#that the person didn't do in that particular work. in a comment on the work. like bruh at least put it in the tags | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

insipid-drivel · 1 year ago

Text

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

#horses #horseback riding #writing #writing tips #long post

8K notes · View notes

wosospacegirl · 26 days ago

Text

Williamson vs Williamson - Leah Williamson

Warnings: (+18) smut, fingering (r receiving)

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: this was a request (well, two requests, two anon asked for the same thing)! <3

You loved Leah with your whole heart. You really did.

It had never been a doubt in your life. The warm feeling began growing in your chest when you first met her at a Pepsi campaign shoot a year ago.

She was cocky, you were cockier. She liked that. She said she enjoyed being challenged, liked to be pushed and pulled, and liked how you were the one person she allowed to do that to her.

That dynamic ruled your relationship, which started as a friends-with-benefits arrangement. It worked because you didn't play for the same country or the same club, so having a low-maintenance relationship was functional.

It served its purpose.

It gave both of you someone to call whenever you were in the same city.

But then it became something more. You found yourself sending her pictures of your cat, then you began taking pictures of books you were reading, telling her how much a particular sentence reminded you of her.

You were drunk when you confessed your feelings, but it was okay because Leah was drunker. You had sex, but neither of you could remember it. The only thing both of you could remember was the aching headache you woke up with the next day, and how, since then, you both just...became a thing.

There wasn't any big declaration, you were just dating. It grew naturally.

Same thing with how Leah proposed two years later. You were on one of your rare breaks together. It was a sunny day on a beach in Greece, and Leah casually asked if you'd like to be called Williamson.

You said yes. A week later, you signed the papers.

It was easy. it always was when it came to Leah. She wasn't dramatic; she was honest, straightforward. You were, too. That's why you guys matched.

Your relationship was intense yet steady. No unnecessary drama, no pointless arguments.

But oh, it was so much different when it came to how you two were on the pitch.

You were both captains-Leah for the Lionesses, you for your country.

When the game started, you shook hands, shared a smile, and then turned your backs to each other. Williamson and Williamson.

The media loved how it absolutely didn't seem like you two even knew each other when you were on the pitch. Both of you were absolutely ruthless, only one goal in mind: score goals and keep clean sheets.

The green of the pitch didn't match the red of love.

They were supposed to be separate things. They shouldn't mix with each other.

It was a heated game.

You were losing.

Ninety minutes were up, and the referee added three minutes of stoppage time.

You weren't very nice when you were playing, and you were worse when you were losing.

You were running, ball at your feet, only two or three players in your way to the goal. You were ready to take a long shot when Leah rushed past you, ready to put herself in your path.

You ran faster, ball on your left foot as your right one slipped past her calf. She fell. You didn't mean to, but her body was in the way, so you stumbled awkwardly, almost hitting her knee.

The knee. The one she tore her ACL on years ago.

You obviously didn't mean it. You would never purposely hurt anyone badly, let alone Leah, but it happened. You almost stepped on it.

The referee blew the whistle, and you took a step back, ready to help Leah to her feet again. But then Leah got up, her brows furrowed, the veins on her neck showing.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" she said, getting closer. She looked mad–very mad–which made you angry as well.

Did she think you seriously did that on purpose?

"Oh, it seems like we have a Williamson vs Williamson situation right now," came the commentator's voice over the stadium speakers.

"Oh come on, I clearly didn't mean it," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Yes, you fucking did," she said, pointing a finger at you. Her chest was puffed out as if she were trying to make herself look taller.

It worked.

"Don't be such a baby. It's a fucking game, it happens," you said.

"Fuck you–”

Greenwood showed up, you didn't see her coming. She was holding Leah's face and telling her to back off. You kept your ground, looking Leah straight in the eyes. Fuck her if she thought you would seriously do that on purpose.

"Fuck you," you echoed back to her. Then you turned your back on her as the referee got in the middle of it.

"Give me my fucking last name back!" she shouted, looking at the back of your jersey.

"You can keep it, idiot!" you called back over your shoulder.

You snapped your hair tie in half as you walked to the locker room. Your teammates were patting your back, telling you that the team would come back stronger next time, which you agreed with–you couldn't not do it. You were the captain.

You were the last one in the showers.

You needed the hot water running down your neck, dripping down your back. It was a domestic game for you, so you didn't need to go back with the rest of the team on the bus. Instead, you could stay as long as you wanted in the locker room and just go home after.

You hated to lose. It was one of the worst feelings ever. It was friendly, but whatever, it still felt sore. You were replaying everything that went wrong in the game: every pass you did wrong, the times you were too slow.

You clenched your fists, your fingers digging into your palms. Your nails hurt your skin, they would have drawn blood if your nails were longer.

You screamed when you felt cold hands against your body, but then her shampoo scent hit your nostrils. Leah.

She kept her hands on your naked hips, pulling your body against her clothed one. "Keep it, idiot? Really?" she murmured in your ear.

You smirked, letting yourself be pulled into her. "You were the one who asked for your name back."

"Mm," she hummed, kissing your neck. "I didn't mean it, though."

"It seemed like you did," you said. "You were coming at me, your face was all red."

"You know my knee is a sensitive topic," she said, her fingers trailing down, closer and closer to where you needed them most, your cunt was wet already, ready for her.

"My wife telling me to give her name back is also a sensitive topic," you breathed as she filled you, slowly, teasingly.

"Your wife is a bit hotheaded," Leah whispered, quickening the pace of her fingers and taking your skin of your neck between her teeth.

"Guess that's a Williamson trait, then," you said, moving your hips against her fingers.

"Kind of is, yeah," she said, her breath hot against your ear. "But you know what else is a Williamson trait?"

"What?" you managed to ask, your voice catching as she found exactly the right spot. She always did, and she knew it.

"We don't stay mad at each other for long." She held your jaw so you were looking at her. "Especially not over something that happened on the pitch."

You lifted your head up, brushing your lips against her cheek. "We always fight when we play against each other…we’re idiots.

"Completely idiots," she agreed, pressing her forehead against yours. She was getting wet, the water dripping down on her as you dripped down her finger with your own wetness. "But we're married–can't forget that."

"We’re married idiots who happen to be really good at football.” You moaned as she added a third finger. This woman was gonna be the death of you.

Her and her stupid fingers–and knee.

"Speak for yourself. I'm the one who won today," she teased, her lips found your neck again, sucking it, and leaving a mark. Leah loved to mark you up.

"Don't push it, Williamson," you warned, but you were suddenly quiet when Leah’s thumb found you clit, massaging it sweetly. “Fuck–more.”

“Yeah?” Leah said, a smirk growing on her face. “Gonna make you cum right here, make you remember why you have that name on your back, why you’re mine.”

And Leah did exactly that. In the steam and heat of the shower, you were just two people who loved each other as much as you loved winning and competing.

Well, some days more than others.

a/n: i hope you gus enjoyed it!! <3

let me know what u think!!!

#woso x reader #woso fanfic #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson smut #woso #woso community #woso appreciation

524 notes · View notes

rafesbowbunny · 6 months ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 bunny!reader has always had a thing for a regular at her bookstore, older!rafe only comes in to see her

c!w; mdni !! older!rafe, dom!rafe, bunny!reader, age-gap (reader is 18+), size kink, rafe gets called 'daddy' a few times, dirty talk, mutual pining obviously, 'unprotected' sex, p in v, creampie, overstimulation (if you squint), cum play, cum eating, oral (f. receiving)

notes; i had such bad writer's block during the making of this so i apologise if this isn't my best work... also its kinda long before the smut but it needed some plot !!

you'd just gotten a job at a new cozy bookstore in town. it was perfect, had rows and rows of every genre of book a person could think of and a lovely little cafe with a cozy area to read in too. you loved working there, and had recently gotten much more comfortable after finally getting the hang of everything.

there were quite a few regulars that would come in for the coffee and a book, lots were mothers with quiet children that would sit down in the children's corner and read, others were just people of all ages that particularly enjoyed sitting in the bookstore for hours.

you were stacking shelves the first time you saw him; tall, gorgeous and smiling slightly under his cute scruffy moustache. he was flicking through the non-fiction books. though he didn't look like someone that read, adorned in workwear and partially grubby clothing, most likely from his blue collar job.

you could tell he was definitely older, around ten years your senior but still so pretty. after that first minor interaction you started seeing him come in a lot more, every other day basically. you'd worked up the courage to say hi to him after a few more times of seeing him and although your face was probably bright red, he smiled wide and started a conversation with you.

after the ice had been broken you would always talk to him when he came into the bookstore, it got to a point where he wasn't even pretending to be interested in the books around him anymore, he obviously had come in there to see you again.

rafe had also started coming in early before work started, he looked so good in his carhartt jacket and big boots, not yet dirty from a days work. he'd make sure you were the one to make his coffee, always mumbling something about you having a secret gift as he grinned, letting his hand linger over yours when he'd take his cup.

the tension between the two of you was palpable, your friends and co-workers would make jokes about how no one needed to read romance books in there anymore, they had a whole story playing out in front of them.

you would always laugh and smile at their comments, smitten over the idea of being with rafe but there was always the lingering thought that it was just friendly flirting. nothing more. he probably had a girlfriend, or a wife or something. he was too old and too gorgeous, why would he actually want anything to do with little old you.

these thoughts had you spiralling significantly on one particular day; what if you were wasting all your time and feelings on this older guy that would never want you? would you ever get over him? would you be alone forever?

you were zoning out - hard - as you slid the last few books of your shift onto the shelf, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw him standing in front of you with a grin.

"sorry, did i give you a fright?" he mumbled, steadying you with his touch, "'thought you'd heard me when i said y'name but there must be s'much goin' on in that head of yours."

you took a breathe and smiled weakly at him, not being able to shake your pessimistic thoughts from seconds before as he stood in front of you, handsome and speaking.

"no, sorry- lots on my mind i guess" you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers. rafe's brow furrowed, he'd seen you stressed and frustrated because of work but never like this, anxious and pensive.

he tilted his head a little, "what's wrong hm?" he softly coaxed, looking deep into your eyes as he reached out and rubbed your arm with his thumb.

you looked up at him through your lashes, "nothing.. nothing really..." you mumbled, chewing your lip a little.

his gaze darkened as he watched you, "something you wanna ask me bunny?"

you shook your head after shuddering at the nickname. a nickname only rafe used with you, it never failed to give you goosebumps down your body and cause your thighs to squeeze together a little, "don't worry.. er, i'm about to close up in a minute - you don't mind walking me to my car do you?"

his pursed lips melted into a smile and he looked up for a second before nodding. you smiled at him before finally putting away the last few things and grabbing the bookstore's keys. rafe followed you out as you left the store and locked the doors from the outside.

"cold tonight hmm" rafe remarked, looking out at the dim parking lot and neighbouring streets as he walked close to you. you hummed in agreement, readjusting the jacket tighter around you.

when you finally reached your car you looked up at him with a longing smile before he tilted his head, grinning at you, "you gonna tell me what you were thinking about earlier?"

you shook your head, nerves chewing at your lip again.

"c'mon, 'm not gonna see you tomorrow, 'ts your day off bunny, can't make me just wonder all this time hm?" he playfully whined, inching his body closer to yours. you were a little stunned by his words.

"you remember my day off's tomorrow?" the nerves were rising in your tummy now, bubbling around and exploding.

he smirked, sliding your hand into his, "course i'd know when the only reason i go into that bookshop isn't there."

"rafe" you gushed, covering your face a little and shaking your head. you couldn't believe your ears, you thought you weren't stupid or anything but here you were, hearing that he wanted you the whole time. "i thought you were just.. i don't know, entertaining the idea of me this whole time..."

his lips parted and brow furrowed as if it was completely incomprehensible that he might've not actually wanted you, "bunny... you must be talking pure shit now because i thought i'd made it obvious i wanted you from the second i'd gotten to know you."

you chewed at your lip, heat pooling in your tummy as he instinctively inched closer to you as he spoke. all you wanted to do now was jump his bones, and you kept glancing down at the bulge in his pants as it became closer and closer to you.

he noticed your wandering eyes and laughed a little, throwing his head back before sliding both hands up your arms carefully, "...so you said you don't have heating huh?"

you nodded, feeling dizzy at the realisation of what he was about to ask you.

he scoffed with a grin, "see, i've got heating at my place that works pretty well, and - bunny, with the way you're looking at me right now, i think we're better off going there."

you smiled, staring up at him through your lashes before nodding and in an instant he'd grabbed your hand, leading you to his truck. the drive was probably fairly quick, but it felt like hours of agony to the both of you as you patiently waited. rafe's hand was possessively gripping your thigh and you felt wetness in your panties thinking about where else his hands would trail to.

it was a blur, stumbling out of his truck and into his house, you barely looked at the place before the two of you, sloppy and all over each other, had made it to his bedroom. your body was on vibrate but he took a second to take his huge jacket and long sleeve shirt off.

you breathed heavily, eyes widening when street light through the window illuminated his toned chest, he was built like a greek god and you nearly moaned at the thought of all that being all over you.

he teasingly peeled your clothes off, article by article, grinning all the way. he could see you twitching and heavily breathing at every movement, it only fuelled him more.

finally you were in nothing but panties and a bra, matching of course, which made rafe's eyes go wild, "jesus, look at you." he breathed, running his hands along the side of your body as you lay under him.

you slid your arms around his neck and tried to pull him in but he grinned at your lack of strength and you frowned playfully, squirming at the lack of action.

"you gonna ask nicely bunny?" his lips were centimetres away from yours, he was really enjoying teasing you now.

"please... please i want you inside me so bad" you whined, pouting and running your hands into his shaggy mullet. he smirked and leaned in, passionately pressing his lips to yours, engulfing you in heat.

your hands pulled at his jeans, ripping down the zipper as you slid a palm across his clothed cock, gasping at his lips over how big you found him to be.

he tugged himself out of his boxers before lowering down to your core, you burned with desire as you watched the greek god looming over you, slowly bully his cock into your weeping hole.

you groaned at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt. your grip around his neck tightened, along with his hands holding you steady at your hips.

he drilled into you at an unrelenting pace, the sound of his cock diving in and out of your wet pussy causing him to groan gutturally, "uhghh, you like this big cock baby? c'mon, tell me you've been thinking about daddy's cock since you met me hmm"

you eyes were rolling back, the pleasure becoming too much already, "mmmh i think about daddy's cock all the time... oh! fuuuck."

you looked down at your tummy, a clear huge bulge poking everytime rafe drove his dick into you, only making you dizzier. he was just so big.

a creamy line of arousal was thick around the base of rafe's cock, your breath all ragged as he continued to drill into you, toying with your clit to overstimulate you.

you were shaking under him, one hand gripping onto a bicep and the other tugging the sheets beside you. the sheer girth of him was splitting you open, rafe grinned at the yelps escaping your lips with every thrust.

"pussy's swallowing me whole, fuck bunny" he grunted into your lips, launching in for yet another seering kiss while his thrusts became sloppy but deeper. plap-plap-plap filled the room along with your pornographic moans.

"nghh daddy, i'm- oh, g'na cum!" you cried, nails digging into his flesh.

he was panting into your neck, "'know baby, can feel your pussy milking me- fuuuuuck" you felt the rush of your orgasm as rafe's thick white ropes coated your insides. he continued to thrust into you a few more times, watching your pussy swallow all his cum before pulling out.

"such a good bunny, look at that shit.." he mumbled, dragging a finger over your wet whole, playing with and pushing his release back into you. "so wet..."

he dipped his head down, lapping up both your juices that had coated your folds. you twitched from the sensation, still recovering from his cock.

"rafeee- oh god- too sensitive.." you whined, hand laced in his hair. he lifted his head and looked at you with a grin, his moustache gleaming with wetness.

"oh bunny now that i've had you, shit, i'm never letting my little girl go."

758 notes · View notes

kiyo-cant-write · 6 months ago

Text

ciel & sebastian w/ servant!reader around ciel's age ✧･ﾟ

Hello! My writing blog was always meant to be multifandom, but recently I have had many twst requests. To keep up with my personal interests, here is a Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler post about my childhood bias/crush (when I was 11-12): Ciel Phantomhive.

While this post is tagged Sebastian x Reader, their relationship is platonic in this particular work because of the reader's design.

Please note that while requests are open, they will not be posted until after the 27th of December or more accurately into the new year (January 2025). Feel free to request anything within the parameters of my rules, but keep this scheduling fact in mind! Thank you!

Summary: [Name] is a recent addition to the Phantomhive Staff, gathered by Sebastian and Ciel. They are around Ciel's age and this leads to some... shenanigans.

TW/CW: canon-typical darkness, manga compliant

Notes: pre-relationship (Ciel), explicitly platonic (Sebastian), the reader is human, the reader is 12-13 years old, they/them pronouns for the reader, take place explicitly pre-Campania

Guest Stars: Phantomhive Staff, Elizabeth Midford (mentioned)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Ciel Phantomhive

Ciel is initially indifferent to [Name] similar to his feelings toward his other servants about half of the time (even Sebastian).

He doesn't see himself as a child so does it matter?

He honestly tries to avoid [Name] at first because he wants to be seen as an equal to the adults. Baldo commenting to "play" with his "friend" really doesn't help the early stages of the relationship.

Being persistent but not forceful will work well.

[Name] needs to prove their worth and use in the household.

[Name] will quickly prove themselves with "clean-up."

They will kill in the name of Earl Phantomhive.

Ciel notices their willingness to serve.

He admires their dedication to protecting him/the estate.

He is impressed if they do not hesitate to strike.

The more he realizes their use and loyalty, the more likely he is to speak to them or even allow [Name] to speak freely with him.

He doesn't like when Sebastian teases him for it, though.

Sebastian might be the biggest obstacle.

If Ciel feels that [Name] is being overbearing, they get sent to spend time with Finny (16) who is also relatively close in age to them. Though Finny is similar to a child brother at times.

Once they are closer, Ciel may become a bit irritable if [Name] gives Finny too much attention or coddling.

"He needs to act his own age."

Ciel cannot do anything about any possible feelings.

[Name] hesitates to do anything either.

They both understand the betrothal between Elizabeth and Ciel.

Finny had given them a suggestion that they weren't sure what to do with. Was it a good idea? No. Was it a curious one? Yes, indeed. They wanted to know what the master's response would be, but they feared it would only be anger for their disrespect. Still... tempting.

[Name] considered their options as they helped Finny in the garden.

"Do you really think that would be a good idea?" they asked him.

Finny nodded as he attempted to gently weed the garden. The last time Finny did this he ripped out some important plants and Sebastian had been ready to skin him. Since that happened, and after the events of last night's clean-up, maintenance was needed and Sebastian chose [Name] as "Finny Watch."

[Name] accepted it as it was.

"I think it would do the young master some good to have a friend his age who calls him by name! He doesn't have any friends..."

Finny seemed sad about it. [Name] wondered why Finny did not try to be a "friend" to their master, but Finny seemed to sense their curiosity. He shook his head.

"It can't be me, I'm older than the young master for one," he explained, "And the young master doesn't think of me like that."

"And he thinks of me as a friend?" [Name] chose to ask.

Finny nodded.

"I can tell he thinks differently of you!"

The gardener beamed at them and they didn't want to crush whatever whimsy and joy this was giving him. They sighed and gave in, knowing they wouldn't hear the end of it otherwise, especially after Finny told Baldo and Mey-Rin about it.

"I'll try and see," they agreed.

[SEVERAL HOURS LATER]

At the end of the day, Sebastian asked [Name] to report to the young master directly about their supervision of Finny and the state of the estate's gardens. [Name] walked into the room and bowed to their lord, nodding to Sebastian a moment after.

"Good evening," they spoke, not making eye contact with either.

"Good evening, [Name]," Ciel greeted, taking a sip of his tea as he watched them, "I trust you kept Finny under control?"

[Name] nodded.

"Yes, he took care of replanting and weeding. There were no, ah, plant deaths," they explained in as succinct a way as they could, "We talked as we worked and completed everything Sebastian told us to."

They had to ignore the soft stifled laugh that came from Sebastian when they fumbled for a phrase and chose "plant deaths."

"I see, very good then."

He seemed pleased. The master was in a good mood? Hm. This might be their chance so they took it without hesitation.

"Master, if I may speak freely for a moment?" they asked him

Ciel raised an eyebrow but he nodded slowly after a moment of contemplation.

"You may but whatever about?"

[Name] felt bad for confusing him but it was somewhat refreshing to hear the master speak without that underlying darkness in his tone.

"Finny suggested something to me. I would like to try something," [Name] explained, hoping this wouldn't ruin whatever relationship they did have with the master.

"Something. Very specific," was Ciel's comment, "Go ahead."

Ciel seemed certain [Name] wouldn't hurt him and even if they tried, Sebastian would handle them swiftly like he always did.

"Ah, thank you for your permission... Ciel."

There was a silence that fell over the room as neither child spoke. Ciel was frozen in place, Sebastian seemed to be holding back another laugh, and [Name] was unsure if Finny's theory was true.

A faint hue of pink dusted Ciel's cheeks as he averted his gaze.

"Was," he began, "Was that all you wanted?"

"Yes," [Name] admitted, "I'm sorry, sir."

Ciel was silent once again and [Name] worried they really had crossed a line, but then he spoke again, softer this time.

"It isn't as though I care what you call me when there aren't guests around," he said, waving the hand that wore his family's crest, "Do as you like with the estate's image in mind... I suppose."

[Name] couldn't disguise the smile that took over their features.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Sebastian Michaelis

To be quite frank, Sebastian thinks children are brats.

He didn't want another child around but it cannot be helped because [Name] is useful for the estate's security.

Despite not liking them at first, Sebastian is always "nice."

He is never without a polite smile, it's a bit unnerving.

As [Name]'s work proves proficient, he eases up.

They make fewer mistakes than the others.

Because of this, they are not so annoying to him.

"Child, you would do best not to hinder my work. But if you would like to lend me your help, you may."

He refers to [Name] more often as "child" or "littlest one."

He means they are the youngest of the servants.

He often lets [Name] off easy with punishment, similar to how he never scolds Tanaka the way he does with Baldo, Mey-Rin, Snake, and Finny.

Sebastian likes to make fun of [Name] and Ciel's similar ages.

He allows [Name] to sit in for Ciel's lessons at times.

In the end, Sebastian might be fond of the human.

Still, he won't say that kind of thing. What use would kind words be from someone like him? He doesn't much care for anyone.

He is bound to his master until the end of their contract.

That is all. Right?

"What in the world are you doing?" Sebastian asked as he came up to them, essentially appearing from thin air.

The young servant jumped at the sudden voice in the silence of the cellar and whipped around to face him, dropping their cleaning rag on the floor in the motion. Noting it was Sebastian, they let out a relieved sigh and bent down to pick up the rag.

"Sebastian! You startled me!" they told him, brows furrowed, "Why do you like to sneak up on me like that?"

Sebastian chuckled softly, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I don't mean to. Perhaps you are just easily scared, child?"

"I don't think so," they said softly before they moved to continue their task, "And, I'm not done with this task yet. Did you have something else for me to do?"

They couldn't believe they had more work to do now. That was always why Sebastian came to see them, to give them a task someone else had botched or enlist their help with something else entirely.

"I did," the butler told them, "I seem to require your help with a lesson for the young master."

[Name] paused.

"A lesson?" they asked him, giving a skeptical look though they tried their best to mask it, "Would I be expected to come with you now?"

They were unsure if he was telling the truth. Sebastian enjoyed messing with them, just a little. But it was enough to make [Name] wonder every time the butler told them much of anything. They wanted to go to the lesson, though. Learning was... fun.

Sebastian noticed the look, being a demon and all, but said nothing about it. Instead, he simply nodded and smiled at them as he always did to the guests the manor received.

"Indeed. I would need you to accompany me to the study."

They weighed their options. Sebastian was probably not lying.

"Alright," they agreed a moment later, "Do I need to finish this task first? You did give me a list of things to make certain of here."

Sebastian shook his head.

"No, that won't be necessary. I will take care of it."

They almost bowed to him but caught themself. It was hard to treat Sebastian as a butler when he held himself with as much pride as any man would. Still, the one time they had spoken too highly of him, the young master had gotten upset with them (and Sebastian too).

It had been an... ordeal.

"I see. Thank you, then," they told him curtly though they couldn't help but smile.

A lesson! How fun! They wanted to cheer but didn't.

Even if they were only cleaning the room to spectate, it was a chance to learn things. They would learn something and earl was learning! It seemed like a fairly good deal in [Name]'s opinion.

Too focused on rushing to put away their supplies and head toward Ciel's study, they did not see a softer expression adorn the butler's face as he watched them move past him.

Perhaps they would never know his true affection for his littlest one.

Imagine the rest yourself~

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a kuro-only blog! ^^

677 notes · View notes

hanchette · 1 year ago

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 : ( wind breaker characters )

a/n : THIS IS SO LONG anyway, part 1/3 of long fluff scenarios as you guys voted!!!!

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader, crushing stages/established relationship — giving them bento boxes

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐎, has always been particular in the things he eats and today is no different, except for that fact that you had initially planned to cook for him.

now, suo made a wrong timing or perhaps right? he entered your house with the plan to spend more time with you.

"what are you cooking?" he has his hands hovering around your waist, chin on your shoulder as he looks past your shoulder to see what you are cooking.

"just.. omelette."

"i see~"

you expected him to let go of you and allow you to cook in peace but suo never part from you, one curious eye looking content to watch the the sizzle of the egg as it turns from translucency to yellow.

there's something so domestic with just this that you can't help but allow the silence the linger, "it smells nice."

"food are supposed to smell nice suo." you smile, "like natto."

there's a stiff silence, and you're made briefly aware of how his arms snaked around your middle, face leaning towards you as his breath fans your ear, lips brushing against your lobe.

"I'm not sure about that." his soft and lovingly kind voice tinted with seriousness that it just wants you to fall into heaps of giggles.

"i am." you continue, finding how his displeasure for the natto somewhat hilarious. suo, although still maintaining the usual smile, stiffen more through his actions.

his arms squeezing you lightly as a small warning, "you do know that natto doesn't smell like anything." he adds, although the tone of his voice sounds a tad just defensive.

"i'm kidding~ you know i won't add natto to the food."

"i wasn't saying anything."

"you didn't have to."

it went on like that, small comments and bickers as the two of you stand in the kitchen with you preparing the box, suo every so now and then helping you out with great patience. "why do you have to put it in a box?" suo questions, washing the used dishes diligently as he looks at your 'masterpiece' as you decorate it.

"i was supposed to give it to you." supposed to, but he did dropped by rather early and now you were left with presenting it to him even though the two of you did it.

"ahhh." suo blink owlishly before a smile erupts, "i see."

squeezing the water out of his hands, he then picked a nearby napkin to dry his hand quick and then went to your side, assessing your work. "how creative, so you can make various shapes with it."

"that and animals, like this!" you showed him, making quick work with the nori seaweed to add final touches to the bento, showing it to him with great pride.

suo claps his hands in a proud motion, "you know, y/n-chan, if you give this to a child, they'll be genuinely happy." he comments, humming in delight upon looking at the various shapes and designs that you did using the food.

"really?"

"yeah, you'll make a great spouse/wife/husband." suo smiles.

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐍, "hah..?" kaji has heard of bento boxes, but he never received one personally. no matter how famous he is as a member of bofurin, kaji is also infamous for his unsavory personality as others would describe him.

"what is this?" he stares at the sunny egg that stares at him, looking like a mischievous child with its mouth curving like that of a cat.

"a bento..?" you blinked, looking at his reaction as he reluctantly covers it, "you gave it to the wrong person." kaji gives it back to you, hand outstretched.

you smile at him, lightly pushing the bento box back to him, "no, i think i gave it to the right person, kaji-san." you replied, cocking your head to the side while kaji stares at you, seemingly skeptical before putting the box back on his lap with silence.

he's seated on the side of the street where you found him, near a stairway that leads to a small quaint bridge all alone, according to him, kusumi and enomoto both went for a bit to get something quick from the konbini.

"..." kaji stayed silent, looking at the given present, biting into his sucker as the crystallized candy cracks and breaks into pieces only for him to swallow them and pocket the stick—most likely to throw it later.

the thing with kaji, you would always see him wearing his headphones and taking his suckers, but whenever you're around, somehow, his headphones are off and he'd bite into the sucker to crack the candy in order to throw the stick—therefore, he can talk to you clearly.

he uncovers it once again, staring at the laid out cutesy designed food in front of him, he blankly looks at the food before taking the chopsticks that are set on the side.

he hesitantly takes a bite, as if afraid of ruining your work. though kaji is known with his temper, he can be surprisingly gentle. "so, how is it?" you inquire, smiling at him as you watch his cheeks puff as he chews.

he didn't opt to talk, choosing to chew everything before answering.

"it's delicious..."

he placed another food in his mouth. his reply made you beam in relief, somehow he had enjoyed it.

"then! i'll make sure to bring you another one again!" you settled into a decision, taking a seat beside him on the stair.

"it's unnecessary." he clicks his tongue, taking another bite.

"i want to though."

kaji went silent once again, you can't tell if it is because he is busy eating or thinking about your response too deeply, when he swallows the food, he finally replies. "do what you want."

and with the permission given, you beamed, happy that you'll be able to do atleast even this much for kaji.

the two you sit in silence, it's not awkward, no you'd disagree, rather, it's an itching feeling like a rash attempting to crawl its way except there is none.

you didn't even realized how much you've gone out of reality until you hear slight clanking from your sides. "eh? you're done already?"

and in some way, you can't stop the smile from coming back just to see kaji scowl as he looked away, tucking the box and dirtied chopsticks away. "tch."

"pass it here, i can clean that when i get home." you opened your palm, outstretched as you await for him to place the box in your hands.

"no."

"no?" you raised an eyebrow, watching as kaji tucked it beside him.

"i can clean it up," he exhaled, one of his hand going inside the pocket of his pants to retrieve a sucker, "then imma give it back to you next time."

"you don't have to trouble yourself with that you know, kaji-san." you tried again, finding yourself lost why he won't hand it to you.

kaji stood up, the box under his arm, his back facing you. "ren."

"huh?"

"when i give it back to you next time," kaji paused, looking at you through his shoulder, "call me ren."

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, sat on one of the stalls, fanning himself as he popped open a bottled tea, taking a sip before dropping it back down on a table beside him.

the festival is only starting, the lanterns light flicker, swaying left and right in a calming but hypnotizing motion.

you followed sitting beside him with a sigh, able to take a break from the onslaught of customers. today is the same as any other, jo would invite you with him to help the elders in the festival set up and sell their goods. and you would accompany him willingly.

this has been a ritual for how many long now, ever since you met him when he was nothing yet but a middle schooler, now he's in his second year.

it's been a while.

"here." you felt something cool press on your cheek, turning to the side to see togame grinning at you, his hand pressing the cool tea on your cheek. "drink up."

you graciously accepted it, opening the cap as you stare at it. he..

he gave you his own drink..

you shake your head, getting rid of the thoughts before taking a sip.

"heh, that good, yeah?" togame leans forward, his hand holding his head up as he places it on his thigh, watching you chug a good amount. "it must've been tiring, sorry for always troubling you to come with me."

"don't be." you closed the drink, setting back down as you look at him, "i willingly followed you, plus, it doesn't hurt to help every now and then."

a soft grin follows, his lips twitching up as he chuckles lightly, "i thought so."

"ahhhh, I sure am hungry, you wanna grab something real quick?" togame offers, jabbing behind his shoulder where an array of stalls are lined up.

you are suddenly aware of what you had finished this morning. how you meticulously crafted a lunch box to give to togame, frying omelettes and shaping them to small rilakkuma bears, that and how you meticulously shapes the rice balls into more makeshift animals.

"ah, actually-!" you cut yourself, unsure if you should really give it.

would he even like it?

"hm? what's wrong?" togame looks back at you curiously, blinking in surprise as he patiently waits for you to answer.

no matter how loud the festival is, all you could hear is the persistent thump thump thump of your little heartbeat. still, you harden your resolve.

it's the only opportunity you have to confess to him!

"i brought be- bento.." curse it all! was it necessary to stutter? no! so why did you?! it's the nerves that are messing you all up, you breathe out a deep exhale. "ah.." togame's eyes widen in surprise before it morph into a pleased grin.

"you should've said so, chibi-chan." he reaches, ruffling your hair and messing them up, but you couldn't care less for now—not when his large hands, cold from touching the cool tea, are on your head.

sure, togame has been someone you've known for a while now, but even then, you've never shown any interest to deepen whatever kindred that the two of you shared, afraid of widening the gaps if you pour your heart out to him.

togame whistles, gently taking the bag from your shaking hands, "nice one, chibi-chan."

"i told you not to call me that repeatedly." you murmured, slightly pouty but you never sulked, he merely laughs at you, opening the box to reveal nothing but a hidden treasure.

sure, you had burnt a few of it, but nothing too serious to cause food poisoning.

"hmm, they're all animals." he chuckles, popping one of the sushi in his mouth.

"that's because you're an animal." you bicker with him, attempting to hide the look of unrequited adoration through it. this is why, why your relationship with him never fell. never soared. "really now?"

you opened your mouth, but is immediately greeted by a food in your mouth. "chew." togame says, watching as you do so with a chuckle.

there isn't much you could do but follow or waste a perfectly good food after all. "then, if i get to pick what i am..."

"maybe a tern?"

"what is that?"

"a bird."

"why the hell would you pick a bird?" you question, togame merely shrugs, taking another bite and giving another one to you, before he could throw another in his mouth, he points at the paper beside you—which was primarily used to count the sales coming in.

you gave it to him alongside a pen, he wrote something briefly before giving it to you, "here, search it later?" he feeds you another, all the while you grumble why he's continuously feeding you.

when you went home, you opened the paper inside your pocket, going to google to search it only to gasp in shock, flustered.

Courtship feeding is frequently seen in terns.

𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄, you owed him a lot. umemiya has saved you a bunch of times more than you can count and you're aware of that.

the only saving grace you could offer him was giving him mundane things to showcase your gratitude, and now here you are walking towards the famous school known as bofurin with a lunch bag in your hands.

umemiya has told you many times how much you are welcome to come and visit, although you never had the courage to do so until now.

calm down, calm down, calm down you tell yourself, head hung low and lips pursed as you walk through the halls, feeling gazes on you. they pierce through you that shivers run down your back although you kept on walking. it's fine, you could only assure yourself, after all, tasuku-chan is beside you, making sure that no one will bother you.

"are you nervous?" tsubakino asked, his hand on yours, "don't be!" he encourages, attempting to lift up your spirits as he led the two of you to the top of the school grounds.

you often wonder how he can always be so confident. it's nice. "if anything happens, you can always call me, okay?" he bids you, giving you a sweet wink before closing the door and allowing you privacy.

privacy as you enter the rooftop in search of the man who always intrudes in your mind.

"umemiya-san?"

"hm? ah! it's you y/n-chan! wassup?" umemiya notices you in a second, a grace of a smile on his face as he wiped his sweat from the beat of the heat on him as he water his vegetables. "look look!" he ushers you excitedly, and you follow.

ending up beside him as you peer at whatever he is pointing at in a giddy manner. "the tomatoes are already turning ripe!"

so it seems, the shade ranges from a pretty green to gradient of yellowish red. it's growing. "pretty isn't it?" he wears a charming look on his face as he asked.

"uhm, umemiya-san," you started, digging through your bag to offer him a nicely wrapped box, "i came to give my thanks for yesterday.. you know what happened and how i dragged you to my mess then-.." you babbled.

a part of you panicked, what if he won't accept it? oh no what if you burnt something? worse, he doesn't like it?!

before you could talk more, umemiya presses his palm on your mouth, "y/n-chan." he calls your name, unlike before, the excited cheer is gone, replaced by a tender feeling that always has your tummy reeling that sometimes you think you'll need to ask hiiragi for some of his gas-kun10.

"thank you." he tells you, a sincere look in his eyes, "and don't be sorry, you are a part of this town, of course i will always help you."

he takes off his hand, "just call my name and i will come." a part of your mind silences, thinking that you are nothing but somebody to umemiya no matter how hard you try. a part of the town.

but the way he looks so genuine, so sweet as he smiles and looks at you overpowers everything that there's nothing more you can hear but the thudding in your own heart.

umemiya takes the bento from your hands, "now then! bento are better eaten together!"

classic umemiya pulls you up, tugging you to the shed where you know he always held his meeting with his grade captains and his trusty teams.

"uwaahh! these are so good! is that an egg made into a star inside a sushi? ohhh! there's even an octo sausage!" you watch as his face break into a grin, assessing each food with a pleased look.

"itadakimasu!" umemiya takes a bite, humming in delight upon chewing, "so good!" you're sure that if he is an anime, there's flowers all around him.

"here, y/n-chan, ahhh."

"me?!" you gasped, pointing at yourself, "well yeah, we can share, there's enough for the two of us."

"but-"

"after all, i love eating food with you." how could you say no nor argue any further to that?

reluctantly, you agreed, opening your lips to take a bite off of the chopsticks held towards you, "thank you."

"you're a good cook, y/n-chan." umemiya comments with a bright expression, "i wouldn't mind if you cook for me in the future too." somehow, his words felt deeper than it should be.

2K notes · View notes

crimsonmochi · 6 months ago

Text

Personal ― S. Gojo

Synopsis. Pornstar!Satoru is used to fucking for money's sake. It's something he does often and something he does really fucking well. When he is requested to guest you, however, it shocks everyone to see an immediate energy shift.

Pairing. Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Content. MDNI, fem! pornstar! reader, chubby! reader implied, gender neutral pronouns used for reader, no use of "y/n", smut, p in v, cunnilingus, slight choking, some semblance of onlyfans, pussydrunk! gojo, gojo is left handed canon, a little bit pathetic, and a little nasty, probable breaches of work boundaries, no beta

Word Count. 3.9k

Parts. one | two

A/N. baby's first jjk fic, be gentle </3 please give me feedback and lmk if i forgot some tags :3 reposts encouraged!

Rain dribbled and splattered on the window, the tiny water beads reflecting and refracting the dim light from Satoru's phone. He sat upright on his bed, muscular back against the headboard, upper arms aching from his last session two days prior. He had reluctantly agreed to participate in a "professional"―which, to Satoru, was just a word for more work, smaller pay―shoot with some girl he could barely remember the name of.

The result? The director had barked at him to put himself in impossible positions for the camera's sake, which left his limbs sore and not in a good way. Satoru forced the scene to end, left with his money and a vow to himself to never ever work for studios again. He hated being told what to do, especially from guys who don't actually have what it takes.

While painkillers and a nice massage from the spa below his apartment complex did not eradicate the pain, it did make it much more tolerable.

Satoru's thumb swiped across the screen, scrolling through comments from his latest post, a message to his subscribers asking for content ideas. Sure, he did not like being told what to do, but being kindly suggested by his fans to fulfill their desires was different. In the end, he was still in control.

And it probably won't land him in a pharmacy either.

The request that Satoru found came up the most was for him to do ASMR; some fans wanted to hear those pretty praises, those filthy words he gives to his co-stars, spoken to them instead. Although the idea was alluring, Satoru would rather be on camera than behind a fancy microphone in a recording booth—primarily because he was too proud to opt out of showing his god-crafted body (that cocky bastard). But then again, he could find a way to do both...

He shelved that idea for later.

Other requests were suggestions of people to shoot with. Some popular names came up, women and men he had already filmed with and didn't find too interesting. He could fake it, of course; he was an actor, it was half of his job―but he would be unsatisfied with the end result.

Satoru was about to quit reading requests, bored and uninspired until his cerulean eyes stuck themselves to a particular comment. The space between his eyebrows creased as his eyebrows furrowed. It was a subscriber recommending another star, explaining how they weren't very well known, but they believed them and Satoru would make a great pair.

The wording was not what caught his attention, he had gotten plenty of requests with the same exact sentence before. No, it was the name, your page's name―which, to Satoru, felt familiar yet distant. He hadn't shot with you before, no, that wasn't it. Yet he was certain he knew you, knew of you at least.

His thumb reached for the search bar to type in your alias, his eyelids flickering when his gaze fell on your profile, your soft face on display. Satoru felt his length chub up in his boxers, soft lips parting to accommodate for a sudden need of oxygen.

Just as his subscriber said, you were less popular than him, with less than half the number of subscribers he had and an inarguably cheaper paywall in front of your content. Memories of happily searching for his new credit card numbers to pay for your videos came back rushing to him, memories only a few months old.

Satoru recalled seeing a preview and being immediately smitten by your pretty figure, your plush thighs and your tummy, that tiny thrill in your eyes. Fuck, how he had spent half of his revenue giving you tips on an anonymous account―just to obtain a personalized picture of just those pretty thighs, fisting his aching cock to that image for days.

Just looking at that profile again, oh my god.

His eyes laid on the subscription button. He did not even bother getting on an alt account this time to press it, watching the confirmation request pop up on his screen to gather his fingerprint in order to complete the purchase. When the paywall finally went away, Satoru let out a breath he wasn't even aware of holding, his hand travelling to his boxers, palming himself through his briefs as he scrolled.

And oh, he was gone again.

Satoru had never sent a message to his agent that frantically in his life, asking her―no, begging her to contact you to secure a shoot with you. Asked her to do whatever she could to get you in the studio.

The next few days went by without a reply from your part, and Satoru was going mad. He could not remember being this nervous for anyone, this needy. In between sessions of overthinking (maybe he should have asked you himself or maybe offered something more), he found himself replaying videos of yours he had already seen, notably the ones with other men. He knew them by heart.

Those guys didn't seem to appreciate you nearly as much as you needed, as much as you deserved. It pissed him off beyond what he thought was possible, yet made him so hard; He knew he could fuck you so much better than those amateurs you were with, pleasure you in ways they wouldn't even dare.

Unbeknownst to Satoru, you were just intimidated by his offer. Too much money from too big of a creator and an offer that seemed too good to be real to not hold a catch, which is why you did not answer right away, anxiously weighing the implications. It wasn't until he, in a moment of pure desperation and haze, shot you a private message confirming the offer that you replied, shyly agreeing.

From then on, Satoru could barely contain himself, daydreaming about everything he could do to you with his left hand eagerly moving up and down his cock, breathy exhales escaping his mouth and shaky fists gripping his bedsheets. Too often, he found himself checking the calendar on his phone, awaiting the shoot date, disappointed every time that it was still the 15th instead of the long-awaited 21st. Satoru Gojo did not exactly believe himself to be a patient man.

He sent you little messages throughout the week with ideas and reassuring messages. He wanted to know everything about you, your likes and dislikes, what you thought of him, how your body worked, and how he could get you to whine and moan for him.

On the day of the shoot, Satoru was almost unrecognizable to others involved―his agent and the friends he'd stopped to visit on his way to his studio. The man people had described as cocky, overly confident, and self-absorbed was reduced to a nervous, lost-in-thought mess. All because of you, the pretty little thing he would get to have his hands on later that evening.

He'd showered three times, spent too long in his room figuring out what clothes to wear, as if that would matter, and freaked out over his hair. His hair.

And when you finally arrived at the studio with your assistant, he nearly forgot how to breathe. That, or he was purposely holding back for fear of scaring you off, this cute little thing before him. You introduced yourself, pretty eyes gazing up at him, taking a second to admire each and every one of his features. As soon as he saw your smile, here in person, he told himself he could die happy.

Well, he could die happy after having a taste of you.

You were shy while introducing yourself to him. The interaction could easily have been misread as awkwardness, and that was what Satoru would have gone with, too, if he didn't know any better (if he didn't think so highly of himself). Your softer voice, your pretty eyes, god, those eyes. He could tell you might've had a tiny crush on him as well, and he would be lying if he said it didn't make his head reel.

Your assistant all but confirmed it when you excused yourself to the restroom, admitting that you hadn't stopped gushing about this opportunity since you got it.

And when you got back, he had the most annoying smirk and glint in his eyes, looking down at you.

After discussing what he wanted for the scene, making sure you were comfortable and willing to participate―a gentleman, truly, asked you so many times that you started chuckling your answers―he had his agent and your assistant leave the studio after you agreed to dismiss them. He did not mind an audience, but he wanted this to be personal.

"I film all my own shit anyways," he hummed, hopping behind the camera to adjust the angle.

In the film room of the studio was a bedroom set with a queen-sized bed with navy sheets and a wooden frame. A sliding-door closet with mirrors stood tall on the left side, and a bedside table on the right.

The scene you and Satoru agreed upon was vanilla, but he was pleased with the gist of it. Any way he could have you is a way he'd be pleased with, however. It didn't really matter how for the time being.

You sat in the middle of the bed, your back against the cold headboard and palms against the soft sheets, gazing at Satoru as he grumbled at the camera, shifting through the studio to find a new battery with his lips pursed in a pout. It amused you, seeing a different side of him.

It was only three minutes later that he climbed onto the bed, knees against the mattress as he moved towards you, those blue eyes staring at your frame through those pale lashes. He moved to straddle you, his back straight, his body looming over yours.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," mumbled Satoru, his hand firmly landing on the headboard to support himself, making a louder sound than he intended. "You tell me if I'm too much for you, alright, pretty?" he followed in a softer tone.

You nodded, the pad of your index landing on his shoulder and travelling down his torso, trailing close to the sweatpants he wore. Satoru reached his own unoccupied palm to your face, his fingers hooking themselves at the nape of your neck to pull you towards him. His nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips with his.

Satoru had never felt drunk on a kiss until you entered his studio.

As if a switch flipped in his head, he kept you closer to him, desperate and unwilling to pull away from your lips. He breathed shakily, his minty breath fanning over your mouth.

"Oh, you're good at this," he laughed, an arrogant laugh that made your pussy ache.

"Yeah?" you murmured.

"Yeah."

The hand on your cheek moved to your throat, squeezing at the sides―not enough to hurt, just to make oxygen sparse in your system. "I'll make you feel good, sweetheart, hm? I'll do better than those fucking losers on your page."

The sweetest words said oh so cruelly.

Although it was increasingly hard for you to think, you were able to click the pieces together pretty quick, your eyes widening and your pupils dilating.

'Fourth wall break wasn't part of the plan.

Oh.

He watched.'

Satoru's gaze had changed. Deep, yet precise in conveying the exact energy desired. A short, almost inaudible gasp escaped your lips, and fuck, he fed on that, on your reactions to him, no matter how small or insignificant. It mattered to him.

Warm fingers slipped under your the black camisole hugging your body before you could even notice his hand had left your throat, caressing your skin until he his the jackpot, massaging the same breasts he had spent hours looking at only within the past week.

"Oh-ho— nothing, no bra for me?" Satoru chuckled. He captured your nipple between his index and his thumb, rolling and pinching at it until it pebbled, drawing out a whimper from your lungs.

Satoru was fascinated by what he had under his hand, taking a too-curious approach to exploring, as if he had never seen or felt another body before this point in his life. He took his time to gently remove the fabric off of your body, imagining all the ways he could bind and explore it, worship it, cum all over those pretty tits—

It wasn't until he felt your soft hands trying to discard his shirt that he snapped out of his haze, realizing he was fucking up the pacing.

Satoru latched his mouth to one of your breasts, biting and sucking gingerly while he focused on getting you out of those tight leggings you wore just for him, that truly left nothing to the imagination. He frantically worked to get those white laced panties out of the way with a tad more force than he should have, causing a tear to rip into the fabric.

"Satoru—" you gasped, only halfway acting.

"I'll get you another pair," he groaned against your chest, licking over one of the bite marks he had left before unlatching to look down.

Satoru's brain short-circuited.

Sure, he's seen your body time and time over, but that had only ever been through the careful separation of a screen, a paywall. It was different to have access to it, to be able to touch and feel.

He thanked his earlier self for asking if he could eat you out, for now, getting to have your supple thighs around his face and neck. Fuck, he could really die happy now.

Satoru caught sight of your dripping cunt, juices dripping and latching onto your skin. He felt hungry for what seemed to be the first time in his life, moving down your body to kiss right over your mound, your scent filling his senses.

"Oh, s-shit, look at that," said Satoru.

Had he just stuttered?

He nudged his nose in between your folds, brushing against your clit with a swiftness that made your figure jolt. He chuckled, moving his arms to trap your hips and pin them to the mattress, muscles flexing under his skin to intimidate.

"God, she wants me so bad."

Satoru languidly licked up and down your slit, careful to miss your sensitive bud in the meanest way. He whimpered at the taste of you on his tongue, sweet in a natural way, catching both you and himself off guard. If his face wasn't buried in your cunt, you could have seen the faint blush creep to the surface of his cheeks.

"You ever had someone do this, sweet'art?" he mumbled against your heat, lips finally latching on to your clit.

"N-No, not really," you sighed.

"Mh," Satoru hummed disapprovingly, toying with the bundle of nerves between his teeth, one of his arms sneaking away from your hips. He teased his ring finger at your entrance. "You're, fuck- fuck― you're so― taste so good..."

He pushed his finger past the ring of muscle until he was knuckles deep, groaning before he returned his mouth to your clit, sucking in small intervals as he pumped in and out of your velvety walls. Satoru whined when your hand flew to his hair.

And when you moaned for him, he was a goner. He noticed the usually loud and audibly altered sounds had turned saccharine and almost timid.

You had been faking your moans?

He snickered at his realization, breaching through the noise of your moans and the quiet slurps. "I think she loves me," said Satoru in between breaths.

"Wha-, who―"

"Wasn't talking to you, love." Satoru's words drastically contrasted with his soft tone.

He punctuated his sentence by curling his digits to find and abuse that spongey spot, earning a string of nonsense words and whines from you, only encouraging his endeavour. The soft squelch of your pussy around his fingers and his mouth was enough to drive him to buck his hips toward the mattress.

When Satoru felt your soft thighs tighten around his head, he forced himself to pull away, grunting as you desperately moved to grip your fingers in his hair, trying to keep him there. If he hadn't had such strong convictions, he might have stayed down there for the rest of his life, dying happy with his face buried in your pretty cunt.

Satoru straightened his form, his fingers pulling out to find your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. You protested, whining pathetically.

"I know, I know, sweet girl, I'm sorry. Wanna... wanna have you cum on my cock. Can y'do that love? Want you all over me.."

He was mumbling, staring into your eyes with his pupils blown wide. The blue of his irises was overtaken by those black orbs, capturing you in his sight. His chin was wet and dripping, and his lips were slightly swollen.

A gorgeous mess for you to gaze upon.

Satoru's eyes dropped down to the sweatpants he threw on earlier (and called Suguru about just to make sure it looked "casual but not fuckboy"―Suguru called him a dumbass and hung up), carefully bunching up the fabric as well as his boxers before pushing down. Hissing as his length perked up, angry and weeping pre, he breathed a little heavier than before, his shoulders rising and falling. Satoru hadn't felt this worked up in months, maybe years, all from this.

For you.

And you would not be lying saying that had to be the prettiest dick you'd ever seen.

"Shit― look at that, hah," Satoru softly chuckled. "Lift your legs up f'me, pretty, come on.."

He grinned down at you as he helped you push your knees up to your limit, delicately placing your ankles on his shoulders and leaning his torso forward. Satoru placed one of his palms behind your cranium, a small yet protective measure.

"This okay?" asked Satoru, nudging his tip against your folds, collecting your slick to drench his cock, gliding over your clit.

"Y-Yeah, this is fine..."

It was rare for you to be nervous, given that you were used to having sex, filming it, and posting it for hundreds to see. Intercourse was not something you had any insecurities about. Usually.

What caught you off guard was the look in Satoru's eyes, the way he carried himself with a gentleness foreign to anything you've seen from him.

Satoru leaned down to press kisses against your jawline, open-mouthed and delicate, exhaling as he guided his length past your entrance, satisfied at the small gasp he heard from your lips.

"Oh my god, it's even fucking better than I imagined," said Satoru, his voice strained.

He could feel the stretch, your walls fluttering to accommodate him, still so tight and fuck―the tiny high-pitched, almost inaudible whimpers that escaped your throat.

"Don't know if I'll be able to pull out, sweet girl, hah―shit―she's sucking me in, look."

"Then don't," you mumbled, turning your head to meet his lips.

"You can't say shit like that," Satoru scoffed.

"Why not? I want it."

If you were simply pretending for the camera, that was some damn good acting. Good enough to turn Satoru into putty in your hold, to shut his brain off and make him act on instinct alone, script be damned.

Satoru pushed in until his pelvis hit your flesh, his hold on you faltering in strength momentarily, a helpless expression on his face. He listened to your quiet whines, his free hand returning to your clit in hopes of easing the strain.

"Just fuckin' perfect, holy fuuuck―" he strained out.

He withdrew his fingers from your clit to taste you once more, addicted. He drew his hips back slowly, just enough to leave about an inch inside, before thrusting back in at a slightly faster pace, setting a rather slow, intimate rhythm for you to follow.

Satoru watched as your breath picked up, how the slow rock of his hips made your eyes unfocus, and your mouth hang open. He watched as your forehead started to sweat, how your hair moved along his movements.

More importantly, Satoru listened. He heard those moans, shakier and uncalculated. He knew he wasn't crazy earlier when he had the reflection that you had been faking them.

Actually pathetic, those "men" you had been with.

"You're so pretty, y'know that?" Satoru mumbled, out of his mind. Like he was a schoolboy talking to his second-period crush. "So pretty... s'not fair..."

"H-Huh―?"

"S'not fair how it's gonna be―mh, shit―over, how s'gonna be over."

Satoru angled his hips differently, aiming for that spongey spot he had found earlier. That said, he would have had to be able to think straight to get it on the first try; which he could not, not when he was buried deep inside your cunt.

"W-What―aah, fuck, Satoru~"

You couldn't recall any shoots you had done―or any sex you had had at all, actually―that felt as good as Satoru.

"Right there, right? S'that i-it?"

He drove his movements faster, his pelvis hitting the back of your thighs and your ass with a louder SMACK! than it did previously, his breaths becoming further shallow and desperate. His skin grew increasingly damp as his efforts increased, and what were previously grunts turned to shameless moans, whines and whimpers, wanton and needy.

The man was losing his mind, so unlike anything you had seen from him.

Satoru's thrusts soon became erratic and uncoordinated, his face buried in your neck, drinking all of the sounds you were making like he was getting drunk on them.

"Can't... won't last l-long, okay? M'sorry I can't..." Satoru wailed.

His hand found your breast, flicking at your nipple in hopes of making you cum faster, needing to feel you. You were teetering on the edge, and he could feel it, feel how your pussy drew him in.

"Y'know you've been― y'been teasing me for two fuckin' weeks―aah... shitshitshit, so so g-good―two weeks." He paused to groan, pinching your flesh between his index and thumb to elicit a reaction from you. "Can't get enough of you, you're so―and you know it, you fuckin' know it too, I-I know y'do."

"Satoru! So close, please d-don't stop," you yelped, walls constricting around his length.

"Y-Yeah, pretty, I know, fuck―I know, sweet thing. I got you," Satoru panted and tightened his grip on the back of your head as if to brace for impact. "Y'do know how to drive me fuckin' crazy, with―mh, you're so soft and pretty, m-makes me want to quit the business, make you my own, God, make you my pretty wife."

Satoru's mind was running on overdrive, trying to keep up with what the fuck he was saying and making sure you felt good, as good as him. No easy task.

"Shit, gonna make you mine, I promise, fuck―"

His his stuttered as he spilled himself inside you, crying out like a wounded animal. It felt too good, it was too much.

Satoru kept going, although fucked out of his mind, determined to make you cum. He lapped up the sweat from your neck, not caring if it was nasty, while he reached down to your clit once more, slapping the sensitive bud a few times, stopping when he felt your cunt constrict and clench around him, a nice little ring of creamy mixed arousal forming at the base of his cock, gliding down your ass and spilling on the bedsheets.

"Such a mess, oh my God," Satoru whined.

He gathered some on two of his fingers, wiping it right off of your skin. "Taste it f'me, pretty," Satoru groaned.

He could have ascended to heaven right then as you wrapped your lips around his digits, glossy eyes peering up at him through your lashes.

"I gotta keep you."

Parts. one | two

818 notes · View notes

domxmarvel · 2 months ago

Text

P*rnstar

Masterlist

Pairing: Billie eilish x Female!Reader

The work you do carried a heavy stigma but you didn't care,and the money more than made up for it. You had plenty of fans,mostly older rich men who had nothing better to spend their money on,but you also had plenty of women watching you. One in particular being very active,you'd see her username on almost every post you made.

One of your most loyal fans,you were getting ready for a new livestream. It was more casual,and of course the very first person there as usual her user name popped up.

Billiee00: "Hey baby" her message appeared on your screen. She usually either call you baby or pornstar.

"Hey,Billie" you said back,watching as other people joined the live.

Billiee00: "You look really pretty tonight" She kept her attention on you,commenting on your looks,your outfit and your surroundings. Clearly having a bit of a crush on you.

"Thank you" you subtly posed for her "I remember you told me you liked this makeup last time."

Billiee00: "That's why you're my fav" It was almost a challenge to see how well you paid attention to her,her messages and things she said. Maybe it was a little obsessive. Soon the viewers went from 156 to 680 making the comments flow in,her comments being drowned by the others.

“Show a little more skin babe!”

“How did you start doing this stuff”

“Is this gonna get hot?”

“You look so hot” A few people asked how long the stream would go for,others giving you tips and advice. But most people were just horny,and most of the guys were trying to get your actual attention and keep you entertained. The sound of the tip notification rang out,with the name of the user who had sent you a tip. The top of the screen displaying the username and the amount. Most of them where small amounts,just 5-10 dollars or so from different users,since it was still early in the stream. But one of them was a 100 dollar tip,causing you to look down in surprise at the username.

Billiee00: "That was me,you look extra pretty in those next panties." It was only a few moments before more people tipped,a few people trying to out do her tip,but she just kept out tipping them. She wanted to be the top tipper. You appreciate her jealous and how she wanted all your attention,and you did also enjoy how it made you more money thanks to her. In the span of around 10 minutes,she had doubled the amount of the tips that you made. She loved seeing you so focused on her,like she was your main priority and everyone else was just an afterthought.

"I'll make this a bit more fun,five minutes and then my top tipper will get to pick what I wear for Wednesday's live" That grabbed peoples attention,even hers. The tip notifications where coming in at a rapid pace now,people wanting to be your top tipper so they could pick your outfit for the next stream. It was almost too fast to keep up with,people tipping hundreds at a time. Clearly they all wanted to be the ones to pick your outfit,it was like a competition to them,and of course she was going to win. There was about 10 seconds left on the timer and the highest tipper wasn't her,it was a guy who was currently sitting at 600$ but there were still seconds left. You counted out loud the remaining seconds."Five four three two one" and just as you said 'one' a notification rang out with her name,she had waited until the last second so no one could out tip her.

Billiee00: "What do you think of my last second surprise?” There it was,she'd tipped you 1000$. Now everyone knew she had the best tipping power,and if anyone wanted to prove her wrong they'd have to outdo her first.

"I'd say I owe you a private show for that"

Billiee00: "You'd do that for me?"

"Anything for my best client"

Billiee00: "When can we do it?"

“I'll send you a message and we can work it out,also think about what you want me to wear"

Billiee00: "I already know what I want you to wear." The chat was now filled with people being jealous. They had a good reason to be jealous,she was getting an actual private show from you,and in anything she wanted. Nothing they could tip or say would get them to that level with you. She was more than happy to let them know it too. Billiee00: "You all wish you were getting a private show"

You wrapped up the show and messaged Billie.

"What do you want me to wear?" You asked,wondering what she had in mind.

Billiee00: "Have you any fishnets? preferably in black"

"I have fishnets,what else?"

Billiee00: "How about a skirt,a really short one"

"And the top?"

Billiee00: "I'd like you to wear a crop top,I love it when you wear them" After you were dressed you set up your camera and started the show for her. Immediately she sent you a message. Billiee00: "I want to see you twirl around for me" You pushed your computer chair away and stood up,slowly twirling to show off the outfit. Billiee00: "You look so amazing in that,I knew I picked well."

"You always do," You said,sitting back down.

Billiee00: "Can I request something else?"

"Anything for me favorite subscriber"

Hours later you messaged her.

"By the way,you still have to think about what you want me to wear for Wednesday's stream. You still won that after all." You reminded her.

Billiee00: "I've actually already decided"

"Does it have something to do with the package I received?"

Billiee00: "You already got it? It was quick,I figured it would take a few days"

"I haven't opened it yet but I'll unbox it on Wednesday”

Billiee00: "You have to promise to open it on stream then,I want to see you wearing it as soon as possible"

"I promise"

On Wednesday you started the stream,watching the comments flood in. Many comments were being flooded,all of them tipping and asking for different things. Some were even asking about things you had done in the private stream. But her comments still caught your eye. She had tipped you a few times already,but the amount she was tipping was much more than the other people. She wanted to be noticed and make sure everyone knew that you were her favourite to tip and that she was the one who got a private show.

"Yes,Billie I see you" you knew she was trying to get your attention. "You got my attention"

Billiee00: "Of course I want your attention,baby" You held up the box,talking to the camera.

"I got your package and I'll open it on camera like you asked." You opened it to find a pair of lace panties and an oversized shirt. The panties were new but the shirt had been worn and smelled of perfume. It was her shirt,that's what she wanted you to wear. As you took out the piece of fabric,it was obvious it was hers. The lingering scent of the perfume was sweet,and it was easy to tell that it was hers,it was just like she was there in the room with you.

Billiee00: "You like my little gift?"

"Of course when you get the choice it's not something scandalous,it's just your shirt" You chuckled.

Billiee00: "Take the shirt,take it and put it on" Her name popped up along with another notification $200

"Of course I'm gonna wear it" You stripped on camera,slowly putting on a show. She was throwing tips and comments rapidly your way.

Billiee00: "Keep going,baby I want to see more." $300

Billiee00: "Mmm,my favourite little show girl. Looking so beautiful for me." $150

Billiee00: "You look so sexy in it, my baby" $400

Billiee00: "You look amazing in my shirt. So beautiful and just for me" $350

"Slow down there,don't want you running out of money" You winked,putting on her shirt,you knew that wasn’t a fear and you just wanted to tease.

Billiee00: "Don't worry about me running out of money,just let me tip you all I want,my baby " $1500

Billiee00: "my little pornstar,in my shirt"

She began to use the other name again,the one she used when she was possessive. She wanted to make sure you knew exactly who you belonged to and no one could do anything about it.

"Really showing off today aren't you,Billie?"

Billiee00: "Of course I am,baby."

"Making me wear your shirt and taking all my attention" you smirked.

Billiee00: "Do you like wearing my shirt,baby?"

"Maybe,your perfume is nice" you took a whiff from her shirt. "Which perfume is that?" You asked her.

Billiee00: "I can send you a bottle if you'd like"

"Jumping at the chance to spoil me,huh?"

Billiee00: "I love to spoil you,that's what I do best." Spoiling you is her favorite thing to do,and she's not shy to spend any amount of money on you.

Billiee00: "I'll send you a whole bottle of the perfume I wear,baby. So you can always smell like me." Her next comments were all attached to tips.

Billiee00: $600 "I want you so badly,baby"

Billiee00: $300 "I can't keep my eyes off of you"

Billiee00: $500 "You look so perfect, my show girl"

Billiee00: $250 "I love seeing you in my shirt,baby"

Billiee00: $300 "My favorite little show girl"

"Hold on,Billie. Let me plug my toy and connect it to your tips" Despite your telling her to slow down and wait she didn't stop.

Billiee00: $900 "You're so addictive, my show girl"

Billiee00: $700 "I can't stop tipping, baby"

Billiee00: $400 "God you look so amazing in that shirt"

Billiee00: $300 "You know exactly what you're doing to me,my baby" You set up your toy and connected it to her tips.

"It's set up for you,it'll vibrate when you send me tips," You arched your back,softly moaning as she continued not holding back at all. Your moans turned louder. She kept tipping, sending the toy into another fit of fast and strong buzzing. "Yes,yes Billie" you moaned out,knowing it could drive her crazy.

Billiee00: "Baby say my name, say my name, say it. Only my name,not anyone else,just my name" You repeated her name over and over until you reached your peak. She hasn't slowed down.

Billiee00: "Keep saying my name,I want more."

She had lost count of how much she had tipped, but it didn't matter to her. She was completely entranced.

She didn't slow down when you finally reached your peak,she was in control and wanted to keep the vibrations going as much as possible,hearing how you reacted and moaned her name. You were quickly becoming overstimulated,you couldn't take more.

"Please slow down,Billie. Please" you begged her.

Billiee00: "I'll slow down,baby. I don't want to overwhelm you" She sent a few more tips, but slowed down quite drastically now.

"That was incredible" You were out of breath.

Billiee00: "It really was. I just couldn't help myself,baby,you know how much I love tipping your streams." After the stream you sent her a video of you touching yourself in her shirt as you loudly moaned her name. You had sent the video like a letter signing it with. -from your favorite pornstar She watched it over and over,saving it immediately and listening to you moan her name, over and over again. She knew the video was just for her, no one else was meant to see you like that,it was just for her. It was like a personal little gift,something just for her. She even thought about working it into one of her songs. She hid the moans within the melody,making it blend seamlessly but if you listen closely you'd hear the moans. And one word made it through a bit muffled but it was you moaning her name. She loved the idea,and even more she loved that no one but her would know what that sound was. No one else would be able to guess what that sound really was,but she knew,and she was the only one who would know. The song immediately became a massive hit,like every song she made. She hadn't stopped messaging you or attending your streams. No one could deny that the song was a hit,it had everyone talking and speculating about the odd noise in the melody. But no one had any real clue what they actually were,and no one knew the answer but her. One thing that people caught in the song was some girl moaning Billie's name. Immediately speculating who the woman was. Everyone was speculating who the moan belonged to,and all the comments were about trying to figure out who it was. She watched as people tried to put a name to the voice,and each guess was farther off than the last. None of them knew,and it satisfied her to see them so clueless. But most people were convinced that it must've been Billie's new girlfriend.

You were busy and finally had gotten a house,letting you move out of your tiny studio apartment. You made some posts,thanking your subscribers for supporting you. As usual Bille was first.

Billiee00: "Congrats,baby!" She had sent a tip along with her comment. Many of your subscribers replied to your announcement,they were all congratulating you and expressing their gratitude for you. Comments like.

"You're so amazing,congratulations!"

"Can't wait to see you in your new house!" filled the comments. Later that day you had posted your wishlist and almost immediately it was bought out by one person,and you knew exactly who it was. You sent her a message.

"Couldn't have left something for someone else,huh?" You joked.

Billiee00: "Of course not,you’re my girl” She didn't even consider anyone else,no one could get the chance to spoil you like she did. You got a notification,stuff that wasn't part of your wishlist were included. She had bought your entire wishlist and added more gifts to it.

"You got my full attention,and a few private videos once I set up my studio"

Billiee00: "Mmm,I love getting your attention,baby. I can't wait for those private videos, you're so perfect." You sent her a few photos of you,they weren't too raunchy, just casual.

Billiee00: "You're so beautiful,baby! You look amazing in those pictures" One thing she saw in the background was a poster of her album cover.

Billiee00: "What's that in the background, baby? I can't quite make it out"

"Oh,the poster for the Billie eilish album? I've always wanted to go but her tickets sell out so fast"

Billiee00: "Yeah,the tickets do sell out fast. But you know, I can always get you some if you want to go. I could get backstage passes too." She sent a tip along with her comment.

"Really? You could?"

Billiee00: "Of course, baby. I can get you tickets, backstage passes, anything you want. Just say the word"

"You'd do that for me?"

Billiee00: "Oh, absolutely. I'll do anything for you, and that means getting you front row tickets, backstage passes, you name it." she replied,adding another tip.

"I would love to see her,I've been wanting that for years. She should have a performance coming up in LA in three months."

Billiee00: "Oh she's definitely got a show coming up in LA, and guess what, I can get you those tickets. Front row, backstage passes." She said, with total confidence.

"But how,that show has been sold out for months?"

Billiee00: "I've got my ways, baby. I have connections, and I can make things happen. Don't worry about how I'll do it, I'll just get it done. You'll be seeing her live, front and center, with backstage passes and everything."

About an hour later she had sent you the tickets.

Billiee00: “All set, baby. You’ve got your tickets, front row, and backstage passes. I told you I’d get it done.”

"How did you even do that,so quickly too"

Billiee00: "Oh, baby, I have my ways. Like I said, I have connections. I told you I could get you those tickets, and I never disappoint. I'll always come through for you, no matter what."

"You really are incredible"

Billiee00: "I wanna make you happy, and I'm willing to do anything to do that. So enjoy those tickets, and get ready to have the time of your life at the concert."

One week later you were at the concert,the music started and there she was. You could hardly contain your excitement as the concert started. You had dreamed of this moment,and now it was finally here. Then, there she was. She walked out on stage, looking stunning and radiating confidence. Her presence alone was enough to captivate you as she started to sing, her voice filling the entire arena. But throughout the show you felt her staring at you,not your section but you directly like she knew who you were. Her eyes fixed on you in the crowd. Even though she was performing in front of thousands of people, it was as if you were the only one she was focusing on. The song ended,giving her a few seconds to speak before the music would start again.

"How you guys doing tonight?" she asked, her voice filled with energy and excitement. The crowd roared in response, but her eyes were still fixed on you, completely ignoring everyone else. She then turned to you,before saying the next song was dedicated to someone. Then she said something,a nickname,a nickname she wasn't supposed to know. A nickname only one person would call you. She then locked eyes with you once again. "This one's for you, pornstar." She said, her voice soft but loud enough for you to hear over the music. You felt a jolt of surprise as she turned to you and dedicated the next song to you. But it was the nickname she used that really caught your attention. "Pornstar" was a nickname she wasn’t supposed to know, how did Billie Eilish know that? You were left confused and stunned as the music started up again. How could she have possibly known that,unless it was her this whole time. That would've explained it,the money,the tickets all explained. It was her all along.

#billie eilish x reader #billie x reader #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish imagine #billie imagine #billie fanfiction #billie x fem reader #billie eilish x female reader #billie smut #billie eilish smut

247 notes · View notes

yeyinde · 7 months ago

Text

the therapist x Price ask has me thinking terrible things. but what if instead of helping him with anger management, you're his marriage counsellor.

With your colleague's early retirement on the horizon, you take over several of his files, and among them is Mr and Mrs Price. A marriage on the brink of collapse, he writes, but both are willing to work things out.

As if.

You're not one to pick sides—it's morally, professionally, and ethically wrong—but you really wish Mrs Price had better friends. Or someone in her life to pull her aside and tell her to run because as much as she seems to want to work at these issues that plague her marriage, it takes you only a handful of sessions to realise this is impossible.

And the reason is just—

John Price.

Unprofessional? Yes. Wrong? No.

Your colleague's notes about Mr Price being the driving force behind keeping the marriage intact seem almost farcical looking back because that seems to be the very last thing on his mind.

He goes into each session with the single-minded goal to tear through any progress made—and that's only when he shows up. And in this particular profession, you're used to combativeness. The guarded nature of people is a hurdle you can often overcome with logic and solutions to their problems, but Mr Price's walls have walls. His armour is thick, and impenetrable, and he's—at best—unwilling to participate in any meaningful way.

And at worst—he spends most of the session arguing with you. Needling over everything you say. Ignoring any attempts to steer the conversation back to the idea of salvaging his marriage in favour of riling you up. Disrupting the natural order of accountability and progress just to see you flustered. Asking personal questions. Coming in earlier just to nitpick your talking points. Letting his wife leave before he does, and using the time to go over his startling accolades like the thought of chasing her, taking her to dinner, didn't even cross his mind. A man with one foot out the door, and almost no interest in turning around.

He's bullish. Compromising. Stubborn—

"—and a pigheaded oaf of a man!" You seethe, ethics fleeing from the room as you dig yourself a spot on your boss's couch, and take hearty gulps of the Chardonnay he offered with a grim twist to his lips. "Every time we get close to the truth, to a breakthrough, he jumps ship! Pulls away! But then has the audacity to question me because his wife isn't changing her mind on the divorce? In what goddamn universe is this my fault?"

He clears his throat, looking more than a little bemused. "Uhh. Have you tried—"

"Talking to him one-on-one in a confrontation-free way to try and get him to open up? Yes! And he spent the whole session avoiding the issue and making redundant comments about me, my life! What do my future plans have to do with his marriage? My relationship status! If I want kids! It's absurd!"

"Interesting. And have you considered—"

"All of it! There's no getting through to him. I don't even think he really wants this marriage to work out which is so different from what the counsellor they had before told me. He was trying back then. Said he'd let her divorce him over his dead body, and now? Two decades down the drain. I just don't get it."

"Well." His brow lifts, and he seems almost worried for a second before he scoffs. Shakes his head. "I think I do. Good luck, hon. He seems like the sort of man who knows exactly what he wants."

It takes all of your willpower not to reach out and grab the whole bottle from the table. Professional, you think. And that's what John called you, isn't it? Well—

Smart little girl, aren't you? Is what he growled out, arms folded over his chest as you—indiscreetly—ushered him towards the door. "But you don't know what you're doing, love. Gonna get yourself in over your head—"

The little girl prickles over your nerves. There's something about him that makes you want to lash out.

"I can handle myself, John."

He leaned down, shoulders tense. Eyes blazing. This man, you realise, is all fire. All heat. You fight back a shiver, meeting his stare head-on.

"Oh, I hope you can."

A challenge, right? Maybe he's another misogynist in a choking, crowded sea too blinded by his own ego to admit that maybe you could help him if he let you. Pretentious, self-righteous prick—

It really doesn't surprise you when the dissolution of his marriage happens a week later. Irreconcilable differences. Go figure. But what does surprise you is finding John Price standing outside your office only several days after the contractual obligations you had with them end.

The sight of him, stripped of any professional distance, makes you tense. "If you're here to complain, you'll need to file a—"

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. The signs were there from the onset. Mrs Price's frigid anger at the end, and John's interest in you beyond the therapist. But when he pushes you against the door of your office, pulling you into a searing, demanding kiss that siphons the air from your lungs, all you can think is huh? and when did this—?

He doesn't really give you much of a chance to say any of that, though. Just devours you whole like he's been waiting his entire life for this moment, hands biting into your flesh, gripping tight. Refusing to let go even for a second. Even to let you breathe. Just grunts into the lax seam of your mouth about how much a goddamn little tease you are, tempting him like that when he was still a married man.

"But you can handle me, can't you, sweetheart?" He rumbles, fingers rasping over the skin of your nape. "Said so yourself, didn't you? Actin' all naughty even when you were pantin' at me like a bitch in heat. But don't worry, I'll make an honest woman outta you yet."

"Um—"

(maybe you were, in fact, a little over your head with John Price.)

#captain john price x reader #this got longer than it was supposed to but ughhhhh #john price is genetically predisposed to ruining strong competent independent woman and locking them up in cages #john price x reader #john through this whole thing was just “flirting with me?? in front of my WIFE???”#pricedrabbles

941 notes · View notes

erenstitanweave · 1 month ago

Text

PROM NIGHT!!

synopsis: being the student council president of visions academy was a grueling job in itself, but planning prom for a bunch of teenagers with no ideas is harder. luckily for you, the boy who was seemingly always in the shadows caught you brainstorming and wants to help.

rating: sfw (obviously), eventual friends to eventual lovers, reader is overworked and underpaid, miles is a bit of a troublemaker at school (just one incident chat come on), made miles and reader juniors in high-school because it fit the plot better, miles silently pining, etc.

author's note: hey chat!! sorry for the sporadic uploads, exams have been all on my schedule for the past two weeks and i don't really have time for writing. exams are almost done so hopefully i'll have some more out. feel free to request some works you all want to see! reblogs and comments are appreciated, i hope you enjoy!

The sound of a basketball bouncing off of the concrete filled your ears, the sound somewhat calming along with everything else you heard. Faint noises of children playing in the playground a bit away, sounds of a small group of girls gossiping under a tree, and in particular, three very familiar boys playing basketball. You were also under a tree, your eyes looked ahead at the boys playing basketball, then back at the laptop in your lap. To anyone else, you’d look like a person studying or someone just doing some type of work outside. While both of those weren't exactly wrong assumptions, you were really here to just take a breath of fresh air. Life as a highschool student was suffocating, especially considering the position you had gotten yourself in two years prior. In your freshman year, due to your excellent academic performance during the duration of the entire school year, you were offered the position of student council president.

Being the student council president at Visions Academy of all places was a huge deal, considering they would pass on a full scholarship to the president at the end of their highschool years to the school of their choice. It would be that boost you needed to assure yourself that you would be able to go to the college of your dreams, not worrying about the burden of student loans was just an added bonus. However, this position came with a lot to do. Instead of leaving at the dismissal time for the students, due to your intense workload as council president and a student, you’d often leave when the teachers did, which was later in the evening if not later than them. This pretty much eliminated any sense of social life you had with anyone, the most you’d get was interacting with members of the student council or slightly scolding students when you had to. You were lonely, sometimes it hurt you a lot to know this, but you just kept telling yourself that you didn't need to have people around you.

That was, until you met him for the first time. You had known of him prior to actually meeting him, whispers in the halls and even some mentions from the principal only aided your curiosity, but that's all you were convinced it was, curiosity. Miles was an..interesting person. You’d hadn't met him prior to his father's passing like everyone else, so you couldn't attest to how he was before, but he was clearly different according to others. He was quiet, reserved, never disrespectful to anyone..not entirely at least. He had earned himself two visits to the principal’s office for fighting, and from what you heard while being in there for one of those visits, it was bad. Apparently, one of the more..non-disciplined boys had made a disrespectful comment about Miles and his father, one that you couldn't even repeat with how gross it was. Someone had told someone else, then that person told another person, until it got back to Miles via his best friend. You weren't present for the fight, but from seeing the boy in public the day after, you knew it was bad. Miles had been told that disciplinary action would be taken to more extreme measures if this happened again, meaning expulsion from the school.

He spent detention with you that day along with a few other people. His eyes kept gravitating towards you the whole time, he didn't know what it was about you, it was just..different. Detention was over before both of you knew it, then you never crossed paths again..except for right now. You saw him approaching the boys, greeting them and starting to play a game with them. You weren’t far away from them, but you honestly didn't know when you started just staring at them all play, or maybe it was just Miles you were staring at. Naturally, he'd noticed you staring at him long before you realized you were staring, but the longer he looked at you, the more familiar you seemed. Funnily enough, the way he realized it was you was because of your laptop, considering he couldn't see your face very well. Suddenly, he tossed the basketball to one of the other boys and walked out the court, approaching you quietly. His sneakers barely made any noise on the concrete, only making a hint of noise on the grass once he started walking on it.

You hadn't even noticed him, snapping out of your zoned out state once you noticed that Miles wasn't on the court anymore. Had he already left? Were you actually staring for that long? Miles circled around the tree you were sitting in front of, leaning next to the tree and silently watching as you looked around confused. He peered his eyes down at your laptop, slightly squinting his eyes and reading the text on your laptop. Before he really read anything though, a very familiar logo in the top right caught his attention almost immediately. Visions Academy. His eyes immediately went around the screen, looking for anything else that would make sense of who you were, then it clicked. Your laptop looked extremely familiar, you went to Visions, then right on the upper right corner of the screen read three words that made his eyes widen. Student Body President. He stared down at you, only to see you looking back at him.

He chuckled under his breath for a second, his eyes glazing over your face for a moment. “Didn't think you existed outside of school, you look good when you're not telling people to stop skipping class.” He spoke, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. You rolled your eyes in response, attempting to ignore the second part of his sentence. “Didn't think you were taught to just sneak up on people, color us both surprised.” You bit back, forcing the smile that threatened to creep on your face back when he just laughed in return. He sat down next to you, eyeing your laptop screen before looking back at the basketball court. “So, do you actually do anything but work?” He asked lightly, his eyes gravitated towards yours as he spoke.

You sighed and shamefully shook your head no, keeping your eyes on your laptop screen. “Nope, no social life, hardly any friends, just..work.” You answered, turning your gaze back to the boy next to you. It took a while for you to register it, but he smelled really good. How had you never noticed it before? It was a woody scent of some kind, sort of like the rare cases of wood that smells good as it burns. “I’m trying to figure out the theme for prom this year, but themes can only be so original and I have until mid-April to make a decision.” You muttered, letting out another sigh as you leaned back, letting your head tilt until it hit the tree with an audible thump. Miles watched your movements for a moment, slightly wincing to himself as he watched your head hit the tree.

“Well, I hate to potentially sound like a broken record, but why don't you ask around? You probably would have gotten an answer months ago had you asked the juniors and seniors.” He asked, reaching his hand over and clicking a few things on your laptop. You just moved your hands off the laptop, covering your face and letting out a clearly annoyed groan into your hands. “People don't exactly like me, you know. Besides, the last thing I need right now is someone trying the little bit of patience I have and-” You covered your mouth in an instant, your eyes moving to look at him. Miles just sat before you with an concerned yet amused look on his face, he hadn't ever seen you lose even a hint of your composure before. The sight made him wonder how you really acted when you weren't in council president mode. “You heard nothing.” You spurted out, your words slightly muffled by your hands. Miles just chuckled and pulled the laptop over his thighs, leaning back against the tree with a smirk. “Heard what?” He asked, his heart beating a bit faster once he watched you pull your hands off your face, a small smile taking over your previous expression.

You rested your hands on your lap, mindlessly brushing the material of your clothes back in place. “Well, before we plan on asking anyone else, any ideas from your end?” You asked, peeking over at the laptop screen. Miles shrugged and shifted the laptop towards you, tilting the screen to make it easier for you to see. “Not really a party person, but, the only ones I really hear talking about themes are the girls.” Miles paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something. “They mostly said they didn't want it to be a color, don't ask me what the hell that means.” He said, watching as you laughed in response. “Well, that makes sense. Most of the girls already have their dresses or what they want in mind, so choosing a color for the theme kinda defeats the purpose, no?” He nodded, turning back to look at the laptop.

“Nah, I get it. Colors being a theme sounds weird as hell anyway.” Miles stopped talking for a moment, looking back at you in his peripheral vision until a thought came into mind. “How ‘bout..I’ll ask around for you, since you're convinced no one likes you in exchange for something.” He said with a small smirk, catching your attention almost immediately. “You’ll ask around for me?” You asked, turning to look at him. You thought about it, it could be a big help, having to ask people about it with your schedule would be relatively impossible. “Fine, but what can I give you in return?” You asked with a confused expression, watching as he sat the laptop next to you on the grass and stood up, dusting himself off. He turned back to look at you, his two braids swaying with his movements. “Check your laptop. I’ll catch you later, President.” He said with a shrug, walking off before you could say another word.

You grabbed your laptop, a lot quicker than you’d like to admit, something typed in the search bar of an empty tab catching your eye.

i think asking around for you in exchange for being your prom date sounds like a fair deal, don't you, President?

#ali's writings ✮#atsv #atsv x reader #miles 42 #earth42miles #earth42miles x reader #astv miles #miles morales #miles morales x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

192 notes · View notes

seonghrtz · 9 months ago

Text

𝑣ideo 𝑔ames. 𐙚 両面宿儺 ( streamer!au ) fluff 508 words + warnings. ooc sukuna | sukuna reacts to ship videos.

Sukuna never imagined he would become a famous streamer.

It all started when he started playing games to relieve stress ⸻ something that didn't work out very well ⸻ and the idea of streaming came from his younger brother, who had commented on it as a joke, but as Sukuna had nothing to lose, he started streaming his online matches. But apparently people liked Sukuna's explosive personality. So he kept doing it.

Popularity came with time and what started out as something simple became one of his jobs. With the help of his best friend Uraume, he organized his schedule between his day job as a tattoo artist and his streams.

His videos were all over the Internet, including his fans, who made compilations of Sukuna's best moments (whether he was winning or cursing all the descendants up to the seventh generation of his opponents). It turned out that anything with his name on it went viral, for better or worse.

And Sukuna got a lot out of the whole situation. He didn't care about the comments about him ⸻ the haters didn't get to him even though they tried very hard. In fact, Sukuna didn't care about anything.

But that started to change when his name started to be associated with the name of another famous streamer.

Sukuna didn't understand all this association. They were two streamers from different niches, with different audiences. While Sukuna played horror games with lots of shooting, the unknown streamer was into games like Hello Kitty and Gris.

They were complete opposites.

So when he opened the livestream to start playing, within seconds the comments section was filled with fans asking him to react to some videos.

"Okay, I'll fucking react to this video." Sukuna rolled his eyes and clicked on one of the links that took him to an edit.

In the edit, there were moments from some of his streams and others from the other streamer, while Video Games by Lana Del Rey played in the background.

"What the fuck?" Sukuna looked at the camera as if it were a person. "Why are you editing this? I don't even know her! We've never even spoken a word!”

Sukuna clicked another link that opened another edit ⸻ but with a different song.

"You make a cute couple..." Sukuna read one of the comments "How much did you smoke to say that?" Sukuna asked as he read the comments saying how good they would look together and how they would love to see them interact for real.

Sukuna had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at every comment he read ⸻ his eyes might have ended up in the back of his head. In the midst of the comments, however, Sukuna noticed one in particular from a well-known user.

@ yn.hrtz i think a collaboration wouldn't be bad :)

The corner of Sukuna's lips threatened to pop up, but he quickly looked away from the comment, hoping no one else would notice, and quickly continued his game, pretending nothing had happened.

742 notes · View notes

whatsverstappeningnow · 4 days ago

Text

it's a pas de deux

carlos sainz x ballerina!reader

★ smau ★ after the drivers attend a ballet performance as part of their Imola GP media duties, Carlos finds himself falling for the star ballerina.

yourusername

liked by user55, rachel.yes and more

stressed about nothing in particular

comments

liv.in.motion pls save the panic spiral for after curtain call, thanks. 😀✌️

-> yourusername if i faint mid-grand jeté just roll me off stage please

-> liv.in.motion i'll just step over you, don't worry!!!

-> yourusername i love having supportive friends!!! (jk, love you)

-> liv.in.motion 💋 (love you too)

balletfantatic everyone watching tomorrow should be honoured to see you move tbh.

user32 jealous of everyone who gets to watch you dance live 😭 THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

rachel.yes who gets stressed when they look this flawless practicing??

-> yourusername you guys are so sweet <3

bestieuser stop acting like u aren't gonna slay tomorrow night pls

-> yourusername LET ME BE STRESSED ABOUT THEM WATCHING

-> bestieuser at least if you wipeout onstage there will be plenty of people who can drive you to the hospital!

-> piston-cup wait... who's 'them'...

->yourusername ...i fear we have already said too much

noa.dances nothing like crippling pre-show dread to say we’re back onstage 😌

f1updates

liked by piston-cup, coolgirlhp and more

Turns out the pre-race chaos won’t be confined to the track 👀 The drivers were spotted arriving at the historic Teatro Comunale di Imola earlier this evening to attend a ballet performance ahead of race weekend. No official reason for the visit has been given, but sources say they were personally invited by members of the company (and yes, they cleaned up very nicely for the occasion).

comments

speedyyeah nah bc i blinked and now they’re doing arts and culture?? is this some Italian FIA outreach program i’m not aware of

-> coolgirlhp HELPPPPP

f1fantatic i wasn't aware they knew what ballet was...

-> user1 someone please check if they clapped at the wrong time. i feel it in my soul.

-> user55 everyone is forgetting they are basically all super rich, this is very on brand i fear

speeddrive i swear my clothes were JUST on !!!

fanpage carlos looking extra fine? oh suddenly i believe in the importance of ballet.

user18 if this was PR it worked. i am fully invested. emotionally compromised. spiritually unwell.

simplylovelyyeah you’re telling me yourusername was stressed because Carlos Sainz was in the audience?? yeah I’d worry about passing out too

-> balletbabes suddenly the pre-show nerves are making a LOT more sense

yourusername has posted a story

replies

besiteuser EXCUSE ME. WHO GOT YOU THOSE. bc those were NOT from management and we both KNOW IT

-> yourusername so funny story !!! a certain guest at last night's show sent them to my dressing room... 😀

-> besiteuser UM. you told me you didn't get to speak to any of the drivers???

-> yourusername i didn't...

-> besiteuser GIRL THEY SAW YOU DANCE ONCE AND SENT YOU ROSES??? WHO TF SENDS ROSES TO PEOPLE THEY'VE NEVER SPOKEN TO????

-> yourusername carlos sainz apparently

-> besiteuser AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-> yourusername i'm glad we are both staying calm about this

yourusername has posted a close friends story

f1updates

liked by user65, booklover2 and more

📸 BREAKING NEWS 📸 Carlos Sainz has been spotted tonight returning to historic Teatro Comunale di Imola. No other drivers were present. Fans at the ballet noted that he was seated in a private box and was carrying a boquet of roses. He was later spotted leaving via the dancers exit hand in hand with the companies lead dancer... has Carlos found love at the ballet?

comments

checkeredheart this is not and drill. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

gridgirlgossip am I delusional or is carlos leaning in for a kiss in the third photo

-> user5 WAIT I SEE IT TOO

user90 carlos sainz watching a 3 hour ballet twice in 48 hours just because the girl he likes is it it... girls if he wanted to HE WOULD

drivefaster omg guys. the flowers yourusername posted the other day must have been from carlos too... ITS ALL COMING TOGETHER

user55 i don't know who i'm more jealous of

rachel.no seeing carlos in a suit twice in one week? oh we are being spoiled

->yourusername you're welcome!

-> rachel.no OMG HI??!?!?!?!?!

goingwild not yourusername basically IMMEDIATELY confirming this is all true 😭 ok we get it girl thats your man now

yourusername has posted a close friends story

carlos.sainz

liked by piston-cup, yourusername and more

dressing (and undressing) for the theatre

comments have been restricted for this post

yourusername photo creds?

-> carlos.sainz photo 3 credits to yourusername

taglist: @verogonewild @piston-cup

credit for the pink bow dividers goes to @cursed-carmine

another short fluffy smau! i hope you enjoyed <3

171 notes · View notes

runnning-outof-time · 9 months ago

Text

The Special Touch | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: A small, small detail brings back memories of a person in Tommy Shelby’s life that was able to do something not many can.

Warnings: language, drinking

Word Count: 3102

A/N: the structure of this one’s a little wonky, but I think it reads cohesively…I hope it comes off that way for you. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: the italicized dialogue in the story is taken directly from season 1 of the show.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

(Y/N)'s food was the only thing Tommy Shelby actually ate.

Sure, he still didn't willingly sit himself at the table when it came time for a meal, but (Y/N)'s cooking coaxed him in more often than it didn't.

What started as a woman trying to impress the family of a man she dearly liked - that form of impressing coming through a lovely, homemade apple pie - quickly blossomed into (Y/N) being the Shelby family cook. Polly was probably the happiest about this - she no longer had to tackle the family meals alone.

Tommy was also happy about this - being that he quickly made sure that she was his - because it meant that he was able to spend much more time with her. Hell, he'd even happily endure the enhanced teasing from his family...Tommy hadn't spent this much time at home since he was a child. But (Y/N), and her cooking, had him coming home more often than anything else.

And he enjoyed it.

On this particular evening, she had decided to make some plum bread to bring to the Shelby family. It was one of her favorite recipes, one that she only brought out every once in a while.

Tonight would be a special night for it, she thought. She and Tommy had been officially together for eight months, but it was on this night one year ago that they shared their feelings with each other and decided that they’d commit themselves to one another.

She worked all day to make the bread not only for this occasion, but also because she wanted to see if his family liked it as much as hers did.

It was late afternoon when she made her way over to the house on Watery Lane. She hoped that everyone was home because with each step her eagerness was building - she wanted as many people as possible to try the bread she’d baked.

She could hear the inhabitants of the house before she saw them as she entered through the front door.

She heard Tommy speak in a low voice, “you’re alright,” as the sound of pain-filled hisses filled the room.

Then came a statement that made (Y/N) stop: “he said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said…something about a robbery.” It was Arthur who was speaking. “He said he wants us to help him.”

“We don’t help coppers,” she heard John chime in.

“He knew all about our war records,” Arthur continued, “he said we’re patriots…like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said—” another pain-filled hiss left the eldest siblings lips, and it was followed by a soft ‘shh’. He continued once the pain had been assuaged, “I said we’d have a family meeting and take a vote,” he finished his statement.

A pause filled the room. (Y/N), who’d been standing still and listening in since she entered the dwelling, couldn’t stand in the same position any longer. Despite her efforts not to, her weight shifted, making the floorboard creak underneath her foot.

Tommy looked up from the ground upon hearing the sound, and his intense gaze connected with her worried one instantly. “We’ll discuss this later,” he then addressed his family in a low tone.

“What the fuck is wrong with him lately?” Arthur asked, annoyance laced into his tone.

“If I knew, I’d buy the cure from Compton’s chemists,” Polly chimed in, her tone matching Arthur’s.

Tommy’s eyes were still locked on (Y/N), who now felt like she had to make her presence known. She took a few steps forward into the room before speaking, “I’m sorry I…I didn’t know what I was arriving to,” she hesitantly said, feeling several pairs of eyes now locked onto her. She tried to withhold her expression, but surely there was a look of pain present on her face as she took in Arthur’s bloodied one. “Goodness,” she gasped, the tension quickly becoming too much for her to bear, “I…I wanted to bring something over for the evening. I baked plum bread from scratch,” she said, holding the enclosed tray out in front of her.

“Well isn’t that just bloody perfect,” Arthur muttered under his breath.

Silence hung in the room and (Y/N) wasn’t quite sure what to do. It seemed like every person in the family was glaring daggers at Tommy, and Tommy was just standing, brooding in front of the free-standing stove.

“I can just…I can leave and come back at a better…”

“No!” John interrupted her, pushing himself off of the wall he’d been leaning against, “you’re here now, so let’s try some of this bread.”

“Ok,” there was still a great deal of hesitance present in (Y/N)’s voice, but she still allowed John to take the tray from her hands when he motioned for it. She then glanced in Tommy’s direction, seeing that he was still glaring at the floor. Above everything else, she really wanted to speak to him. The conversation she walked in on was still in the forefront of her mind. She wasn’t sure how to make the first move though.

“Oh, (Y/N), this is grand!” John’s review of the bread cut through her thoughts, making her focus on the small group that was now trying it. Ada nodded her head in agreement with her brother as Polly quietly ate her piece. She didn’t look displeased with it though. Arthur was still staring at the piece that had been placed in front of him. (Y/N) figured he wouldn’t eat it that moment though, given the state he was currently in. A small smile creeped onto her face as she watched them enjoy the thing she’d spent so long baking.

“Tommy you’ve got to try it! It’s absolutely amazing, as always,” Ada said to her older brother, hoping that her shining review would coax him into having a bite.

“I’ll have some later,” he brushed her statement off, his eyes finding (Y/N) again. “(Y/N), can I talk to you?” he asked her then, his brows raising slightly.

“Yes,” she answered softly, knowing there really wasn’t any other response she could give.

He nodded before tipping his head in the direction of the betting shop doors. She nodded in agreement, wordlessly following behind him as they went into that section of the building.

The walk felt so long, even though they were really only moving to the next room over. (Y/N) bit on her cheek as she tried to think of what to say. She knew she wanted to be the first to speak. “What did I walk in on back there?” was what she settled on asking as they both came to a stop.

“It was nothing,” Tommy brushed the question off.

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” she doubled down, not buying his diversion. “Who has Mr. Churchill sent?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he tried another escape route.

“You’re helping the cops now?” she asked another question.

“(Y/N)…” his tone held a warning.

“Why does Arthur look like that?” her exasperation finally shined through this question as she motioned to the room they’d just left.

Tommy exhaled a sigh as he looked away from his partner. It was already enough that his entire family was coming down on him…he didn’t need it from her as well. “This isn’t something you need to worry about, (Y/N),” he told her once he composed himself.

“You said you wouldn’t hold anything from me, Tommy,” she reminded him of a promise that he made to her in their early months. A promise that came as a result of him showing up to her family’s house broken and bloodied…over something he couldn’t share.

Her parents hated him from that day forward, but she found a way to continue to see him. He assured her that would be the last time nothing was withheld…until now it seems.

“This is different,” he shook his head.

“Different how?” she asked for him to elaborate.

“Different in the sense that if it all goes according to plan, we move up in the world,” his elaboration was still vague.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well it’s all I can share,” his tone was now dismissive as he lifted his hand, his palm to the ceiling.

(Y/N) stared at him for a few moments, silently hoping that he’d take that statement back and clue her in to what was going on. She had to bite on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering after those moments had passed and nothing more was said.

“Well I think I need to leave then,” she finally said, her voice just above a whisper.

Tommy’s brows furrowed at her statement, “what?”

“You promised that you wouldn’t keep anything from me, that there’d be no secrets in regards to what sort of business you’re doing,” she reminded him, “we agreed that that would be the only way we could work.”

“I said that this was different, (Y/N),” he argued his cause, “there has to be an exception for it.”

“I can’t make an exception, Tommy,” she shook her head, her tone slightly wavering, “because if I make one now, you’ll have me making another down the road.”

“(Y/N), I don’t need this…”

“Do you know what day it is, Tommy?” she cut him off, her eyebrows raised. He said nothing. “Huh?” she asked for a response. Silence was all she got. “You don’t…” she sighed in defeat, shaking her head as she looked to the floor. “It’s been a year…one whole year since we shared our feelings for each other. One whole year since I thought I found the person who I was going to be with for the rest of my life. But now I don’t know anymore…”

“(Y/N)…” he tried to get out but she wasn’t hearing it.

“This is your last chance,” she gave him the ultimatum, “tell me or I leave.”

The tension between the two was practically palpable. (Y/N) waited on bated breath for him to share what he’d been hiding from her. Tommy weighed his options in his mind - no one knew that he still had the guns in his possession. He was hoping that the last person who knew was (Y/N). But now since she stumbled in on that conversation, she wanted to know more. He’d remembered the promise he made those several months ago. And while the last thing he wanted to do was break it, he just couldn’t bring himself to reveal the secret he was withholding from the entire family. If she knew, everyone would know, was his thinking.

“I’m leaving,” she made her decision, cutting into his thoughts and making him realize that he hadn’t said anything.

She took one last look at him, honestly still hoping that he’d make some grand gesture and save everything, but he just stood there, a look of disbelief clear across his face. She had to follow through with her decision. With a deep breath, she walked past him and exited the building through the betting shop door. Turning and walking back past the family would have been too much for her. She needed to get away with the least amount of Shelbys seeing her.

Tommy blinked a few times after the door to the shop closed. He was frozen in disbelief. So much had happened in the span of a short time. And now (Y/N) was gone.

He remembered the bottle of rum that he’d brought for Arthur’s wounds. It wasn’t whiskey, but the last thing he wanted to do was go out now, so the rum would do.

Polly, John and Arthur were still sitting in the kitchen when he re-entered it. He didn’t make eye contact with any of them, instead making a b-line for the bottle of alcohol and bringing it to his lips the second he had it in his hands.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Arthur questioned, looking less bloody now than he had before.

“She left,” Tommy answered before taking another drink from the bottle.

“Shame…this bread’s fucking amazing,” John shared his praises for the woman’s baking skills. “You should try some,” he insisted.

“I don’t want any,” Tommy shook his head.

“Try some!” Arthur shouted, motioning to the small portion of the bread that was left, “before we eat it all on ya.”

“Fine,” Tommy huffed under his breath, moving over to where the baked good was sitting. He took the knife and cut himself the smallest slice, putting it right into his mouth and eating it without giving any clue as to what he thought of it. He then walked out of the room, exiting the home the opposite way (Y/N) had.

The three remaining people in the room all watched him leave, wondering what exactly was making him even more vexed than usual.

“More for us,” John shrugged, his carefree comment clearing the tension as he moved over to cut himself another slice of the bread.

Tommy returned to the house on Watery Lane later that evening and let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for.

There was still a small piece of the plum bread (Y/N) had brought over left of the table. He sighed as he sat down on one of the chairs before reaching out to take the leftover piece.

Another sigh left his lips as he ate the bread. He couldn’t get (Y/N) out of his mind since she left him earlier, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fighting with himself over what he should do now.

As much as he wanted her in his life, he had to honor her wishes. And even if she posed the earlier question to him again, he wasn’t sure if he’d give a different response. What was happening now was different…he had to keep his cards close to his chest. She should have understood that, right?

He couldn’t deny that he missed her though. The fact that he actually came back to have a second piece of the bread she made for them had him realizing that there would be many reasons why he’d be missing her.

“I have something for you,” the barmaid, Grace, announced as she entered the snug, where the three oldest Shelby brothers had been holed up for the majority of the day. She’d been working at the Garrison for several months now, and she’d quickly found her place within the establishment.

“What is it?” Arthur asked as he brought his glass up to his lips, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Plum bread. I made it…figured you’d need something after all of the meetings that have been happening,” she answered, explaining the reason behind the gesture.

John and Arthur exchanged a look upon hearing what she’d brought. They hadn’t had plum bread since (Y/N) left it for them. Hesitantly, they looked over at Tommy. His expression wasn’t readable.

“Leave it on the table and then you’re good to go, Grace,” Tommy spoke up to instruct her. He felt his brothers’ eyes on him, and knew that they’d be watching closely to see what he’d do next.

“Ok,” she nodded, carefully setting the serving dish and accompanying plates on the table before she turned and exited the snug.

The three men looked at the bread for a few moments. John and Arthur both didn’t want to be the first to make a move, and they most certainly knew that Tommy wasn’t going to.

It was kind of Grace to bake for them, and they no doubt took it as one of her attempts to break the ice between her and the Shelby family. She’d been chipping away at it since she arrived months ago.

But the elephant in the room was looming large now, and it had made itself known via the choice of baked good that the aforementioned blonde woman had brought.

“Shall we try it then?” Arthur was the first to finally speak up. He took his eyes off the dish for a moment to look at his brothers.

“Might as well,” John shrugged as he replied.

Now they both were looking at Tommy. It became apparent that they weren’t going to make a move until he signed off on it. “Go on,” he finally instructed them, motioning to the bread with his chin.

That was all the two men needed. Arthur took on the job of cutting the bread while John divvied out the plates. They even cut a piece for Tommy, who didn’t seem like he was too keen on eating it.

What they did not need was an invitation to eat the bread. More silence filled the room as they did so. It took a few bites from both of them before they were sharing a look with each other. Something had been silently agreed upon between them, and now they were deciding whether they should share their thoughts with Tommy.

“How is it?” Tommy broke into their nonverbal conversation, knowing the looks they were sharing all too well.

“It’s…” Arthur started, finishing his statement off with a breath instead of continuing before he looked to John for assistance. Between the two of them, he knew the latter was a more colorful commentator.

“It’s not like hers,” John filled in the blank, shaking his head slightly as he looked down at the remaining piece of bread on his plate.

The name didn’t even need to be said. Tommy knew who they were taking about. He exhaled a breath before nodding his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the piece sitting in front of him.

“She ain’t got that special touch like (Y/N) did,” Arthur then added his thoughts, addressing the elephant in the room by name.

Tommy’s look was once again unreadable. Glimpses of the woman he’d lost were swirling around his mind, and they wouldn’t leave no matter how hard he tried. Sometimes he wished he would have done things differently. He wished she was still in his life.

What’s done is done was always what came to mind when he got to thinking like that. But even though that phrase came to mind, he still wasn’t going to try the bread, for his remembrance of how she made it was one of the only good things he had left.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @mischievouslittlecreature

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername

@depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium

@brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife

@shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

416 notes · View notes