucky you, he’d yet to put his glasses back on.

“Hello again,” you greet. Anxious, you shift your weight onto one foot. “I figured I should at least hear out your “business proposal” before I turn it down.”

“I see. That’s very professional of you.” Standing only feet away from you now, you feel yourself shrinking and shriveling before him. “Drink?”

“Uh-- j-just water, please.” Vergo collects two glasses and fills them from the fridge’s cold water depository, handing one of them to you, and gesturing for you to follow him into the common area; a set of four cream-coloured leather couches, all facing each other with those black lacquer tables sitting at the end of each and in between them. You sit, and rather than sitting across from you, or at least adjacent to you, Vergo sits but a couple of feet away on the same couch. You take a drink before setting the cup on the table, swallowing harshly.

Vergo does the same. “I’ve been in this business a long time. I’ve seen filth and I’ve seen good faith. The question you asked back at the party, if it’s all true? Yes. Of course, it is. Only a fool would dare to challenge this fact. Some are lucky, however; sometimes their attempt into “sleeping their way to the top”, as you’d put it, is achieved without a hitch.

“Others, not so much. Years to date, they’re still stuck in a cycle of use and abuse.” Vergo sighs at you. “I can only assume that you might have been joking earlier, about whoring out your talents to some no-good executive. You seem like an earnest young woman. The last thing I wish to see, and to remember being responsible for, is not ridding the idea from your head; is seeing you lost in that same cycle. So, I offer this to you:

“Roles. Riches. Fame. I can ensure you’ll receive it all, in exchange for that one thing.” It remains nameless, but the implication is clear. “As you put it, you’ll whore out your talents to me, and I’ll put them to good, proper use. You’re not without skill; simply, you’re without guidance.”

You decide to name it. “In exchange for sex.”

Vergo nods. “Yes.”

“That was all very straightforward of you.”

“Do you dislike it?”

With almost zero hesitation, you shake your head. “No.” You pause. “Besides the sex, what else are you getting out of this? Because it seems like I’m reaping double the rewards in this deal.”

“Self-satisfaction, perhaps,” he says. “Hm… I was once told I wouldn’t be a good mentor.”

“I’m hoping you’ve never propositioned another rookie like this before to earn that comment,” you muse, and to your surprise, you earn a chuckle from the man.

“You would be the first to ever ask the question you did, so no. I would have had no other reason to.” Another pause occurs between you before Vergo gestures past the kitchen. “If you’d like to freshen up, the restroom is there.”

Even though I also showered again before coming here… “S-Sure. Thank you.”

“When you’re ready, I’ll… be waiting.”

You excuse yourself, stumbling a little on your way past the door frame. You slide the door shut and look at yourself in the long, wall-encompassing mirror.

You’re shaking. Unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, you decide to cool yourself down with a cold cloth to your forehead. Freshen up? What more could you do to prepare yourself for what you agreed to do? A verbal contract to achieve fame and even more, receive a good fuck. How is this going to work? Are you supposed to become signed to his agency? You’d been a freelancer for so many years. How often are you supposed to have sex with Vergo? The image of you as a purse puppy suddenly appears behind your eyes and you have to stop yourself from laughing at it; this is serious. And you seriously wonder if Vergo really has no other agenda or intentions behind this agreement.

You drop the cloth onto the counter and sigh heavily, at the same time the bathroom door slides open again. Spinning on your bare heel, you flinch at Vergo and his long, quick strides over to you.

“I-I thought--!””I apologize,” he interrupts, stopping just before you. He crouches at his knees, his eager hands disappearing under you to scoop you into the air a moment later. You flail, a noise of surprise slipping past gritted teeth when he sets you down on the counter’s edge. “I’m afraid that this is where our agreement begins.”

His movements are hurried, his touch; heavy, but not harmful. You brace yourself while he helps to strip you down; a hand pressed against his chest with the other propping you up from the counter, he works around your lack of balance and lifts both your sweater vest and the blouse over your head, not bothering to unbutton it. Mouthing at your bare neck, he unclasps your white lace bra and tosses it behind him. His lips are quick to travel, to your jaw, to the sweet corners of your lips, parted enough for him, quite alike your thighs, to slot himself between; his lips, his thighs-- he pulls you to the edge of the counter to press one of them into your clothed cunt.

You gasp, the material of your trousers coarse enough and his movements exact enough that it makes you keen forward for more. Vergo's hands, big like the rest of him, smooths along your thighs and up to your hips, his thick fingers dipping with urgency beneath the waistband.

“Lift,” he commands, and you raise your ass from the countertop. Lowering yourself back down has you hissing from the cool chill of the marble, but the look on Vergo’s face has you quickly warming up again. Once more, he drags you to the counter’s edge before dropping onto his knees between yours.

“V-Vergo?” you ask, already breathless. He doesn’t speak again, busying himself with tugging your slacks and panties down past your hips and nipping down along your exposed flesh.

His shoulders are too broad for you to even consider trying to shut your legs; his grip, too firm to be able to free your hands from being pinned down against the counter. If a single swipe of his tongue has you reeling (with nowhere to go but backward, your bare back pressed against the cold mirror to contrast the rest of your body and its burgeon), then the fervent suckling at your throbbing clit would have you utterly convulsing beneath him. Your cries, desperate and passing through clenched teeth, go ignored, save for the occasional glance your way; proving himself an attentive partner hadn’t been something you necessarily expected out of him, but it provided you with just another reason to remain infatuated with him.

Your feet kick out, looking for a surface to catch on and press against, but they, too, had been trapped under him--

“-- Vergo, I-I’m--!”

-- until they weren’t. His release of you is abrupt, as is his ascent to stand as tall as the bathroom itself. You wheeze, not realizing you’d been holding your breath until now.

“Why…”

“Don’t start thinking the night will be cut short,” he says, unzipping his jacket and untying the knot of his sweats. “I’m not a one-round sort of man.” They fall into a heap on the floor beneath him, joining you in the nude. Glancing down where you feel his erection pressing against you is a challenge, especially when you eventually learn that it’s only touching you halfway.

“Oh my god…”

“Come.” He extends a hand to you that you hesitantly take. “You’ll be much more comfortable elsewhere.”

Expecting to slide off the counter and onto your wobbling, fawn-like legs, had been incorrect. The large hand wrapped around yours had only been for your own leverage when he lifts you into his other arm, five feet off the ground, with little effort. You squirm in his hold, made anxious by the extra height, until you feel his fingers prodding at your cunt. You can feel, you can hear, just how wet he’d made it by the merit of his tongue alone as he stirs them along your opening.

“Relax,” he tells you. “You’ll want this done properly before we really begin.”

You make to speak, what likely would’ve been a choked noise coming from you, but instead you squeak, suddenly impaled on two of his fingers.

“Put your arms around my neck.” To the best of your ability, you do, trembling flesh and bones curling carefully around corded muscle. “And put your legs around me.” This, you find, is much harder, and so with his help, your legs curl around his waist.

“Lift,” he says again, and you lean back to glance at him. “I said, lift.”

… you do, a gasp immediately escaping you when you end up falling back onto his fingers. You scramble, weak limbs attempting to free you from their range, only to slide right back down.

“Vergo,” you whine

“Hold on tight.” You do. With every ounce of whatever strength you could muster, you do. The penthouse is a completely private suite, and in a building taller than all the rest around it, you have complete privacy, and yet, being paraded through such an open, exposed space, on your way up to the room’s second floor, you find yourself trying to hide what you can of yourself; a redundant, unfruitful effort.

Having removed his fingers, he has you unlace your limbs from around him to fall onto his bed.

“Under normal circumstances, I’d certainly be taking my time.” You glance down, and find Vergo stroking himself to an even greater length than you’d first seen him. It’s not natural, you begin to panic. He’s huge, a-and his thing’s even bigger, I-- i-it’ll never fit, there’s no way-- “I’d have you coming on my hands and into my mouth three times each before we even got up the stairs.”

Your cheeks burn; your attempt to hide your expression behind your arm fails when he takes both of your wrists in a single hand and pins them above your head. With his other, he grabs himself at his base, and lines him up with your arousal.

“Remember to breathe.”

Instinctively, you do the exact opposite.

Being impaled on his fingers hadn’t even been comparable. Even prior to him undressing, you knew he wouldn’t be small by any means; your mind might’ve still been in a state of shock, even before he thrust into you. “Remember to breathe”? You can barely string a thought together. And whatever breaths make it out of you are punched from your lungs each time the head of his cock meets the depths of your cunt.

Vergo leans down over you, curling his free arm around your waist from behind, and presses his lips into your ear.

“Breathe,” he repeats on the backing of a grunt, his voice a deep, muted whisper that has you clenching even harder down on him. “You’ll -- ngh -- pass out if you don’t.”

Your nails pierce your palms. I’d like… to see you try and breathe… with this shit inside of you!!

“Damn, you’re so tight.” Vergo rocks his hips forward, his own lips parted and letting his own pants escape right next to your ear. “Thought I prepared you enough f’me.”

He no longer eases himself into you, instead snapping his pelvis into yours with little restraint. Hands still wrapped around your wrists, he pulls you up onto your knees, rising behind you and holding your back to his chest; the reprieve of being weighed down by him is short-lived as he impales you once more upon him-- his fingers couldn’t even compare to the fullness plaguing you. You choke on the small doses of oxygen you’re able to take in, and with your free hands, you scramble to find a stance that relieves the pressure; not even standing with the tips of your toes pressed into the mattress spares you.

Instead, you bring a shaking hand down to smack across the forearm locking you against him. “I-I-- haa -- I’m g… onna break… p… lease…! Ver… go…!”

Vergo groans into the crook of your neck, and presses a hand over your abdomen. Your breath hitches; aside from the spasming of your limbs, you still from shock, forced to accept the orgasm he and his cock had bullied you into.

“Then… become broken by me.”

A large hand sweeps forward to turn your head toward him. You can’t stop him, not that you’d try in such a state, when he presses his tongue against your lips to pry them apart. Whines and moans alike, he swallows them all, leaves you breathless and weakly swatting at him to release you. Instead, he releases into you, and you wince at the heat of his spend filling your womb.

Before you’re even out of his arms and laying in the plush sheets below, you find yourself too dizzied to remain upright, and faint against him.

A woman’s laugh drags you back into consciousness.

Eyelids heavy, you blink the bedroom into focus, squinting when your gaze lands on the warmth of the lamp on the bedside table. Body and skin tender, you gingerly roll onto your other side, wincing at the small ache felt across your pelvis.

You’d expected to wake still covered in sweat and spend; a happy surprise it ended up being for you to learn that you’d been taken care of, as the drops of cum you knew flicked up to hit your cheeks were wiped away.

There, Vergo sits, phone in hand and thumb-scrolling down a white-glowing screen.

“W… Was someone just in here,” you mumble, raising the back of your hand to rub blurred exhaustion from your vision. Vergo shakes his head.

“I’m going through available scripts I think might suit your skill set.” He swipes in the opposite direction, “And ones that might pressure you to work a little more,” to show you that he’d been watching an acting reel your manager had uploaded to the web of you. A flush of embarrassment rolls through you, as if you’d just performed for him, not in bed, but on a set. “After all, I need to keep up my end of our bargain, no?”

#vergo x reader #op vergo x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x reader smut #one piece vergo #vergo one piece

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march2nd · 5 months

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STORM IS BREWING

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chapter I - storm is brewing

please note that I do not follow canon in this one , basically i have read the hunger games series a long time ago, and i can't read it again bc reading finnick's death scene pains me (that's why I am writing this ff, to give him a deserved happy ending). also english is not my first language!

tw: canon typical violence, mentions of psychological distress, allusions to prostitution , reader is still a minor in this chapter!

word count: 1762

You think that all the odds are now against you. With your sister Diana missing since yesterday you are not feeling confident anymore. Maybe you were too harsh, maybe she is being too stubborn. You two were never too close, with your conflicting personalities. Even though Diana was the older one you could not fathom how did she manage to live her unrealistic dreams of freedom. Deep down you know her doings could only bring doom for your family. In your eyes she is too detached from the realisty and in her eyes you are too pragmatic.

Right now you are getting ready for the reaping. You have to keep reminding yourself that the chances of being chosen are extremely low. You personally know people who's name has been put more than forty times. This gives you hope because someone has ten more chances of being pulled over you. You know that you would have not survived in that area, you are not a born killer. When your father was alive he took you and Diana to train from time to time. He was a wise man, as he thought that those are skills that you could need at any time. Unfortunately for you, it was a few year ago when he was more often at home than not and you did not pay much attention to it as you considered that stupid at that time, as your names were not even once put on the list. You can make a fire and recognize most of the plants that are growing in your district. Your father even managed to smuggle an encyclopedia containing pictures of other, less common ones. Even thought the book is yellow from old age and some pages are missing it is still your favorite thing. Elena once took it and after briefly skimming through memorized all the plants and its names. It deeply amazes you, how her brain works.

During the illegal training with your father Diana turned out to be very skilled in terms of combat. You would fight with her using toy knifes that you would both create from wood. You enjoyed the creating part more than the actual fight. In your life you had never won with Diana. Your father said you had to train until you win with your own sister. It used to deeply upset you and created an unnecessary rivalry until you found a way to trick her once. You were sick of tired of always loosing. Your sister at that age was a lot taller than you and had some muscle definition as she wasn't stuffing herself with candy as you did. You came to your usual spot with a wire in hand and wired the area around you. You memorized when the wire was, even thought the ground was covered in leaves and was nearly impossible to spot it. When it came to your usual fight instead of giving it your all at first you thrusted in the air few times, missing her on purpose. You could see it in her eyes, the fire rising as she realized that another victory was ahead of her. You opened your [e/c] eyes wide, faking being surprised. You turned on your feet and started running, hoping just over the wire. Your sister missed that, as she was sprinting to you, wanting to have it over already. That's when she tripped and fell. You felt bad for a millisecond until you sat on her back and held the knife over her exposed neck as a sign of having the upper hand. "Now I win" you said, not trying to hide your growing smile. Finally. You looked at your father for approval and could see a shine in his eyes in a moment. He gave you a knowing look. You felt so happy, being validated by your own father as he was usually frowning at you, giving you dissatisfied looks. On the other hand, Diana was furious. She accused you of being a dirty little cheater 'it is a knife fight, its point is not to create the most barbaric looking trap ever' she commented. As a consequence she wasn't talking to you for some days after, but after that when she realized that you two didn't have to wake up early anymore to train she seemed grateful and your relationship went back to normal. That meant occasional bickering and some fights but nothing major. It all changed after the death of your father. She and Stella got so much closer and you started to take more care and pay more attention to Elena. You used to envy their relationship, as they were like best friend in your eyes. And Elena, could never understand you just like you couldn't understand her and her episodes. What didn't help was the fact that she was still a little kid when you were in the middle of puberty. Now Stella seems to not be found of Diana, and is orbiting closer to you and mom. You pitty your second sister as she seems to be so bitter inside and burn every bridge she has. You wish she was different or at least more accepting.

As you are getting ready Stella comes to your and Elena's room. She is holding a small parcel. "For you," she unpacks it in front of you, "I figured you would like to look pretty for your first real reaping."She smiles, but it does not reach her eyes. It is in fact, a beautiful dress. It is bright orange, reaching your knees, with puff sleeves. It will make you look like a princess but at the same time not because of the color that is not that far away from red - color associated with blood. All the new clothes you got right now are from your sisters, that outgrew them already. Most of the clothes were sold at the market, bringing joy for whoever got them. Unfortunately for Stella, she kept some of her dresses to look more appealing for richer men.

"I will save you," you think while making your lips into thin line. "You don't like it?" Stella questions you with disappointment in her eyes. "No, I just thought I would never look as beautiful as you in that dress." You lie as not to upset her. She thinks you are speaking nonsense and reassures you that you have only turned seventeen recently and that you shouldn't compare yourself with a grown woman. She is telling the truth, but as for now you don't care. For now you are not an object of desire and don't have to consider the same line of job as she does. This brings relief to you.

You dress yourself as Stella styles your hair. You notice her nails are colored a nice color that matches her [e/c] eyes. You tell her that and she blushes. You realize she does not want to share the nail polish with you or anyone. She bought it for her own saved money, from the job she hates, to make herself feel more beautiful. You understand it but you are sure that if you were her you would share it with your sisters. It is the small things that matter. After some time you look at herself in the mirror. Stella remarks that you look just like her when she was younger. It might be true as you look at yourself - your hair, now braided exposes your face that you normally hide under all the hair you let loose. She playfully pinches your cheeks. "Not so chubby anymore, huh?" she says with a hint of sadness in her voice. After everything you couldn't allow to buy your beloved sweets anymore. This is not just a symbol of change in appearance but also fall in status. "When you grow up you will be the most beautiful girl here," she says and kisses your forehead. Your sister is extremely nice to you, but there is something that you both know. Beauty can be considered a curse around here, as it endangers women to certain line of work.

However, if you manage to secure your dream job in the Capital everything will change, you won't stop by just helping women in your family, but if you are able to other young girls who are forced to make a choice how to earn for living. You smile and hug your sister. You wish you could do the same with Diana and Elena, but Diana is nowhere to be found and Elena hates when anybody touches her.

You and your family of four go to the central square. District 3 is one of the most populated districts. As a result there are a lot of children and teenagers who are eligible for the reaping. Your mother stays in the back with Elena who is disinterested seems to be counting the cobblestones. Knowing her, she is trying to estimate how many stones were used in building this place and how long did it take to polish everything off. There is also a privileged group far in the back which you used to be a part of that does not take part in it at all. They are just there to watch who is being chosen to die a miserable death. Stella walks with you to get your blood taken and then to your sector with other seventeen year olds. She reminds you to take deep breaths. Other teenagers look at you like the odd one out, having to be accompanied by an older sister, but truth be told you are shaking and nothing you say to calm yourself down helps. The short propaganda film starts playing and you bring yourself to focus on what's before you.

In Districts like yours, where there are much more people than in the outer ones instead of using paper cards for dramatic effect they use the computer to chose, as the bowls containing the names would have to be comically big. The machine starts as the escort clicks the button. The names that are chosen are only known to her eyes.

You hear your last name being called. "[L/n]?" She makes a pause "[L/n]?" You think that it is impossible, Elena's name is not there even once and Diana and Stella are both over eighteen already. You feel like fainting. It is you, you are the tribute from District 3.

NOTES:

devil works hard but i work harder, 2 chapters in one day!

#finnick x reader #finnick odair #forget me not #xreader #the hunger games #angst #fluff

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