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#YES THIS IS A MARKETING LESSON TOO
dchan87 · 9 months
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You cannot replicate or recreate Barbenheimer. Barbenheimer was organic, spontaneous because people saw that these two movies--bright, colorful, comedic Barbie and dark, moody Oppenheimer--were being released on the same day and ran with it. Barbenheimer was lightning in a bottle.
Execs will try to replicate it because money. But it won't work. Consumers will see right through the astroturfed marketing, and whatever the execs try will fail. We must let Barbenheimer be a one-and-done for the sake of the movie industry.
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waffled0g · 11 months
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Everyone gets “The 90s” look wrong and I hate it
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Couple years ago I saw these two board games at the store back to back. Well, not saw them per se, but ya know. Spied them out of the corner of my eye. And for a moment without reading the text, I couldn’t tell you which was which decade at first. Funny. Either they were in a rush to get these out the door or they wanted their throwback trivia game boxes to look uniform. I didn’t think too much of it.
Only, from then on I started seeing it MORE. Every time someone markets a 90s or 80s throwback...
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Goddammit they’re identical! What??! How did we let this happen? As a 90s survivor and a designer, this drives me up a wall.
Look, I know I’m late to the party to complain about “the 90s look” when we’re just starting to get sick of the Y2K nostalgia train. But c’mon, the 90s were not The 80s: Part Two™ 
Trust me when I say that we weren’t all wearing neon trapezoids up until the year 2000. The 90s look being peddled is so specific to the tail end of the 80s and an early early part of the 90s - a part of the 90s when it wouldn’t stop being the 80s. This is Memphis design being conflated with the wrong decade.
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Keep reading for a long ass graphic design history lesson and pictures of old soda and fast food.
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Specifically, the look is Memphis Milano, self-named by the Italian design house Memphis Group. Starting in the early to mid 80s, they made all sorts of furniture, fabrics and sculptures that were like a Piet Mondrian grid painting under heavy radiation. Their whole deal was defying the standards of existing industrial design up to that point on purpose. Chairs had weird arches, bookcases would be in strange alien colors, unusual materials like plastic or elastic were used in place of metal or wood, that sorta thing.
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Memphis quickly became the signature look for the decade. You can tell something’s influenced by Memphis design from it’s telltale trademarks:
Clashing, neon colors.
Use of diametric shapes.
Contrasting patterns like zebra print stripes, confetti squiggles and checkerboards.
It wasn’t long before Memphis Milano-inspired design was everywhere in 80s pop culture:
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It was a special time, yes.
I was a kindergartener at the tail end of the 80s, so I knew Memphis mostly through the lens of kids media. Toys, clothes, games, tv shows used it like candy colored catnip. Cable channel Nickelodeon more or less adopted the Memphis aesthetic as their signature in-house style and practically built a monument to it at a Florida theme park:
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I think this is why folks mistake what decade Memphis is representative of - 90s staples like Nick, Saved By The Bell, Fresh Prince - they all stayed around much longer than the design trend’s expiration date. 
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Couple that notion with the fact that companies are slow followers to design trends. Something gets popular and they want to get on the bandwagon? Gotta wait for the ink to dry, gotta wait for the production molds to be made. It would take a few years for them to completely work Memphis outta their system.
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Now, this is not to say Memphis is bad! Personally I’m a fan of the aesthetic, if my neon-drenched artwork wasn’t a tip-off already. But it is a trend, and trends never last forever.
So what took the Memphis Milano look down for good? This part’s up for debate, but I personally think it had something to do with this dude:
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It’s that grunge music from Seattle that’s so popular with the kids these days dontchaknow.
Once Smells Like Teen Spirit hit in 1991, the Nirvana tone drove the rest of the decade. Clean geometry became weathered, grainy and organic. Bright neon pastels became more bold. Bubblegum pop music sounded fake and manufactured. Attitude and apathy was authentic. Whatever.
Things got grungy. Things got grimy. Olestra was invented.
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I think the best way to visualize this transition is how Cherry Coke entered the decade and how it left it:
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1992 Memphis on the left, 1998 grunge junkie on the right. Fitting that the 90s would end with a design that looked like Darth Maul’s lungs.
Okay, so what should 90s retro design look like?
Continue on to PART TWO! Spoilers: No VHS filters or vaporwave needed, but maybe bring an antacid.
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euphemiaamillais · 4 months
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everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer - coriolanus snow
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in which peacekeeper!coryo teaches you a lesson after he finds you out after curfew.
cw: 18+//gun play//blowjobs//name-calling//misogyny//piv sex//slapping//hair pulling//rough sex
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you feel something cold press against the back of your head, and hear the sound of something click. his finger hovers on the trigger; he’s not afraid to use it to get what he wants. a district girl is beneath him, but the way you’re wearing such a tight little dress has to be on purpose. the way you’re flaunting yourself, and after curfew at that.
he just has to remind you who’s in charge here.
‘you shouldn’t be out at this time,’ his voice is cool, but stern. you feel him grip at your waist; trapping you in his clutch. there’s no way you can hop off now, bunny.
‘i’m sorry,’ you offer, a little disgruntled that he’s got you like this. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s a peacekeeper. after all, you shouldn’t really have taken a walk so close to their barracks.
‘i don’t think you’re very sorry,’ he spins you around, gun now pointing at your pretty little neck.
his eyes are piercing blue; so much so that you are able to make them out in the moonlight. his platinum blonde buzzcut is visible too, as well as a noble, aquiline nose. he’s clearly been shipped in from the capitol. you’ve seen him around before, with that other peacekeeper, the one who hardly looks like he belongs.
‘i am, sir,’ you state firmly, trying to wriggle away from him. you know it’s best to not provoke them, but you really just want to get home. all you’d done was take a walk for some fresh air—it had been a long day at the market.
‘oh, really?’ he cocks a brow, and runs the end of the gun along your jawline, tracing over the smooth skin. your heart leaps in your chest. for some reason, you’re strangely excited by the gun. the fact that at any second, he could shoot you. but you know he wouldn’t. how could he? you’re so pretty, and perhaps he’ll just have to teach you a lesson.
‘yes,’ you’re not offering him more than a one or two word sentence, wanting to be off as quick as possible. you’ve heard stories about what some of the peacekeepers do to girls who don’t obey them…
but deep down, a part of you wants to find out.
‘hm,’ he purses his lips, moving the gun down your neck, tracing over the two collarbones which stand out—a reminder that you’re district, and weren’t raised on the gourmet luxuries of capitol.
‘now, sir, if you’d let me go,’ you begin, but he stills, and wraps his free hand around your wrist, clenching at the delicate bones. if he presses even a little harder, you’re sure you’ll hear a crunch.
‘oh, i don’t think so,’ he grins, moving his grip up your arm, feeling the exposed skin.
you’ve got goosebumps from the cold, and perhaps the way he’s touching you. your thighs burn with heat. some strange part of you wants him—wants to find out just what he’ll do to a girl like you who’s been breaking the rules.
‘i think, somebody needs to be taught a little lesson about disobeying orders,’ he taunts, and slides his gun back into its holster, only so he can have both his hands on you.
‘oh, i’m disobedient now, am i?’ you admit that you’ve given quite a lot of cheek, but you like this peacekeeper. he’s different—he’s playing a game with you, and perhaps you’re just willing enough to walk right into his trap.
‘don’t be smart with me, doll,’ he quips, and you shut your mouth, not particularly wanting to end up roadkill.
he leads you down the path, towards the back gate of the barracks. you follow—well, it’s not like you have a choice, he’s gripping your arm so hard you’d probably have to break it to free yourself. the pebble road crunches under your feet, and you feel a strange excitement creeping up your spine. the cool air kisses your skin, bringing about a pretty flush to your cheeks, and yet you can’t help but wonder if you’re blushing from the way he’s holding you.
it’s silent when he pushes the gate open, taking great care to be quiet. he casts you a knowing look, and you try your best to be absolutely silent. god knows what fifty peacekeepers would do if you were caught sneaking in.
it’s a little filthy, the fact that you’re letting him take you like this. you’re not begging and pleading for him to let you go, like the other girls do when he catches them stumbling home after an encounter with a lover, or perhaps innocently picking flowers along the side of the road. no, you’re different. you want this, he can see it in your eyes, the way they’re blown wide as he drags you through the door of the barracks.
he presses a finger to your lips, and guides you to the last bunk. it’s strangely quiet, you can’t hear any stirring, and realise that you’re completely alone. he must’ve planned it, the fucking bastard—picking a pretty girl from the side of the road while the rest of the peacekeepers are out in town.
‘what are you going to do to me, officer?’ you feign an innocent look, biting your bottom lip.
he shoves you onto your knees, and you stumble a little, given the fact that you’re wearing an uncomfortable pair of shoes—clearly you hadn’t really been taking a late night walk in those heels.
‘oh, don’t pretend you’re so innocent, dressed like that,’ he eyes the way your dress clings to your breasts, barely covering the ample cleavage. obviously you were hoping to catch someone’s attention.
you can’t help but giggle, though you’re soon quietened by the feeling of his gun pressing against your forehead; cocked and ready to fire. his hand isn’t even trembling, and he looks down upon you sternly.
‘it’s not funny,’ he scolds, clicking his tongue in displeasure. ‘you think you can just traipse about at any time of the night without consequences? you’re lucky i’m so nice. any other peacekeeper would’ve shot you on site.’
he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear with the gun, and you tremble, beginning to feel a little afraid. he’s so much larger than you, and now that you’re on your knees, you can see the outline of his cock straining uncomfortably against the trousers of his uniform.
‘i think it would be such a shame though, for a pretty girl like you to have a bullet put through her head,’ he muses, puckering his lips. ‘i just wanted to put my cock in you and show you how little you’re really worth, what being district scum and all. it’s pathetic, thinking that you can just get away with doing whatever you want.’
your knees are aching already, and a little greedily, you reach out your hands and begin to unzip his trousers. you’re met by a slap clean across your cheek, which stings and causes a few tears to prick at the corners of your eyes.
‘don’t fucking touch me unless i tell you!’ he yells, and he doesn’t have to say it again to get it through your head. the red mark forming on your cheek is enough of a reminder.
‘god dammit,’ he spits, readjusting the grip he has on the gun. you look so pathetic, trying not to cry. he can’t believe you tried to tell him what to do—don’t you know that little district whores like you don’t get a say? he’ll be sure to fuck that into you. obedience can always be taught—especially when you’re being pounded like a common whore.
he unzips his trousers himself, tugging them down to his knees, and then removes his white boxers, revealing a large, veiny cock that looks in dire need of relief. your mouth can’t help but to water, and he doesn’t even need to tell you to open your mouth, you’re that desperate to have it inside of you.
he slides the tip of his cock past your plump lips, which are wet with saliva, and you begin to diligently suck. he can’t help but groan, still pressing the gun prettily against your head, liking the surge of power it gives him, holding your life in his hands. one wrong move, one attempt to disobey him, and you could be dead. of course, it would be so fucking messy to clean you up. a sticky pool of blood and brains. even that was too much for him.
‘god, you fucking whore,’ he groans as you move your tongue deftly up and down his shaft, taking care to pay special attention to the rigid veins. you’ve done it enough times to know how to really make a man squirm.
the threat of a gun at your head is somehow making your palms burn with want, and heat to pool at your core. you want nothing more than his big cock to stretch you out and fill you with his hot, sticky cum.
‘you like that, don’t you? taking my cock like the little slut you are,’ he bucks his hips a little, forcing his cock further down your throat.
this time you really gag, not like with the other men where you have to stroke their egos. his cock is a choking hazard. you suck in a breath through your nose, and continue to wrap your lips around his shaft, bobbing your head up and down. you gaze up at him with bleary eyes, but he grabs a fistful of your hair and forces your head down further.
real tears spring to your eyes, and begin to trickle down your cheeks as you take all of him in. he doesn’t even give you the opportunity to use your hands, and you can feel his balls slapping against your chin as he fucks your throat.
you’re clutching at his legs, attempting to centre yourself while he’s brutalising your throat. he’s barely letting you put in the work now, his cock pulsing with desire. he’s so close, he can feel it, and he wants to cum right down your pretty throat.
he cries out, thrusts slowing, your throat utterly bruised and battered, and seconds later you feel him spilling his hot load. you swallow it all, showing him just how obedient you are, and he pulls out, watching as spit dribbles down your chin. you look so helpless, a dumbfounded look in your eyes, cum dribbling from your puffy lips.
‘get up!’ he commands, using the gun to gesture to the bottom bunk of one of the beds.
you scramble around for a second, knees aching, and just as you find your balance, he pushes you flat on your stomach against the bed. you feel his hands on your ass now, sliding over the cheap fabric of your dress, tugging it up at the hem to reveal your panties. god, you really are a little whore, wearing black lace panties. you’re just begging to be fucked.
‘i haven’t finished teaching you your lesson yet,’ he remarks, cool fingers tracing over your slick folds. ‘i don’t think you’ve been very obedient.’
you shake your head, trying not to gasp as he slips a finger inside your hole. he can’t believe how tight you are, considering you’ve probably sold yourself to half the men in district 12. he slips another finger in, feeling generous, curling it up in just the right spot.
you mewl, and he slaps your ass, in utter disbelief that you think that you can enjoy what he’s doing. whores don’t get to cum, no, they get to take what they’re given. he’ll make sure of that.
his cock is already hard again at the thought of getting to bury himself in you, and he’s hasty about pulling your panties down. you adjust yourself a little, and he groans at the sight of your wet hole, trickling with slickness. jesus, how fucking desperate were you?
‘so fuckin’ hard,’ he grunts, grabbing his cock with one hand and sliding it into your cunt without any time for adjustment.
you let out a heavy breath, feeling his big cock stretch you out—you’re thankful you’re not a virgin. he begins to slide in and out, building up a solid pace. when he hears you gasping, and sees that you’ve got your fingers at your clit, he reaches forward and pulls you up by your hair, causing you to lose your way with your hands.
‘what did i say, hm? you obey me, and clearly you can’t fuckin’ do that,’ he hisses, tugging your hair so hard that you feel your scalp prickling.
he shoves you back down again, and this time you don’t dare to touch yourself, no matter how much your cunt throbs with want. you accept his punishment, and let him pound into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the barracks.
you’re such a whore, the way you gasp at all the right times as his big cock stretches around your tight walls. he bets you’ve taken cock hundreds of times, but he’s determined to be the best, making sure you know what you’re worth—which is nothing. you’re so beneath him, you’re the fucking dirt on his shoe, and he won’t hesitate to polish you off if you don’t do as he says.
he’s really pounding you now, hands gripping roughly at your hips in an attempt to drive himself further into your cunt, watching as your pussy leaves a milky ring around his base. his dog tags dangle in his face as he bends down to shove himself deeper into you, and the jangling reminds you that he’s the one in charge here. you’re just a poor little girl from the districts, and he’s got the authority. he could do whatever he wanted to you, and he’d get away with that. he won’t let you forget.
‘god, you’re taking me so well,’ he grunts, bucking his hips in pleasure. ‘such a fuckin’ whore though.’
he pulls at your hair again, and you groan, feeling your head snap back a little. he’s fucking you so hard, and while you’re enjoying it, you do have to admit there’ll be bruises on your hips and thighs come tomorrow morning. you’re not mad about it though, liking the thought that you’re all his.
‘have you learned your lesson, hm?’ he asks, snapping his hips against your ass, chasing the peak that is building up as your walls clench around him.
‘yes,’ you mumble, dumbfounded. your brief answer is unsatisfactory, however, and earns you another slap across the ass. this one leaves a pretty red hand print, a memento from him.
‘yes what?’ he eggs, rubbing his hand against the other cheek, ready to strike again if you don’t give him the answer he wants.
‘yes sir,’ you cry out, beads of sweat clinging to your forehead as he slams into you.
‘good girl. that wasn’t so hard now, was it?’ he inquires, and you shake your head lazily.
he’s going so hard now you’re not sure if you can take it, and you clutch desperately at the corner of the bed, whining. though you don’t dare beg him to stop, afraid of what he’ll do. he slams into you one last time, and feels himself come undone. he spills his spend into your wet cunt, hot spurts of cum filling you up. another pathetic district girl taking his load. he smiles to himself.
‘you loved every second of that, didn’t you?’ he pulls out of you, watching you turn around and face him, dress up around your waist, hips speckled with fresh bruises from where he’s gripped you.
‘yes sir,’ you answer back, and he offers a smirk in return, never happier to hear that name on your lips.
now you know just exactly what peacekeepers do to pretty girls that don’t obey them.
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bigfatbimbo · 13 days
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I am haunted by visions of Vox with a capable assistant who doms him after hours. The role reversal of guy thinking he can fuck his secretary but she turns the tables and fucks him has me sweating
I got inspired by a turn of phrase that would might have been popular a little bit before Vox’s time “his girl, Friday”
Basically a “girl Friday” was a term used for a woman in the office who acted as a jack of all trades and was good at doing a bunch of different jobs. This person was usually very capable and the office’s go-to-girl for anything and everything
So I keep imagining Vox with this hyper-competent assistant. He hires her and after becoming familiar with the company, she manages to handle things before he even asks her to do them. He decides to try and rattle her a bit with impossible tasks to knock her down a peg, but she takes that as a challenge and somehow completes them with a smarmy “will that be all,sir”
Game on. He keeps challenging her and asking for crazier shit just to prove that she can be shaken. She doesn’t even flinch, it’s a little intimidating and bruises his ego
Eventually he’s working late (which means she’s working late because somehow their work ethics are equally insane) and he starts being all snide and pissy and she just puts him in his place, insulting his behavior and his temper and physically backs him into his desk before telling him that he needs to be taught proper manners
And from then on, by day she’s Vox’s right hand who never leaves his side. But by night she bends her boss over his desk or presses him into his office chair, making him whimper and moan as she teaches him a lesson and berates him
So yeah, boss tries to dominate assistant but she effortlessly reverses their roles and makes him cry “Yes, ma’am!”
People think he’s tapping his assistant but whenever comments are made they share a look and Vox just thinks “they can’t ever know that I call you Mommy”
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So the other day, I posted about wanting to do a human Vox au but lacking ideas, and one of the comments was involving an assistant x boss type deal. I don’t know if this ask is unrelated or directly caused by that post, but it gives me lots of ideas for a more specific au involving human Vox.
Anyways, since it wasn’t specified, i’ll keep the alive or dead details pretty vague. When I tell you this idea has been rotting in my brain all day, I fucking mean it.
Like this is genuinely about to get me out of writers block oh my fucking god. “His girl, friday” is a term i’ve never heard before but it’s so fitting with this. I love the go-getter incredibly efficient reader so much.
And god, it would bother Vox to an ungodly point. Because being in close quarters a lot, you being his assistant, of course he picks up on your efficiency. It makes him a little insecure because you honestly get things done quicker than he could.
So after throwing everything he can at you to knock you overboard your parade of orderliness, and you doing it all absolutely flawlessly, he can’t help but throw one of his tantrums.
Coming to him at the the end of the day, explaining you did everything he’d asked, and went beyond, closed multiple business deals for him, and got the inside information on upcoming possible marketing events. He should be happy, this objectively helps his business. But instead, he sits at his desk, watching you from across the room, before absolutely exploding.
I mean, you do his jobs better than he does. And he goes on a huge rant about how he doesn’t believe this, and how you must have absolutely no life, and basically degrading and insulting you for doing your job correctly.
And then yes, you yell at him, practically daring him to fire you. He won’t, you’re too much of an asset. You’re basically untouchable. So with that, you yell back, but unlike Vox who erupted with rage, you keep yourself as level headed as possible while talking sternly. Make even talking to him condescending as of talking to a child, explaining how it’s absolutely unbelievable he’s throwing a fit over good work ethic, and how he’d have to be out of his mind to pout about something so beneficial for Voxtech.
Going on and on about how his competitive, aggressive, targeting work behavior is unacceptable and pathetic… and now you have him back up against his desk, his sneer turning into a look of astonishment.
And then his eyes dart down, heat rising to his cheeks, and you notice the bulge in his pants. At first, you go silent, but then tease him with “You want me to take care of that too? Or will you yell at me for being too good at my job.”
Well, then he’s mad again. Probably definitely a struggle for power the first time you fuck. Yes, he tries to dom you, and fails because jesus, he really was pathetic. But you have him lied back in his chair, pinning his wrists down to either side of him, while you ride his dick into overstimulation. But he’s trying to keep quiet so no one else is the office hears his whimpers and whines.
But when he gets too loud, simply remind him that you’ll have to stop and he responds with a watery, whimper of “Y-yes ma’am.”
Now, fridays are dedicated to his girl, friday. Coincidentally, you’re both working late on those days, and even more coincidentally, you have business in his office.
That business being bending Vox over his desk until he has to cover his pathetic sobs with his hand so a janitor doesn’t hear him crying for his mommy.
Anyways, I’m almost done. I think this specifically appeals to me in a human Vox au sense because i’m hell, a work place of hell wouldn’t be particularly normalized, but it’s hell so it’s absolutely not frowned upon. He’d probably get teased about it at best, and literally a high five for tapping that. But in a human au, the stakes are much higher because there’s an actual sense of ethics and morals in business.
Also in the fifties, do you even know how taboo it would be for a boss to not only be sleeping with his assistant, but getting dominated by her every night???? I dunno.
Oh and the toxic masculinity of it all because it’s the 1950s and without being exposed to the normalization of kinks in hell, it would be so hard to break this brat down. Obviously not impossible, it’s Vox. But so much more irritating.
However, i’m hesitant to actually do a human au literally because of the silly picture I always put at the beginning. Because like I have such a specific image of what he looks like in my head (the @//notherpuppet human design) but… I don’t want to have to DM an artist and be like “Hey! love the art, can I use it for my dom reader power dynamic assistant x boss Vox x reader human au fic 😁😁😁🙏🙏” LIKE GANG I CANNOT.
Anyways, this wasn’t proofread, rant over, bimbo out.
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flowersandbigteeth · 6 months
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Meeting your drider general
A/N: It's the middle of October, so I wrote a spider story ^_^
There have been a lot of requests for NSFW drider content. I don't plan on doing any NSFW of my other drider character Vass (he is just too pure 😳), so this is a completely different story in a completely different universe, literally.
General Plot: You've been stolen from your home by a lich, who has declared himself King and assigned a handsome drider general to watch over you, his Queen.
Word Count: 7k
Drider (Ruvain) x fem reader
TW: arachnophobia! THERE ARE SPIDERS! (<- heavy spooky, spider content), a rather graphic death of a minor character, bondage, nsfw drider smut, some graphic violent talk, mention of self harm, yandere behaviors and talk
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“You must do it again,” the lich who called himself King hissed at you. 
You tried not to glare, tried not to imagine his slow, agonizing death. The amulet he’d fuzed with his body prevented you from harming him, though if you had a single second left in your life where that amulet was gone, you would use it to cut off his cock and feed it to him. You’d spend your last moments smiling as he bled out while he choked to death. 
Instead, you lifted the spoon to your lips and tipped the soup into your mouth. It was delicious, as all things were in this castle, but you only tasted ash. 
“Yes, that’s more like a Queen,” he cooed, brushing his hand over your hair. 
His cold fingers drifted further to your cheek, and you forced yourself not to jerk your body away. Since you’d been captured only a few days earlier, you asked yourself if it was worth waiting to seek revenge. You could end yourself and join the family King Camus had slaughtered to obtain you in the afterlife. 
Perhaps you were too much of a coward, but you liked to think that one day you would find a way out of this trap, and then you would take your revenge. 
Camus was the cruel ruler of the country of Ventirest, where you’d been born. 
You would have lived and died in the small town Cerulle, where your family lived as ranchers, if Camus hadn’t come riding through on a countryside tour. He just happened to see you leading a cow through the market and, in his words, “fell in love.” 
That was a lie. Camus didn’t love anything but himself. He wasn’t a popular king, but he had that amulet and an army of monsters to keep the mostly rural country in line. You all toiled to pay his high taxes, though you made very little. He’d sent a page to your father to inform him you’d been chosen as his Queen and that your future was secure. 
Perhaps your family would have thanked him for your good fortune if it were a different King, but your parents were only afraid. How long until he grew bored of you and snuffed you out? They tried to hide you, saying you’d run off, and they couldn’t find you. Camus sent his dogs to sniff you out, and when they found you, your family was punished for protecting you. They were all killed, everyone who carried your family name, and you were thrown in his carriage on your way to the Capital. 
So, for the past two mornings, you’d wondered to yourself if this was all a waste of time. You pretended to be obedient. You did as he said and let him touch you, though you feared the day that his advances would grow more intimate. He’d promised you that you were lucky that he found you so desirable but was willing to give you a few days to “acclimate” before he forced you into his bed. 
You shuddered at the thought of his cold body, which carried the stench of rotting corpses touching your warm skin. 
“Master! Master!” one of Camus’ servants yelled, running in with a pile of maps and books in his arms. 
“What is it?” Camus snapped. “I’m in the middle of an etiquette lesson with my Queen. What can be so important?” 
“Of course, I would only interrupt you if it were dire!” the servant said, throwing himself to his knees in a bow. “And it is dire!” 
Scrolls and books flew everywhere as he prostrated himself. 
“Well, get on with it. What’s the matter?” Camus barked. 
“There’s an uprising, Your Majesty,” he whimpered, afraid he’d be killed as the messenger. “The villages of the west, where you obtained your Queen, have sworn to overthrow you for stealing a child of the land! They mean to take her back to her home.” 
Camus snorted, but your heart skipped in your chest. The people of the land came together for you? To seek revenge on your behalf? Your eyes misted with tears. You knew the people of the land were good and just. Their loyalty to a mere farm girl touched you deeply. Inside, you also wept for them. Camus was an immortal lich. You knew of no way to kill him. Many of the people who rode for you would die. 
“I didn’t steal her! I am the Goddess's chosen ruler of this land! All women are mine,” he snarled. “I could take every farm girl in this country, and I would still not be wrong. Perhaps I will after I’ve rendered their heads from their necks!” 
“Of course, of course,” the servant said. “I am only repeating the reports. I would never-” 
“Ruvain!” Camus shouted to nowhere in particular, and from the vaulted ceiling, cloaked in shadows, a drider appeared, elegantly sliding down a length of silk. Despite and maybe because of his bulbous body and eight brown legs, he was incredibly handsome. His eyes shimmered a rich gold, and his hair matched, laying over his tan shoulder in a thick braid. 
“You called, Your Majesty?” the half man, half spider, asked, his voice smooth as the silk he’d arrived on. 
“I need to convene with my generals. Guard the Queen!” Camus snapped. 
The drider looked a little offended. 
“Am I not a general, Your Radiance? Have I been demoted?” he asked. 
Camus let out a wet laugh. 
“No, but you’re the ugliest of the bunch,” he chortled. “I can’t leave my new Queen with someone too pretty, lest she get the wrong idea. Your eyes alone would send any woman running.” 
You felt outraged, not only that he questioned your character, but that he’d called this beautiful creature ugly. 
The drider’s eight eyes met yours for a moment. They shined like gold coins, and you saw they held the same fire and hate. He, too, was putting on an act. 
He gave Camus a deep bow. 
“As you wish, Your Highness,” he said, and Camus ran out of the room, dragging the poor servant behind him. 
When you were alone, you took the measure of the drider. 
“I don’t suppose you’d agree to lose me accidentally, would you?” you asked. “I can just slip out of the window over there. I’ll give you a slap if you want to say I fought you.”  
He let out a chuckle that made your heart flutter. 
“It is wise to let the King have his way,” he said vaguely, though he circled you, looking more closely. 
“I don’t like that he called you ugly,” you said, looking deeper into his eight gold eyes. “The only ugly one here is him. He smells like rot. You can smell that, can’t you? Everyone pretends…Anyway, I think you’re very handsome, actually. I quite like your legs, if I’m to be honest. And your eyes are…arresting…uh, in a…ah good way.”
At that, the drider smiled, revealing large, pointy teeth that sent a quake to your stomach. 
“He bathes in perfume,” he commented evasively, rescuing you from your own awkwardness. 
“Well, it’s not working. The perfumer should be shot…or maybe that’s just how bad he smells,” you said. 
The drider looked amused. 
“He hasn’t yet conquered you? Has he?” he asked. 
“If I could stab him in the neck, I would,” you admitted, clutching the silver spoon you held. “Only it wouldn’t work, would it? He’s warded himself cleverly.” 
“You don’t fear retribution? Telling all this to his general?” he asked, touching a lock of your hair and examining it. 
“I don’t believe he’s conquered you, either,” you said. “I’d bet my life on it. You want out of here just as much as I do. What’s keeping you? You’re strong…and very stealthy, I might add. How long were you watching from the ceiling?” 
He tipped his head, interested in you. Everyone around Ruvain whimpered and cowered in front of Camus; you were very different. 
“Where is a monster like me to go?” he asked. “The village from where you came would never accept me. If I didn’t work for Camus, I would have to live in the forest, where some intrepid knight would come for my head on a quest, thinking I had a magic liver or some other such nonsense. I was stolen from a land far from here, and I’m unsure how to return..” 
“So you bide your time serving that asshole?” you asked. 
He looked thoughtful. 
“I thought having access to the royal library would produce some results,” he admitted. “Camus pulled me through a portal. I can’t take a ship back. For all I know, he’s taken me from another universe entirely. In fact, that’s how he obtains all of his ‘monsters.’ To answer your other question, I’ve been watching you since you arrived.”
“And in all this time, you’ve found nothing?” you asked. 
He frowned. 
“Camus has a secret workshop that I think holds the answers I seek,” he said, “but I can’t get access to it. It’s warded, and if I tried, Camus would know and order my death. I have to approach it very carefully.” 
“Slimy bastard,” you grumbled, and Ruvain gave you another of his silky chuckles.  
“It is very frustrating, but I wouldn’t say I’ve found nothing. I’ve certainly found something,” he said, his eyes flashing. 
“Well, is it useful?” you asked. 
His eight eyes blinked in an eerie cascade. 
“Only time will answer that question,” he said. 
“Care to share?” you said, and he gave you a wide smile. 
“We’ve only just met. I can’t reveal all of my secrets,” he said. 
You scrubbed your hair and growled your frustration. 
“Since I’ve come here, it’s been nothing but secrets,” you huffed. “I miss my ranch. I miss my family. He took the only good things in my life, and now…now I’m just a doll for him to dress.” 
“Know this (Y/N): you have my protection,” he said. 
You sighed. 
“You don’t have to make me promises like that, Ruvain,” you said. “I know you’re only looking after me for Camus. I don’t need your lies. I’m all too aware of the truth.” 
He tipped his head and gave you a curious look. 
“You will learn the truth of things soon,” he said ominously. 
You wanted to ask more, but Camus came in like a tornado, his face the picture of rage. 
“How could they?” he snarled. “They are nothing…ants, and they think they can capture me? I’ll destroy them…crush them under my boot.” 
His spooky eyes, milky white, turned in your direction. 
“I’ll have you tonight!” he said, which seemed to cheer him up a bit. 
He crossed the room and cupped your cheeks in his hands, meeting your gaze. 
“You’re thrilled, aren’t you, darling?” he asked. “You’ve been waiting for my body, haven’t you? Saving yourself for me? I won’t make you wait any longer, and I’ll fly your virgin blood as a flag for those vermin to see as they arrive. Before they die, they’ll know I’ve taken you and filled you with my seed.” 
He was too frantic, his eyes filled with madness, to notice your fear. You did not want him to touch you, and you weren’t a virgin. You trembled, wondering what he would do when he discovered that fact. It wouldn’t be your virgin blood on that sheet; it would come straight from your veins. 
He clapped his hands and grinned, his crooked, rotting teeth making bile rise in your throat. 
“I must prepare myself!” he beamed. “Our first night of passion and the counteroffensive must be timed perfectly!” 
His eyes flicked to the drider. 
“Take my Queen into the city, to the fashion district,” he said. “I want her to choose something just for me. A dress, lingerie, oils and perfumes!” 
You were surprised he didn’t want to dress you himself, but it seemed he wanted to feel that you adored him, proving so with whatever you chose. You wanted to be sick. 
“Don’t let me down, (Y/N),” he said, winking at you. 
You gave him a tight bow. 
“It will be as you wish, Your Highness,” you choked out, and he hurried out of the room. 
You gave Ruvain a serious look. 
“End me, Ruvain,” you said. “I’m too much of a coward to put a knife to my own skin. Do me this favor. I won’t let that…monster touch me! He’ll have fuck my cold corpse.” 
Ruvain shook his head. 
“There are so many reasons I won’t grant you your request, but the most important for you to know is that death will not end your misery. If you kill yourself, If I killed you…he would resurrect you…tie you to him for eternity,” he explained. “A far worse fate than a few minutes underneath him.” 
Your heart turned cold as ice, and you gasped. 
“No,” you murmured. “He can’t! I can’t…” 
“He will,” Ruvain insisted, lowering himself so you were eye to eye.”Camus has no real magic but we can get out of artifacts. He experiments with alchemy. Reanimating bodies, fusing what few relics he finds to living hosts…But I told you. I will protect you.” 
“How?” you gasped. “He holds all the cards.” 
“Well, the window wasn’t a good option, but now we have some time to play with,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “First, we need to get a message out to your kin. They will only get themselves murdered coming here when we’ve just escaped.” 
“Escaped?” you asked. “What do you mean? You just said you wouldn’t let me escape.”
He smiled down at you. 
“I told you I would protect you,” he said. “I’ve been working out a plan since I first saw you.” 
You blinked up at him.
“You-you have?” you asked. 
He gave you a grave look. 
“I’m no better than Camus,” he admitted. “I won’t return you to your countrymen, but I will protect you. In my web, you will always be safe. Do you…do you hate me?” 
Your mouth dropped open, and you slowly shook your head. Your cheeks were burning like hot irons. The handsome drider thought he would take you for his own? Fear and uncertainty flickered within you, but Ruvain didn’t smell like death, and making love to him would be no hardship, assuming driders and humans could make love. 
“Um..n-no,” you said. “I don’t hate you…” 
He smiled, showing a white, sharp fang.
“That’s enough for me,” he said. “Now to your message. I have many spies that can reach out to your countrymen, but they won’t believe a warning coming from me. You must record one on a recording crystal. You’ll tell them you’ve escaped and are fleeing, not to come for you.” 
He gave you another sobering glance. 
“Once you record this, however, there is no doubt it will eventually fall into Camus’s hands. I have many spies, but so does he. He will know you ran from him, and he will spare no expense to find and punish you,” he said. 
“Wait, wait!” you said, waving your hands. “What about you? You have a mission here. We can’t run away without whatever he has in his lab!” 
He smiled again. 
“Don’t worry your pretty head over that,” he said. “With a gorgeous companion, my time in this realm will be far more…pleasant. Returning to my homeland can wait.” 
You took a step forward, setting a hand on his fuzzy leg. 
“I don’t want to tear your dreams from you, Ruvain,” you said. “It’s not fair. My family is gone…they’re never coming back, but yours are waiting for you.” 
His face softened into an expression that was hard to imagine a powerful drider would have. 
“You’re still very young,” he assured you. “People assume dreams are static things, that they are losing something if they change. That’s not true at all. Dreams morph and blossom like flowers. You are stealing nothing from me and giving me so much more in return.” 
Again, your cheeks burned from his tenderness. If he had some nefarious plan for you, he was doing a damn good job breaking down your walls. 
He chuckled. 
“Camus is going to be very angry when he realizes you walked right out of the front door to escape him,” he said. “I kind of wish I’d be here to see it.” 
You gave Ruvain a shy nod, and he waved a hand for you to proceed. 
“After you, my Queen,” he said. 
The sun was sinking low in the sky when you climbed into the royal carriage. Ruvain walked alongside as it made its way slowly through the bustling city. The citizens were used to seeing Camus’s monsters running errands, and many of them had even made friends when they went to drink in the bars and visit the brothels. 
They were much more afraid of who might be inside the carriage. No one wanted to be in the King’s eyeline. It would only lead to ruin. Ruvain had given you a recording crystal, and in the privacy of the carriage, you’d made your message and returned it to him. 
You’d told those who would avenge you that you were escaping and going into hiding. You told them not to look for you for their own safety but that you would send a message later to assure them you were okay. 
You could not tell them to drop their uprising. Those who would stand up to their King did so for many more reasons than a single woman; you were only the last straw. A revolt was a long time coming, so you sent them the Goddess’s blessing and only asked them to be smart and safe. Do not fly into battle blinded by rage, you’d warned. The King is wiley and immortal. You must be quiet and clever if you mean to unseat him. 
Your heart pounded as you entered the fashion district. Ruvain insisted you needed to be seen shopping, or the King’s spies would realize you were running immediately. Ruvain worked best in darkness, so you would stay out until sunset. 
You went to shop after shop poking around. Not intending to wear any of it, you purchased the most expensive, obnoxious items you could, happy to be spending the King’s money frivolously. Your heart pounded in your chest as the sun set. It was time to put your plan into action. 
Ruvain took you to a spa to have you bathed, plucked, and oiled up like a dinner chicken. Only you didn’t do any of that. The moment you were checked in, you asked one of the ladies for the bathroom and slipped out of the back door. 
Ruvain was supposed to meet you in the alley on the other side, and the two of you would climb the rooftops out of the city. 
That’s not who greeted you when you opened the door. Yes, Ruvain was there, but he was surrounded by six of Camus’s monsters– three nagas and three minotaurs. Camus stood there, smugly tossing the crystal you’d sent in his hand. 
“Tsk. Tsk.” he said, peering at you in the torchlight. “I offered you everything, and you chose to betray me. You should know this spider is a devil. He would have eaten you once you left the city. However, I am kind, and you are just a naive farmgirl; I’ll give you a chance at redemption. Come to me.” 
He held his hand out to you. You growled at him. Now that your escape plan had been discovered, there was no reason to pretend. 
“I’d rather he eat me one limb at a time than fuck your zombie body!” you snapped, then spat at him. 
Ruvain gave you a glance filled with both worry for your mouthing off and also sudden determination. Camus’s face turned to one of pure rage. 
“You snivelling bitch! You’re nothing! I could have had you and then tossed you in a ditch, but I offered you the world! To be a Queen!” 
“You’re nothing but a filthy murderer who hides behind creatures with nowhere else to go!” you shouted. “Those who have come to challenge you do so with nothing but pitchforks and torches. They have more spine than you’ll ever have!” 
“You won’t speak to me that way!” he snarled, the nagas at his side slithering towards you and one grabbing you by each arm. 
“I’m going to let you watch while my monsters tear this traitor’s legs off one by one!” Camus promised, glaring at Ruvain. 
His face had lost the fear it held and was only a mask of indifference. 
“Perhaps,” he said, eyeing the minotaurs approaching him. “You are not the only one protected by magic. You know so little of the creatures you've detained." 
He murmured some words under his breath, and in the flickering firelight, a wave of darkness roiled around you. It looked like the earth itself was writhing, a shiny black, living oil…only it wasn’t liquid. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly until the wave began climbing one of the naga’s bodies. Then it was all too clear; millions of spiders rolled over him like the tide rising. 
His screams pierced the night air as he frantically tried to brush them off. 
It was no use; the wave kept coming, and more and more spiders filled the alley, climbing the walls and smothering the torches. 
“I’ll give you a choice,” Ruvain told the other monsters. “You can die like your friend is going to die…or you can hand me the girl and join me.” 
“Don’t you dare!” Camus screeched, watching in horror as the naga’s face, covered in spiders, began to bloat, pustules forming and popping from their venomous bites until he all but dissolved in front of you. 
The other monsters looked horrified, and a moment later, you stumbled to the ground as they dropped you. 
“Come here, darling,” Ruvain hissed, waving a hand at you. 
You scrambled across the ground, the sea of spiders parting in your path. 
Ruvain scooped you up and set you on his back. 
“You fool!” Camus snarled, tearing his eyes away from the bloated, deformed body beside him. “You can’t harm me! I’m invincible!” 
Ruvain laughed. 
“I don’t need to harm you. In fact, I need you alive,” he said. He nodded at two of the minotaurs. “Bring him. We’re returning to the castle. I’m sending you all home.” 
Camus screamed and howled, but carrying him against his will was no harm, so his amulet did nothing. His only power was in the monsters he wielded. He carried no other weapons because he was arrogant and smug. His monsters would follow his order to the letter because they had nowhere else to go. 
The minotaurs dragged him behind you through the back alleys. Everyone in the city knew not to meddle in anyone else’s affairs. Camus himself had set such a precedent. So they ignored his cries, as they’d been taught. Shutters closed, and doors were locked as you proceeded to a secret back entrance to the castle. 
As you moved through the castle, the monsters you passed were quite happy to let you through. Ruvain told them simply that he was sending them home, and they fell in line, interested to see how this played out. They all had nothing to lose and everything to gain. 
You stopped in front of a door covered in runes. 
“Open it,” Ruvain barked. 
Camus, still filled with pride, shook his head. 
“Never! I’ll never bow to a bunch of mindless creatures!” he spat. 
Ruvain shrugged. 
“I can’t hurt you; we all know that,” he said. “But spiders crawling in and out of all your orifices for the rest of your miserable eternity causes no direct harm. I can’t imagine it will be pleasant, though.” 
If Camus’s face could blanch, it would have. 
“Let me go; I have to use my hands!” he snapped. 
The minotaurs looked to Ruvain for guidance, and after a thought, he nodded. 
Camus stumbled forward, turning three of the runes so they formed a pattern you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t seen it after it was solved. The heavy stone door slid open to a set of stone stairs leading downward. 
“Let’s go, him first,” Ruvain said, shoving Camus forward. 
The parade of monsters followed Camus into the darkness. You worried he’d tricked you all when you finally reached a basement that smelled of rot. You coughed and covered your mouth. 
“What is that smell?” you asked, but it was soon clear. 
The laboratory, if you could call it that, was filled with dissected bodies. Monsters, people, you couldn’t tell one from the other as they were all flayed like raw fish. The only other notable thing other than sets of alchemy tools, bits of metal, and flesh was a large round mirror on one wall. 
“Hold him,” Ruvain told the minotaurs, “don’t let him touch anything. I know what I’m looking for.” 
Ruvain set you on the ground and started shuffling through papers. He gave a cheerful shout when he found the right scroll and a small book. You peeked over his shoulder, curious. 
“This is the spell to take us home,” he said, then showed you the book. “These are the coordinates of where he pulled us all from.” 
“Now then,” he said. “Since we no longer need him, what shall we do with him?” 
You all looked around the room,y our eyes landing on the torture equipment, disappointed you couldn’t just dissect him like he’d done to the poor souls rotting on the tables. 
One of the nagas had an idea. 
“Let’s lock him away, where no one will find him, and he’ll never escape,” he said, nodding to a small inset in the wall near the back of the room where a candelabra would normally go. It was just the right size for a body.
“I expect your silk is too strong to break with his fingers or teeth," the naga said.
Ruvain's face filled with an evil smile. 
“That it is, friend!” he said, “I can spin a silk so strong even steel swords or fire won’t break it.”  
“No! No! You can’t!” Camus screamed, but it was no use.
Locking him up caused no direct harm, so there was nothing he could do. As a lich, he did not need to eat or breathe, so a comfy coat of spider silk was harmless to his health.
He cried and begged, promising everyone in the room the world, but Ruvain simply took him in his arms, taking his time as he wrapped line after line of silk around him. The monsters listened to each scream and cry with satisfied smiles until Ruvain stuffed his mouth with spider silk and sealed it up. He finished wrapping as Camus whimpered, a mummy of white silk. Then he stuck him in the inset and sealed the whole thing up with a web of more silk. You couldn’t even hear him inside. From the outside, it looked like a nasty spider infestation but nothing more. 
The monsters gave one another high fives as their task was complete. 
“Now to send you all home,” Ruvain said. 
He scurried over to the mirror, twisting and turning various runes until a world appeared in the glass. 
“Home!” the minotaurs gasped, racing forward through it before Ruvain had even waved them on. 
You winced, expecting them to shatter the glass, but instead, they passed right through it. They ran through without a single glance back. One after another, he put in the coordinates of each of the monsters’ homes, and they left, some of them thanking him, others so excited they simply ran before the chance passed them by. When every monster was gone, you gave Ruvain a sad look. 
“It’s time for you,” you said, smiling a little. “You were my savior, and I can never thank you enough for that, but I understand you need to return home.” 
He smirked at you. 
“Now I can go home whenever I like,” he told you. “And perhaps I will someday, but now we have your world to attend to.” 
You looked at him, confused. 
“What do you mean? You’re free? Why aren’t you running like the rest?” you asked. 
“Because my world never needed me and this world needs a Queen,” he said. “And a Queen needs her guardian knight and first general. With the word of their Queen, your world will accept me, not as a monster, but as your companion.” 
He bowed in front of you, taking your hand and kissing it.
“I offer you my life, Your Radience,” he said, then peeked up and winked at you. “But don’t think because you’re my Queen, I’m ever letting you go. You’re mine, and we will rule this land together.” 
He stood and looked around. 
“Now, let’s get out of this filthy place. I’ll have the mirror moved somewhere that doesn’t smell like death and seal this miserable laboratory up forever,” he said. “I’ll  be sure to make it look like every other wall in this castle so no one has the bright idea to go exploring looking for treasure and instead finding an angry lich.” 
He returned you to his back, and the two of you ascended back to the empty castle. Footsteps echoed through the halls, and soon, you were faced with a bunch of farmers carrying torches and pitchforks. 
“Free her from the creature!” someone shouted, but you held up your hands in panic, worried they would hurt Ruvain. 
“My companion is not your enemy, people of the land!” you shouted. 
They all looked at one another, confused. 
“He’s one of Camus’s monsters!” one of them said. 
“NO, no. You are very wrong,” you explained. “Ruvain has freed us from Camus and sent all of the monsters back to their homes. They never wanted to be here to start. Ruvain is mine. You will not take him from me!” 
The villagers looked confused, but they’d noticed on the way in that no one had put up a fight. The monsters appeared to be gone, and the castle was empty, but what servants hadn’t run the moment no one was looking. 
“Her Majesty (Y/N) gives me too much credit,” Ruvain said, smiling down at you. “She is the one that deserves your thanks for freeing us from the nasty lich. I am only her servant, bound by the same gratitude as you should be. She is my Queen and should be yours as well for her service to the kingdom. There is a power vacuum now that the lich is gone. Do you want it filled with some other despot who cares nothing for you or a woman from your own land? She’s brave, kind, intelligent, and beautiful. The countryside will welcome a humble Queen who is one of their own.” 
Ruvain bowed to you deeply. The lead villager gave you an odd look and turned to discuss the issue with his fellow countrymen. A moment later, torches were extinguished, and pitchforks hit the floor with a clang as the villagers bowed as well. 
“Long live Queen (Y/N)!” they shouted in unison. 
You couldn’t help your burning cheeks, but you knew your kin needed strength, not a shy girl, so you tipped your head. 
“I promise to serve you well,” you said as Queenly as possible. “Now, we must rebuild what Camus has broken. You are the bravest, strongest citizens of Ventirest. You came here knowing you would face monsters with only your farmtools and spirits. I can never truly express how your care for a simple farm girl moved me. I would be honored to have you form my guard if you are willing.” 
“We will begin to rebuild tomorrow,” Ruvain said. “For tonight, you have traveled a long way, and the Queen has accomplished much in only a few hours. Let’s all rest. Run and tell the heralds to inform the people Camus is defeated. Tonight, they should celebrate their freedom.” 
The villagers gave Ruvain uncertain glances, but mostly because it was hard not to be frightened by such a large creature, especially one with eight legs. You encouraged them with a nod, and they gathered their tools and took off to the barracks where the monsters used to sleep when they ran the guard. 
“I’ve told you a lie,” Ruvain admitted when they’d gone as he sat you on his back. 
“What is that?” you asked, your heart fluttering, hoping he wouldn’t let you down, that he didn’t do this all to trick you. 
“I told them you needed rest when, really, I just wanted you all to myself,” he said. 
His gold eyes glinted with mischief. 
“Should I be worried?” you asked, your voice wan, and he chuckled. 
“Only if you don’t like orgasms,” he said, crawling down the hallway towards the unused Queens chambers. 
You’d have to fumigate the former King’s room and bed. It all smelled like rot. 
Your cheeks burned again at his words, and a very special tingle shot down your spine to your core. 
When you entered the room, he set you down on the floor, sliding the door shut behind you with one elegant leg. You watched, your heart racing, as he slowly and deliberately lit the fireplace, then the candles, casting your bedroom in soft, flickering light. 
When his gold eyes finally met yours, they were full of hunger. 
"You said you'd rather I eat you than for that lich to fuck you," he hummed, circling you to take in your form. 
He lowered his head, sniffing your neck.
"I liked that," he purred, and a shudder that was something between fear and excitement rolled through you. 
You let out a yip, as he pounced on you, taking you up in his arms and climbing gracefully to a shadowy corner at the arch of the vaulted curling. 
Candlelight flickered in his eyes so that they glowed in the darkness. 
Another surprised yelp echoed against the stone, mixed with the sound of fabric tearing as Ruvain ravenously stripped your dress from you with his teeth. Strips of gold and indigo fluttered to the floor far below. 
“You’ll never don human clothing again,” he insisted. “I’ll have dressed made of spider silk, so you always wear my mark.” 
When you were bare, he examined every part of you, all the white spinning web he crisscrossed to form a large nest for the two of you to rest. 
"Wh-what are you doing?" you asked, your breath shaking as one arm, then the other was bound by silver silk. 
He grinned at you. 
"This is how driders mate," he hummed, diligently tying elegant knots to bind your limbs. Your legs were tied open, and your neck and hips pulled slightly so your back was arched, your breasts presented to him. 
You had to admit the knots and lace he formed with strong, nimble fingers were beautiful and complex. You trembled both with a touch of fear and a lot of desire. His chest and arms were chiseled from a lifetime of climbing around lofty places. Your eyes followed his elegant movements. 
The men you'd known from town were stocky and strong from a farmer's life of chopping wood and eating beef, but Ruvain's figure was all athletic elegance. His muscles were chorded and lean, flexing as he tightened one knot and then another. 
It was a delight to watch. 
When he seemed happy with the lace of web he'd tied you up with; his attention turned to you. A finger traced your breasts, then drifted lower where his eyes ate up the tender flesh between your thighs. 
"I've been dying to taste you, darling," he said, glancing up. 
His lips brushed yours lightly at first, and then as if you were a sweet surprise, they landed more firmly, his tongue pushing into you. 
"Mmm," he groaned, tasting you as it slid over yours.
When he pulled away, he looked ravenous.
Lowering his head, he returned to examining you between your thighs, fingers parting your folds.
"I'm fascinated by your anatomy. Your two legs hide such a pretty treasure." 
He circled your clit, making you moan. Never in your life had you thought being trussed up would get you hot, but your cunt was dripping for him. You squirmed in the soft silk bindings, testing their tightness. You were his prey. He could do what he liked to you. 
Unable to hold himself back any longer, his head lowered, a long, searing tongue collecting the moisture at your slit. 
"Mmm," he hummed, licking you with long strokes between pressing kisses onto the inside of your thighs. "I love how soft you are. You're going to feel so good on my cock." 
His tongue explored your channel, making you let out a loud gasp. 
"Mmm, Ruvain," you murmured, making him chuckle, the silky laugh that made your nipples harden. 
"Are you eager for me?" he asked, teasing you with a finger as his eyes focused on your face, a smug smirk on his lips. 
"P-please Ruvain," you whimpered, every inch of your skin tense and sparkling, begging for release. 
"Be patient, little human," he purred. "I'm still exploring." 
One finger circled your back hole experimentally before two more entered your pussy. 
"Ahhh!" you mewled, twisting in your bonds. 
He lowered his head again, licking and sucking your clit until your pleading and sobbing filled the room. His fingers worked inside you gently, the third teasing you where you'd never been touched before. You didn't know it could feel good, but he drove you mad. He brought you higher and higher until you cracked, and an orgasm bloomed from deep in your core and blossomed over your whole body. 
Your nipples especially were tight and desperate for his touch. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, sucking your flavor off the ones covered in your juices. 
"Mmm," he said, briefly closing his eyes as he savored you. 
When you'd regained your senses, Ruvain was perched over you, palming his cock as he watched you. His other hand pinched a nipple, twisting it gently to see your response. The eyes you were trying to keep open squeezed shut as he toyed with them, soon leaning down to play with them with his tongue. 
"So sensitive," he growled, and you felt his sharp teeth nip at the sensitive skin, "and so vulnerable. You're all mine. I could keep you up here forever and torture you, making you fall apart over and over again for me." 
"I need you, Ruvain, please," you whimpered, your eyes on the large shaft he was stroking in his hand. 
The smile on his lips widened to show all of his sharp teeth. 
"I do like it when you beg," he hummed. "Your sweet pleas are very hard to resist." 
He didn't make you wait any longer, sheathing himself in your hot, wet cunt. He hissed, and his hands gripped your hips as he seated himself inside of you. 
"You're searing inside," he groaned, sliding slowly out and thrusting back in with a bit more force.  
You jerked in the silk as he drove into you for several strokes, purely for the pleasure of breaching you, before his sense came back to him. His eyes shone as he kneaded your breasts and curled his body down to you to invade your mouth with his tongue. It moved against yours, mimicking the treatment your pussy was getting. 
His powerful hips slammed into yours, held firm by his web. You cried out in his mouth, and you heard a lusty growl build in his throat. He pulled back, leaving your lips wet and shining. 
"That's it my sweet little human, milk my cock," he hummed, never taking his eyes off of yours. 
Your pussy was doing all of the work since you couldn't move, squeezing and spasming around his thick cock. 
"You belong to me. Every inch of your tender flesh; your mouth, your cunt, your cute little asshole are mine to use and enjoy," he growled, one hand clutching your throat while he pounded harder and more raggedly.
 "If anyone else touches what's mine, I'll kill them, slowly. You understand? I'm never letting you go. I'll never tolerate a competitor," he promised. "I'll let you perform your duties as Queen, but if you ever let anyone too close, I'll steal you away to my homeland, fucking your pretty body until you forget about this world altogether. I’ll make you my toy. You'll cum when I let you and beg me for my seed…and I will make you beg."
His threats were lost on you. Your thoughts were scattered, drowning in bliss as he filled you over and over again. Your pleasure was at his mercy. He could give it and take it away as he liked. Fortunately, at that moment, all he wanted to do was give. 
His finger circled your clit, while he sucked on your nipples, pushing you closer and closer to your end. 
"Beg me," he demanded. "Beg me to let you cum." 
You would have agreed to anything. 
"Please, please , Ruvain, please, don't stop," you wailed. "You feel so good. Please let me cum!" 
He gave you a devious smile at you as his eyes rolled back in his head. 
"Tell me you want me to fill you with my child," he demanded. "Tell me I'm the only one who gets to spend his seed in your womb." 
Your eyes squeezed shut, hovering just on the tip of an explosion. 
"Anything you want, Ruvain," you said. "I'll carry your child. I'll give my body to you; just please don't stop!" 
He laughed, pleased that you were willing to be his, and doubled his efforts. His mouth crashed against yours, pulling your tongue into his mouth and stroking it. You felt pleasure in places you'd never felt before. Your lips and tongue were sparkling. Your breasts ached, brushing against his chest, your nipples hard points. And finally, your cunt felt like a vice on his cock, his thick shaft hitting every sensitive spot. 
You detonated in his arms, the world dissolving, and your only conscious understanding was Ruvain's scent, touch, and delicious, overwhelming pleasure. Colors exploded behind your eyes, and your body felt like fireworks. Your muscles went completely limp as Ruvain emptied his cum inside you. There was so much, waves of hot fluid gushing from your cunt. You heard it splash against the stone floor far below you from somewhere far away. 
"I love you, (Y/N)," he breathed in your ear. "The moment he stole you from your village, you were mine. You may take time to feel the same tenderness for me, but I'm happy to wait." 
He carefully extracted you from the nest he'd made, orienting himself so he could tie you to his chest with more silk to rest. 
In any other circumstance, you would been frightened being so far up, but you felt perfectly safe tied to Ruvain's body, and your thoughts quickly muddied as you fell asleep.
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jarofstyles · 2 months
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Golden
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Hello and welcome to Verboten (BFF!Dadrry) part 10!
I hope you enjoy this fluffy smutty piece because the next few will be... interesting ;)
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Verboten Masterlist
WC- 2.5k
Warnings- mentions of anxiety, smut, breeding kink, age gap, daddy kink
----------
Y/N did not want to leave Italy. 
She had fallen in love with the people, the food, the weather, the culture- and Harry. 
That was pretty clear at this point. 
His hand held her thigh under the table as they dined outside under the covered balcony, the sea air ruffling the hair that had escaped her pearly claw clip. They only had 2 days left and while she had been trying to focus on the time they had left, it was only more daunting to realize they had to come home and deal with their relationship. Telling the people who needed to know. 
Lia. 
Y/N had felt an awful pit in her stomach as she answered Lia’s messages every so often, thankfully her best friend being distracted by her own girlfriend to worry too much about texting her best friend. For once, she was relieved for the lack of bros over hoes. 
She was galavanting across the Italian coast with her best friend’s father. Sucking him off on the yacht he had chartered, clinging to his body in the salty water, letting him kiss away tears from laughing too hard and one too many drinks. His hands had almost constantly been on her and she had welcomed, no, encouraged each and every bit of it. 
Her teeth marked Harry’s golden skin, the Italian summer sun having left its mark on him in a delicious way that had Y/N almost feral. Her nails, that he had paid for being redone just a few days ago, leaving scratch marks on his back and also soothing him to sleep on a rocking boat yesterday while he had rested his head in her lap as she read. 
They weren’t just having sex. They were in love. This was a relationship, something that would be seen as the ultimate betrayal. But Y/N wasn’t going to give it up. 
Her whole life, she had been the one to give things up for people. She always tried to take care of everyone around her, her family, her friends, even strangers. She’d been the constant shoulder to cry one and the one ready to brave the world and her own fears for other people. So when Harry gave her a little taste of how good it felt to be taken care of, she fell in love with it. Albeit guiltily, she was letting him do the things he wanted for her- and she’d never seen him shine like this. 
Harry had always liked taking care of people, but he was far more selective. He had a big heart, yes, but it had stayed particularly guarded. With the money he had, the people he’d met, it had been an early lesson for him to know that yes, he could help but he had to cherry pick the people who would be actually deserving. Y/N clicked all those boxes. She provided him with a level of comfort, pleasure and affection that he’d always dreamt of. She allowed him to spoil her more and more each day, but he was eager to do more. As many times as he could admit his adoration for her, he wanted her dripping with diamonds and the things she wanted to wear, never to worry about a thing again. She’d worked hard in her life and god damn it, she fucking deserved it. She said thank you, smothering him with kisses with every surprise he had given her, every little fucking thing, and it made him feel so good it was ridiculous. From a cute pen he’d seen in a market stall to the yacht surprise, each little thing garnered a excited, sweet reaction from her. So he wanted to do more. 
“I know that we only have our two days left…” He stroked over her thigh, pads of his fingertips tracing the bend of her knee and back up. “But we’re going to come back. I promise. I’ve got the house here and I can work remote…” His face was soft, understanding that she didn’t want to go back home. It was such a welcome relief being here, so needed and refreshing that all it could possibly do is strengthen their foundation.
“I know.” She replied, placing her silverware down before taking a sip of her drink. “It’s just… I know that it’s probably going to be ugly for a while back home. Just as a general rule. I don’t want to hide at all, I’m not ashamed of being with you but I know there’s going to be a lot of blowback.” Y/N tried to explain it without it seemingly like she was backing out of their relationship. That wasn’t the case at all. “I know I’m going to lose some friends over this. And maybe I do deserve it. Maybe I shouldn’t have made a move on you, but it felt right. I needed to do it, and I don’t regret it at all. It’s necessary growth for us, and I can understand that but I just feel… anxious, I guess. To see who chooses to stay and who chooses to go.”
That was something Harry hadn’t really thought about, and as awful as he felt about it- he was more relieved that she said she didn’t regret it. Of course he didn’t want any blowback at all. “It’s tough, isn’t it my love?” He sighed sadly, gently grabbing her hand and bringing it up to his mouth. His lips pressed against her knuckles, the subtle sound of them disconnecting making her smile. “I know. It’s a risk, and I’m going to upset my daughter but you know… I want to be happy. I deserve love, and so do you. You’re of age, we’ve discussed a lot, it isn’t like we’re throwing this in anyone’s face to upset them. If our happiness matters so little to everyone ese, perhaps it wasn’t a good fit for them regardless.”
The only person’s reaction either of them really cared about was Lia’s. Harry was prepared to catch the brunt of her explosive temper. He was a grown man and he had been divorced for a bit. He understood that his choice in romantic partner was going to upset her, and he didn’t blame her. Neither of them could, because they both were rational and knew that it was a fucked up situation. He just hoped that they could work through it. He’d tried to pick Y/N’s brain about it but she seemed to understand her fate in this. 
Lia wasn’t going to forgive easily, nor would their friendship ever be the same, but she was hoping that with time, they could mend what was inevitably about to be smashed up. Make a mosaic out of the pieces that were bound to shatter. Harry meant so much to her already and she couldn’t give up the chance of having a lifetime sort of love. Her romantic heart couldn’t handle it. 
“You know…” Her lips tilted up. “I have always been a romantic. I always wanted love but I pretended I didn’t. I thought… maybe it would help me avoid being hurt. I’ve been afraid of having my heart broken for so long, I never was able to properly hand my heart over to anyone. They could maybe touch it, but it was under lockdown. It was really weird when…” She licked the wine from her lip, looking at his slight sunburned nose as she found her words. “It was really weird for me when I found myself wanting to hand it over to you. Like I knew you’d keep it safe. I’m still adjusting, I’m still learning but I feel so safe with you, it’s hard not to just give in.” 
That was music to his ears. His smile was brighter than the sun when she finished, his hand placing hers on his cheek as he pressed tiny kisses to her inner wrist. It was hard not to pull her into his lap, but he had to keep some decorum in this situation. His girl felt safe enough to hand him her heart, and that boost it gave him almost sent his own beating chest to the moon. “It’s safe with me. Always. I won’t let anything happen to it, not from my end.” He couldn’t promise nothing else in life wouldn't hurt her- but he would be damned if he didn't try. 
—--
“Go ahead, baby. You can have what you want.” His hot palms held the backside of her thighs as she lifted the sundress over her body, breasts spilling out as it was tossed onto floor. Harry’s cock was thick in his palm, wet from her saliva as she had gotten on her knees for him as soon as they’d entered the living room of the villa. Sucking with fervor, the younger girl had gotten him slick with her spit before he pulled her up to let her climb into his lap. 
“I want you.” Y/N whispered, hand going between them to angle his cock against her properly. Harry’s groan was motivation as she slipped down, only taking a bit at a time as she shakily exhaled her whine. “I want you to take me, and keep me. I want to be your girl, Daddy. Please.” Her hands held his shoulders, keeping steady as her cunt sunk down on his length. “Want t’be your girl and I want you to come home from work and love on me, want you to text me to be naked in your room for you, want to make you dinner- I just want to make you happy.” 
Harry was nearly speechless as her whiny demands, her true heart showing as she squeezed his shoulders and finally got seated fully on his cock. “Y-yeah? S’what my girl really wants?” It was like the world had answered his prayers. He was buried inside of her hot cunt, her mouth saying all the words he’s been itching to hear for a long while now. “Want to give that t’you. Should just live with me, hm?” He cooed. “Move right into my bed so you’re always there for me, and m’always there for you. I belong to you just as much.” His head rested against the couch, gently helping her lift up and slide back down slowly on his cock. Finding her pace, he wasn’t going to complain. 
“I-Should I?” She asked, eyes wide and hazy as she sunk fully back down, full to the brim with his cock in her tummy. “You’d want that?” It wasn’t probably the place to have this discussion but hey- he wasn’t going to deny it anymore. The idea of her going home to her place when his own place was empty sans himself, when she made it feel like a real home? He wanted her there. Possessive, needy, perhaps he was, but he really did want her there. It was moving quickly but it felt like maybe he needed it. No more waiting. 
“Mhm. You’re with me a lot but… Stay with me all the time, baby. Want my girl around, want to live with you.. Never want t’see you leave.” His lips connected with hers as she began to grind slowly on his cock, his hands sliding up to cup each side of her ass. Her kiss back was just as messy as her cunt, the feeling of being full making it hard to focus on anything but how good she felt and the feelings swarming her at the idea of moving in. “Move all your things in… Let daddy buy you more pretty things for your closet. Let me clean it out… let Daddy take care of you, find you a job you really like.”   Harry knew he was pathetically whipped for this woman, but he had no intention of hiding that from her. Y/N deserved to know how loved she was. 
“Y-Yeah, please. I want to be with you all the time.” Her nails dug into his skin a little as she bounced a few times on his prick, making them both moan. “Just want to be your girl, Daddy. Want to be yours in every way, want to smell like you, sleep in your bed, I want to- I want you.” Her confirmation was everything to him, sitting him up as he beamed. His strength was used as an advantage, turning them over so she was laid on the couch and he could look down at her. 
“Good. You are- you’re Daddy’s perfect fucking girl, and m’gonna spoil you rotten.” He spread her legs open, looking at the mess where they connected. Her poor cunt was still swollen from this morning but she took it like a camp, shuddering when his thumb brushed her clit. “God, handing yourself over to me… Love it so much. M’gonna take such good care of you, baby.” His promise was true. Her hand clutched over her breast, nodding up at him as her body tightened up slightly. The stimulation and new angle made it hard for her to breathe in the best of ways. 
His thrusts were deep and full of promise. Groaning through his teeth as he watched her underneath him, watching her face twist with pleasure and her stomach jump with his thrusts, he knew he didn’t ever want to see a body other than hers under him again. “S’my perfect girl. Going to wake up to you every day and see that perfect face, make you just as addicted to me as I am to you and this perfect body. You’ve ruined me.” Y/N had made him a man on his knees, weak for a woman when he swore he wouldn’t again. Only this time, it was worse, and he didn’t fucking care. He’d give it all up for her. “M’keeping you. Y’know that, baby? You belong to me, and m’gonna give you everything you’ve ever wanted…” one of hus hands fell down to her stomach. “Remember what we talked about? Hm? What did you want daddy to give you- What did you beg for?”
Y/N got even more wet, mewling at the pressure on her stomach as she remembered exactly what it was. “A baby- I want you to give me a baby, Daddy.” She whimpered. “Y-You said, you said you’d get me pregnant and I want it. I want it, I want you to breed me and keep me full and- oh, fuck.” Y/N’s begging was cut off with his deep thrusts gaining speed. He’d lifted her just a bit, abandoning her clit to pull her lower body up just a bit with his hands. Her eyes watered, feeling his cock punch right against the spot she had desperately needed with the adjustment, hands flailing to grab on to the couch as she got fucked. 
Harry liked the sound of that. Far too much. 
“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you the pretty house, pretty ring, pretty babies in you… You’re driving me mad. God,  I fucking love you. Stay with me, forever.” His face was beaded with sweat as he fucked into her deep, imagining those very things. She agreed to the house, moving in with him. He was sure that would be the direction they were going in. He wouldn’t let her go. 
Regardless of how much it could cost him.
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berriblossom · 9 months
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Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader |Suggestive stuff, sex but not very descriptive, fluff, lazy evenings with the General. mentions of marriage, and cooking lessons.
✄---------------------------------
Jing Yuan was a well-received man among the Xianzhou Luofu, not only as the general within the seat of Divine Foresight but also as the general of the Cloud Knights, and a beloved one at that. But even with the dozing general's behavior within the past few weeks despite his occasional need to rest his eyes, some of his dear soldiers found him a bit off.
The general seems out of it, even more than usual. His eyes would drift off, his voice would sound as if he was hardly present, and his sleeping habits? Usually, it was a few naps here and there, but the Divine Commissioner Fu Xuan pondered if the general was going senile. He would completely knock out on his desk, barely speak, and only mumble about needing to head to the market about something.
Was he trying to prepare a feast? When Fu Xuan asked Yanqing the general's junior, "What in the world is going on with the general? He is needed immediately for some reports and a few details about the Xianzhou!" The sage mirrored Yanqings already confused face. "I don't know where he is.." Yanqing offered with a shrug. The poor boy didn't know either. Where was Ying Juan?
....
"Now add more water. Not that much!" You semi-shouted. Jing Yuan faulted his movements and stopped adding the water from the pitcher. You checked the large pan to see if the mixture was too diluted or not enough. Taking the wooden spoon you tasted it a little more. "Add some more chilies and some more salt." The general listened to your command accordingly and added a few more grounded chilies and a pinch of salt. You sprinkled some sugar into the tomato-based mixture. Giving it a taste some more, you handed the spoon off to Jing Yuan.
With a satisfied grin and lick of his lips a signature grin formed on the lips of Jing Yuan. "Is this is? Do we add the eggs now?" The excitement bounced off him and made you smile back too. Shakshuka isn't a fairly hard recipe, but it's somewhat new to the people of Xianzhou. You handed him three large eggs and let him crack them into the pan. Letting the egg whites warm and finally cook to a good temperature you quickly set the table and prepare some plates and other sides made earlier.
Jing Yuan smirked as your eyes lit up as you congratulated him on successfully creating another dish. It wasn't that he couldn't cook, he was partially and ok-cook. However, your family has owned a restaurant within the ship and it was becoming popular due to the somewhat foreign dishes presented to it. So much as so, the General of the Cloud Knights asked you to personally cook for him more often. Was this his way to get an excuse to see you more often rather than the beautiful women behind the counter of one of his favorite new places to eat? Yes. Yes, it was. Was he ashamed? Nope.
However, when you instead asked if you could teach him to cook some of the dishes since he was so adamant about eating your food. So badly you felt like he needed to learn how to cook. Hence how the deal was formed. Jing Yuan would spend a pretty penny on getting some ingredients that he had to hunt for on the Luofou, including certain spices, herbs, and even certain types of milk. Every night he would welcome you into his home and fill his kitchen with all the ingredients on the list you would send him. In return, you'd teach him and even let him have some recipe cards or coupons for your family's restaurant. Plus he got to spend more time with you. But night after night and lesson after lesson, Jing Yuan didn't want to let you go.
Each time you'd hold him tight and compliment him on his growing skills or your star-like eyes when you'd taste his newly refined dishes was enough to make the general feel a lovesick grin on his lips. The nights he wanted to ask you to stay a little longer, to taste more of the food he wanted to give you. He wanted you to hold him close again, smile at him with those lips he wanted to taste the food off from. To taste you fully was a wish he buried within his chest and mind every night when you two would bid farewell until the next evening. For nights he would lay awake and wish you were next to him. His heart couldn't;t take it every time you'd smile, or how when you want to know something is too hot, you'll stick your tongue out like a cute puppy.
Speaking of animals, Mimi loved you! You'd spend a good thirty minutes just relaxing and cuddling Mimi, Jing Yuan from his kitchen would peak out and check on the two of you. At first, you feared the lion but the moment you realized she was similar to her owner in a more special way. It was keen that the two of you would be close. Which was a win in Jing Yuan's book. The times you'd gather at the table with him, handing her some food specially made for her (cat food but make it for lions oml), Jing Yuan didn't think of a more perfect situation with the two of you.
This night after the shakshuka was finished, Jing Yuan helped you make the table and set the table again, but this time he felt it would be the last time. The tone of the evening wasn't as light or as airy as before. This time he could sense a bit of sadness behind your smiles, a bit of anxiety behind your voice. Tonight it would be the two of you again, Mimi was off in her own world with her bowl of food, but even when you greeted her it was different. You sat down beside the general and begin eating the portions he served you, his eyes watched you analytically. He was trying to figure out what was on your mind.
Why not ask, then?
"Something wrong with the food dear?" The nickname came out of habit, more so than Jing Yuan would want to say. You shook your head quickly, and you snapped out of your somewhat of a daze. "No, not at all, I just..ah.." You looked around trying to avoid his golden gaze. A large warm hand held yours gently.
"Hey, [Name]..darling look at me. What's wrong?" He leaned forward a little and tried to use his other hand to direct your chin to face him. Your eyes met, Jing Yuan's eyes were full of life but seemed drained. Making you feel a bit more guilty. While the general was beyond enthralled with your eyes. The color was something he could see a thousand times but yet on you, as your eyes...it was the most beautiful color. To him, it was a work of art, an artist full of life perfectly and personally colored them, full of shape and raw natural beauty. Your lips pulled into a frown as you answered him finally.
"I just feel guilty, you seem a little more distracted lately because of the little lessons and such...plus your sleep is being thrown off because of how late I come by and I don't want you sacrificing sleep or your position.." You were silenced when Jing Yuan's chuckle sounded through the space. (Mimi's small snores also combated that, but let's not ruin the moment)
Jing Yuan took in a breath. Both his hands were now holding your face in place, and his soft smile bloomed against the light of the dining area lamp. The warm colors of his eyes were like little stars waiting for you to make a wish on them.
"You are in no way a bother to me, my job, or my sleep. Matter you make them seem better. I was the one who asked you to cook for me personally. You had more reason to teach me to cook those dishes. Your laughter, voice, and smile make me want to spend all the hours of the night with you. Every night, as of fact."
Jing Yuan, for that time, didn't care really about anything other than your smile. He wanted to know what you wanted of him so he could give it to you. "Please let me indulge a little for tonight...my dear?"
The warm, strong hands held you close as he felt your body press with his. The shakshuka? Forgotten on the table. The stove was off, and the food could get cold, but right now, he wanted to taste, feel, and bring life in your warmth. Your lips connected first as a small peck, a little easy test for what was to come. Then the kisses became more hungry, groans, moans, and the daring touches of his hands moving any which way you wanted them to.
Jing Yuan kissed along your face, down your jaw and neck. His hands slipped underneath your shirt and held the skin of your abdomen and stomach against his sturdy frame. His eyes focused on you, and you only.
When you whispered his name as a pleas for him to continue he corrected you once.
"For tonight and hopefully for every night beyond this, call me Jing Yuan, not general. This time I'm not here for the lesson but for you. My dear, let me get a single taste of you and your love along with mine."
Guiding you beyond the table and into a different room, Jing Yuan layed you down along the bed, his sheets were soft and warm, his hands were a contrast due to the rough nature they were accustomed to. But his touch on you was gentle.
Throughout the night, your moans, his words of love, and admiration gave a bloom of love. Within Xianzhou, the people live beyond what would be considered normal, so marriages were scarce, but at this moment he wanted, no needed you to be his. Every morning to have you by him, with your presence, and every night, he would hold you tenderly while he slept at peace.
"Please, my dear [name]! please stay a little longer with me. Just a bit..."
He would groan into your ears, his voice velvety and his words sweet as honey. Food aside, he wanted to have this course again and again until the time finally came for it to end. But for tonight, and so forth until that day comes, you are his, he will forever be yours.
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AN: Sorry, this was a long one oof.
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hopelesslygaysstuff · 4 months
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The Art of Healing: Chapter 6
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Photo Cred: Me
pairing: wanda maximoff x fem! OC
summary: wanda discovers her dominant side
content warnings: smut, restraints, overstimulation, fingering, dildo, subspace
word count: 5k+
Series Masterlist
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡
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A New Discovery
“Alright hon, remember what we practiced.”
Wanda smiled slightly, used to Agatha’s nagging. She would be annoyed if she didn’t know that the older woman was simply looking out for her. One might even say that she was worried, but Wanda knew better than to bring that up. 
“Of course,” Wanda turned towards the woman beside her, noting the way her blue eyes scanned the room they were in. “I’ll let you know if it becomes too much, I promise.”
At those words, Agatha finally turned her gaze towards Wanda. It was their third time out of her cabin, and an important night as well. The first time had been to a small market in a nearby town, and as Agatha suspected, Wanda had telepathy powers in addition to her chaos magic. 
That first time was overwhelming, to say the least. Agatha had never performed so many memory replacement spells as that day. But what can you do? It’s not like she could let those poor townspeople remember Wanda falling to her knees and covering her ears while scarlet waves of magic pulsated from her as she processed everyone’s thoughts for the first time. 
The second time was much easier, since Wanda had known what to expect. They’d gone into the city, simply walking down the street rather than the overwhelming environment of an enclosed space. It was easier that way, Wanda didn’t get stuck in anyone’s thoughts, as they walked past too quickly. 
A man bumped into Agatha, jostling her from her thoughts. She sent a glare his way, before Wanda’s gentle hand on her arm redirected her focus. Glancing down, she took a breath, her eyes locked on the pendant swinging from the redhead’s neck. 
“You know how to power that on, right? I spent a lot of time on it.” Agatha knew her attempts at nonchalance were lacking, but Wanda chose not to comment, instead sending a soft smile her way and bringing her fingers to the pendant. Rubbing it between her forefinger and thumb gently, she nodded, taking a solidifying breath of her own. 
Agatha eyed Wanda’s pendant briefly, scanning the runes she’d etched onto the surface. As soon as Wanda’s magic made contact with the runes, it would send a protective shield over her mind, preventing her from reading anyones thoughts. It was their failsafe, just in case the amount of horny thoughts flying around the nightclub became overwhelming, 
“Yes,” Wanda dropped her hand, her eyes finding the bar through the smoky haze of the nightclub. “I’ll be alright, but first I want a drink.”
Agatha rolled her eyes, knowing that Wanda would order a shirley temple like she always did. Making their way to the bar, blue eyes scanned the many faces, searching for a target. 
“Let me find someone,” Wanda’s voice was low, her breath already smelling like cherries as she murmured the words into Agatha’s ear. “Trust me.”
Sighing, Agatha nodded, feeling slightly out of her element as she gave up what felt like the last of her control for the evening. They’d decided to find a submissive to play with for the night, as part of Wanda’s education. Essentially, Agatha wanted her to finetune her control over her own emotions, and what better way to do that than to exert control over an eager submissive?
Wanda leaned against the counter, sipping her drink as she lazily scanned the crowd around her. Bodies swarmed on the dance floor, laughter and singing rising as the crowd moved slightly out of sync. Music thrummed through the floor, the vibrations of it practically tangible as it wrapped around her body, urging her to move. 
Random thoughts filtered through her mind, and Wanda breathed through it, focusing on Agatha’s past lessons. Just keep breathing, and it will pass. It would apparently get easier over time, and eventually her magic would filter everyones thoughts on autopilot. Wanda couldn’t wait, and distracted herself by trying to hear only a single person's thoughts at once. 
‘Damn, I like the way he’s moving against me. I wonder what his di-’
Wanda visibly shook her head, moving onto the next person quickly. She found it easier this time, her few weeks of practice paying off as the background hum of multiple thoughts layering atop each other faded. 
‘I hope she collars me soon, I just want to be her good boy forever. Oh look, here she comes!’ 
Her curiosity piqued, Wanda found the man who’s thoughts she’d just left. He was near the edge of the dance floor, a wide smile on his face as a tall woman walked up to him. She leaned down, saying something in his ear as he bowed his head, her hands roaming his body. 
Agatha sidled up next to her, hands tight around her waist as she started dancing. “You look suspicious, hon. Dance with me, I know you can multitask.”
Wanda smirked, grinding her hips backwards and feeling pleased at the gasp that escaped Agatha’s plump lips. The hands around her waist tightened, and Wanda felt herself grow wet when she felt the bulge of the brunette’s strap against her. She let herself get lost in the feeling, gently grinding against Agatha as she focused on the woman across the floor. 
‘I can’t wait to make him mine, I hope he likes the design I chose. I want this to be perfect.’ 
The image of an intrinsically designed collar flashed briefly through Wanda’s mind, and she smiled, pleased that the man was getting his wish. A wave of possessiveness shot through her, and she quickly pulled her mind from the tall woman’s, not wanting to get her emotions confused with hers. 
“Good job, Wanda.” Agatha’s voice was raspy, one of her hands snaking around to gently rest against her throat. Wanda swallowed, her breath shortening slightly as arousal pooled in her gut. She shook her head, refocusing on her mission. 
Find a submissive. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?
“We could always postpone this and head back to the cabin,” Agatha’s voice was raspy, her hips moving suggestively against Wanda’s ass. The redhead faltered, almost folding before she locked eyes with a girl at the bar. The girl was sipping a drink slowly, her eyes wide as she watched them dance against each other. 
Wanda smirked, bringing a hand up to Agatha’s head and enjoying the feeling of her lips against her neck. Then, she gently yanked her head up. “Stop, you’re distracting me. Besides, I just found someone. So keep it in your pants, witchy.”
Delighting in the frustrated groan she heard, Wanda ground her hips backwards one final time before making her way towards the girl. Agatha followed behind, her attention successfully redirected, for the time being. 
‘Holy shit, they’re coming my way. Act cool, don’t be fucking weird.’
Agatha snorted, and Wanda realized that she was also reading the girl’s mind. Nudging her slightly, she sent a mental reminder to release her control over the situation, wanting to take the girl’s submission for herself. Afterall, it was Wanda’s control that was on the line. 
‘Good job hon, you’re getting better at communicating telepathically.’ 
Wanda shuddered as Agatha’s words filtered through her brain, the girl’s thoughts still swimming about as she tried to act natural. It was cute really, mentally she was panicking, but she maintained a straight face as the pair approached her. 
Her only tell was the slight tremble of her fingers and her wide eyes as Wanda sat down next to her, Agatha claiming the seat on the other side of the young girl. At first, Wanda didn’t say anything, choosing instead to let her eyes roam the girl’s face as she took her in. 
She had pretty eyes, her eyeliner subtle as mascara coated her long lashes. A few specks of the dark pigment had landed on her cheeks, and Wanda longed to reach up and wipe it away, but refrained. She didn’t want to scare her away too soon. 
“I’m Wanda,” She made sure to keep her voice low, suppressing a smirk as she watched the girl physically react to her words. A light blush appeared on her cheeks, her lips parting as she stumbled over her words briefly. 
“Hi, I’m um- my name is Sarah.” Her words were breathy, her lips clamping shut the moment her introduction was finished. Agatha chuckled, reaching up a hand to play with a strand of Sarah’s short hair. 
“I like this one, let’s play with her.” Blue eyes flashed as Sarah whipped around, her fingers trembling against the glass. Wanda took a peek inside her mind, pleased to see the girl’s thoughts swirling with thoughts of both of them on top of her. 
“Behave yourself for once, please.” Green eyes met blue, and flashed in warning. Agatha conceded, releasing her hold on the young girl’s hair. She moved her hands to a much safer location, resting lightly on her glass while Wanda reached a hand towards Sarah’s rapidly reddening face. 
Cool fingers met her jaw, and the girl turned towards Wanda with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted as her gaze roamed the redhead’s face. Smiling softly, Wanda let her fingers lightly trace the girl’s lips, her eyes locked on them as she felt Sarah’s breath hitch. 
“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Wanda made sure to let her lips press briefly against Sarah’s ear, enjoying the way the girl shuddered beneath her. Agatha watched with a small smirk, nodding her approval when the young girl nodded eagerly. 
Making their way towards the back, Wanda made sure to keep her hands on the young girl. They lingered around her waist, her hips, drifting downwards as Sarah stumbled slightly. Agatha followed half a step behind, reading the girl’s mind as she ensured that Wanda wasn’t getting too overwhelmed. 
Wanda was feeling fantastic. Everytime she moved her fingers, even slightly, Sarah’s breath changed and she would trip over her own feet. Wanda found it adorable, and made sure to keep as much of her body touching Sarah’s as she could. 
Eventually, they made their way to one of the playrooms provided at the back of the club, Agatha murmuring something to the security just outside the area as Wanda ushered the girl inside. Making her way after them, Agatha shut the door firmly as Wanda pushed Sarah against the wall, trapping her with her hips. 
Sarah didn’t seem to mind, her hands shaking slightly as she hesitantly put them on Wanda’s waist, her eyes locked on the redhead’s lips. She arched her back slightly, pressing herself against Wanda's as much as she could, enjoying the way green eyes darkened at the action. 
Feeling the hands around her waist tighten, Wanda maneuvered herself slightly until her thigh slipped between Sarah’s legs. Pressing her firmer against the wall, she smirked when the girl gasped, her hips rutting against her thigh slightly. 
Sensing movement behind her, Wanda glanced over her shoulder, watching as Agatha slowly made her way over to a chair and sitting down. She crossed her legs, getting comfortable as she gave Wanda a single nod. 
‘Go ahead, hon. Let’s see you in action.’
Wanda took a breath, calming herself slightly as Sarah’s hands squeezed her waist once more. The girl grew bolder, her hips moving faster as her hands drifted lower. Wanda turned back towards her, noticing the way her pupils were blown and her breath was coming out in short, desperate pants.  
Moving quickly, Wanda gripped Sarah’s wrists and pinned them to the wall. Pressing her full body against hers, she captured her lips between her own, letting her teeth graze them in warning. Using one hand to hold the girl’s wrists above her head, the other drifted towards her chest, fingers quickly finding her nipple and rolling it. 
The girl moaned, leaning into her touch, and Wanda throbbed. 
“Please.”
Smirking, Wanda pulled back. Sarah’s eyes were slightly glazed, unfocused as she tried to move her hips. It was exhilarating, knowing that she’d made the poor girl this desperate. All from a few simple touches and a single kiss. Wanda wondered what would happen if she did more. 
“Please what? Use your words, darling.” Wanda rolled her fingers again, trapping the girl’s nipple between them. Sarah arched against her, a small whine escaping her as she struggled briefly against the redhead’s hold on her wrists. Pulling slightly, a surge of arousal shot through her when the girl let out a moan, the noise strained as she attempted to surge forwards. 
“I- please… fuck.” She couldn’t get any words out, and Agatha chuckled slowly from her chair. Wanda felt something shift inside her at the girl’s desperation. Something calmed, her mind sharpening past her own arousal as she focused solely on Sarah. 
Humming, Wanda moved closer. She let her lips slightly graze the trembling ones before her. Sarah’s hips moved again, and Wanda sighed. “You can do better than that, sweetheart. Try again for me.”
A frustrated groan sounded out, muffled by Wanda’s lips. Biting down slightly, she slowly backed up, pulling Sarah with her. Catching a glimpse of the bed, Wanda pushes the trembling girl towards it, reveling in the gasp Sarah releases when the backs of her knees hit the mattress. 
Breaking the kiss, Wanda pushes her firmly down until she’s seated on the end of the bed. Nudging Sarah’s knees open, she moves to stand between them, her hands tangling with her hair. Moving slowly, the girl moves her hands up Wanda’s thighs before wrapping them around her waist. 
The movement seems hesitant, and Wanda knows what it means. Sarah’s nervous, yet filled with anticipation at the same time. It’s exactly what Wanda had felt like for her first time with Agatha, and for a moment, she feels like she’s weirdly looking through a mirror. 
“I just…” Sarah struggles with her words for a moment, and Wanda just strokes her cheeks gently, calming her down slightly. Taking a peek inside her head, she’s surprised to find that it's working, and Wanda feels a rush of something at the knowledge that she is directly influencing the emotions and arousal of another person. 
“I want you to touch me, and-” Sarah pauses, biting her lip. Wand nods reassuringly, making sure to keep her eyes soft. “I want you to make me feel good, and I’m already feeling fuzzy.”
Moving closer, Wanda places her lips next to the girl’s ear. Making sure that her voice is low, Wanda tangles her hand in Sarah’s hair before yanking her head back gently, a strangled moan escaping her. 
“Elaborate.” 
Sarah whimpers, closing her eyes briefly as she gathers her thoughts. When she opens them again, Wanda sees that her pupils are blown, black taking over her irises. “Everytime you say something, or tell me what to do, or touch me and move me around where you want me to go, I just sink into this sort of fog?” 
Wanda glances over at Agatha, knowing what Sarah means. It’s slightly intimidating, to know that she’s guiding Sarah into subspace. It’s a lot of trust from the young girl, but at Agatha’s reassuring smile, Wanda calms slightly. Breathing deeply, she calms her racing heartbeat, pausing for a moment before returning her focus to the girl seated before her. 
“That’s a good thing, darling. I promise.” Wanda lets her thumb rest on the girl’s jaw. Sarah closes her eyes, parting her lips as Wanda’s fingers inch closer to them. “Just relax, and let me make you feel good.”
Agatha leaned back in her seat, clenching her thighs together slightly as she watched Wanda gently guide the younger girl into a deeper state of submission. She was quite proud, having worked hard to teach Wanda everything she knew about the kinkier aspects of sex. 
Sure, sex was physical. Agatha, however, liked the mental component involved with the kinkier side of intimacy. She liked the power dynamic, and the shifting of power with a single touch or look. Most importantly, she liked being in control.  
However, in the past few weeks, Wanda had been testing that control that Agatha so desperately craved. She could sense a budding dominatrix in the young redhead, and taught her as best she could without letting go of the reins. Tonight however, was the first step for Wanda in learning to be in control of her own emotions and powers and also exert that same control over a submissive. 
But alas, Agatha was reminiscing. She refocused, her ears picking up on the faint sound of lips dancing against each other as the younger girl moaned openly into Wanda’s mouth. Taking in the scene, Agatha was proud to see that Wanda had pushed Sarah fully onto the bed, hovering over her with her thighs on either side of the girl’s hips. Her hands held down her wrists, and the younger girl was desperately arching her back, seeking any source of friction she could find. 
Diving into Wanda’s surface thoughts, Agatha smiled at the organized mind she found. Wanda was completely aware of her own powers and emotions, keeping everything in check as she focused on her control with Sarah. As predicted, exerting control over someone else helped Wanda immensely with control over herself. Surprisingly, more than submission did. 
Agatha made a mental note to bring this up later to the redhead, before settling fully back in her seat and enjoying the show. After all, who said she couldn’t have fun? Besides, Wanda’s ass looked great from this angle. 
“Pick a safe word.” Wanda pulled back slightly, repeating her words when Sarah tried to chase her lips. Her blonde hair was strewn around her head, her eyes rapidly blinking as she processed. 
“Um,” She tried to get some words out, but couldn’t think of anything. Wanda was still in her mind, and upon realizing how spaced out Sarah was, used her free hand to gently stroke the girl’s face. It seemed as though her touch helped ground the girl, as her thoughts became more coherent, a word popping into existence. 
“Vanilla.”
Wanda raised an eyebrow, and Agatha chuckled behind her. A blush spread rapidly on the young girl's face, her eyes glancing between the Wanda on to pof her and the brunette in the chair. 
“Behave.” The words were sharp, and Sarah’s heart stopped momentarily before she realized that it wasn’t directed at her. Agatha’s eyebrows rose, and she narrowed her eyes as her and Wanda stayed locked in a staring contest, the moment passing quickly. 
Turning back to the girl currently trapped beneath her, Wanda smiled slowly. “That’s a good word, remember it.” 
Nodding quickly, Sarah glanced back down towards the redhead’s lips. They parted, a warm breath that tasted faintly of cherries hitting her cheeks, and she moaned as they met hers. It was impossible to describe just how soft the redhead’s lips were, and before she could start to think of any adjectives, her mind went blank as Wanda’s tongue brushed her lower lip. 
Gently exploring the younger girl’s mouth, Wanda slowly maneuvered her body as she swallowed all the moans Sarah so freely offered up. Her leg moved between the girl’s parted thighs, and using a firm amount of pressure, Wanda connected her knee to Sarah’s core. 
Gasping, the young girl briefly disconnected her lips from Wanda’s. She arched into the touch, and Wanda took the opportunity to attach her lips to her neck, sucking softly as moans and gasps flooded her ears. 
“Fuck.” That’s the only word Sarah can seem to get out, her eyes rolling back as Wanda bites down. The sting of her teeth digging into the soft skin of the girl’s neck causes pleasure to race towards her already over heating core. Moving slightly more frantically, Sarah rolls her hips against the knee pressing so deliciously against her. 
Wanda smirked. 
Giving the young girl absolutely no time to think or process what was happening, Wanda pulled away. Pulling the cuffs that were pre-attached to the headboard towards her, she swiftly attached them to Sarah’s wrists. 
Struggling uselessly against the restraints, Sarah wanted to whine in protest when the redhead dismounted her. The knee against her leaking pussy disappeared, and she let out a shaky breath at the loss. Looking over towards the brunette, Sarah closed her legs at the feeling of those all-knowing blue eyes roaming her skin. 
“Don’t do that.” 
At the sound of Wanda’s commanding voice, Sarah whipped her head around, her eyes landing on the vibrating dildo the woman held. She whimpered, confused as Wanda began walking towards her, setting the toy on the bed before gripping the girl’s ankles tightly. Sarah’s eyes widened in understanding, and she moaned as Wanda forced her legs apart. 
“Do not hide yourself from us. Good submissives let their dominants see every inch of them, and you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Green eyes bore into hers as Wanda spoke, her head tilting slightly. Something about the gesture made Sarah’s blood run cold, and arousal rush towards her already drenched pussy. 
“Yes ma’am.” She squeaked, her breaths speeding up slightly as Wanda raised a single eyebrow. 
This time, it was Agatha who spoke up. “Yes, what? Elaborate for us, sweet cheeks.”
Blood rushed towards Sarah’s already pink face, and she suddenly had to urge to hide. However, there was nowhere to go, Wanda had made sure of that. She took a steadying breath, then managed, “Yes, I’m a good girl.” 
The wide smile of Wanda’s face made the embarrassment worth it, and Sarah sighed in relief when she released her tight hold on her ankles, an unspoken command to keep her legs spread as she reached for the dildo. 
The short skirt that Sarah was wearing was ripped off, both Wanda and Agatha making pleased sounds at the lack of underwear on her. 
“I’m going to make you feel very good, is that alright with you?” Wanda’s gaze was hot, her fingers slowly collecting the wetness from Sarah’s pussy and spreading it onto the dildo. The girl was drenched, juices flowing freely as she attempted to buck against her hand. 
Nodding quickly, Sarah bit her lip. This was what she’d been hoping for, to be fucked by a dominant woman, and now her wish was coming true. It was better than anything she could have imagined. 
“Just remember, if it gets to be too much, use your safe word.” Agatha reminded the girl, her own hand slipping beneath her waistband. She had her legs spread, fingers gently stroking her own protruding clit as a damp spot formed in her underwear. 
Wanda glanced back, taking in the sight before smirking briefly and wiggling her backside slightly as if to say, ‘enjoy the show.’ Then, she turned on the toy to a medium setting. Making sure the dildo was fully lubricated, Wanda teased the entrance of Sarah’s pussy. She wanted to hear her beg, and looked at her expectantly. 
“I- please. I really want you to…” Sarah trailed off, Wanda nudging her clit with the toy and sending bolts of electricity through her. She refocused, eyes widening when the redhead tilted her head again. “Please fuck me, ma’am. I really want you to. Really, really badly.”
Taking in the girl’s pleading expression and sweet words, Wanda uttered a quick ‘good girl’ before thrusting the toy all the way inside Sarah in one, quick movement. Agatha moaned at the same time that Sarah did, although the girl writhing on the bed was much louder. 
Setting a relentless pace, Wanda watched in fascination as the young girl beneath her quickly started coming undone. It was like all shame and embarrassment had left her, the only thing on her mind was how good she felt and how badly she wanted to cum. Pulling her own consciousness from Sarah’s, Wanda focused all her attention on bringing the girl’s orgasm to the surface. 
Agatha slipped two fingers inside of herself, surprised by the wetness she found. She hadn’t expected to be this turned on, but something about Wanda’s dominant nature was just so… arousing. Watching closely, she fucked herself at the same pace that Wanda fucked the young girl. Her own orgasm rising, she held it off as Sarah’s moans became slightly louder, her wrists pulling desperately at the restraints. 
“Ask for permission.” Wanda commanded, and the words came tumbling out of Sarah’s mouth. She begged like she had been starving for days, and her appetite could only be sated by food fed to her from Wanda’s nimble fingers. Her words flowed freely, syllables overlapping as her voice became breathy from the effort it took to hold back her orgasm. 
Eventually, the words ran out, still flowing inside her head but unable to be spoken as Wanda worked her closer to the edge. Thrusting steadily, the redhead enjoyed the unspoken pleas as the girl’s hips twitched as her muscles contracted in anticipation. 
With a few final strokes, Wanda brought the young girl to the edge, and allowed her to fall over it. Overwhelming pleasure coursed through her, and Sarah forced deep breaths of air into her lungs as she shook. Wanda’s fingers danced over her clit, prolonging the pleasure as victorious moans sounded out. 
Distracted by a quiet gasping sound, Wanda turned her head slightly with the intention of asking Agatha how she liked the show. Her surprise must have shown on her face, because Agatha simply smiled widely at her as she trembled from the aftershocks of her own orgasm. Pulling her soaked fingers out from her pants, Agatha let Wanda enjoy the glistening juices that dripped down her knuckles for a brief moment, before sucking her own fingers into her mouth and moaning quietly. 
Working her jaw slightly at the sight, Wanda refocused her attention on the girl now squirming beneath her. Setting the vibration slightly higher, she let a slow smile spread across her face as the realization set in on Sarah’s face. 
Overstimulating the girl, Wanda forced orgasm after orgasm out of her aching pussy. By the end, Sarah was practically limp as the last bits of pleasure were drained from her overused body. Her clit sent painful jolts through her nervous system every time Wanda so much as grazed it, and she was positive that she would be sore for days.
With a kind smile, Wanda cleaned her up using a warm washcloth and soothing words. Agatha helped strip the bed as Sarah felt those same hands that had brought her insurmountable pleasure running over her back, now clothed in a thin robe. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the touch, feeling herself return to reality. 
Sarah had never felt better. 
—-
“So…”
Wanda sighed, sinking further into her chair. She stared into her glass, swirling her wine around  as she tried to collect her thoughts. Agatha had taken over once she’d realized that Wanda had gotten stuck in her own head. Ensuring that Sarah had a ride home and paying their tab at the bar, she’d whisked the overwhelmed redhead home before popping open a bottle of their favorite red wine. 
It smelled faintly of cherries. Wanda sighed and took a sip. 
“I suppose I’m just confused.” That was all she could manage for the moment, and even Agatha couldn’t make any sense of the thoughts swirling around in the redhead’s mind. She nodded slowly, taking a sip of her own wine as she threw her thoughts back on the events of the evening. 
“I mean,” Wanda paused, her eyebrows scrunching together slightly. Agatha wanted to run her thumb over the wrinkles. She blinked, where had that thought come from?
Running her fingers around the rim of her glass, Wanda continued. “I really enjoy being your submissive, but I was able to control my powers and emotions better when I’m the one in control.”
Agatha could practically feel the young woman’s mind trying not to split itself in two, waging a war between its dominant and submissive mindset. Moving forwards and setting her wine glass down, Agatha moved to kneel between Wanda’s thighs. She reached up, her hand gently resting on the redhead’s jaw as she waited for green eyes to meet her own. 
“You can be both. People aren’t just one thing, hon.” 
Realization dawned, Wanda’s skin smoothing over as her eyes widened fractionally. “Oh.” She felt a bit foolish, but Agatha must have still been in her head, because she chuckled and shook her head. 
“It’s alright if you like being dominant more, sweet cheeks. Whatever makes you the most comfortable will make your partner the most comfortable.” Agatha returned to her seat, sipping her wine as she studied Wanda’s face. 
She was nodding, her red hair falling slightly over her shoulder as she did so. Her fingers still absentmindedly played with the rim of her glass, her eyes focused on the carpet in front of her. Taking a quick peek into her mind, Agatha was pleased to see that Wanda was sorting through her thoughts, placing different emotions into boxes. 
Confusion, in a box. Relief, in a box. Curiosity, in a box. Clarity, in a box. Understanding, in a box. 
The storms in those green eyes cleared, and Wanda looked up with a small smile on her face. “Well,” she drawled, taking a sip of her drink as she met dark blue eyes. “In that case, I quite enjoyed that experience.”
She finished her wine, her mind already swirling with ideas. She could feel Agatha’s smug look from across the room, the woman looking far too pleased with herself. Flexing her fingers, Wanda recalled the way she’d left bruises on the young girl’s hip as she gasped into her ear. 
Looking up, she mirrored the smirk Agatha wore. “I’d quite like to do it again.”
A wild cackle sounded throughout the room, sounding every last bit like a gleeful witch as wine flowed as freely as Wanda’s newfound love of dominance. That night, a new string of fate was formed, connecting a powerful redhead on the verge of revelation, and a young girl, still trembling from the feel of a gun in her hands.
---
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harrysmimi · 1 year
Text
Professor
Synopsis: One where Harry pays for the consequences of ghosting the girl he was seeing for two months
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It was pretty late, but Harry was actually excited to finally get back in university and get his master's four years later!
It was his initial plan to do so but he kept putting it off as he was deep in debt, but now that's he's got his life back on track he was ready to get that masters because apparently the Management field looks for papers along with experience for better paying jobs. And honestly he hates his job as assistant to charted accountant now. Though he was already dreading this, his friends Niall and Liam were going with him, they were in the same Marketing and Business Law classes to put his anxious mind at ease.
Him and his friends would probably be the older of the demographic in the batch of this year, but who cares? He's there to learn and get that degree with his name slapped on it. Niall was coming over to pick him today as his car was in service for past one week.
"Oh, she's hot!" Niall commented the girl had seemed to heard it as she picked up her pace of walking, "hope she's in our class. She's got a marketing text book in her hand." He was apparently talking about this girl who just parked next to them and started running towards what he hoped to class.
Harry's heart skipped a beat when he saw her though. She looked awfully familiar to him. Shaking his head he proceeded to go to his first class which was Marketing Management.
The lecture hall was massive for the class strength to be of only 60 students, desks arranged in arranged in tiers to give the lecturer perfect view of the class. A projector set up for the lecture already. Harry and his friends had no other option than to sit on the very first desks, it would be pretty difficult of the trio as they've been the back benchers their whole life.
"Good morning class, I am sorry for being late to the class was about to begin ten minutes ago." The professor barged in with her text book and laptop and Harry almost shat his pants. "Settle down everyone, please." She waited for the class to get settled in their desired places.
"First day of academic year it's always exciting, isn't it? Then it all gets dreadful and by the end of the semester you're like "urgh! I can't wait to be done with this stuff!" but that won't be happening in my class, I'll try to not let that happen at least." The professor went on as she observed the class carefully starting from the very back, "let's start with introducing ourselves to the class, I'll start; I am YN YLN. I teach Marketing and Business Law, I've been teaching for four years now. I come from a family of professors, I mean even my great grand parents from my both parents side were teachers. That's something I like to brag about."
She smiled an adorable cheeky smile. She's really a ray of sunshine, Harry decided.
"Now you all don't have to feel pressured to introduce yourself though it is highly encouraged, if not we'll proceed with our first lesson today." She gave the class a moment.
Surprisingly many students stood up and talked about themselves, where they come from, what they like to do, and all the good stuff like that. The class was actually liking her that much even the shy ones tried to interract.
"Oh my god, she's definitely gonna hate me for calling her hot in the parking lot. She heard me!" Niall murmured to him.
But he's got way worse to deal with her. His professor.
Never in his life he thought he'd ever find himself in a situation like this, ever!
He met YN at the start of summer this year on a dating site. In all honesty he was just looking to get laid but for some reason he took it too far with her without telling her what he really wanted. Yes, he is an asshole for doing that, but he did not expected to have karma hit him this way.
Her dating profile was really what someone who was dating to get married would swipe right in a heartbeat. She was same age as him couple months younger even, she could cook (if anyone cared for that), she was well educated, and had a four year teaching experience at University — though the name of the university was not mentioned — she was a mum to an almost two year old boy.
Least to say he didn't wanted to hook up with her on the first date, she was just that sweet and humble. He just dropped her off to hers and asked if he could take her out for coffee and he did. He saw her over the weekend. Got laid as well. Led her on for five weeks straight. For the first time since he graduated he felt like wanting to get into a relationship, but she called off their date twice last minute because her son was severely sick.
Yeah! He totally feels awful for that. He knew she's a mother and he won't be on her first priority list probably for a very long time if he did not blew things up with her. He didn't even mind that she have a child in the beginning.
Maybe he got scared of the commitment? But she would have understood that as she had talked about getting stood up by dates for the reason, but also made it pretty clear in his opinion that she was looking for something serious if things led to other. He felt even more guilty. He just ghosted her.
And he was starting to like her, a lot. Seeing the way how she talked about her son in most subtle way, he found it very adorable and attractive in a way, she even paid all her mind when he talked about his own interests in his slow tone like he usually does which many find annoying. She had way too much patience to put up with him. She did come off as shy and introverted the whole time and not like as she is being in the class right now.
None of his friends knew he was seeing someone over the summer. That was the little down cor why Professor YLN had his heart running like a wild horse. He almost died when she finally noticed him as a sly smirk took over her pretty features making him sink in his seat like a melting ice cube of a burning iron skillet. He wanted to disappear. Throw himself against the wall.
"Anyone from the front desks? Very familiar faces from around the campus." She asked, eying him with a revenge being plotted in her mind. He is sure she's going to be petty with the look on her face like that. She even glared at Niall who commented on her earlier.
She proceeded with the first topic after two more introductions from the students. Honestly she was amazing at her job. Even more amazing than any of the teachers he's had his entire life (apart from his mother).
"Before we dismissed the class," YN said closing off the tabs on the projector for the class, "I just want to make you know that if you do not understand anything, you can feel free to ask away any of your doubts and please be free to give any feedbacks you have on my teaching methods, if I'm going too fast or too slow with the portion. I'm here to help. My office hours are from 3pm to 4.30pm, you can come in to get your doubts cleared if needed in the future."
"If you have any doubts from today's lecture, I'll be clearing those the first thing in the next class on Wednesday. From the next class onwards the first fifteen minutes would be to clear out any doubts and queries. And that will be all for today. Thank you so much for your time today. Hope you all have an amazing rest of the day." With that she dismissed the class, and left the hall.
"Move, move, move," Harry chanted getting up from his chair almost pushing Niall over who was had taken the aisle seat.
"Patience!" Niall stood up making a way for his friends who barged out like a racing car.
Harry ran straight to the bathroom and locked himself up in a stall as he threw up.
God he's going to have to put up with her for next six months. She's probably going to make his life hell in college. He's probably going to have to his arse off for her class. For a moment he thought he'd blackmail her if she tries to fail him but it won't work as he haven't seen her in a month and things came to an end before he even got accepted into this academic institution. His mind was racing with most stupid and fucked up possibilities as he emptied out the hearty breakfast he had this morning.
He finally got up and made his way out to wash his face but he felt like he was going to pass out if it weren't for Liam who came looking for him, he would have had fallen down and hit his head somewhere.
"You alright, mate?" Liam asked.
All it took was for him to shake his head. "Uhh, yeah!" He somehow pulled himself together.
"You want to go home? I'm sure none of the professors would be getting anything important done today." Liam suggested.
"No, no, I am fine." He shook his head again, washed his face and rinsed his mouth and drank some water Niall gave him.
He was going to have to put up with all this because he was so determined to prove his father wrong that he can actually do something with his life. He was still living in the same old studio flat since he moved out at the age of eighteen, now he's twenty-five, he works a job which pays him just enough to live on cheque go cheque. He had that pressure from his father because his sister was going amazing!
She had written three best selling books out there. She is doing so much better with her life than him. She was in a stable and healthy relationship. Had her own house, two cars. Even his step siblings were better than him in many aspects. But he's happy with what he has is always looked over at and he's compared to everyone who's figuratively doing much better than him at every family gathering.
He has even started to skip those now the best he can.
He went back home his cat Evie all tired and still feeling about shit he probably have put YN through. Even the cat reminded him of her now, Evie loved the girl more than him and she was over all for four times at his.
For fucks sake it was just a two months thing he shouldn't make a big deal out of it, man up and apologise to her.
And he did. He texted her, waited for an entire for reply just to remember she was really bad at texting, she admitted to it and that she preferred to talk on phone calls instead.
It was Tuesday night when he called her. It rang through twice but she didn't answer. He just tried to go to bed but he couldn't sleep all night. He wanted to drive upto her house but it would have it's own consequences if anyone from his class saw him. He did talked to many of his classmates on the first day who lived in the same area as hers.
On the Wednesday morning he got to know two his classes were cancelled for the day, which YN takes. That worried him because he saw on Tuesday on campus busy with her other classes. It took a text for him mum requesting him to take her to the hospital as she was having some sever allergic reactions, so he was more worried about that instead of dealing with the shit he had spread.
His mum was very sick to add to his worries, he drove her to the emergency room and waited for doctors to check on her outside. She was advised to stay there for the day and could go home in the evening if everything was under control with the medications she was given.
"You want me to get you something?" Harry asked.
"A bottle of water would be good," Anne nodded.
"I'll be back," he smiled, kissing her forehead he headed out. He had to walk all the way to the hospital canteen as there were no vending machines in this hospital which actually worked. He was already frustrated that he can to walk tem minutes to get his mother a bottle of water she needed. He can do no thing right!
"Can I get a black coffee with no sweetner and a bottle of water please?" He asked the cashier, already finishing for his wallet in his back pocket. He had to wait for his coffee so he took a seat at one of the table.
He decided to call YN again as he waited. She did answered it this time but a phone rang just behind him catching his attention.
"Hello?" He said.
"Hello, Harry if it is not anything urgent can I call you later?" She rushed in a murmur.
"Yeah, but are you okay?" He looked around to find her at the table just behind her, looking all tensed.
"Yes. I'll, I'll call you later, okay?"
"Okay." He said and hung up.
He left her alone there, as she seemed to with a lady who reckoned to be her mother. He didn't wanted to bother her and he had his mother to worry about too.
......................................................................
It was the next morning he got a call back from YN just when he was about to text her again and go on to get ready for uni. His mum was doing good and was sent back home in the evening as expected.
"Hey, you needed any help that you called yesterday?" She asked, getting straight to the point, she sounded very tired on the other side of the call.
"Hi," he took in a deep breath, "ummm, I wanted to talk."
"If it's something related to class I don't know if I'll be help now, but I'll try my best, what is it?" She asked, politely.
"No, no it's not related to class. I, ehm, want to apologise for what I did." He said, "I shouldn't talk about this over a phone call, if we could meet?"
"I don't think that's a good idea now, Harry," she suggested, "and I can't see you right now. Whatever happened I'm just over it, you and I can move on from it and be professionals."
"You're going to forgive me that easily?" He asked. Hurt honestly that she's not going to hold anything against him because he truly believes he deserves that.
He heard a frustrated sigh from the other side, "I have got other things to worry about and what you did is honestly the least of my worries." She made it clear to him, "if you're worried I might fail you in either of your classes, I won't. I am not petty. You've got nothing to worry about just be good with your progress, I assure you will be treated as rest of the students." That hit him like a truck but with a whiff of cold air.
"I am not worried about that." Lie. A half lie. Or you can even a quarter lie. "I genuinely feel bad for ghosting you like that."
"And I forgive you for that, okay?" He was getting on her nerves now which was evident through her voice, "it's okay. Now if you're done, I have somewhere to go to."
"Yeah." He sounded before he heard the line go dead.
......................................................................
YN was miserable seeing her baby so sick. He had a surgery coming up this afternoon which had much higher rates of full recovery but it stung at her motherly heart that he even has to go through all of this.
He was born with atrial septal defect but doctors said it isn't fetal and he can live just normal. He basically had a tiny hole in his tiny heart. It wasn't until last month that he started getting sick and sick, that doctors suggested it was better to get the surgery done. Her insurance covered the costs of the surgery but the stay at hospital for next week was something she couldn't afford as she was paying off the rest of the loan for the house she lives in now.
Her parents weren't happy with having a baby, especially when she got knocked up by a random dude she hooked up with who refused to be involved with his life. She was going through her rebellious phase in college instead of going through it when she was teenager. Her parents being religious did not helped either when she decided she wanted to keep the child. They almost kicked her out and they did, but they came around sooner than she expected, helped her around until she got her life together. She is their only child.
YN was just so shocked when her dad called her one evening to give the house he bought for her to give her as a wedding present which he worked his whole life for. She was really grateful for that because she was really struggling with finances and raising a tiny human. Her parents do teach her lessons which are much needed but they're very supportive of her which she finds herself to be fortunate of.
She had no face to go ask for help from her parents now, her dad had given her everything, he bought her a house and furnished it for her, even her car was bought by him. She didn't tell them that her son has a condition since he was born, until her mother saw her at the hospital yesterday as she was there with her father to get her routine check up done. Least to say her father still loves her that he agreed to help her out in a heartbeat, though they've had a very rocky relationship from past almost three years.
The thing with Harry was least she can worry about. He was just a guy she met a few months ago. Her son was her life time commitment she made the moment she decided to keep her pregnancy. Which was definitely the best one she has made in her life.
She went to see her son who was resting in his room as the OT was being prepared for him. She didn't know how she was going to tell him what the doctors are going to do to him but she was going to try as the doctors have suggested it. A nursed was checking up on him as he had just woken up from his nap. He was a bit sleepy due to the medications or else he is usually tailing after her so she can drop him off at daycare so he can go play with his friends Justin and Sienna.
"How is my little Lion doing?" She asked, he was dressed in his Lion King PJs he threw a massive tantrum for in the middle of the store for, he was obsessed with the show for some reason.
"Mamma!" He whispered.
"He's doing great." The nurse said, "we'll take him to the OT in an hour."
"Yeah, thank you." YN nodded politely at the nurse as she left. "Did you had a good sleep?"
"Mhmm." He nodded pushing his hair away from his face, YN helped him with that. "Simba is there, Mamma look." He pointed at the wall art in his room.
"Yeah, you finally saw it." YN cooed.
"I wan, I wan go home." He looked at her with his big doe eyes, sad like a small puppy, he still stutters while talking even though his vocabulary for almost two year old much more advanced, YN found it adorable to say the least.
"We will go home soon, okay? I promise." She assured him, "do you want to cuddle?"
"Mhmm."
YN sat up on his bed, placing him in her lap careful of the IV on his arm. He immediately snuggled into her chest.
"When we goin' home?"
"Uhmmm, after you're feeling fully better." YN stuttered to answer him, "for that you know the doctor will have to operate on you so you can get better faster and we can go home."
"What is that?" He asked.
"That is a bit difficult for me to explain, my baby, but when you're sleeping the doctor will help your heart feel better so you can go play with Justin and Sienna." YN shared, "Mamma wants you to know that it is okay, I'm here with you, yeah?"
"Mhmm." He nodded, "I miss Daisy."
"Yeah, you miss her?" She cooed. Daisy was YN's Persian cat she has had since she was eighteen. "She said she misses you too, but she wants you to stay here."
"Why?" He whined.
"So you can get better to play with her too." YN reminded him, "you're feeling not well, right?"
"No well." The little boy shook his head.
"Yeah, she said she loves you and wants to play with you loads and loads when you get back home." She tried to hype her up the best she could. He's just two years old to say the most. "I love you."
"I love you." He repeated. "I wan ice cream please, Mamma."
"What else do you want?"
"A big Burger, please?" He chirped in excitement because she doesn't let him eat junk food as much as her friends let him.
"A big burger it is." She agreed using the same tone he used to describe the size of food he wants.
"I wan a lion toy." He demanded.
"You already have one." YN gasped.
"A big one!" He exclaimed the best he could lifting his free arm up to show his mother a size of a stuffed animal he desires. And proceeded to talk about all the animals he likes and randomly talking about food in between.
She wonders if he is going to be a zoologist when he grows up.
He did had a little breakdown, it was pretty obvious an almost two year old is going to be scared to be rolled on a stretcher by strangers to a scary looking room. But he did well. The surgery took three hours in total to be completed but it was a success and he was doing amazing!
"Your son is doing amazing, Ms. YLN." The doctor shared with her during the consultation after the surgery in his office, "he will be off the anesthesia by morning, we'll have to have him under observation for next five to six days — or less depending upon his recovery speed — before he can go home and have weekly check ins if needed for next six weeks."
"Oh okay," YN nodded, "thank you so much for your help doctor. I hope he wasn't too scared."
"He was but we talked about things he loves, he apparently loves animals a lot." Doctor shared the humourous moment with YN's son in the OT.
"Oh yeah, he does." She chuckled.
......................................................................
YN had to go back to work on the Monday as she could not take anymore leaves. Luckily her mother offered to stay at the hospital until she gets off.
She was dreading the office work she had to do, and she have to cover up the portion she missed for week as soon as humanly possible. First semesters usually tend to go faster for her for some reason. She had cut off her office hours for next couple of weeks now just so she can go back to her baby and have talk her ears off about a new animal documentary he watched with his Nani.
She was so grateful that her day came to an end at work, she still had to go home and pack a change of clothes for him and some food for her mother and herself. But he heard knock on her cabin, she saw the same frog face she was harbouring a massive crush on months ago. She wanted to smack that stupid of his when he ghosted though.
"Yes, Harry how may I help you?" She asked, gathering her stuff so she can work the time she gets when her is sleeping. He really had his notes printed in his hand.
"I have a doubt." He said, "do you mind if I come in?"
"Sure." She nodded. He's her student she's not going to ask him to leave when that's what she gets paid for. Turned out he genuinely had a doubt which she explained him in matter of ten minutes. "Is there anything else you meed help with?"
"No, that was all, thank you so much." He smiled. "Are you okay? Saw you at the hospital last week when I was there with my mum."
"I am fine, it was my son he's doing good now." She shared as she closed her laptop and put it back in her bag, "I will share the presentation on the classroom online do you can take notes from them, tell your friends about it too."
"I will," he nodded. "What happened to him if you don't mind me asking?"
"Actually I do mind." She smiled a forced thin lipped smile, "thank you for being concerned though."
"Sorry." He mumbled sheepishly looking down biting on his lip, "I'll take a leave now." With his head down he just left. YN instantly felt bad for talking to him like that.
......................................................................
It was three weeks later and YN's som was back home. He has been doing great and spending all his days with his grandma when his mum goes to work.
YN have finally gotten back on track with the portion she has missed on the days she took off. She had assigned the first assignments to her classes, and god it was going to be a hassle with double the queries coming in her way. She thought five classes including both UG and PG students and one extra class this semester as one of the professor is on a maternity leave.
"I clearly don't get paid enough for this!" She mumbled to herself as she frustratedly checked the first few assignments the students have turned in just to get over with.
Well, she get it. She was a student not too long ago and she is still studying for her PhD but this was atrocious how students actually treat their teachers. She had to turn all of the assignments back to the students with individual remarks on individual assignment.
Recently all she have been wanting to do is just spend time with her baby boy. But all she have to resort to from eight in the morning to six in the evening is just to look at his picture on her desk she recently put up on her mother's suggestion. The boy was doing amazingly, recovering faster than expected, getting back to starting to be active again and be his tiny human self.
YN was going to get him to get a hair cut in a long time now because he willingly asked for it this weekend. And he's been excited about it all week. It was also his second birthday.
YN had decided to go very lowkey on with the celebration unlike her and her father did for his first birthday. She doesn't want him to hurt himself because she knows how hyper he can get when around other children with adrenaline and run and jump around like there's no tomorrow. He still needs to be easy as he heals from a major surgery.
So it was just going to be him, his friends Justin and Sienna coming over for a play date later in the evening in the backyard. His Nana went over board and got him a slide and a swing set to add to plethora of his outdoor toys like a mini golf course and a basketball hoop he got on his first birthday. YN was going to take him out on a little date, buy him two new toys he wishes for and get a hair cut.
She had her day planned out with her baby, getting her all happy and giddy already.
And just when she is about to leave it was Harry coming to her office for yet another doubt. At this point she genuinely started to believe be never has any doubts because she sees him pay attention in class and she never speaks or asks questions, and he asks ber random questions like he did on their dates. He always manages to go to her office with doubts just when she's about to leave. YN finds it annoying because she figured he's always to everything and she thrives on time decipline since she was very young.
"I did not understand the Consumer behaviour." He said, not even bothering to hide his cheeky smirk as he walked in and took a seat on the chair in front of her desk, putting his half written notes on her desk.
"What do you not understand about it? I guess it have been repeated taught to business and management students for years." She reminded him.
"This is my first semester in college after four years of working as an accountant. I think my knowledge has been rusted a bit since." He explained. She took a look at his notes to know what he might have and not have understood. There was nothing but the title of today's lecture written with a black pen in block letters on an unruled page of the book.
"You have literally written nothing." She pointed.
"Exactly, my point." He shrugged.
"What did you not understand?" She asked.
"How does demand law come into play with consumer behaviour?" He asked.
"Because it is basically a behaviour." She said.
"How?"
"You know when prices go high the deman decline and that decline comes from customers desire for not wanting to spend that much on something and vice versa." She explained, hints of frustration now laced through her tones. "And that desire for not wanting to or wanting to buy a particular good is a behaviour by customers who are the consumers."
"Good, okay." He nodded, clicking his pen open, "can you repeat that, please?"
YN took in a deep breath and out, "I will explain this entire topic again, tomorrow morning the first thing in the class and I will be conducting a class test the very next day on the same. Now if you're done with your querie, my shift is already over."
"Hey, I'm sorry," he rushed chuckling, "now that your shift is over and you're no longer my professor, can I ask you something?"
"In premises of this campus, I am still your professor." She reminded him, "and Harry please I am begging you do not do something which both of us would have to regret and face consequences for. I have a son and I need this job."
"I won't, I promise. I just feel bad for—"
"I know you do and I told you I forgive you for that. Make peace with it and move on for gods sake?" She interrupted him. "So when we see each other again on Monday, we're nothing more than professor and student, okay?"
"Okay." He nodded as the dimples on his cheeks disappeared in instant. He just grabbed his book and his bag and left her office.
......................................................................
When YN got back home she couldn't help but shake the face of upset Harry off her sight.
She did started with her usual routine with asking her son clean his play area after she got freshen up and started preparing for dinner with him next to her. She had him fed, gave him his medications and tucked him in bed. She have now moved his bed to her room for the time being so she can keep an closer eye on her. She kissed him good night before she got into her own bed.
She went on to her phone after a very long time. Checking in on what her uni friends are upto now on Instagram. Most of them traveling for work whilst others were just having their own babies. When she stumbled upon stories of Harry.
She is still following him. Just when she was about to go to his profile and hit the unfollow button, she saw him partying with his friends. She recognised everyone from her class, especially the blonde named Hope, being inappropriate in the background as his two friends took shots. Least to say YN quickly unfollowed him immediately.
Yes, she fell for it quickly. She had a crush on him the moment she saw him on her phone screen really. It was her who had downloaded the dating app that one night, she's got no friends who would actually hype her to do so. All them are busy with their own shenanigans. Part it was pressure from her family and her extended family that she's unmarried and already has a kid and part of it was her loneliness.
She matched with couple of people she went on few dates on but none of them went further than one date until Harry. He actually did not judge her when she told him she's got a son even though she's his own age. She had many men and women just tell her that they're not interested in her after she'd casually mention about her son even though she had it mentioned on her profile.
Harry said he actually read that when she swiped right on her. The summer with him was amazing!
Especially when her son was spending much more time at her Nani's house as his cousins would be there. For the first time after having him she has that free time to actually give herself that much needed time. He actually seemed to care about her whenever with her, he'd even text her to check up on her but she is very bad with checking her texts.
......................................................................
The mother and son duo were dressed in matching black hoodies and jeans with boots as they headed out after a nice breakfast with Nana and Nani.
"Ohhh!" The little boy squealed a sound of amusement seeing the London Eye for the first time as they walked to the salon for his appointment. She was going to take him there the next day.
"Hello little lad," the guy who was going to cut his hair greeted him as he placed the boy on a chair and placed a cloak around his neck.
"You don't have to be afraid of the noises the machine would make, okay? It's not going to hurt." YN assured him. She explained the hair dresser how she wants her boy's hair to be cut.
For the longest YN did not understood why he had dark honey blond hair but later learned she had the same hair when she was born but her's darkened up before she turned one. His just decided to blond for a long time. All the while he sat there giggling and laughing, feeling ticklish from the buzz of the electric clippers.
"You like that?" YN asked once the hair cut was done.
"I love it!" He exclaimed raising his hands up in excitement to celebrate.
"Yeah? What do you say then?" YN suggested.
"Thank you." He looked at the hair dresser.
"You're welcome." The guy smiled.
Later the mother son duo went on shopping. They walked around the entire toy store.
"Mamma, I wan this!" The little boy hit at the box with a picture of a pretty blue doll house.
"Yeah, do you also want dolls to put in it?" She suggested.
"Mhmm." He nodded.
"Okay, lemme put that in our cart, okay?" She placed him in the seat on the shopping cart and strapped him before she put the choice of his toy in the cart. "Do you also want to get a few presents for your friends?"
"Yes, yes, yes!"
After they headed straight to parking lot and YN drove them to a restaurant for lunch. They were having an amazing day really. They went back home and wrapped the presents they got for his friends and put them in individual bags like a little hamper. YN remember this was something her parents did on her birthdays up until her eighteenth birthday. It was a nice gesture and who does like gifts. That really taught her growing up that the world really doesn't revolve around ber even though she was quite spoilt as a child.
She wants her son to learn that early, the feel of being grounded even though he's twice as spoilt by her parents.
The kids had amazing time playing their to exhaustion. YN's parents got along with Sienna's mother who held same interests in English and Hindi literature, talking about things she's never heard of. YN never read a novel in her life even though ber dad is an English professor and her mother is French and English professor. It was never her cup of tea which her dad like to tease her about.
"He's seem to be doing really great now." Alex, Justin's dad said.
"Yeah, Sienna missed her friend too, she was asking about him." Marie joined in.
"Yeah, he's doing very well." YN nodded admiring her son laughing and giggling with his friends from afar. He just turned two and he's got more friends than her. "He was talking about Justin and Sienna too. They've become best friends, haven't they?"
"Okay, maybe we should discard that conclusion for a while." YN mum stood up immediately watching the kids now starting to fight over something. The fight was resolved and they were back to playing again. "They're best friends again!"
......................................................................
Everyone came in for a nice dinner YN and her dad made today. The kiss still wanted to play but were promised another playdate tomorrow at Sienna's house the same time. YN parents stayed after to help her clean the mess the kids had made before leaving.
She bathed the boy and put him to bed before she headed down to get herself a glass wine. Though she wasn't a big fan of drinking even a glass of alcohol but she needed it after stressful couple of weeks. Just as she was about to pop open a new bottle of wine Alex gifted YN and Marie after he returned from his trip from Italy like six months ago. He said it was something fruity, like berries. Just as she was about to pop open the bottle there was a knock on the door. She peeped through the hole as she was alone at home and it has gotten quite late at night. It was Harry to her surprise.
"Hi," she said after she opened the door.
"Hi," he smiled, awkwardly, "came to talk if you have a moment."
"I, ehm, do you want to come in?" She asked already stepping aside so be can walk in. He nodded and walked in, took off his shoes by the door. He was immediately greeted by Daisy trying to trip over as he followed YN in to the living room. "Please sit, would you like me to get you something?" She proceeded to walk into kitchen where he followed her to.
"No, I'm good." He said, politely, yet she got him a glass of water. "I want to see you again, I am sorry for ghosting you like that. I shouldn't have knowing you wouldn't do that on purpose unless it was something serious."
"What did you thought?" She was confused.
"I thought you didn't wanted to see me," he admitted, "you used your son being sick as an excuse. I know that was very childish of me and I am really sorry for that."
"Even if you are sorry nothing can happen now, you're my student, I can't pursue a relationship with my student." She kept tone was as low as he could hear with frustrated and upset undertone, "I would never make an excuse. Especially my son being sick. Thank you for telling how low you think of me." Her vision started to het blurry with tears, she looked down quickly to pick up the wine opener and putting it in it's place, next was the bottle
"I don't think low of you, YN, don't say that." He stressed on defending himself.
"Heydar, my son was really sick, okay. I am not going to give you an explanation but that's how I felt when you said that." She shared, "that's what I feel like is the truth. He had an open heart surgery not even a month ago and he turned two just today, you knew I was going to put him first before anyone, even myself. You thought I'm that much of a coward that I'd lie about an innocent two year old boy being severely sick just to get out of the situation with you?"
"I get it, I am so sorry about that." He apologised again with his head hung low, "I never dated since I graduated — well not this once before — so it was a rollercoaster ride to be with you emotionally for me because those were the best two months I've ever spent in a very long fucking time. I just thought after we slept together that you didn't want to have to do anything with me. We became really good friends if not anything more and I ghosted you at the time you needed all the emotional support."
He talks slow but YN stood there listening to him. Carefully. "I want to fix this. Really. But I don't know how to. I want to fix this."
Harry's never been hung up on anyone. Especially since that one time where his friends conned him to basically go on a date and set him up so cleverly. He actually started getting along with that girl and after they both slept together for the first time she just told it on his face she doesn't want to go any further with him. It was worse than being ghosted he felt that time. YN's situation was worse here. He also knew that the pressure from his family to do better in his career had something to do with it that it scared him off from the commitment.
All those times she's just take out even fifteen minutes for him if her son was with her parents, she'd go to see him after work. He knew she was a professor but he didn't know she worked at the University he applied and got approved at. The way she'd go over evey little text he'd sent her through the day, every little meme which sort of reminded of him she'd carefully reply each one of them at the end of the day when she'd finally get the time to look at her phone, entertainment herself to clear her mind for a little before going to bed.
And YN wouldn't lie, she needed that emotional support if not financial support from her parents and she didn't exactly had good friends to rely onto for that. Her brown parents aren't exactly best at showing emotional affection or any affection at all, and she even felt guilty to ask for it because she's put them through hell her entire life being rebellious and especially after getting pregnant by a hook-up.
Though it wasn't anyone's business but the cultural environment she grew up liked to make it their business anyway, very much so that people started side eying her parents, especially her mother for her upbringing. Especially criticising them for having their daughter attend the Sex Ed classes for her own good before she was married, which allegedly influenced her to get pregnant with a strangers baby.
Her parents are long over it but she still carries that guilt with her.
Having a part of her go through a major procedure drained her mentally and emotionally. It is surely a bad time for her (she's certain it is going to pass), she knows no one is entitled to make her feel good mentally and emotionally but herself. So she didn't let the thing with Harry affect her that much, though she did cried the night after he didn't answer her texts.
"I don't know what you want me to do with it, Harry, I am quite confused here." She shared, "I know that I have been clear from the very first time we talked that I am looking for a long term commitment. I've got a son and I can't go out and date every other person and drag him through all of it and scar him emotionally and mentally for his life. I still don't know why you ghosted me like that. That can not be the only reason. I was so hurt that you led me on for two months just to sleep with me. You ignored me the night after I went over to yours and we had sex."
She took in a long breath to calm herself from crying in front of him, she didn't wanted that. "Then again. We were only seeing each other for mere two months. I don't know why I let myself go hurt me like that. It was just a summer fling for you."
"No, don't say that, please." He took a careful step over to the kitchen island separating them. "What I feel for you is still very real, I wouldn't say what we had was just a summer fling for me, I simply got scared of the commitment. I know should have conveyed that in a proper way like a decent human. I am really sorry for that. Please gimme a chance to fix this, YN?"
"So you're not scared of commitment anymore?" She sounded amused.
"I am not." He answered in a heartbeat. "I've got my shit together now. I know fucked up." When she didn't say anything it hit him that they can't technically date because she is her professor now, amd will be even if the semester is over and even after he graduates. "There's no way we can get back to where we left, isn't it?" He sighed.
"I don't know." She said.
"What about after the semester ends? It's not like we got to know each other on campus. We were seeing each other way before." He started brain storming.
"I don't want to talk about this." She said, knowing it is going to hurt her even more with faux convincing.
The university can still hold it against her saying that she should have informed them earlier if they get back together, it's been over a month and half since the academic year started.
She was still not over how he ghosted her. He was the first person she was open to be vulnerable enough to be share something that intimate after having a child. He did broke her heart that way badly.
"Mamma!" YN heard a high pitched call of a whine for her, she looked up to find her little boy going down the stairs slowly, clutching onto the railing. She rushed towards him even though he had quite master going down stairs by now.
"What's wrong, my love?" She cooed to him immediately scooping him up.
"I scared." He shared hiding in her chest, "I saw a monster when I sleeping."
"It's okay," she assured him, "it was not real. Monsters are not real."
"Scared!"
"Okay, okay, Mamma is here with you. You can go back to sleep."
"No!" He whined clutching onto her like his life depends on her in that moment, "I wan Mamma!"
"Okay, I'm here." She assured her and almost went upstairs forgetting Harry was there. But she went down as Heyder clung onto her like a baby koala, dozing back to sleep.
Harry saw her coming back downstairs, he saw her son for the first time here. He never saw his pictures before. But the little boy was wearing mismatched Rapunzel and Iron Man PJs, with a small stuffed bunny tucked in his grip.
"Just stay here for a moment." YN told him as she walked back into living room. She was there for solid ten minutes as her son refused to go back to sleep, so she gave him a sensory book which made car noises to play with as she went back to kitchen after telling him they have a guest over. Heyder tried mimicking the sound of an engine starting which made Harry giggle. He looked at YN and stopped immediately, the same neutral look on her features hasn't left yet but he thought she found it offending.
"Sorry." He cleared his throat.
"It's okay." She smiled herself hearing her son in the living room. He stood there in silence between them two with weird car noises in the back for what felt like ages before he decided he better take his ass out of her house. She isn't going to kick him out or ask him to leave. He isn't going to get his answer, at least not in that moment.
"Alright, see you tomorrow in class Ms. YLN." He smiled, earning a nod from her.
"I'll walk you to the door." She said and followed him out, "umm Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Just don't talk about this to anyone, not even your friends please?" She requested, "I can loose my job and you can get expelled if the word goes to the faculty in a wrong way."
"You're going to talk about this?" He asked.
"I will have to. I have no other choice." She admitted, "don't want to face bigger consequences later for this."
"Okay. I won't talk about this to anyone." He assured her. It gave him hope for reconciliation with her.
As they walked to her front door he saw the little lad trailing begin YN close by. Harry also noticed the balloon and decoration and big Happy Birthday banner in the living room still up, a few unopened presents left on the coffee table.
"It's still his birthday?" Harry asked.
"Mhmm." YN sounded.
"Can I wish him if you don't mind?" He asked, they were already at the door.
"Sure."
"Hiya," Harry looked at her son, bending down to make himself appear smaller, "Happy Birthday little lad." He shied away behind his mother smiling.
"What do you say, Heydar?" YN encouraged him.
"Thank you." He mumbled.
"Of course, darling." Harry chuckled seeing him forward his small hand for a handshake which he returned gladly. He finally took his leave and walked out. It was slightly awkward he wouldn't lie. YN shut the door after he left and locked it before turning to find her son still stood in his place.
"Let's get your bum-bum back in bed now!" She announced, the little boy squealed as he started running around. But she caught him scooping him up in her arms tickling his sides. "Do you want to sleep in Mamma's bed?"
"Mhmm." He nodded.
......................................................................
Months passed by, quicker for YN and slow like a turtle for Harry.
Though he's really gotten his shit together. Set firm boundaries with his parents who always tried to put pressure on him to do better and compare him to his sister who is conventionally more successful than him.
He doesn't care if he's got a partner to settle with. He doesn't care what people think of his job, he loves it!
Harry learned he's been hating his job just because of his parents constant pressures to get a better job, or at least beg his way for a promotion. Well he's been working in that firm for just two years, he left the previous company for their unethical work environment. He's sure he'll get a promotion sooner than he'd expect, his boss is very impressed by it. He learned it was better to not let his work consume his life whilst he still has time to live and enjoy the best he can really.
Somewhere YN was the one behind it all even if she didn't know it. Her little pieces of wisdom in class to her student for occasional motivation really changed his perspective on life. Corporate was fucked and will be fucked for the rest of the days, you just don't have to let it fuck you over and ruin your life. She'd never talked to him about them yet though he knows he had talked to her higher faculty. He doesn't know what they told her, she refused to say even a word about it. She'd prohibited him for visiting her house since.
Harry's sister Gemma and one of his cousin's lived on the same street as hers. His sister liked to have him over for meals because he does eat well according fo her and she likes to spend time with him. They grew up apart from each other after Harry started his middle school and both of them were sent to different bording schools for higher studies so, it was her way to make up for lost time with her baby brother. She truly loves him, Harry came to realise sooner.
He couldn't help but be hung up on this situation with YN. He still haven't gotten over her yet and seeing her everyday does little to nothing to help him.
But once the semester ended, he'd gotten a call from her to meet her up for lunch at the same resturant where they went for their first date. It was her treat she said, celebration of him passing the first of four semesters.
A rather bright weekend it was, clear sky and perfect weather as Harry drove down to this little restaurant. She was already there he noticed. He still doesn't know how she does this even though she's got a toddler of her own to look after. But he saw a little black stroller besides her with his sun cover zipped up and she was busy reading from the University handbook. Thay scared him.
Gathering all his courage Harry went to greet her, the small talk killing him as they ordered their food. Her telling how her son had a doctor's appointment earlier and she doesn't have anyone to look after him for a couple of hours so she had no choice but to bring him with her. Little boy was fast asleep anyway, Harry didn't mind a little toddler around him. Especially one as sweet and well behaved as Heydar.
"YN what is it? You never called me to meet you like this before," he said cutting to the chase, "it's making me anxious."
"Sorry." She mumbled, "I talked to my head of department about, about you and I, and ehm..." She stammered.
"What's wrong? Is everything alright?" His enquiry gree more anxious.
"Yes." She rushed through a breath, "I explained it to her everything, Mrs. Davis, you might know her—"
"YN I'm not in your class anymore." He reminded her.
Caught. She couldn't look up, "okay, I explained it to her that we had been seeing each other since before and we never talked about you applying at my university. Since I didn't had any correlation with you getting approved in the uni, and I had to show her some proofs you can say."
"She said she'd evaluate everything because she doesn't want you to get expelled because you're an exceptional student and she doesn't want me to loose my job. She talked with the school board and they said it was okay." She said. Just her last word was enough to make Harry let out the breath he didn't know he was caught on. "But..."
"Why is where a but now?" His brows pinched together on his forehead.
"But they said they'd evaluate my non-biased judgement on you as your professor as it would be unfair for other students if I were to give the person I'm see a little extra help outside. That is why I asked you to not visit because there are many of my students who live in my neighborhood and new in institutions spread like wildfire." She continued, "they said I should just lay low until the semester is over unless you plan on taking any of the other classes I teach, or until you graduate. We both are going to be under strict eye, especially me as your professor."
"Is it illegal?" He asked.
"Not in the UK, no." She shook her head, "they said because we're of same age they don't see a problem of power imbalance, but there could be possibilities. They just want to protect their students."
He sat there, leaning his back on his seat as he let this all sink in. YN continued, "I understand if you don't want to have to continue us seeing each other, I had to tell them anyway. I know it's a lot to take in and I couldn't talk to you about this until now. I'm sorry."
"Hey, don't apologise." He rushed pushing himself up to sit on his chair, "I know how much you need this job, wouldn't do anything to put it at risk, I promise you that."
"Does this mean you're okay with this setting?" She hesitated to even assume.
"More than okay," he assured her, a toothie grin on his face showing off his front bunny teeth. "I've been hung up on you since little lad's birthday night. I was dying each day and seeing you all week for two hours didn't helped me one bit." He pulled his chair next to her careful to not knock the stroller in attempt to be closer to her, "I might have fallen for you already and easily it's amazingly the most insane thing I've gotten myself into. Let me make it up to you now that we've got ourselves a sort of green flag, yeah?"
"Mhmm." She nodded, opening her arms up so he can hug her. He the exact same wrapped his arms around her middle firmly.
They were going on a date soon!
N O T E:
1) just a fun one I wrote in a few sittings :)))
2) please do share your views in the comments and vote if you want to. It just really motivates me to write more.
Tag list:
@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts
Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list
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smokingtomas · 9 months
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Some random Smoke/Tomas HC
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Tomas' favorite sparetime is reading. Fictions, non-fictions, he doesn't limit himself to a certain genre. He'd take whatever he can get from the Lin Kuei library.
He has this reading glasses with thin, silver frame he keeps on his nightstand. He often reads before bed, too.
The most well-knowledged brother.
He reads because it's the most effective way to get rid of his disturbing thoughts of Enenra. Storylines and character analysis really occupy his mind.
Being the adopted/younger brother out of 3, he's always being told what to do that it irritates him most of the time. He knows his brothers are looking out for him, but this habit dies hard and makes him rather a rebel.
He's interested in normalcy. Since the way he used to live and the life he's living now wouldn't be considered so (based on all the fictions he read), he would sneak out of the Lin Kuei temple to just stroll around the market, go to the public library, sit in a coffeeshop, etc. He really likes to learn about people's different habits and how they behave.
He goes with precautions, of course. Normal, casual clothes, medical masks, anything to appear normal and out of sight.
It's no rare occasion when he gets in trouble for doing so. He'd do something stupid like not paying enough for an orange and ran away. Oh Bi-Han was furious when he found out.
Did he learn his lesson? Yes. He's a quick learner. Did Bi-Han's anger stop him? Absolutely not.
Part 2: with gender neutral s/o
Part 3: in bed with Tomas (NSFW)
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thewritersalchemist · 10 months
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Brandon Sanderson did make smart career choices, but they might not be what you think.
(originally posted on a different writing blog in March 2022)
This is NOT another post breaking down “what you can learn!” from Sanderson’s massive Kickstarter earlier this month. Well, it kind of is, but it’s the opposite of some of the others.
Buckle up, it’s unpopular opinion time.
On March 1, 2022, fantasy author Brandon Sanderson announced a Kickstarter: pledge to help him publish four standalone novels he’d secretly written during the pandemic. He and his team set a goal of one million dollars, and he estimated they would get two to four million total.
In three days, the Kickstarter had reached twenty million dollars, and it currently (as of March 27, 2022) sits at thirty-three million dollars.
The publishing world was—and still is—staggered.
In the last three weeks, I’ve seen a dozen indie authors and marketers try to break down that massive success and what lessons others can take from it for their own careers. Most of them write to various Amazon markets. Some of them made good points. One thing everyone keeps repeating is that Sanderson has made “smart career choices.” But every time, I’ve walked away from those articles shaking my head. Most of the articles seem to be missing the biggest and most important point. It's hard to talk about taking lessons from Sanderson’s marketing before you talk about lessons from his WRITING career.
A few facts:
The four novels Sanderson will be publishing with the Kickstarter money are already written. He wrote them for his wife (and because he wanted to explore new stories) during the pandemic.
He will be publishing them through his own company: Dragonsteel Books. He created the company to publish special editions of his books, carry his book swag*, and have an alternative option for people to buy his books if Amazon ever stops selling his books again.**
Sanderson has a reputation for being reliable with his book publishing. If he says he’s going to publish something, he does it, and he tries to keep fans updated as he goes.
*Book swag / book merch = special items created for fans of books. **Years ago, Amazon briefly stopped selling his books because of contract disputes. You can read more about it here.
And some facts about Sanderson himself, if you’re not familiar with his work:
His first book to be published—Elantris—came out in 2005. It was the sixth novel he wrote, and it was published by Tor. It took eighteen months for someone to read the book and then call him about it.
Before Elantris was published, he’d written thirteen novels.
He now has so many novels out that Wikipedia has a separate article for his bibliography.
He was handpicked by Robert Jordan’s wife to finish the Wheel of Time book series, and he was on the writing team for the Wheel of Time TV series.
So what were Sanderson’s “smart career choices” as a writer?
He didn’t write to market. This is going to be the most unpopular opinion of all, but hear me out, please. Sanderson tried it. Back before Elantris was published, after a lot of people told him his books weren’t being accepted because they were too long and didn’t have the popular format and tropes of the time, he tried writing to market. He’s said those were the worst novels of his writing career. So he stopped. He went back to writing what he loved. That love and passion kept him writing books that have resonated with fans for almost twenty years now. If we’re going to talk about why his fanbase loves his BOOKS so much, let's start with how much HE loves what he wrote and how much that love spills over in how he talks about his books.
He constantly pushes himself to improve. He knew from the beginning that he needed critique, and he got it. Since college, he’s been in critique groups and had alpha readers, and they keep pushing him to be better too. He himself says that some of his earlier books (yes, the published ones!) aren’t his best. He’s honest that he keeps wanting to do better and looking to improve.
When he made plans about publishing, he didn’t just think about it like a writer. He thought about it like an author. He figured out his writing pace and he tried to be consistent with that. You can talk for hours about how he finishes books and how that “makes him better than Patrick Rothfuss and George R. R. Martin,”*** but I don’t see many people talk about how Sanderson learned from them and others and FIGURED OUT what he had to do AHEAD OF TIME so he wasn’t doing that to his fans, intentionally or accidentally.
He also approached his published author career like a reader. He treated his fans like he would have wanted to be treated as a reader. He used social media to connect with them and to keep them posted. He was and still is actively involved in his fandom.
He’s given back to the community. He’s taught at university for years; he’s talked at conferences; he’s free with his advice on his writing podcast; he’s given fans advice for years at cons and book signings and through his website, and he always has a smile for his fans.
***I’m not going to discuss Rothfuss’s or Martin’s choices; I don’t know what’s going on in their lives, and I think there’s a difference between authors having a responsibility to finish a series and authors ‘owing’ fans the way their particular fans claim. This is only about Sanderson and his decisions.
THESE were his smart career choices. THESE are the reasons his books are so popular and why his Kickstarter got to twenty million in three days. Sure, finishing Wheel of Time helped get his name out there to some readers, but the majority of Sanderson’s fans don’t talk about Wheel of Time like they talk about his own books. Wheel of Time fans (some of them) talk about being grateful he finished the series, yes. But Sanderson fans talk more about Elantris, Mistborn, and the Stormlight Archive.
If we’re going to break down Sanderson’s success, we have to go back further than his marketing. We have to look at his foundation and be honest about why and how he is where he is.
If you write to market, three things sell your books:
your ads
your other marketing (but mostly your ads)
and how well you followed the recipe for that market
Whether your plot and characters are objectively well written doesn’t matter as much. (I'm not saying it doesn't matter at all.) Why? Because the recipe is what the ads sell. So if you’re good at following the recipe, readers will keep coming back after their first few from you. Not so much if you like to change recipes a lot or can’t follow one well. You might get other readers, but you won't get that particular market's readers.
I’m not dissing writing to market. If you DO mostly write to market, you won’t be able to take many lessons from Sanderson’s Kickstarter success (or his career in general) because Sanderson’s marketing isn’t what keeps his fiction selling. His writing is. His fan interaction is another huge part.
A note on consistency.
Sanderson is a prolific writer. He can sustain a publishing pace that many people can’t. I can’t, for sure. I would LOVE to be that prolific, but I’m not there, at least not right now. Being consistent doesn’t mean you have to publish every year or write every single day. It means finding what pace works for you and then being consistent with that. If that means publishing once a year, good for you. If it means once every three years, go for it.
Building a fanbase takes time. Sanderson has been publishing for almost twenty years, if you count how long the process took for Elantris. He’s been writing for twenty-five years. No one likes to hear that something they want right now takes time, but it’s the truth. Building a consistent fanbase takes time, and it does tend to take more time for indie authors than traditionally published ones.
I've worked with a lot of competitive write-to-market indie authors. I know exactly how unpopular this opinion is. But for all the authors wanting to really understand the writing craft and find the path that helps them build their own consistent career of putting out good stories, this post is for you. If you're asking “Why is Sanderson so popular that his Kickstarter reached twenty million in three days?” and wanting to know what you can learn from it . . .
This is why. And this is what you can learn.
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your-favorite-bean · 1 year
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A random person: why do you care so much about a kids show?
Me:
*eye twitches*
*takes a deep breath*
While yes, kids shows and movies are marketed towards kids, that doesn’t mean they are the only ones who can enjoy them. and with all of the shit going on in the world today, people of all ages need a little joy in their day, and I’m not going to be the asshole who denies them that joy. Kids love these shows because of the jokes and the cool colors (ngl i still like that too) but older people can enjoy it because of the incredible diverse characters, the lore and world building, and the lessons that are important for all ages. It takes a special kind of show to watch it when you’re a child and watch it when you’re an adult and still love everything about it (not just for nostalgic purposes), you can practically feel the passion and the care put into stories like that. That’s why I’m always going to watch shows and movies like that. I’m always going to write and read fanfics and speculate about thing that are never going to happen and create headcanons about my favorite characters. I’m always going to look at fan art and get so excited that someone cared enough about the show or movie that they took the time and effort to make an astounding art work of it. I’m always going to dream about the season that will never happen after the show inevitably gets canceled. I’m always going to rant about plots that upset me or characters that piss me off, even if the other person doesn’t really understand what I’m talking about. And I will always watch that show or movie and feel the same joy I did when I was a kid.
The other person: …..
Me: in conclusion, fuck you, I can do whatever I want.
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Text
These Nimona headcanons have been sitting in my notes for like two weeks
I just know Bal and Ambrosius were those kids who had to be put on opposite sides of the room in class
And a lot of teachers assumed that they would just give up and pay attention but no
They’re some stubborn little shits who can't leave each other alone for more than five minutes 
And while they were on their breaks they went through the options of “long-distance” communication (because yes these dramatic dorks consider ten feet long distance)
Notes? No that could be tracked back to them
Sign language? No that's too noticeable 
They finally landed on morse code (because these losers would rather learn a dead language than wait to talk to each other)
Now you might be thinking “Roo wouldn't Bal be too focused on the lesson to talk to Ambrosius?” 
No this little nerd records all of their lessons so he won’t miss a single piece of information  
After they became fluent the only thing you could hear in class was the teacher talking some tapping here and there and Ambrosius and Bal holding back laughter with every fiber in their being 
I also know these dorks would choose each other for every single activity 
It got to a point where teachers would beg them to choose other people 
They would listen for like one day and then go back to working with each other 
These losers have known each other for so long that they can read each other's minds 
All they have to do is look at each other and they’re angry or laughing or blushing 
When people point it out Ambrosius will say he doesn’t even notice it anymore 
Bal will say it’s as natural as breathing 
And Nimona calls it creepy as fuck
They could also fill a book with the most random inside jokes most of which they don’t even really remember the context of 
The main trio are fiercely protective of each other 
Bal only got into a handful of fights back in the institute and it was all because someone got a little too comfortable and started talking shit about Ambrosius  
People lost count of how many fights that Ambrosius got into 
After a while Bal stopped wasting his breath by begging Ambrosius just to ignore them and bought a cool quality medkit 
The number of fights Bal got into skyrocketed after the wall fell 
While the majority of society saw the trio as heroes there were still some who called Nimona a monster and Ambrosius a disgrace
And most of those people couldn’t say anything afterward because their jaws were broken 
There was an incident in the market which was could be summed up as Ambrosius holding a man at knife point while threatening to cut his tongue out if he ever heard him call Bal a murderer again 
After Nimona came back the fights increased tenfold 
The first time Nimona and Ambrosius went to the market alone they came back bloody and bruised 
It wasn’t until Bal checked the news that he found out those dorks started a fucking riot 
There were also rumors that a man was missing a tongue but Bal hoped those were just rumors 
One time the three of them went out to dinner and some dumbass tried to jump them 
They claimed that it’s what Gloreth would have wanted 
Bal had to drag Ambrosius off of him while Nimona was egging him on
The first time that Nimona and Bal kidnapped Ambrosius from his office was undeniably the worst 
He hadn’t eaten or slept in days and he looked like he was ready to keel over 
And a couple of people dared to try and stop them 
Claiming Ambrosius “still had work to do” 
Nimona looked them dead in the eyes and said “If you don’t let us walk out of here I’ll make sure you never walk again” 
No one argued with them after that 
Bal told Nimona he was proud of them for keeping their cool
And Nimona replied “Thanks but I definitely broke someone’s foot on the way out”
He couldn’t even get mad at her because he broke someone’s hand
Bal says they’re the reason he’s getting grays in his early 20s 
To which Ambrosius responds “Moonbeam you came home yesterday with a broken nose and busted knuckles don’t talk to me about gray hair”
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boxboxlewis · 11 months
Text
The tourist was clearly Outwith, with a sleek and vaguely prosperous air that spoke to an upbringing on some privileged planet with plentiful gravity and natural starlight. He reminded Max of his sister’s fat babies: all placid and innocent. He was going to get eaten alive on Bas Station, but that wasn’t Max’s problem.
“...I have paid already, to have my authorization expedited,” the tourist said. The slight pause before he spoke gave away that he was using a translation implant; his fluency showed it was an expensive one. Max, Inwith from birth, who spoke three languages the old-fashioned way and tended to view neural implants as cheating, rolled his eyes internally.
“I doubt that, if this is your first time on-Station,” he said. “Show me this authorization, please.” He watched as the tourist fumbled around in a metal-plated rucksack of the sort that was marketed to worried idiots as “theft-proof."
At last the tourist withdrew a holochip, and held it up, evidently relieved he hadn’t lost it. “...Here it is.”
Max scanned the holochip and words in High Bas appeared, floating in the air. By the order of the Commission for Bas, LANDO NORRIS is granted entry to Bas Station and all rights, moreover, to conduct business without taxation or onerous duty, heretofore. Signed, DANIEL RICCIARDO, COMMISSIONER. 
He sighed, and looked at the tourist’s face. “Lando.”
“...Yes?”
“You’ve been scammed.”
Lando’s face literally drained of colour, which was kind of cool because previously Max had thought that that metaphor was exaggerated. “...But I paid him. I paid the man, I gave him money—”
“Yes, usually that is how scams work.”
“...But—”
“This man, Daniel Ricciardo? He is not a commissioner of anything. He's a con man. Does your translation software have that word? He is a crook. A bandit. A felon.”
Lando was gawping at Max unattractively, mouth hanging open. Max sighed. “Let me guess. You met him at some backwater waystation between your planet and Bas. He knocked into you on the concourse, maybe, and said he wanted to buy you a drink to make up for it. You started chatting, and he told you he was a commissioner on Bas. What a surprise, you are on your way to do business on Bas! So he offered to help you out. He implied that, for a price, he could save you all of our annoying intake fees. He showed you a very official-looking ID.”
Lando looked like he was maybe about to cry. He said, “...How do you know this? Do you know this man? If you know this why hasn’t he been arrested? I want the police, I want to make an official report—”
“Well, of course you can try.” Max let himself sound slightly dubious. “But you maybe do not want to start your business dealings on Bas by announcing to everyone that you have been scammed. And Daniel has many friends. Even on the police. Even here, among the border guard, there are those who protect him. I doubt you will have much luck if you go through official channels.” He hesitated, and Lando, predictably, lunged for the bait.
“...But there is something I could do? Unofficially?”
“Well. I of course do not like it when this criminal makes a mockery of us.” Max looked down at his hands, and then back up through his lashes. Time to let Lando feel like a big man. “There are… some people I could call. To have him taught a lesson. It wouldn’t be cheap—and their fee would be in addition to the authorization costs you still need to pay, naturally—but it would perhaps be… enjoyable. For you to know that justice had been served.”
Lando set his jaw. “...Yes. Yes, but this time I want proof. I want photos to my implant chip after it’s done, all right? …Or I’m going to the police, and I’m reporting you too.” He was posturing, full of bluster: that was fine. The main thing was, he was going to pay. Max felt a vicious thrill of satisfaction, which he was careful to keep off his face. 
“You’ll get your photos, don’t worry.” 
Lando, still pale and sweating, jutted his chin down, as if nodding firmly was going to let him reclaim control of the situation—nice try, Lando—and then it was just a matter of sorting out details. 
In the end Lando paid 500 credits for the privilege of having Daniel Ricciardo beaten up: more than Max's salary for three Standard Bas Months. They were unmarked credits, too, which meant no taxes, and no awkward questions from his bankchain. Max was whistling as he made his way home after work.
Daniel was there already in the double-occupancy pod they shared, looking blue and ethereal under the anti-jaundice lighting. “Maxy! Fuck, it’s good to see you. Good day?”
Max leapt onto the sleeping bench and crawled his way up Daniel’s body, slotting his arms under Daniel’s arms, nuzzling his face into Daniel’s neck: making his way back home. “I hooked that tourist you hustled on Barathar waystation. The baby business idiot you sold the fake entry authorisation to? I told him it was a scam and he gave me 500 credits to have you beaten up.”
Daniel’s body shook as he started laughing, sending warm tremors all through Max’s body. “Are you fucking serious? Max, you’re a legend. It’s an honour to know you. Five hundred credits?!” He crooked his knee up between Max’s thighs, rocked his hips up. “With that and the 300 credits I already got from him… feels like it just might be time to put a downpayment on that flyer for you. Get you back on the racing circuit.”
Max hummed and pressed his own hips down. “Hmm, well. The thing is I have already spent the money, actually.”
Daniel went very still but his voice was still warm when he said, “Oh, yeah? Major shopping spree at the arcade, huh?” So he maybe thought Max was joking.
Max had not been joking. He tried to make his voice casual as he said, “That hydroponic allotment you wanted? To grow grapes, so you can make wine like they did on Earth? I’ve leased it. For twelve Standard months, it’s all yours.”
And then he didn’t say anything more, because Daniel had rolled them over, and was kissing him.
thank you to @magicalrocketships for reading this over!!
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year
Note
OMG UR RECENT ZACK LEE WORK IS SO GOOD I NEED MORE PLS AND YES WE LOVE ZACK !!!!! i love the other boys as well but zack hits diff esp bcz he’s one of the first characters introduced 🥹
Ty!! i'm glad you liked the last Zack piece! AGREED he def hits different, part of the OG group, just makes me feel a bit nostalgic for the simpler times. How about some Lookism boys first date HC? Including my faves as well of course
Lookism First Date HC
(Zack, Goo, Gun, Samuel, Jake, Johan - a lengthier Vasco gen + romantic hc here)
Zack Lee
Classic movie and coffee/meal guy (as seen with Mira)
Honestly probably the only guy that would opt for the typical teenage stuff (which isn't a criticism!!)
Will absolutely dress up and style his hair (also as seen with Mira)
But give him absolute and complete free rein? Would LOVE cheesy and domestic shit
Matching outfits, tandem bikes, couples cooking lessons, tour of Seoul so he gets to experience everything with you, farmers market, reenacting home life in IKEA (like 500 days of summer if you've seen it)
Builds up a lot of it in his head but tbh doesn't even care. Just spending time with you? On your own? <3
Would literally want to do anything and everything with you
Goo Kim
Theme/amusement park
Thrill seeking and high-energy to suit this blonde
Tbh a bit too much for a first date as it's an ALL DAY EVENT, but Goo's a bit much anyway
Face paint, character ears, character costumes - he would happily do the whole thing. Think Vasco at Notte World.
A little bit of cash flashing with fast passes and whatever bribery required to get to the front of the queue
Takes a LOT of pictures. More of the mascots and place than you two though
Buying and feeding you all the fun character foods + snacks
Gun Park
Spa. He is so high-end, exclusive, full spa experience
The downtimes we've see him with Goo are surprisingly chill and matches Gun's vibe more than Goo's
Jacuzzis, hot tubs, saunas, steam rooms, massages, manis, pedis - literally anything and everything so you're a puddle at the end of it
Uses it as an opportunity to relax as much as to get to know you
He appreciates a good body, but doesn't check you out as much as you expect and NOWHERE NEAR as much as you eye him up
Keeps his sunglasses on the whole time
Samuel Seo
Tell me this guy wouldn't be out to impress
Completely dressed up, flowers, chauffeur
And there's no way you would be paying for anything at all. He'll even pay for your shopping trip for the date outfit.
Books the most exclusive restaurant in town. Not just that, either opts for a private room or just books the whole place out just for you two
Definitely will involve a helicopter - either to get you A to B, or a night time tour of the city
Will definitely put out on a first date (no judgement). This man exudes sex, let's be honest
Jake Kim
Night time drive and stargazing
Look this might sound sketchy as hell for a first date but it's Jake, he's not a stranger
You already know him but this is your first official date. You both can talk to each other without the chaos of Big Deal and revel in the peace
Super intimate and surprisingly romantic. It's soft and comfortable, he'll be making you laugh a lot
Will take you to a non-sleazy lookout point to look at the stars and maybe share a beer
It's easier for him to be vulnerable with you especially under the cloak of night
Johan Seong
Hiking or picnic or just walking around a park
If this is a first date there is no way that Eden and Miro aren't coming along
The pups might know you already, but this is a big milestone and it needs to involve his babies
Awkward but so endearing. Very skittish. He's not familiar with this sort of situation and blushes a LOT
Absolutely rubbish at small talk or making the first move - you can tell he obviously wants to and likes you though
You best make the first moves unless you want to tiptoe around forever
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spookyspecterino · 7 months
Text
Card Game
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Sam Coe x GN! Reader
GN! Reader. They/Them Pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain once or twice.
Drinking, gambling, a few swear words, kissing, a little PDA
A game of blackjack with Barrett, Andreja, and Sam gets interesting.
Requested by @notyourramona. Thank you for your request I genuinely loved every second of this! 😊
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Cards slap onto the table in front of you.
Barrett’s looking very pleased with himself. “That’s it, I’ve got 19.”
Sam is slow to put his own cards on the table. “Hang on there, friend.” His hand shows 20.
“You’re kidding! Again?” You’re damn near ready to eat your shoe at this point after losing so many times to him.
His grin is devilish. “Afraid so.” He looks to the pile in the middle of the table, some money and other various items are collected there. “Which means…”
“I do not have any more money to give you, Sam.” Andreja grumbles throwing her cards.
It makes Sam chuckle, even as he’s sliding the jackpot over to his side. “Doesn’t have to be money. I’ll take guns, ammo, drinks, the keys to your starship—”
“Uh oh. I see where this is going.” Barrett laughs out.
You’re laughing with him. “Somebody’s in the market for a new ship.”
“Not new.” Sam corrects, “To be more specific, yours, darlin’.”
Your face heats up to a scarlet red. Scoffing, you’re trying to play it off as Barrett giggles and Andreja grins teasingly. A sip of your iced drink isn’t enough to cool you down. “No clue why you’d want mine, you practically live on it already.”
It makes Sam grin even more. Something playful dances in his eyes. “Nothing would really change. You’d just be flying my ship.”
“Oh, I get it. Constant reminders that it belongs to you. Your ship, your rules kinda deal?”
“Something like that.”
Andreja leans over. “Please do not bet your ship, I could not live with the constant remarks he would make.”
“I have no intention of betting my baby.”
“Well then,” Sam starts, shuffling the card deck again, “What are you betting with, Captain?”
Carefully, with all eyes on you, “I bet…a full paid, one month vacation, to Paradiso.”
Everyone’s eyes light up. “Is that so? Small fortune you’re offering there.”
“I’m going to regret this, I know it.”
Sam starts dealing the cards again. “Counteroffer.”
“Go on…”
“Let’s forget money—”
You snort. “Let’s forget money, yeah, right after you run us dry.”
Andreja joins in, crossing her arms. “He forgets he is outnumbered.”
“No, no—” He holds up a hand. “I’m fully aware. My counteroffer is we forget about money and instead, losing hands take shots.” His eyes meet yours, there’s a glint to them.
“Take shots at your head?” Andreja leans in, one hand moving to her hip.
Barrett’s holding his stomach as he laughs. “Andreja, try not to be such a sore loser.”
“I am not a ‘sore loser’!”
You take a sip, still holding Sam’s playful eyes. “I like it. Let’s do it.”
Sam leans back, victorious. “The captain says yes. So, are you two in?”
Barret looks upstairs to Constellation’s bar. “Sure. Why not. I’ll get the shot glasses.”
Andreja snorts. “You are all signing your death warrant. No one can out drink me.”
She joins Barrett as he leaves, mumbling about getting the good liquor. Sam stays busy shuffling cards. “I’m surprised you agreed so quickly, given your tolerance for drinking.”
“If you’re referring to that one time on NEON, I’ve learned my lesson, thank you.”
“Oh, have you now?”
“Yes, and I’m very confident I’ll have my full memory at the end of tonight.”
His voice tilts, teasingly. “We’ll see. I’ve been going easy on you.”
“You’ve been going easy? How is that possible? And how are you so good at blackjack?”
“I was raised in Akila, what do you think we do all day?”
“Fair point.” You lean in, eyes narrowing playfully. “Maybe I’ll step up my game too.”
“You’ve got game now?”
“I’ve always had game!”
“That’s surprising, considering you’ve lost almost—”
You shift, trying to kick his leg under the table. He laughs, skillfully dodging and fighting back. You’re both reduced to kicking and fits of laughter.
Sam catches your leg in between his feet. “How about you come over and sit next to me? Don’t want you falling out of your chair after two shots.”
Your brows pinch, stubbornly. “How about—” you attempt to pull your leg free “—you come over—” He lets your leg go and you fall back, chair legs lifting off the ground. Your hands fly out trying to gain balance. He laughs so hard he almost keels over. You’re laughing and grinning too. “Shut up!”
Andreja and Barrett are back, drinks and glasses in hand. Her usual scowl is in place. “Please get a room, you two.”
“Andreja—” Barrett lightly scolds, as he sets the shot glasses down, “Let them have their fun. Just because your heart is cold and dead—”
“My heart is neither cold nor dead!”
You’re smiling, holding your shot glass out for Sam as he unscrews the liquor cap. “She just needs a stiff drink.”
Sam is grinning, topping off the shots. “She’ll get one. I’m done going easy on you all.”
“Alright, cowboy. Square up.”
. . .
“Jesus Christ, please, no more!” Your head hangs in your hands, insides churning. You’re not even drunk, the liquor just feels like a brick in your stomach. Sam is refilling your shot glass.
“Aww, what happened to all that talk about having game, Captain?” He coos from across the table.
Andreja takes her shot like a champ. “I will volunteer to take the captain’s drink, if—”
Barrett sways as he holds a hand out. “Noopee, that’s not how it works.”
“I might be willing to make an exception.” Sam says, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. Out of the whole night, he’s only taken a few shots.
You sigh in defeat. “Name it.”
“Next round, if you lose, you have to do a dare from the winning hand. Which, will most likely be me.” He adds with a smirk.
“Easy. Bring it. Just don’t make me drink any more of that motor oil.”
Andreja scoffs. “Motor oil? This is one of House Va’ruun’s finest liquors, made from plants grown in complete darkness.”
“Motor oil.” You say in near perfect sync with Sam and Barrett.
The round is played, Sam grins like a fool the whole time, right up until…
“21…”
All eyes turn to Barrett. “Which means I win? Yeah—I win! Ha!” He holds his arms up, face red from the alcohol.
Sam lays his cards out in defeat. Only slightly pouting. “Alright Barrett. Andreja and I will take our shots, and you have to come up with a dare for the captain.”
Barrett doesn’t take long to blurt it out. “I want the captain to give each one of us a kiss.”
Sam chokes, mid shot. Thumping his chest to get it down the rest of the way. Andreja looks at Barrett, horrified, paused with the glass at her lips.
She’s quick to stammer out, “W-well that is up to the captain, if they consent—I would not be opposed to…I mean, it is up to them.”
Barrett turns drunkenly to face you, “Whaddya say, cap?”
A quick glance at Sam, who watches you carefully, and your mind is made up. “Fuck it, let’s go. Come ‘ere, Barrett.”
You lean over holding Barrett’s face in your hands. The man looks more than a little intimidated. At the last second you twist his face to the side and kiss his cheek roughly, smiling and laughing as he giggles and squirms.
Andreja is more relaxed, no doubt thinking she’d get the same treatment, as you turn to face her. Your hands find her shoulders and hold her still. Just as she raises a brow at you, you’re pressing your lips to hers.
It’s relatively quick, only a few seconds long, but as you separate you feel her almost chase after you. She corrects this by clearing her throat and pouring herself a shot.
When you turn to Sam, across the table, he’s wide-eyed.
Getting up from your chair, you’re rounding to his side, slowly, grinning. The look in his eyes gives his feelings away. He’s torn between nervousness and anticipation. Hands gripping his jeans.
Like a cat closing in on a bird, you stalk closer toward him. His chest is rising and falling faster. Standing above him, Sam watches you from his chair.
Putting a hand on the back, you lean in closer. “You ready, cowboy?”
“Whenever you are, darlin’.”
In a rare move of confidence, your hand finds its way to his chin. Gently pulling his face to yours. This wasn’t like kissing Andreja, it was deeper. Slower. You took your time and enjoyed it. Noses nudging together. The soft tickle of his beard on your face. It was heaven.
There was a low whistle from Barrett across the table. You meant to pull away, suddenly aware that others were watching, and you had been kissing maybe a little too long for just a dare, but Sam held you in place with a hand at the back of your neck. He took off his hat and used it as a curtain, giving you two a little privacy as he kept kissing you earnestly. When you giggled, you could feel him smile into the kiss.
Maybe it was a minute. Maybe it was five minutes. But when you noticed the lack of noise from the table, you broke the kiss to look up. Both Andreja and Barrett were gone.
Sam’s gentle, kneading hand made its way to your hip. He pulled slightly, either trying to get your attention or bring you back in. “Looks like the game’s over.”
“So it is.”
He tugs at you a little. “You, uh, wanna take this upstairs—or maybe back to the ship?”
You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, whispering against them, just lightly teasing. “You’re gonna have to work a little harder for that.”
Pulling away, you can feel his fingers grasping at your clothes. A silent plea to stay. “What? What do you—work harder?”
You’re walking off now, grinning. “Oh, you heard me. You’ll have to get more creative than using a dare.”
Sam’s stubborn voice follows you. “Ok, maybe I will. Just wait until I turn the charm on—give you a good smolder.”
“Good luck!”
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