Tumgik
#a quick succession of subjects
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why does this pantone color of the year graphic look like a Disco Elysium skill portrait
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defenestratte · 8 months
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CALL THE COPS AND TELL THEM WHAT I WANT / MY BATTERY'S A HUNDRED PERCENT
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physalian · 1 month
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How To Make Your Writing Less Stiff 6
Part 5
Part 1
Adverbs
Gasp! Oh no. Dare come yet more writing advice burning adverbs at the stake? Vindictively, gleefully, manically dancing in the ashes?
No.
This is not about whether or not you should use them, but their frequency and obvious places to replace them. Most bad adverbs are the common ones that could be replaced by verbs we all know.
“She ran quickly” // “She sprinted”
“He said angrily” // “He snapped” “He chided” “He chastised”
vs.
“He ate voraciously”
“She swayed solemnly”
“She laughed sadly”
Bonus if you can add in some alliteration like ‘swayed solemnly’
If you can come up with an obvious verb to replace your verb + adverb combo, do so. If it would take more words or the closest applicable verb doesn’t hit the same vibe, then leave it. Adverbs should enhance the verb, not be redundant. Verbs shouldn’t be pretentious just to avoid them.
“She smiled happily” — most smiles are happy. Happily is redundant.
“He ran quickly” —a run is, by nature, quick
vs.
“She smiled sourly”
“He ran erratically”
Also!
The adverb need not always be after the verb.
“C accepted gladly” // “C gladly accepted”
But also
“Glad, C accepted”
“A shook their head resolutely” // “Resolute, A shook their head”
“The child skipped excitedly away.” // “Excited, the child skipped away.” // “The child skipped away, excited.”
English is flexible like that.
Which is what I mean with managing your adverb frequency. As most end in the -ly, too many in succession, on top of the repeat syntax of Subject - Verb - Adverb looks boring and dull (and so does beginning every sentence with the subject). It helps with your cadence and flow if you don’t have entire paragraphs at a time all starting with “He [verb]” or “She [verb]” or “They [verb].” We don't speak like this in natural conversation.
But at the end of the day, there are some juicy adverbs that have no equal without busting out the thesaurus for some obscure lexical nugget that no one would understand anyway.
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pastelclovds · 2 months
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thinking about short top x tall bottom relationships
your partner’s friends believe that just because you were two feet shorter than him: that it would obviously mean that you would be the one taking it in the relationship. how could you blame those meatheads when your boyfriend was everything a stereotypical dominant man was ���supposed” to be. muscles that could be compared to Greek gods, good looks, possessing a constant stern and confident attitude, and he had a successful career that made him good money.
your lover didn’t try to deny the accusations. probably too embarrassed to admit the truth. you had to hide your smirk when you saw your bf trying desperately to change the subject. looking tense and flustered as his gaze shifted from his hands to you to his friends. it wasn’t until you dropped his friends off and were now alone with him in your car that his mask finally cracked. before he could say a word, you place the palm of your hand on top of his shaking leg. dangerously close to his clothed pelvis. his breathe hitched when he meet your eyes. they were smug and hungry.
at that moment he knew it didn’t matter what excuses he spewed out. you were going to show him who was really in charge. he couldn’t help blood rushing south as his mind started fantasizing about what you were planning for him.
you grin devilishly when you catch sight of his cock straining against his dress pants. oh you were going to have so much fun breaking him.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
“oh! oh yeah— fuck! faster please please!”
you’ve seen many beautiful things in your life. but the sight of your lover presenting his bare ass for you to rail as he sobbed out your name like a prayer definitely topped them all. he let out choked moans when your cock continuously hits his prostate. his grip on the pillows rival that of a vice as his tears wet the covers. he thrusts back against your cock to the best of his ability as the bruising grip you had on his waist prevented him from moving the lower half of his body. forcing him to stay still and take it.
you let out a shaky breath as you gazed down at the so called ‘master in the sheets’. now a pathetic, beautiful mess as his tight hole took you in. just the sight of his tear stained face and velvety ass was enough to almost make you spill inside him. you increase the pace of your hips. your sweat slicked balls slapping against your lover’s ass as the volume of his moans and cries increased. the clap of your bf’s ass meeting your pelvis filled you with pride as you couldn’t resist the temptation of slapping his cheek. his hole tightened significantly around you.
“haha. guess your friends were wrong about you, lovely. was this what you wanted? embarres me so i can show you who you really belonged to? hmm?” you lower your torso as you teased him by slowly grinding against his sweet spot. he raised his head to look up at you.
“i’m yours. always make me feel good. go faster again please. i’m close, ‘m sorry— ah!”
your pace returns to rough and quick as soon as the words left his pretty mouth. “good boy- hah- cum for me,” you breathlessly command him. he followed your orders instantly, biting his pillow cover to muffle his pathetic sob as his cock spilled white on the sheets.
his climax triggered yours, you sigh as you fill him with warmth. you knew that this wasn’t going to be the last round, so you rest on top of your lover’s back until he gave you the ‘okay’ to continue. you could feel his chest rise and fall as he tries to catch his breath. if you weren’t paying attention intensely, you would’ve missed the breathless “i love you” he told you.
you cover his sweat coated back in soft kisses, you couldn’t even reach his neck, “i love you too, gorgeous,” you whisper back. you bite back a groan when he started grinding against your cock, signaling that he was ready for round two.
you loved destroying stereotypes.
ur fav tall af characters <3
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koqabear · 1 year
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Attention
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♫: 5 STAR, CL
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“Yeonjun thinks there’s nothing better than to wind down after a show with his pretty girlfriend— Beomgyu also thinks there’s nothing better than winding down after a show with Yeonjun’s pretty girlfriend.”
yeonjun x fem!reader x beomgyu
Genre: rockstar!au, smut, pwp, established relationship w/jjun 
Word count: 5.8K
warnings: mc has acrylics. that’s it. 
smut warnings: hard/mean doms! yeongyu, sub!mc, threesome, strength kink(?), scratching, pet names (baby, good girl, etc.), name calling, dry humping, spanking, breast play, manhandling, degrading, fingering, oral (f&m rec.), choking, marking, biting, hair pulling, mirror sex, dumbification, slight brat taming?, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, unprotected sex, size kink, bulge kink, rough sex, creampies, mentions of safe word, facial, sloppy seconds, slapping, spitting, lmk if i missed anything 🤗
Notes: i’ve recommended every genre but rock for this.. final part of rockstar!txt, and my personal favorite; this was still barely edited—enjoy tho bc i definitely branched out quite a bit here >w<
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Your legs feel shaky as you make your way away from the stage— whether it’s from adrenaline or anticipation for what’s to come, you’re not really sure. 
Another successful show has gone by with you in barricade; pushed up against the barrier by other eager, sweaty bodies, forced to endure another intense show in favor of watching your boyfriend perform— there’s a strange sense of satisfaction that you get from it, watching the way they all crowd around you and try to take your spot, hands reaching out desperately for even a brief touch from him. 
The most they’ll ever get from him is a brush of his fingers against theirs— but even that is enough to have them screaming in your ear, jumping eagerly as they don’t stop to realize why Yeonjun might be so eager to hog the section they’re currently in. 
You’re fully aware; maybe it’s because he’s always quick to spot you during his shows, sending you a wink before he’s striding over— subjecting you to a few hours of flirty and suggestive behavior, able to drink in the way your doe eyes look up at him with every thrust of his hips or growl of his voice— and if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve almost missed the quirk of his lips as he drank in your reaction desperately.
Your body felt a bit more buzzed than usual— maybe it’s because you were subjected to the absolute torture that was Yeonjun purposefully teasing you, completely ignoring you and sticking to the side opposite yours in favor of teasing and interacting with other faceless fans— you still remember the way your jaw dropped as you watch him reach out to a fan, holding her hand and winking playfully as he clearly mouthed a ‘call me’ to her.
Luckily for you however, you were quickly distracted by a different sight— meaning, Beomgyu and the way he very obviously seemed to stare you down every chance he got; where Yeonjun began to lack, he quickly took charge, lingering by your side and even taking a moment to go along with the way you reached out to him playfully, allowing him to hold your hand as he sang his part directly to you; you could feel deathly stares from both the fans around you and Yeonjun after that.
So now, here you are; one elaborate firework show later and the fans finally began to disperse and the crowded pit finally began to empty— leaving you, alone and antsy as you began to make your way backstage, where you knew a staff car was waiting to take you to the hotel Yeonjun was currently staying in.
Your leg is bouncing the entire ride there— fans outside seem to think the van you’re in may contain a member of the infamous band, and you watch with a small smile as they line the sidewalks and wave cluelessly; for a moment, you almost feel bad. 
You’re at the back entrance in the blink of an eye; that could also be attributed to the fact that you may have dozed off on your way there, but you don’t really mind it as you find yourself much more energized as you make your way out the van, thanking your driver before you’re off. 
Room 705, you tell yourself, pressing the number seven on the elevator as you lean back on the railing— you let out a soft, exasperated sigh as you make your way up, feeling the nerves from before creep up on you the longer you wait in this eerie silence— you’re practically running the moment the doors open, eager to see your boyfriend as you feel a wide smile form on your face. 
A moment passes after you knock on the door. 705, you reassure yourself, glancing back at the room number as you rock on your heels, waiting impatiently for someone to answer. Just when you begin to wonder if you’ve got the room wrong, pulling out your phone to check your messages with Yeonjun, the door suddenly swings open.
And you’re immediately pulled in. 
If the air hadn’t been knocked out of your lungs as Yeonjun pushed you roughly against the door, the way he captures your lips in a needy kiss definitely did. Your mind is spinning and you’re barely able to process what’s happening as you moan into his lips, feeling his hands wander up and down your sides, shivering at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin. 
You’re left to place your hands helplessly on his chest— you don’t bother to push him away though, indulging instead in the way his firm muscles tense under your hands, the thin material of his tank top not leaving much room for the imagination as you let your nails scratch and grasp at the material. 
He’s clearly reluctant to pull away as you begin to pat at his chest, attempting to signal your lack of air as he finally obliges after a second of struggle— you’re panting and dizzy as you take in the way his lips are swollen and shiny, his eyes lidded and dark as he takes in your outfit with a breathy chuckle. 
“Seriously?” he asks, reaching up to play with the hem of the shirt that barely covers you, the words “I ♡ TXT” written across them boldly, “You couldn’t have gotten one of those I heart my boyfriend shirts with a little picture of me? I saw a ton of fans wear those today.”
You scoff. 
“I dunno, I think this is more eye-catching— especially because it means that I don’t have to rely on getting the attention of just one of you.”
“Ohhhh, is that right?” he asks, tilting his head innocently as he wraps a hand around your waist, a cute smile on his face as he begins to walk backward to lead you further into his room, “Is that what your little attitude was about back then? Did I neglect you, baby?”
You pout. You hate when Yeonjun gets like this, teasing and petulant as he tries to back you up into a corner, trying to get you to say the wrong thing and set you straight by fucking you until you can’t think— it makes you feel undeniably small before him.
“Well, you did ignore me during the second half of the concert,” you admit, and you try to take a step back from him only to get pulled back in, your view obscured by him, “Seriously, you didn’t even come to our side.”
“You felt ignored?” he pouts, cooing softly at the way you meekly nod in agreement, “But Beomgyu didn’t ignore you. Isn’t that right?”
“Yup. Made sure to take good care of her.”
It’s only then Yeonjun lets go of you— he’s behind you now, interlocking his hands over your navel and pulling you back against him as he slots his chin on your shoulder— your stomach drops, and you’re able to feel the way Yeonjun presses against you perfectly from behind. 
Beomgyu lays back against the headboard, looking up from his phone as he sends you a pretty smile and a wave. 
“Shit baby, when did you get this skirt? It barely covers you.” you’re blinking out of your stupor as you feel Yeonjun grinding against you, your body beginning to rock from the motion as you grab onto his forearms weakly— you’re startled, unable to help your weak whimper as you take in the way Beomgyu stares at you with hungry eyes. 
And Yeonjun’s absolutely right— the pleated skirt is so short that it’s already ridden up, and you can feel your eyes hazing at the way he grinds his cock against your ass, against your panties that are already beginning to become soaked and sticky from your arousal. 
“You know, I saw the way you were so eager to interact with gyu once I left,” he purrs into your ear, punctuating his words with a harsh thrust that has you bouncing and yelping weakly, “Have I been neglecting you that much, cutie? Am I not enough for you?”
“No, no no no,” you babble, already too stupid to make coherent sentences despite having yet been fucked, “Saw you flirting with fans, I just… wanted to get back at you, ugh—!”
Your mouth is falling open at the feeling of Yeonjun’s hand falling sharply on your skin— your ass stings from the sensation and your back arches in response, and Yeonjun’s free hand snakes its way up to grope your chest, pressing you back against him and spanking you again as he laughs darkly in your ear.
“Get back at me? You know I was just doing my job, right?” he’s mocking you— it’s mean and belittling as he rubs the stinging area for a second before landing another smack— hmm? he hums, egging on your response as his hand squeezes your breast warningly.
“You still ignored me,” you whine out, clearly not the answer Yeonjun wanted as he scoffs and undoubtedly rolls his eyes; he lets go of you, and you let out a soft yelp at the way he pushes you toward the bed— you stumble and fall face-first into it, bouncing on the mattress before you’re looking up in a daze— you’re meeting Beomgyu’s wicked smile the moment you come to your senses. 
“Okay baby, if that’s how you wanna play. You really seemed to enjoy Beomgyu’s attention today, how about you get some more?” You’re not sure what he may mean by that until you’re being moved; you’re seated in Yeonjun’s lap on the bed, a pained whimper ripped out of your throat from the way he tugs your hair and pulls your head back— you’re staring at the ceiling as you feel your legs get thrown over Yeonjun’s, left to his mercy as he spreads you open completely. 
“Fuck. Such an attention whore, aren’t you? How are you so wet already?” his tone is so, so mean and mocking as he rubs a hand over your panties, two fingers pressing down against your entrance as he watches the way your folds spill out from the action, hissing quietly before he’s laughing softly, “Did a little bit of grinding do all this to you? Or…”
He leans into your ear— he places a kiss behind it before his teeth begin to nibble at the flesh, laughing airily as his hands begin to rub up and down your trembling thighs. 
“Were you thinking of getting fucked the whole show?”
Your lips fall into a silent gasp— Beomgyu’s lips are leaving open-mouthed kisses at the inside of your knees, his soft hair brushing against your skin as you attempt to look down at him— only to squeeze your eyes shut, Yeonjun’s long and slender fingers coming up to press down on your throat and hold your head up as he prevents you from looking, adding more pressure as he takes in the way you squirm from his grip.
Your hands are gripping your skirt. It’s bunched between your fingers as you attempt to close your legs, only to be stopped by Yeonjun’s as he continues to hold you open— in response, he spreads his legs a bit more, indulging in the pained whimper you let out from the stretch. 
Beomgyu’s lips are inching up your thigh. He’s sucking and leaving marks, teeth teasingly sinking into the flesh as he takes in the way you jump and whine at the feeling— your eyes are screwed shut, and all you can hear is Beomgyu’s breathy laugh before he continues to make his way up. 
Beomgyu is nothing but cruel as he continues to tease you; you think you might begin crying as you feel his lips begin to kiss softly at your clit, the feeling barely there as you begin to whine petulantly.
“Don’t be like that,” Yeonjun scolds, taking the way you’re practically trembling, “Shouldn’t you be thankful Beomgyu’s here to give you some attention? If you keep this up, I’ll just make you fuck against a pillow and leave you here while I go out for drinks with the others. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
You can feel Yeonjun smile against your jaw as you frantically shake your head no. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek in return. 
“Good girl. Now be patient, okay?”
God, how can you be patient when Beomgyu is still teasing you over your panties? They’re soaking and you feel pathetic as he continues to toy with you with his tongue, clearly eager to make you messier than you already are as his spit continues to soak the rest of your panties through— the whine you let out once he presses his tongue flat against your entrance is pathetic, but you don’t have any energy to feel embarrassed from it as he begins to press against your panties in an attempt to fuck you with his tongue.
You don’t know how long this goes on for— all you know is that you’re shaking and you feel your eyes sting with tears by the time his fingers begin ghosting along your thighs, his soft groans and sounds that come from below only leaving you more needy by the time his fingers finally hook under the waistband of your panties. 
Your hips lift eagerly as he slides them down, and you don’t bother to take their teasing comments seriously as you blindly buck your hips toward Beomgyu’s face instead. 
“What’s got you acting like this?” Yeonjun asks, his voice deep and gruff as he speaks in your ear, “Don’t tell me a little bit of teasing is what’s got you like this.”
A little bit of teasing is a severe understatement. You’re trembling over Yeonjun and your voice is breaking as you protest quietly— and if your boyfriend thinks you haven’t felt the way he’s been bucking and rutting his hips into you this whole time, he’s sorely mistaken. 
All your spite melts away the moment Beomgyu gets his mouth on you— you’re jolting in surprise at the feeling of his face pressed flush against you, his tongue entering you with ease as he begins to fuck you with it like you desperately wanted; his nose is brushing against your clit and your hands blindly go to tug at his hair in a weak attempt to pull him closer still, entirely shameless of the way your hips grind into his face to chase pleasure— the way he groans and hums against you only makes your head spin, tugging at his roots weakly in an attempt to distract yourself.
Yeonjun’s hand presses against your throat— the pressure has you going dizzy, and you don’t seem to realize that he’s tilted your head back down until he’s squeezing teasingly, growling in your ear to look.
Slowly, your eyes flutter open. 
“Gyu…”
The said man’s eyes flicker up to gauge your expression— only he finds that you’re not looking at him, but rather behind him— in other words, straight at the full-length mirror you sit in front of, hazed eyes taking in the sight of you on your boyfriend’s lap, his hand on your throat and the other pushing up your crop top to play with your breasts, followed by the sight of Beomgyu kneeled between your spread legs, his head neatly tucked under the skirt you wear as he diligently goes back to eating you out like a starved man.
Your mind has gone dumb from the stimulation— so much so that you were barely able to keep track of the hands on your body, your chest jutting out from the way Yeonjun plays with your nipples and your thighs shaking from the way Beomgyu massages them teasingly. You think you might just receive a noise complaint from the way you can barely keep your sounds down, your hips beginning to roll against Beomgyu’s face as you feel your orgasm beginning to approach. 
“So fucking loud,” Yeonjun growls, his hand leaving your tits before he’s putting two of his fingers into your mouth— and like the “good bitch” you are, you take them without hesitation, your lips sucking on them while your tongue runs along his fingers diligently. 
It does little to muffle your sounds, however. You can’t take your eyes off the sight in front of you, incredibly needy as you begin to push Beomgyu against you and practically suffocate him with your pussy— but, judging by the way he groans in response and moves his head side to side before pressing firmly against your cunt, you don’t think he minds it.
“Is he making you feel good? Yeah?” Yeonjun asks, cutting off your frantic nodding before he’s shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue— your mouth is left open and you can only watch helplessly as drool begins to gather at the corner of your lips, your hips jumping up at the way Beomgyu’s tongue toys with your clit before he’s back to fucking you— the way you react to the action has him repeating it, and it isn’t long before you’re letting out a long whine and cumming all over his face. 
“Good girl. Fuck that’s so hot, that’s right, ride it out…” Yeonjun’s hand leaves your neck in favor of gripping your hips and guiding your movements, grinning wolfishly at the way you simply cry softly and wrap your lips around his fingers in response, a stray tear running down your cheek as your mouth falls open weakly once more, beginning to melt from the way Beomgyu has yet to pull away, feverish mouth still on your cunt as he begins to clean you up despite your weak cries of overstimulation. 
Beomgyu’s face is shining from your arousal by the time he finally pulls away. He’s sitting back on his knees and looking up at you with puppy eyes as he pouts, swollen lips reddened as he takes in the way your pussy still glistens from your arousal and his spit, your body twitching from the aftershocks as you merely whine once your eyes meet. 
“Felt good baby?” Yeonjun asks you, letting you go before he’s laying you back on the bed— you’re reaching out for him, grabbing his shirt and tugging him back to you in a weak attempt to get him on top of you, only to fail miserably— he chuckles softly before his hands come up, encasing your own before he’s pulling them off; his gaze darkens. 
“Show me just how much you liked gyu’s attention, yeah?” he asks, and you watch with wide eyes as he begins to step away, ignoring your weak attempts to get him to come back before he’s getting comfortable on a chair across the bed; squeezing your legs together, you’re left helpless as you watch Beomgyu rise to his feet and begin to hover over you instead. 
“Don’t you wanna be good for him?” Beomgyu asks, placing a tentative hand on your waist and watching as you shiver from the sensation, “For us? Hmm?”
The pathetic whine you let out in response is enough for him, watching as you shyly reach up to grab at his shirt before you’re pulling him towards you. 
Beomgyu’s hands are big and warm as he places them on your thighs, sneaking to the underside and pushing them against you as he begins to spread you properly— you’re left folded and at his mercy as you simply look at him with curious eyes, fingers splayed neatly on your chest as you begin to play with your breasts absentmindedly. 
You’re shameless as you watch Beomgyu take his cock out— even more so when you begin to squirm, eyes widening slightly just from the mere sight; god, he’s huge. 
“What’s with the reaction baby?” Yeonjun calls out, and you’re snapped out of your daze as you look at where your boyfriend sits, slouched in the chair and palming himself casually as he watches, “Something on your mind?”
You shake your head no— but as Beomgyu slowly aligns himself with your entrance, leaking tip beginning to glide along your cunt as he spreads your arousals, you can’t hold back the shaky whimper you let out, your voice breaking from the sound as you grasp at the sheets under you. 
He’s big— just like your boyfriend, who always has to take his time prepping you before he finally fucks you; the only difference here, however, is that Beomgyu has never fucked you before, so he certainly won’t be aware of the struggle he’ll be met with as his tip finally begins to prod at your entrance, testing out the waters before he finally pulls out again. 
Yeonjun, however, is fully aware of this fact.
Maybe that’s why you take in the way his lips quirk up in a mischievous smile as Beomgyu finally begins to enter you— hissing at the stretch, going insanely slow due to the way you clench down on him like a vice, the feeling enough to make him cum if he’s not too careful. 
You’re a trembling and squirming mess under him— your eyes are screwed shut when he grabs onto your hips, telling you to stop fucking moving as the sheer strength of his hold is enough to have you freezing. 
“Shit, such a cute little thing, always begging for attention— don’t even care that it’s not your boyfriend fucking you, huh?”
God, this is so embarrassing— especially with the way you practically melt at Beomgyu’s touch, weak whimpers flowing from you the moment you feel him bottom out, hips pressed flush against yours as he simply… remains still. Clenching around him pathetically, all shame is thrown out the window as you begin to attempt fucking yourself on his cock, trying to get any stimulation you can before his fingertips are digging into your skin— a clear warning to fucking sit still, as he growls out. 
Slowly, he pulls out; you can feel every vein that runs along his length from how slow he goes, your walls fluttering in a desperate attempt to keep him inside as you let out a soft whine— he quickly rams into you after that, ripping a shameless moan from you and making your body jostle back against the mattress, only to get pulled back into him by his hands. 
He’s able to build his pace that way— your body is his to control as he begins fucking you, rutting into you wildly as he takes in the way your eyes glaze with pleasure, weak cries and moans escaping your mouth as he simply smiles down at you coyly.
“Beomgyu,” you hear Yeonjun say, though you don’t have the strength to look over at him as you watch Beomgyu turn his head over, his thrusts slowing to something deep and slow as the two seemingly converse— you’re unable to hear what your boyfriend says, but you know he’s up to no good as you pick up on his last words.
“Do it, you’ll see how much she likes it.”
Before you can question what he could possibly mean by that, a choked cry is leaving you; Beomgyu has returned his rough pace of fucking you, your words dying on your tongue as you’re left to pant and moan pathetically— your back arches off the bed the moment you feel his hand fall on your stomach, pressing down on the bulge of his cock inside you and watching the way you bite your lip in a failed attempt to conceal the squeal he rips out of you; the pressure of his hand makes you tighten around him more, and the laugh he lets out would be enough to embarrass you if you weren’t so fucked out. 
“Like feeling me? Am I too big for you, sweet thing?” he asks, whiny and attempting to mimic your tone as he sends you a pathetic pout, no doubt a reflection of your expression, “Can you feel me, baby? Feels good?”
Your eyes roll back the moment he brings your hand over to press on the bulge yourself; you’re letting out a soft fuck that has the two men chuckling, only able to come to your senses long enough to see that Yeonjun has begun to stroke himself where he sits, dark gaze never leaving your body as he watches everything with interest. 
Yeonjun is mumbling something again— it makes your heart race that you’re unable to pick up on it, much more focused on the way Beomgyu continues to fuck you to be able to pay attention to the conversation the two are having; before you can take any offense to it, Beomgyu is pulling out, the two of you hissing from the suddenness of it all before he’s guiding you to move. 
“You look so pretty like this.”
Yeonjun’s smile is warm as he meets your gaze— though you’re unable to see it for much longer, your head being pushed into the mattress as Beomgyu raises your hips a little more, landing a slap to your ass before he’s thrusting into you fully in one go— you think that if your face hadn’t been buried in the sheets, you definitely would’ve been scolded for being so loud. 
This position allows Beomgyu to fuck into you a little rougher; something Yeonjun told him you just go crazy for, and he knows it must be true if the way your walls flutter and suck him in are any sign, the feeling making it harder for him to not dump his load inside you then and there. 
“Pull her hair,” Yeonjun grins, watching as you nuzzle your face into the mattress for comfort, “She loves when you do that— isn’t that right, baby?”
Beomgyu doesn’t need to be told twice; he’s grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging you hard enough that you’re being pulled up, pressed flush against his chest as Beomgyu’s hand snakes around your waist and circles your clit— if it weren’t for his arms that held you up against him, you’re sure you would’ve collapsed back down from the sheer pleasure.
His hand lets go of your hair in favor to wrap around your neck; his index finger taps at your cheek as he begins to put a slight pressure, watching as you become lightheaded and struggle to open your eyes upon his request. 
“Don’t you want your boyfriend to see how good you’re getting fucked?” 
His words shouldn’t spur you on as much as they do— but the way Beomgyu continues to spew absolute filth in your ears paired with the way Yeonjun stares at you as though he’s ready to pounce on you any second has you nearing yet another orgasm— and judging by the way Beomgyu hisses into your ear, you’re sure he notices it.
“Shit, such a greedy thing, so desperate to get fucked that you don’t care who it is, hmm?” Beomgyu says, laughing softly at the way you begin to squirm from his grip, “Feel good? Gonna cum on my cock? Hmm? Don’t even feel guilty that your boyfriend is watching you get fucked so good, just wanna get used, isn’t that right?”
You’re barely able to keep track of the shit Beomgyu is saying— all you know is that you’re intoxicated with the way his voice sounds, strained and shaky as his broken moans interrupt his sentences, the sound of skin against skin overwhelming your senses as you finally come down— your eyes are shutting tight as you feel yourself go weak, falling limp under Beomgyu’s hold before he lets you go entirely— and you’re falling back into the mattress, grabbing desperately at the sheets in a weak attempt to ground yourself. 
The sudden rush of blood to your head only amplifies everything as Beomgyu lets you ride out your orgasm; he’s rough and unrelenting as he chases his own high, reassuring you quietly that he’s almost there, just a bit more, be a good girl and take it, okay?
It doesn’t take long before Beomgyu’s pace is stuttering, his hands gripping your waist and using you as a fucktoy as he begins groaning that he’s close. 
“Want me to cum inside?” he asks, his voice breathy and dazed as he watches the way you simply whine and nod your head, “Yeah? Dump my load and fill you up like a good cumslut? Love letting me use you how I’d like?”
A weak yes! yesyesyes! is all that leaves you before he’s burying himself as deep as he can and cumming inside you; you feel so warm and full as you feel him spurt his cum inside you, whining quietly and nuzzling more into the blankets as you let him ride his orgasm out.
A moment passes— he has yet to pull out.
“So?” Yeonjun asks, a lot closer than you expected as he suddenly takes your hair and forces you up, ignoring your weak protests with a roll of his eyes, “What do you think baby? You want more of his attention, or are you finally gonna apologize for being such a fucking bitch to me?”
You let out a noncommittal whine— Yeonjun’s brow quirks in interest, but he simply looks back at Beomgyu with a soft smile. 
“Think you can dump another load in her?”
Beomgyu’s cock is already hardening inside you— the whine you let out is left in vain as Yeonjun simply directs his hardened cock to your lips, tapping his leaking tip against them as he begins to spread his arousal along them, smiling wickedly as you send him a pleading smile. 
“You know how this works, doll,” he hums out, smacking his dick on your lips with a soft laugh, “You know the safe words; you say it and everything stops— so stop acting like a helpless bitch.”
Softly, his hand taps your cheek.
“Now open up, won’t you?”
You’re obedient as always as you do what he says immediately. Your eyes are watery as you allow him to use your mouth just how he likes, the vibrations of your moans from the way Beomgyu continues to fuck you making Yeonjun pathetically bite his lips to conceal his sounds— of course, it doesn’t work, and all he’s left with in the end are swollen and reddened lips you’re fighting the urge to kiss. 
By the time Beomgyu is cumming inside you again, Yeonjun is above you groaning that he’s close; you’re whimpering at the feeling of being filled a second time tonight as Yeonjun takes his cock out and furrows his brows in concentration, taking in your fucked out face before he spills his load all over you; your eyes close as you feel the spurts of cum land on your lips, cheeks, and shirt, over the bold I ♡ TXT  as Yeonjun only smiles with pride; you’re whimpering pathetically as Yeonjun proceeds to use his sensitive tip to spread his release across your lips, hissing quietly as your tongue darts out to lick it teasingly. 
“Yeonjun,” you whimper out, looking up at your boyfriend with eyes that almost make his knees buckle, “Still need you. Want you inside me.”
He grins— how could he deny such a request?
In the blink eye, you’ve changed positions, now lying on your back— Beomgyu is no longer inside you, sending you a wolfish grin as he places one last kiss on your head, patting your thigh slyly before he’s sending you off to Yeonjun; after all your teasing and subjecting himself to watch for so long, Yeonjun can feel his refractory period turn to ashes the moment he finally slides himself inside you, your thighs dripping with Beomgyu’s cum as more comes out the moment Yeonjun bottoms out. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, moving slowly before he’s forced to stop from the feeling of you clenching around him, “How are you still so tight? Did you miss me that much, pretty?”
Without a second thought, you nod— Yeonjun simply laughs at that, beginning to move slowly and watching the way your face contorts in pleasure before he’s glancing back to the chair he sat in, making eye contact with Beomgyu as he sends him a grin. 
“You know, she really likes it when you do this,” he says, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders as he begins to fuck you roughly; you’re yelping and crying from the overstimulation, highly sensitive as hot tears begin escaping your eyes, “Don’t you, baby? Feel good right now?”
“Too— too much, jjunie,” you hiccup, though the way your pussy tightens around him says otherwise, your hands are desperate to grab onto something as you hold onto your skirt, crumpling the fabric in your hands as you allow Yeonjun to pull your shirt up, feeling the way his expert fingers play with your breasts and tug at your nipples, the movement almost memorized at this point.
“Too much?” he coos, not slowing his pace for a second as he watches you nod, taking in your teary eyes hungrily, “Want it to stop? Gonna say the safe word?”
You don’t respond. 
“‘Course you won’t,” he hums, slapping you softly and huffing out a laugh at the way his cum has begun to dry on your face, the feeling filthy as you simply whine, his hand cupping your face and squeezing your cheeks until your lips are forced in an open pout; he leans in, his hair brushing against your forehead as he continues to fuck you. 
“You love being used as a cumdump too much to say it, don’t you?”
Without a further warning, his index finger tugs at your lower lip, forcing your mouth open a little more— then, he spits. 
You come undone shortly after.
Yeonjun’s pace doesn’t slow down throughout any of it; not when you squeeze him so tight your cunt is practically choking his dick, not when you begin squirming and crying under him, and certainly not when he feels his own high approaching, only fueled even more when your pretty acrylics come up to dig at his shoulder, letting out a loud cry as he hits a particularly sensitive spot and scratching along his back, the stinging sensation enough to set Yeonjun off as he cums inside you— he sits back and watches as even more cum leaks out, your body already exhausted beyond relief as you simply let your eyes close and your chest heaves as you catch your breath. 
Yeonjun is rubbing your thighs soothingly, waiting for your eyes to flutter open again before he begins to speak. 
“Was that enough attention for you?” he asks— he’s hovering over you again, a mischievous smile growing on his face as he looks down at you and the mess he’s made, “I think you deserve a bit more.”
Fuck Yeonjun and his petty grudges. 
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inky-duchess · 1 year
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Fantasy Guide to Wards and Fostering
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I get a lot of asks about wards and recently it's been a FAQ. So here's a quick guide to warding.
What is Warding?
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Warding was a tradition in which a noble it royal family would take in a child from another family to their home for the purpose of educating them and preparing them for adulthood or to protect their interests. Warding was seen as a big compliment to the family of the foster child, especially if the family that fosters their child is much higher ranking. However, warding could also be in response to the family's misbehavior and insubordination or in some cases their death. Warding isn't adoption. Warding does not entitle the child to inherit anything. They cannot inherit a place in the succession, they cannot inherit lands or money or titles.
The Ward
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The ward was usually a child of a lower ranking family, between the ages of seven to maturity at 16 or so. Wards usually had parents in which case the foster family was charged with the child's physical and educational welfare. The ward could return to their parents at any time either at their insistence or with the blessing of their foster family. Wards were raised alongside the host family's children as well as other wards. They were fed, clothed and educated by their foster family as essentially treated as part of the family. However, wards that come from unfriendly or rebellious families were essentially used as chips for good behaviour. If their parents or kin act up, they could be killed. Wards could also be orphaned. In this case, their foster father would have control their lands and money which is why an overlord would seek to claim warship over a vassal heir to ensure peace. Wards could also be adopted by family.
The Foster Family
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The family were nearly always higher ranking and usually had another motive other than charity for taking in the ward. Sometimes the child could be used as collateral against an untrustworthy family or sometimes they were prospective spouses for the family's heirs. It was the responsibility of the foster family to discipline, educate and protect the ward. They would be charged with teaching the ward all the trappings of their position from warfare to statecraft to etiquette.
Wards to Royal families
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In some cases, a ward might strike gold and be warded at court by the monarch. Wards would live at court but would be unlikely to be taught the skills by the monarch or Consort personally but would be provided with the best tutors. Wards could be brought in to be companions to the Royal children or in order to ensure their inheritances were not subjected to disputes if they were orphans or again, if their family were likely to commit trouble. Royal wards were always nobility but in some rare and extreme cases they could also be total themselves, usually of displaced and exiled families or as prospective matches to royal children.
Wardship & Women
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In some cases, an unmarried woman or a widow could be placed in the protection of an overlord or male relative in order to protective her interests. If a woman was the heir to a grand title or vast fortune and had no father or brother, the monarch or overlord would insist that a male relative or her overlord would take her in lest her claim put her in danger. Usually, it would be up to their host to arrange a match or aid her in brokering one herself.
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starkidmunson · 9 months
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damned if i do (give a damn what people say)
It seems Steve Harrington is back off the market
The latest news on the pop star’s love life comes mere weeks after word of a fallout with longtime beau, journalist Nancy Wheeler. While neither party has confirmed the rumors, many of Harrington’s closest friends have hinted at the end of the relationship in interviews and on social media.
One thing everyone failed to mention, however, is that Harrington appears to have moved on and is now dating Corroded Coffin front-man, Eddie Munson.
The two have been friends for years, tracing as far back as the early 2010s, though it’s difficult to put a pin in exactly when they met. Neither are particularly vocal about their personal lives and often change the subject when the other comes up in an interview; a diversion tactic they’ve been playing for years.
Still, the alleged new couple has been spotted around some of Harrington’s favorite Manhattan hot spots several times over the past week.
The rockstar has a bit of an edgier vibe than Harrington’s usual flings; more outspoken and unpredictable than the ‘type’ Steve has typically shown an interest in; at least publicly.
Only time will tell if “Steddie” (so dubbed by the fans in support of the relationship) is true… and if they’ll last.
_____
“I can’t believe they think I’m dating Eddie,” Steve grumbled into the pillow on the floor of his hotel room. With a huff, he turned his head and looked off to the wall on the far side of the room. “I mean, it’s crazy that I can’t go out to dinner with anyone besides you and not be on a date.”
Robin leveled her foot to the center of his back, before shifting her weight onto it, then grinned in satisfaction as Steve groaned and his back popped loudly in several places. “It’s not like it’s that surprising. The tabloids went feral over you and Nancy breaking up after they were convinced you guys were already secretly married.” She shifted her weight back off him, dropping to sit cross-legged beside Steve. “Plus, it’s not that much of a stretch.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, pushing himself up until he was sitting with his back against the wall, leg stretched out against Robin’s.
“It means you two have never looked at each other the way friends do. It makes sense that they’re picking that up.” Robin shrugged, brushing off her comment like it wasn’t shattering part of Steve’s bubble.
“We look at each other totally normally!”
The look Robin leveled Steve with had him pushing himself up off the floor and making his way toward the bathroom.
“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to start getting ready, but we don’t do anything normal friends wouldn’t because that’s what we are, Robin!”
“Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me?” Robin asked and sighed heavily when Steve slammed the bathroom door closed in response.
It was only about five minutes before there was a familiar knock at the door; three in quick succession, followed by two after a short pause.
“I think we need to talk, sweetheart,” was understandable, despite being muffled by the door, before Steve was racing out of the bathroom to beat Robin to undoing the locks and letting Eddie in. “Why didn’t you tell me we’re dating?” Eddie asked through a pout, leaned against the doorframe.
Steve rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, letting Eddie follow him inside, before pointing at Robin. “See! Very much not dating!”
“Well,” Eddie started, teasingly, only to get hit in the face with a pillow from Steve’s bed. “I’m kidding, Steve. It’s not even a bad thing. I mean, they’re actually being really fucking cool about you being bisexual.”
“Being out as bi doesn’t mean that every person, regardless of their gender, is automatically my love interest just because I breathed near them.” Steve snapped, obviously frustrated despite Eddie’s attempts to ease the situation.
“Hey. Don’t get mean. You know what’s not what Eddie meant.” Robin responded. Steve looked back and forth between the two of them for a long moment, before he collapsed, face first, onto his mattress with a loud groan.
“C’mon, there’s no need to meltdown over this. If you want me to, I can post something about catching up with old friends to try to make it go away.” Eddie offered, gently, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed from Steve.
It took a long beat, but Steve eventually lifted his head from his pillows and shrugged. “I don’t want to make you do anything like that. It’s fine. It’ll all work out in the end. I'm just having a weird day, I guess.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, and when Steve didn’t elaborate, he turned his head to Robin, who shrugged.
“Nancy texted him this morning asking to not talk about her at shows and he’s been in a sour mood about it since.”
“Robin!” Steve groaned, pressing his face back into his pillow miserably.
“Have you been, though?” Eddie asked, confused. “Talking about her, I mean? I thought I was doing a decent job at getting the highlights and I have no memory of you dropping anything profound about you and Nance on any crowds.”
“Not directly,” Steve spoke into his pillow, before turning his head and staring at the wall as he answered. “I made a few comments about my songs. How to get someone back. How to gaslight someone into thinking you love them before letting everything go at the drop of a hat for one of your best friends.”
A silence settled over the room for a moment, before Eddie burst into giggles, which set Robin off. Eventually Steve joined in, turning his attention to the two of them with a heavy sigh.
“I guess I was an asshole about it, huh?”
“I think it’s justifiable.” Eddie offered, to which Robin nodded in agreement as she started toying with Steve’s hair. “If you feel like you’re going to say something about Nancy, you could always say something to me instead. Really confuse the shit out of everyone.” He teased, but Steve beamed.
“Wait, that’s actually a great idea.”
Robin looked apprehensive, holding her hands in the air. “Steve, you remember you just freaked out about this, right? And now you’re going to play into it? Publicly?”
“It’ll be fun. I’m not gonna say anything directly about Eddie. But just. References. And then we can watch the fans lose their shit on TikTok later.” Steve reasoned with a grin, and Eddie smiled back at him.
“I promise to spend the entire show dancing my ass off and singing along. For the bit.” Eddie said, his hand over his heart.
“You do that anyway, you’re just usually backstage.” Robin pointed out, and Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Well, obviously, I have to join you and Dustin in the family tent tonight. Duh.”
“Yes!” Steve agreed with a laugh. “This is going to be so much fun!”
“You’re both psychotic.”
_____
“Indianapolis, you're making me feel awfully special tonight.” Steve bit at his lip as he looked around Lucas Oil Stadium to thousands of people screaming back at him. “This is as close to a hometown show as I really get these days, so thank you for always making sure to remind me how special of a place home is.”
The music started to pick up again, but Steve kept talking. “I kind of spent the last few years coasting by without anyone paying too much attention, but now that I’m back on the road, everyone’s suddenly deeply invested in my life, and it's strange to be back so close to somewhere I called home for so long, in the same position I was in five years ago.” He ran his fingers through his hair, before huffing out a laugh.
“But you guys, you've always been there. Unwavering in a way I will never be able to express my gratitude for.” he paused to glance around the crowd again, grinning as they cheered. “Not many people can say the same, you know?”
“Where is he going with this?” Dustin asked, leaning close to Robin, who shrugged, trying not to have a visible reaction. There were always cameras on them in public like this. Any reaction would be taken out of context and exaggerated.
“Did you see the tabloid rumors about Eddie and Steve?” She replied, and couldn’t help but smile as Dustin’s head whipped back forward to Steve.
“I mean, there’s Robbie, the kids I used to babysit. And, uh…” he trailed off, which Eddie took as his cue to move to the front of the family tent. “Maybe someone else. This one's for you.” Steve said, leaving the “you” ambiguous enough to be open for interpretation.
Eddie, hamming it up, made a heart with his hands, before immediately starting to headbang along to the love song next in the setlist.
_____
In a surprising twist, Dustin managed to wait until the security team had moved them out of the crowd and behind the stage with the crew nearly two hours later before his outburst.
“What the fuck?!” He asked as soon as the were away from the crowd. “Why are you two playing into this? It’s just going to get more headlines and attention on the two of you, which neither of you usually like!”
“But it’s different if it’s on our terms.” Eddie responded, not even looking up from his phone as he answered Dustin.
“Is it, though? Is it really on your terms if it’s not even true?” Dustin sounded exasperated, and while Robin could relate, she was planning on sitting this one out until Eddie shoved his phone into her face.
“It’s already on TikTok. 4 videos in.” He said with a grin as Robin watched Eddie make a hand heart toward the stage before his hair started flopping all over as he sang along. The clip was captioned “steddie is real!!!”
“So you’re proud you’re deceiving fans?” She asked, which made Eddie’s grin fall.
“Don't be so dramatic,” Steve called as he approached from the stage exit. He was covered in sweat and still in his performance clothes, holding a half empty water bottle. “It’s all in good fun. They never need to know if it was real or not.”
“I think you’re downplaying this by a lot. What happens the next time one of you is seen out on a date?” Dustin pressed, and continued despite the way Steve rolled his eyes. “I mean it, an honest to god date. People are going to lose their minds, trying to figure out what broke up Steve and Eddie, when you were never even together in the first place! They’ll turn you against each other, they always do. And if you weren’t dating, isn’t that just as bad of a look?”
“Woah. Henderson. Chill. It’ll be fine, man. You’re WAY overthinking this.” Eddie said, before he grinned at Steve. “Could you see my hand heart from the stage?”
“I could. Did you catch the wink I sent your way at the end of the song?”
“I did, nice touch! I patted my hand over my heart, so maybe that’ll end up on social, too.”
“I’m going to throw myself into the White River.” Dustin groans loudly, to a round of laughs and elbow nudges.
_____
Steve could pinpoint the exact moment things finally felt out of hand two weeks later.
He was getting ready for the show that will wrap up his first weekend at his “home away from home” in 5 years when Eddie texted him about being late to that night’s show.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
Eddie had missed the last two shows in Chicago
It shouldn’t matter.
Eddie’d been there, religiously, at the 4 shows before Chicago on the tour, and 6 others before that when his band wasn’t playing their own concerts. Steve even made 3 trips of his own to Corroded Coffin shows, around his own obligations.
But it still made him frown at his phone for a moment too long. Long enough Robin caught him.
“More headlines about Steddie?” She asked, slipping the phone from his hands before he could stop her. When she read over the message, though, her expression softened. “Oh, Steve, I’m sorry.”
“It’s no big deal.” Steve rushed out, snatching his phone back and shoving it into his pocket. “It’s fine. I’m not upset, there’s no reason to feel sorry. Besides, he just said he’ll be late, he didn’t say he isn’t coming.”
“Would you be upset if he wasn’t coming, then?” Robin asked. Steve glared daggers at her, and sighed when she held her hands in the air, feigning innocence.
“I don’t know.” He mumbled, honestly.
___
The intro tape was just about to start as Steve was making his usual trek toward his starting point, when he heard someone running and calling his name from behind him, rather than out in the crowd. He paused and turned, to see Eddie rushing toward him.
“I’m so sorry, I just wanted you to see that I made it before you went on!” He was out of breath, his hair more wild from running than usual, and Steve…
Well, frankly, Steve was tired of pretending like Eddie wasn’t the hottest person he’d ever seen.
So Steve met Eddie halfway, threw his arms around his neck and pressed their lips together in a move Eddie seemed to have anticipated because he wasted no time returning the favor.
It was only Steve’s cue music that had him breaking away, biting at his lip and grinning at Eddie, who grinned back at him, before using the hands he’d placed on Steve’s waist at some point in the interaction to turn Steve toward the stage.
“Go, before you miss the start of your own show, superstar. I’ll still be here after.” Eddie said.
“Promise?” Steve called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stage’s catwalk.
“Cross my heart, big boy.” Eddie drew an x over his heart for dramatic effect, then laughed and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched Steve run to make it to his place on time.
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jarofstyles · 4 months
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Leather & Lace 3
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Hi loves! This is the last official part of leather and lace but I’m open to doing some one shots and blurbs for them if you want (send requests for what you’d want to see)
Leather & Lace Masterlist
Check out our Patreon for early access to pieces and 170+ exclusive writings
WC- 6.3k
Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, soft dom H, slight degradation, praise kink, impact play, light choking, etc all the good stuff.
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Y/N padded out of his bedroom with his shirt hanging down on her form. Standing in his kitchen, he placed the glass down with a clink, watching her as she came closer. Glasses on her nose, makeup freshly off, hair tossed on top of her head, and something in her hand. “There she is.” He smiled, leaning against the corner of his countertops. “Took a minute didn’t you? Cinnamon rolls are almost done”. The stock he kept in his fridge for her favorite treat was put to use tonight. 
“Amazing.” She beamed, coming up to him. “Sit on the stool, please. I brought a makeup wipe so I can get your eyeliner off, cause I know you’re gonna whine that you’re tired later and then you’ll whine when you get a stye.” Y/N had been through this before a million times. 
“Always thinking ahead, aren’t you Butterfly?” He laughed, tapping her nose with his fingertip and not bothering to argue. It was true. He would definitely do that, and it wouldn’t be the first or last time he did. “Alright. Be gentle with me please, m’delicate”. 
Closing his eyes, he felt her warm fingers angle his face where she wanted before the cool wipe made contact with his skin. 
“So delicate with your bruised and split knuckles, hm? What did the poor punching bag do to you this week? Does he owe you money?” One of his favorite things about Y/N since day one had been her banter. They could go back and forth and she was quick to respond. It was playful, always, but she did tend to get more out of him when she approached it this way. She was asking why he’d been upset this week and been hitting the bag so aggressively and without gloves. 
Considering they had just made it official 2 hours ago, she was the best girlfriend ever. She wouldn’t push if he didn’t want to say it and he knew the girl would just nod and move on if he said he didn’t want to talk about it, but he found himself wanting to spill every single thought that crossed his mind to her. Y/N just didn’t have a clue. 
“Mm. My father called me.” He said softly into the cinnamon scented air. The sweetness made the bitter notes of his words a bit easier to tolerate. “Just same old shit, y’know? Nothing I do is gonna be good enough. Even though I’m successful in my own right, he’s always got to add those digs in.” The tumultuous relationship between Harry and his father had always been a sore spot. They weren’t enemies and he didn’t hate him, no, but their relationship had been rocky since Harry had gone to uni and not followed in his footsteps. He tried to be supportive in his own way but it was obvious that he disapproved.
Even though he was a grown man and he had plenty of other people proud of him, it always stung. “Sucks sometimes, that I want his approval. It’s the tiniest bit in me, a speck, but I can always feel it when I talk to him. It’s been a few years since the whole blowout and it’s gotten better but I just have to get over it, I guess. I don’t think he ever will.” Even though his sister had done what he wanted Harry to do, it wasn’t the same in his eyes. 
“I can only imagine.” There was a delicate pause as she got underneath his waterline. “But it’s okay to be upset about it, you know?” She always tried to tread lightly while also being truthful. It was a sensitive subject and the girl knew it. “He’s your dad. It’s going to bother you because we’re literally wired to want our parents' acceptance. It’s human nature.” Gentle swiping over his eyes got the pencil liner off, but she was thorough with it. Besides, she had a feeling he’d prefer his eyes closed for this sort of talk.  “I’m sorry that it’s like that for you, H. I know my words won’t replace his but I’m extremely proud of you and all you’ve done. Hopefully he’ll come around and see all that the rest of us do but… if he doesn’t? That’s a him problem.” 
Harry didn’t know how she managed to always say the right things. The knot in his throat shrunk from the comfort she gave him, her tender handling of both his physical being and his heart. This was the reason he wanted more with her. Almost anyone could get him to nut off, but not a single other person made his heart feel like this. Just as she’d said earlier, he felt completely safe with her in a way he didn’t even know he needed. Before her, he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable he was around people, but she showed him a brand new point of view. 
In the past, he’d opened himself up slightly to one girl. One girl who had used him and fucked his best mate, who he caught in the act. It had walled up the rest of his emotions in iron, not wanting even a crack to get into him because why would he? He’d never thought she or he would do that to him, never had any suspicion until about a month before when he saw glances across the room- but it turned out it wasn’t just his birthday outing they’d been planning. 
Then this girl had come along with her warmth and rusted the iron, getting it worn and cracked until there was a Y/N shaped hole for her to fill. She was understanding of his somewhat snarky nature, never took it personally and had stuck by him even when he’d tried to push her away. 
There had only been one time when he had been somewhat successful and it made his stomach twist and chest ache when he thought about it. It was far earlier on In their friendship, a few weeks in actually. She’d caught him on a bad day, coming up to him outside with her chatterbox open and running asking if he wanted to go to the cafe with him and that she had a surprise- and he’d snapped at her. He’d been rougher with his words than he meant to, honest, but he wanted to be alone and said as much in a not as nice manner. He’d watched her shoulders drop and the sparkle quite literally leave her eye as she looked towards the ground with a nod as even then when he least deserved it, she tried to be understanding.
 Something in him cracked when he heard the slight quiver in her voice when she apologized for being annoying and he’d looked up to see tears in those eyes and… fuck. His stomach dropped to his feet, watching her bottom lip quiver as she reached into her bag and grabbed the candy bar she’d grabbed from the vending machine after her class had ended, handing it to him before she scurried off. It was clear she hadn’t been tearing up for attention from how quickly she had left him, and with a candy bar in hand he felt completely nauseous over how he’d treated her. 
He couldn’t shake the feeling even as he gathered his things and called out for her, throat thick as his bad day got worse only by his own accord. Her lack of presence was felt, coldness settling in his bones when he realized what he’d truly done. It was then that he vowed to never treat her like that again. Y/N had been the sweetest thing in the world to him, got him his fucking favorite candy and was excited to study with him and he’d gone and fucked it all up. Made her fucking cry. She’d been long gone by the time he stumbled back into the pathway but he was already trying to make it right.
In the end he had showed up at her door with a teddy bear in hand along with her favorite candy and some take away, feeling like a kicked puppy as she opened her door and he had seen her swollen eyes and lips. It had been the most heartbreaking thing he ever saw and he apologize profusely when she let him in even when he didn’t deserve it, hugging her on his own accord for the first time and running fingers through her hair as she insisted she forgave him. ‘Everyone has those days and I’m sensitive, I know.’ Is what she said. 
Some days even still he thought about that as he watched people take advantage of her and it made him even more motivated to take care of her. 
In these sort of moments it felt hard not to think about loving her. Even in his rough and tumble sort of persona, she treated him tenderly. Held his arm, brushed his hair back, fixed his tangled necklaces, Y/N had treated him with a delicacy that he didn’t know he needed. 
As soon as the makeup wipe was pulled away, he opened his eyes and cupped her cheek to pull her in for a kiss. It had already been hard to keep his lips to himself, but this situation… it was his new obsession. “You know you’re perfect, right?” He asked against his current addiction, pressing another kiss to them. “Just… I dunno how you always know how to say the right shit. It scares me sometimes, y’know? Sometimes it feels too good to be true, that you… that you’re some sorta dream, but you’re not. And now you’ve told me you’re mine, and M’really fucking nervous about fucking it up but I’m going to do everything I can to be the best for you. Alright?” 
The emotion had slipped off his tongue without his permission but for one of the first times in his life he didn’t regret it. Her lips curled against his in that breathtaking smile he adored, tossing the wipe to the side as she wrapped an arm around his neck. “Harry… I don’t expect perfection. I know relationships… they take time to build. You aren’t some sort of build-a-boyfriend to me. I like you because you’re you. I like the grumpy, sarcastic, scowly bits of you. I always have. You’ll fuck up, I’ll fuck up, it’ll be a whole thing and then guess what?” Pulling back, she took in his face with her soft gaze. “We’ll fix it up again and it’ll be stronger. As long as you don’t cheat on me? I’m yours. And we both know you really aren’t capable of that.”
Harry would rather saw his hand off than cheat. He’d seen what it had done to him, so putting anyone else through that would be disgusting on top of hating the concept to begin with. He’d cut off people he knew for cheating on their partners and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. “M’glad you know.” He sighed. In a weird way, this talk was making him aroused. Hearing how she liked him, that she knew they’d work, it just… it did something to him. “You look perfect in my clothes.” That too. Yeah, that had something to do with the thickening happening in his pants.
“I like wearing them. I always have. I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a while, you know.” She teased, leaning into his body and letting her tits press up against him as she kissed his jaw lightly. “It always made me feel like yours when you let me wear them.” 
“You’ve been mine.” The dark grumble of his voice was a telltale sign that the words had pleased him. “Regardless of title, you’ve been mine for a while.” It was true and the both of them knew it. Harry’s eyes had been blind to anything but her for a long time and it had been painfully obvious when he hadn’t been able to get it up for other people not too long after meeting her.  Or had to think about her in order to nut off. 
“I know.” The confirmation was warm as she felt his hand travel down to rest above her ass. “And I was hoping you’d been mine for a bit but I’m pretty sure I was. You like to talk when you’re getting head, huh?” The smile was teasing and maybe he should be flushed at that but it was just another layer of arousal for him to remember her on her knees with his cock tucked between puffy lips and drool down her pretty chin. 
“No, actually. Jus’ with you.” He said truthfully. “I was… more of a hit it and quit it with the other people if m’honest. Know I babbled a bit but it felt really fucking good.” They could both feel he was hard now and the awkwardness of the last encounter on his end was gone. “Never expected you to be filthy, though. Thought you’d be a bit more shy but… I like that you were gagging for it just as much as I was.” Over the fabric of his shirt he gripped her ass, a nice handful as he squeezed and watched her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you properly. I’ve been dying to taste you,’to feel you. But I need t’know what you like.” 
“A bit of leather and lace.” Was the answer. Long lashed eyes peered up at him as she tipped her head back to look at him. “Sweet and spice. Nice and mean. Be sweet to me and call me a slut again. Spank me and kiss it better. That’s what… it’s what I’ve always imagined with you.” Her words were slightly more hesitant now but she didn’t back down. “You can be a little rough with me as long as you baby me later. I’ve never been…” she paused for a moment as she bit her lip. “I’ve never been fucked right. People treat me like I’m some delicate little toy which, I can be and I like sometimes but… I’ve always known you’d be able to give me the deep one I want. The type to make me lose my breath. Right?” Her fingers curled around his wrist that still rested on her cheek and trailed it down to have his hand rest against her throat. “You can throw me around a bit and make me take it. I can still be a doll for you, but maybe one you use a little bit.” 
Jesus fucking Christ. 
Harry’s mouth was torn between being dryer than the desert and watering down his chin at her descriptors of what she wanted. His hands held her ass and her throat and she was handing herself over on a silver platter as his cock twitched in between them, eager to get to work on her. “Fuck me…” he whispered hoarsely, thumbing over the side of her neck before giving a tiny squeeze. Just a bit, watching her face as he did so. She melted almost immediately and it was then he got the confirmation that she'd been hand crafted for him. Eyes glazed over and a weak, precious whine escaping her mouth and vibrating against the hand covering her throat, he couldn’t hold himself back from kissing her hard. Gathering her as close as possible with his hand keeping its grip for half the kiss before releasing it and using it as a guide to keep her close. “You’re going to ruin me, and M’gonna love every fucking second of it.” 
—-
It had happened quite quickly. The buzz of the oven interrupted them, the only reason Harry even slightly entertained it was so he didn’t burn the place down. He had been quick to toss them on the counter and lost the oven not before picking her up and bringing her into his bedroom. 
“If I died right now, I’d be okay.” He whispered as he looked at her bare cunt. The panties had been discarded and his lips kissed her inner thighs, nosing over the sensitive skin and watching her react to him. “You’re so gorgeous. Smell so fucking good, Butterfly. Gonna have t’tear me away from this pussy.” It was not a joke. 
Kissing over the mound, he spread her open and gave a long lick over the expanse of her slight and yeah- yeah. He was addicted. Licking deeper into her, he felt himself melt into a frenzied version of himself as he let his tongue explore her. Fingers buried in his hair as she gripped him, stomach jumping as she panted at the feeling of his mouth on her. 
Harry had enjoyed giving head before, was no stranger to eating pussy, but this was different. There had never been this all encompassing need to make her cum over and over again on his tongue, that greed that settled in his gut as he heard her moan his name and spread her legs further for him. Welcoming him and his touch. 
He didn’t hold back. Y/N had told him what she wanted and he knew her well enough now to understand. 
“Sweet.” He mumbled against her. “So fuckin’ sweet. Course you are, Butterfly. Fuckin’ perfect, every inch.” Kissing her clit he felt her jump, chuckling as he did it again before licking over the sensitive pearl. “M’gonna make you cum on my tongue, and then M’gonna give you the fuck you needed. I’ll be so nice to you, baby. So sweet, get you nice and fucked out the way you need. Promise.” 
Harry was going to fulfill that promise. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he gave soft, pulsing suckles as he slipped a finger inside of her and felt her hips buck off the bed. 
It was only a introduction, a sneak peek of what he’d feel around his cock but he had to remind himself not to blow too early as he felt her clenched around his digit. Tight and hot and silky against his hand, he groaned against her cunt and nuzzled deeper into it as he settled in. 
“H-Harry… oh my god.” She sighed out, slowly grinding against his face. “Oh my god, you… you’re so good at this. I’ve never….” Never came from this, which was something that pissed him off when he put the pieces together but he knew he’d wear the title of the first one to be successful proudly. Ideally, no one else would ever have it again. He had no plans on giving this obsession up. 
He hummed against her, meeting her eyes as she looked down at him with her messy hair and her bitten lips, mouth opened in the cutest little ‘o’ shape and her brows furrowed. Her clit was throbbing against his tongue and he couldn’t get enough, sucking a bit harder as he added a second finger inside of her. 
“Oh fuck, oh- just like that. Your fingers are big.” She whimpered, making him chuckle against her. Of course they were compared to her own. He had imagined that exact thing in this bed, imagining her in her own room with her fingers stuffed inside her drippy cunt and his name peeling off hers lips as she made herself orgasm. 
Making himself pull back, he fucked his fingers into her and enjoyed every bit of the noise it made. He’d made her wet like this, he’d gotten her to be a sopping mess and he enjoyed every single second of feeling it on his fingertips. “I know, baby. But my cock is much bigger and I need to get you prepped for it. You’re plenty wet…” he purred, leaning over her and keeping her eyes as he pursed his lips and spit right over her clit. “Just need to make you cum and you’ll be nice n’ready for me.” 
There wasn’t a hint of hesitation as he went back in, spreading his spit with his tongue before returning to his motions. He could feel it in her actions, how she clenched around his fingers, pulling her clit into his mouth over and over again as she got more and more wet around his fingers with difficulty not bucking into him. 
“I want it, I need it. I’ve been thinking a-about it for so long. I need you to fuck me, H.” Her voice was different than he’d ever heard it. More whiny, a tinge of desperation to the sweet sound he was obsessed with, and every bit of hot as he knew it would be. 
“I will, baby. Promise. Jus’ let go for me. I can feel you’re close.” He coaxed, curling his fingers just so and watching as her head fell back against the duvet as his lips continued the pull of her clit. 
It was hotter than he could’ve imagined. When she came a few minutes later, he watched her hand grip his hair and the other her own breast as she let out the prettiest noises and whines of his name as she trembled, hips bucking again into his mouth as she tumbled over the edge.
He held her steady with a happy noise, pulling off her clit with one last soft suckle and a kiss but kept his fingers inside of her as he moved back up her body to kiss her mouth. She welcomed it, both hands grabbing his face and not minding the mess she made on his chin and nose from his healthy exploration of her. Mumbled of praised were echoed between their kisses, slow pumps of his fingers working her through the orgasm as she rocked her hips into his hand. 
“Harry, I need it.” Her eyes met his. “I’m clean, I just- I need it, I need you inside me now.” Her neediness wasn’t something he’d been privy to before and it was more than satisfying, but he had to admit that what made him feel even better was knowing she wanted to go bare. He’d
Gotten tested just a few weeks ago at his appointment which was a bit of serendipity, he supposed, because now he was going to get what he had been stroking off to the most. 
“Yeah? Y’sure?” He whispered, watching her nod as he slowly pulled his fingers from her cunt and quickly cupped over it, soothing her. “You’re a dream. Y’know that, baby?” A laugh of disbelief echoed from his chest as he slowly pulled his hand back and slipped his pants off. His shirt had been tossed in the midst of things and he wanted hers off too, even if the idea of fucking her in his tee shirt was appealing. Later. 
She was receptive to it, letting him tug it off and exposing her to him again. 
He had to take a moment to simply enjoy her. 
Harry had always appreciated how beautiful she was but he also had to take a second to be thankful that she let him see her at her most vulnerable. That he got to see her in the most delicate state, one he was going to be the only one to see. Spread thighs and bare tits and soft tummy, all his. His, his, his. 
“M’so happy you’re mine.” He whispered, running a hand over her stomach as his other fisted his cock. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Not jus’ your body but your whole being. And I hope you know how much it means t’me that you’re letting me be yours too.” It hit him then, watching her peer up at him. He was being entrusted with a damn near golden heart and there were no plans on doing anything but cherishing it. 
“H…” she whispered, motioning him to come to her. He did, as he always will, buttoning their lips together as he nudged his tip through her wet slit and felt her sigh, wrapping her legs around his hips. “You are perfect. I adore you and- and I’m happy you’re letting me be yours too. You make me feel so good in all the ways possible and I just want to be as close as I can get.” 
There was no room left for debate. 
He began to push into her, watching her face as he filled her. It was slow at first, letting himself pace themselves considering he knew very early on that this would have to be a multiple round night because there was no way he’d be satisfied with just one. Y/N had been the object of his affections for a long while now and finally getting to be with her in the way he’d craved had lit him up. 
“There we are…” he whispered as he was fully inside of her. “You feel so good on me, Butterfly.” A kiss pressed to her lips, slow rocking into her for the beginning of this. The man fully intended to give her what she wanted but the first few moments would be tender and soft, show a true appreciation of her. The soft yellow light of his lamp next to his bed lit up the side of her face, shadows across the other side. Her hand held his bicep and the other on the back of his neck as she let out a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed kisses all over her face.
It was a high, feeling her heat on him. She was everywhere, capturing every bit of him yet again. Tugging him deeper into a trap he had no plans on escaping from. The slow rocking of their hips garnered a hitch in her breath, still sensitive from her orgasm moments ago but taking in every moment she could. Every second felt special and precious. 
“You don’t even know….” He breathed. “Don’t even know how much I think about this. Made me feel like a perv for a bit, seeing you in my shirt last week… then you crawled into my lap and you ruined me.” It was hard to keep it from spilling out.  “I couldn’t run anymore from how you m-make me feel. And then y’put your mouth on me, near begged to, made me feel fucking crazy. I’ve been waiting all week to get my hands on you again… but this is the best day.” The fact that she was officially his and she was holding on to him, letting out a sweet sigh as he began to pull out the slightest bit and pushed back in. 
“I thought about it too.” She admitted, though it felt hard to talk. “I wanted this and-and I wanted you and m’so happy right now.” Her eyes watered a bit and fuck, fuck, fuck.  He cooed, shaking his head as he kissed her again. His sweet girl, crying because she had wanted him just as much as he had wanted her. 
“M’yours, Butterfly. All yours, and… M’not gonna let you go. Promise. You can have me as many times, as many days, as you want.” The man doubted that she’d ever truly understand how much this meant to him, how much she meant to him. That she’d look past his shitty attitude and stuck by him long enough to see the real parts, the softer ones. Hell, she made him want a relationship when he had never thought he’d want one again.
Harry was unequivocally hers, body and heart.
It stayed slow for a while, deep kisses and soft moans, but he could feel her start to get restless. He was very aware of part of his appeal to her- the rough and tumble. So when he felt her start to squirm, he took her throat again and held her back down, keeping his slow pumps as he watched her eyes hood and a soft mewl fall from her lips as she clenched around his cock. “Impatient girl. You’re tryin’ to rush me, hm?” He whispered, squeezing the sides of her throat momentarily. “I told you I’d fuck you right. But I wanted to appreciate you, make you feel how much I adore you. Is that not enough for my girl?” 
Y/N shook her head, panting as her legs tightened around his waist. “M’sorry.  I’m not trying to rush you, promise. I just feel so good n’I want more.” 
“Of course she does. Pretty little doll wants some more.” He crooned, clicking his tongue. “Being stuffed to the brim and stretching that tiny cunt isn’t enough for you. You told me about this, warned me. Told me you liked a bit of both.” Pulling out a bit more, he slid back in with a bit of force that caught her breath. “So you’re tired of being my sweet girl… you want to be a whore?”
There was something about the delicacy in the way he said it, the way it was silky and smooth and so unlike how the word would usually be delivered that had her moaning out loud. He was so, so nice to her and she loved it but it was clear she needed some more. Thankfully she had come to the right place. 
“Okay, okay. You want t’be a cute little slut. I see how it is, my darling.” He grinned, containing the slightly rougher pace. “Jus’ let me look at this gorgeous face a bit longer, and then I’ll flip you on your hands and knees so you can bury your face into the bed while I make you cum.” 
Harry had a hard time controlling himself knowing that she wanted to be roughed up. His angelic Y/N, wanted to be pounded out into the mattress. The original thought was that he’d have to work her up to that and see if she liked it, maybe a spank or two, but here she was. Gushing on her cock from the mere mention of being fucked harder. 
“Do you want me to spank that pretty ass?” He questioned, listening to the squelch of her cunt with each pass inside of her. His personal heaven. “Make it hot? How much do you want, Butterfly?” 
“I want anything.” She promised. “Please spank me and- and choke. I want to feel it tomorrow.” It was apparent now that she really did crave it, bucking into his thrusts and getting wetter the harder he got. He was going to have such a good time learning her body. How it ticked, what got her off, what made her squirm. It was a whole new facet to their relationship that he was giddy to explore. 
“I’ll give you anything you want, my gorgeous girl.” He promised. “Make the prettiest fuck doll out of you.” 
Harry kept his promise. 
Y/N squealed as he pulled out, flipping her over and hissed at his hands spreading each side of her ass open. “Look at you… you piece of art.” He sighed. “M’gonna mark this canvas up. Never imagined bruising you before but… what my girl wants, she gets.”
The first spank was a quick one, making her yelp as he stuffed himself back into her needy hole. It was exposing her, letting him have access to her cunt and ass and it was obviously exhilarating from how she clenched before pushing back into him for more. “You liked it.” The man smirked, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands. “We’re going to get on perfectly in the bedroom, aren’t we Butterfly?” 
From there, Harry let loose. Keeping a hand on her hip and the other holding her ass, giving swats to the skin as he fucked into her deep and thorough. He watched in awe as her ass rippled every time it met his thighs, the sound of skin slapping and her whimpers filling his bedroom. Her cunt was hot and so fucking wet he was surprised he hadn’t slipped out yet, creamy and soft but keeping him in tight. 
He’s heard Y/N babble before, but all she could come up with was whimpers and whines of his name, more, and again when he smacked the round of her ass. It was unexpected, but he was eating up every single movement, every noise she squeaked out. It felt incredible to know he was the one doing it. He had been the one to make her lose that soft shell and got deep into the underbelly, literally and metaphorically, burying deep inside of her with each tuck. “That’s my girl, taking it so well. I adore you, y’know that?” He cooed. “Love this hot cunt. Think M’gonna stay inside of it for a while, what do you think?” There was no answer but a punched out breath from his cock. “Mmm… I think so too. You did say you wanted t’be my whore.” The tone was slightly condescending but it was evident quickly that she reacted well to that. 
For all the time he’d been thinking about this, reality was much sweeter. With her taste on his tongue and her arousal smeared all over his cock and forming a creamy ring around the base of his cock with each squelching fuck into her needy and willing hole, he couldn’t have imagined something better. Something so unfiltered and raw, going bare inside his candy sweet girl who had overtaken his life. 
What really set her off, though, was his fingers tucking under her and finger her slippery and swollen clit, rubbing over it firmly, she moaned loud and clear, panting into the air as she clumsily grabbed his wrist as if to keep it there. Like he’d pull it away. “I see it baby, I feel it. You jus’ needed that clit played with. You’re gonna cum for me.” He breathed in an amazed chuckle. “Gonna cum all over my cock so I can fill you to the brim and keep you full and warm.” 
Y/N didn’t need much more than that. His cock in her tummy and his fingers at her clit, ass burning slightly from his swats. He felt it the moment it began, the fluttering around his prick and her hitch of breath as she got his name falling from her mouth and the slight tense of her body before she fell apart on him.
The prettiest sight he’d ever seen in his life. It was then that he swore he’d do his best to see it as many times as he possibly could, which would be a blessing or a curse depending on what the girl underneath him thought of overstimulation. 
Which was why even as he growled out, spilling into the perfect cunt that milked him, he kept thrusting. Slow and sloppy now, feeling his load dripping from her and onto the bed, he continued with his fingers on her clit as she squirmed. His cock fucked the cum right into her, massaging it into her walls as he kissed her skin. “‘Nother one. Gimme another one, my baby. Show me how much y’love being my sweet little whore.”
The sensitivity was probably to blame with how fast the second one came, shaking slightly as she let out the weakest whine of his name before pushing his hand away. Even though he could’ve done it over and over, he hummed and listened to her cue, turning them onto their sides and kept himself snug inside of her. He’d clean her up in a bit, bring her to the shower, make sure she was fed her cinnamon rolls, but for a little bit he wanted to bask in the bliss of having a dream come true. 
“S’okay, Butterfly. I’ve got you.” He nudged his nose against her neck, placing another chaste kiss there as she folded their fingers together. “Now you can fly home to me.” 
—-
It was far too late for cinnamon rolls if a normal person had any say, but thankfully they didn’t. Y/N sat on the counter with her hair placed back into that messy updo and his shirt on her torso while he had been convinced to wear his boxers while in the kitchen, dipping the microwave reheated cinnamon rolls in the icing. 
“I’ve got to teach you how to make them from scratch.” His girl sighed, kicking her feet as they dangled off the counter. 
“What, is my store bought hot food enough for you?” He pouted in faux offense, but luckily she didn’t fall for it. 
“You know that’s not the case. I love that you buy me some to have when I’m here.” A sugary kiss was given to his bottom lip, but she pulled away too fast to deepen it. A shame if you asked him. “It’s just, y’know, it would be fun to do together. There’s plenty of time to… hang out while the dough rises, and stuff like that.” 
Harry’s brows shot up at the insinuation, the unexpected laugh barking through the kitchen as he lowers his half ripped cinnamon roll to the plate. “I’ve created a little monster, haven’t I?” The shit eating from on his face showed no sign of regret, though. “One fuck and I’ve corrupted you. Sweet little thing turned into a needy pup in heat.” He paused before pointing a finger smeared with cinnamon sugar on it in her face. “Or have I just uncovered something that was in front of my face this whole time? Innocent act?” 
Y/N answered by leaning forward to take his finger into her mouth, sucking on it slowly and flicking her tongue over the tip before pulling back on it. 
There was no doubt now he’d found his perfect match, even if it was his complete opposite. Maybe they weren’t as different as he thought.
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feathered-serpents · 2 years
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I don’t know how to explain to some of you that it’s okay for creators to make money
Like yes capitalism sucks the endless stream of sequels and marvel movies and rehash after rehash is exhausting but when we’re talking about indie studios, even the larger ones like Critical Role, some of you are just so quick to jump to “soulless cash grab” at the slightest hint that there may be a profit based motive behind a project. Which. There literally always is
The idea of the starving artist has given us the concept they “good” creators never think about money even when they’ve managed to pull off the miracle of being a full time creator. That’s rare, and precarious. Sometimes they will have no choice to put profit before creativity because that’s literally what they need to survive. If they give a shit, which it’s incredibly bad faith to assume they don’t, they’ll still try to make that profit-motivated project good and enjoyable. Because they know putting out a bad product won’t generate that oh so evil profit and they just CARE and want to put good art in the world regardless of the motive
Some of y’all just straight up hate when creators are successful or put any thought towards profit. I’m not saying you’re doing that purposefully, you’re jaded, I get it, but you’ve got to start allowing some nuance because even the most original, anti-establishment creator needs to fucking eat
So many of the people I see saying this are aspiring creators themselves. What do you think you’re going to have to do? Do you think you’ll just magically be an exception? We all live in the same world. If you want to be a creative professionally, always remember what you said and what your subject did in situations like this, because it will happen to you
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youllneverseemerelax · 10 months
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Belated urge to clean the mirror on this cool vintage armoire thing hidden by the latenight coffee/teahouse bathrooms
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daydreams-after-dark · 5 months
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Scientist Chan part 2 of ∞
Read Part 1 here
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SMUT WARNING // MDNI ⚠️ scientist!Chan (Chris) x test subject fem!reader (feat. Video call with Minho)
Scientist Chan Masterlist
Scientist Christopher is doing experiments on making pussies come. He has a range of devices that he has been using on his subject each night. In part 1, Chris introduced sexual intercourse into the experiment, which was a success. In this installment, he explores your reaction to various sexual positions, and introduces anal penetration while on a video call with Professor Lee Minho Approx 5 minute read Unhinged level 🤡🤡🤡🤡
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CW: master/dom x sub // unprotected vaginal and anal sex // videoing sex // livestream sex to colleague // anal penetration with devices // squirting // faux scientific observations // clitoral stimulation // potential masturbation
“Your pussy takes cock so well no matter what the position.” States Scientist Chris, for the benefit of his voice recorder.
It’s the fourth sexual position he has you in for the night. Starting with missionary on his desk with your legs over his shoulders, then on all fours where his cock seemed to reach even deeper parts of you, followed by you riding him facing him while he laid on the examination bed.
Now he’s got you reverse cowgirl, him sitting on his leather couch, you with a foot planted on the cushions either side of him while he lifts and drops your hips on his cock. You’ve been instructed to hold your vibrator against your clit, and under no circumstances are you allowed to remove it.
“Sir! Can’t…. Can’t take any more… pussy’s sore…” you cry out.
“Shh… I know you can give me one more. There’s… so much cream still leaking out of you.” He pants. “You’re my best test subject, yeah?”
“Mmm hmm… I’m a good girl… I wanna be good.”
“Then one more and I’ll stop.” He pulls you down hard onto his cock, and leans you back so your laying flush against his chest.
“Come for me.” He takes hold of the vibrator and rubs it hard against you while he grinds into your cunt.
You sob as you climax once more. You don’t know this, but one of Chris’ secret goals is to train you to come on demand.
You go limp against him, but he doesn’t let you rest.
“Quick. Up on the examination bed. I must inspect you.” He says, pulling up his trousers and putting his white coat back on.
“Yes. On your back. Open your legs…. Good girl.”
You’re naked, sweaty, still trembling from god knows how many orgasms. You close your eyes, happy to finally rest.
Snap. Snap. Click
You lift your head to see Chris taking photos of your swollen pussy.
“I’m just collecting evidence to show my colleagues.” He states. “Spread your lips for me. That’s it.”
Click. Snap. Click.
“Speaking of colleagues.” He pops his camera down and picks up his phone. “Remember how I told you about Professor Lee Minho?”
You nod.
“He wanted me to video call him and show him what he’ll be working with if he collaborates with me. Can we do that for him?” He asks.
Of course he can. Your Chris’ test subject and you want to help him with any experiment or project.
“Chris. Update me. How did she do tonight?” Professor Lee says through the phone.
“She did well. Her pussy adapted wonderfully to the positions. Although, it became fatigued and overstimulated by the end of it.” Chris gives his update.
“Show me.” Demands the professor, his voice laced with lust.
Chris moves the phone close to your pussy so the professor could see. He sucks in a breath. “Her labia is still engorged. Lovely.” He approves. “Spread her open.”
You use your fingers to spread your lips. “Her lubrication is of a creamy consistency.” The professor notes as Chris focuses on the camera on your hole. “And her clitoris looks agitated. How many orgasms?”
Chan checks his notes. “Six.”
“Is your test subject experienced with anal stimulation?”
Chris chuckles. “Well, friend. My plan was to begin that experiment tonight on our call. If you have time.”
“I’ve nothing on my schedule. It’d be my pleasure to witness this. Plus it’ll give me a good idea of what she can take when I’m visiting.”
Chris puts on his head strap that has a camera attached, and reconfigures his tech so Professor Lee can get a virtual front row seat of what he’s about to do.
He flicks the main lights off, and turns on the bright lamp, directing it on you so your holes are illuminated. Then he brings over a rolled up bag, placing it on his little table next to him, and settles himself on his stool at the end of the bed.
Unrolling the bag, he spreads its contents out carefully. Six anal plugs and vibrators of various sizes, and a bottle of lubrication.
“Let’s get you as comfortable as possible.” He says as he props your legs into straps that hold your knees up and open, essentially folding you in half.
“Fuck! Her little ass… ahem… anus is perfect isn’t it?” Professor Lee observes.
“It is. Ready to begin?” Chris checks in with you.
“Yes, Sir.” You gulp. You’re nervous but terribly excited.
Chris begins by dribbling some lube directly on your hole and onto his index finger. You gasp at the coldness, and then again when his finger presses against you. He uses the palm of one hand to hold you nice and wide while he massages your asshole with the pad of his finger. After a short moment, he reaches over to his little table and selects the smallest vibrating plug.
Neither of the men say a word as he lubricates the device and switches it on.
“Look how she reacts to just the sound of the vibrator.” Observes Professor Lee.
Chris has you so trained up that just the sound of a vibrator has your cunt gushing.
You moan low when it’s placed against your anus.
“Mmm… I think she’s going to like this. Chris. Where did you find such a receptive subject?” Professor Lee muses.
Chris simply chuckles to himself and pushes the tip into your ass, drawing another moan from you.
He slowly stretches you open, building up through his range of plugs, adding lubrication as needed. It feels agonisingly torturous, with his slow and careful ministrations. Your empty cunt clenches around nothing in frustration.
As he withdraws the fourth plug from your ass, the two men watch in awe as it settles back into its natural position.
“It’s a beautiful sight.” Sighs Professor Lee.
“It is.” Chris hums, sliding two fingers into your hole.
“Oh… god… fuck…” you cry as he finger fucks your ass. “Please… please… need to come.” You sob loudly.
“She’s close.” Professor Lee states. “Maybe we should skip the next two devices entirely?”
“Hmm. I feel you may be right.” Chris agrees, pulling his fingers from you and standing up.
“Do it. I need to see.” He says with a strained voice.
You hear Chris unzip his trousers and the squirting of more lube. He pushes his tip of his cock against your opening.
“Relax for me. That’s it… just like that. Let’s show Professor Lee how good you can take cock, yeah?”
The tip slides in with little resistance, but the stretch is much bigger than with the devices.
“Just a little bit at a time, you can take it. Look at you. You’re doing so well.” Chris encourages.
“She looks tight. Is she choking you? Is there much resistance?” Lee demands.
“Fuck. So tight.” He pants and stops still for a moment.
“Please…more… fill me.” You plead. You’re close to having your seventh orgasm of the night.
“She’s extremely aroused, Chris. Note the arousal leaking from her cunt.”
Chris applies more lube to his cock and around your rim. He might like testing your limits, but hurting you might cause you to be less receptive in the future, and that would set his experiments back.
Once he has you well lubricated, he withdraws his cock slightly and then presses himself in until he is three quarters of the way in. He pauses again to let you adjust, and then squeezes in the remainder of his length.
Professor Lee swears under his breath. You sob at how full you feel, your hand clinging to the thin sheet underneath you.
Chris starts to fuck you. Long, languid thrusts. Not too hard. But deep. You reach down to rub your sensitive clit. It’s still swollen from earlier, but you need to touch yourself. The combination of stimulating your clit while Chris fucks your ass has you crying with a desperation you’ve never felt before.
“Look at her taking it in the ass like that! I can’t wait to feel it around my cock.” Lee growls.
“Hear that, babygirl? You gonna let Professor Lee fuck your ass like this when he visits?”
“Y-yes… yes… want him him to have a turn.” You whimper.
“Good. Girl.” He pants and starts to fuck you harder. He grabs one of the unused vibrating plugs and pushes your fingers away so he can apply it to your clit.
You squeeze your eyes tight as you feel yourself about to burst.
“Look at you. Perfect little specimen. Come. Come for your master, little slut.” Professor Lee’s demanding words make you snap and you cry out as you come, squirting all over yourself.
Chris follows, trying his best not to throw his head back so Minho doesn’t miss a second, and coming deep inside your ass.
He stills, catching his breath.
“Female ejaculation. Interesting.” The professor purrs to himself.
Chris eventually pulls out of you and releases your legs, pulls his pants up, then picks up his phone to address the professor. “So Lee. What do you say? Want to work with me on the next phase?”
“Chris. let’s talk about scheduling me in for a visit.”
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Taglist is open.
Next time, Professor Lee visits… then in another instalment we meet Dr Kim Seungmin.
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @lurking-coconut sorry if you’ve already seen this… my tags broke but hopefully it’s fixed now.
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shooting-love-arrows · 11 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍
SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 who according to the sacred tradition of his peaople kiddnaps his bride. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 x Female! Reader tw. kiddnaping, mention of blood, general lack of consent (becaouse history says screw it), mayhem. WRITER DISGRESSION: I do not support this kind of behaviour! It is only a piece of fiction and and for entertaiment putpooses only. Thank you for your attention!
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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It was a sacred tradition among his people, passed down from generation to generation in his clan. Filled with adrenaline and led by primitive instincts, the soon-to-be groom/husband kidnaps his future bride and wife from her home. 
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 were traditionalists when it came to domestic life and topics related to love. He believed his ancestors and their ways of ‘wooing’ their subjects of affection were not only successful but also the truest form of confessing one’s feelings for their beloved.
Perhaps only taking you from home in the dead of the night would be better for an outsider like you, who is yet to understand the way of his people. But whenever he thought about it, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 was holding a belief that you deserved better. Something memorable and "romantic," quoting the wives in his village.
That is why he didn't hesitate to raid your village at night.
Dressed in his best furs and leather, additional beads attached to his long, messy hair, and all sorts of accessories tied to his clothes symbolizing his impressive position among his clan. He was at the front, proudly riding his trusted stallion and leading the group of his best warriors on galloping horses towards where you were residing.
Not soon after they'd arrived, everything was set on fire. The barbarians didn't spare a hut from the unforgiving force of nature of their torches. Even some unfortunate fellas couldn't escape from it. Some fortunate ones were given a quick death by the sharp blades of barbarians. 
It was the mayhem, gifted to you by 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧.
“Oh my dearest wife, where are you?” He kept thinking, urgently looking all around. Adrenaline and euphoria were pumping in his veins. He was a predator on a haunt, ready to pounce on you the moment he saw you. 
And found you he did.
The second he laid his eyes on you, he got into an action. Without hesitation, he quickly urged his horse to gallop towards you. It didn’t matter who he tramped on his way, nor who he slayed to get closer to you. His full focus was placed on you.
You stood no chance.
When he was close enough, like a hawk, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 swiftly leaned down and tightly gripped your waist, hoisting you up on his horse like you weighed nothing. You began to scream and trash in his iron hold, but it didn't phase him one bit. In his eyes, it was endearing and even arousing. He knew from the stories of the other married man that the more a woman puts on a fight, the better wife she’ll be. 
"Shhh...beloved...shhh!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 cooed, fervently kissing away your tears and wet cheeks and holding your hands tightly to his broad chest. Some of the blood splattered on his face he smeared on your snot coated face by nuzzling into you. Between whispering sweet nothings to you and coating your face and neck in his kisses, he couldn't help but laugh. His deep and raspy voice came rumbling from his chest, only frightening you further.
For 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 everything was perfect. Under the night sky, surrounded by flames (of his passion) and screams of villagers mixed with the mad laughter of his people, he achieved what he wanted. He gave you a grand and memorable ceremony. Additionally, in the eyes of his gods, clan and according to the sacred tradition, he laid his claim on you.
You were his, just like he was yours.
"You're mine, dearest wife. Mine!"
Forever.
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All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.
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winterzsurprise · 22 days
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Change My Mind [1]
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Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants. Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor
Words: 5k
haha heyy I'm back after a year. Still suffering from writer's block so here's the start of a series I created during it, forcing myself to actually write. There's no set schedule but I'll try my best to do it weekly. That is all and pre-save Neva Play :DD
[1] [2] [3] [4]
__________
Maybe you should've cut off your mother before you went past the age for mark appearances.
If you had then maybe you wouldn't be suffering with the overcompensating rant about an unfortunate man and his bare minimum achievements.
What are you, Bangtan's—The current biggest boyband in the world—makeup artists since their era of wearing thick eyeliners to convey their passion and emo inspired hairstyles, doing, listening to someone's so-called gratifying achievements?
Staring at the source of the grating voice babbling nonsense, you refrain yourself from letting out a heavy sigh.
Jeong Binwoo is a stout man. His roundness is enhanced by the fact that he's an inch or so shorter than you on a good day. His face reminds you of a dumpling, especially now that he's stuffing it with a handful of greasy fries in quick successions. Despite his full mouth, he kept on speaking and you swore a few stray blobs had landed on your plate.
You've only just a week and a half before the start of their tour in Seoul and here you are wasting your time sitting in front of a man whose awareness is limited to only himself when you could've been at work or binging some stupid cliche drama.
Maybe you should've listened to Namjoon's statistical analysis of your dates this year and never bothered going to this meeting as well.
Your mother's recommendations so far had never brought you a man decent enough nor carry an ounce of respect your father has for your mother. Why you still try and date them is a question you've asked yourself one too many times.
His rant was the standard overcompensating life story of a man unfortunate enough to be given an ugly mug and an even uglier fate. A conversation topic you've been subjected to far more often than you'd liked but still smooths out your brain every time you're forced to listen to it. It might not be but it must've been an hour already since he started listing out the same adult milestones he achieved in his 28th year—you've done the same at a younger age, 20 to be exact.
Binwoo reached for your fries shamelessly when his fingers found his bowl empty and you couldn't stop yourself from grimacing this time. 
He was actually decent , compared to the other guys you've met before whose mouth spouted bullshit even the devil himself would gasp at. The man actually bought you a gift and opened and held the door for you.
'How disturbing that you think the bare minimum is a sign of a good man, noona.' A voice suspiciously sounding like Namjoon echoes in your head and you sighed for the nth time that afternoon.
If you weren't so weak against your mother's wishes, you would've been doing work instead of putting up with horrid dates over and over again. You'd willingly take on styling an energetic Jungkook at 6am trying to dodge your brushes and play fights with them then sit in front of another insecure man.
A clang of a metal utensil making contact on the tile took your attention to the two men sitting a few tables in front of you. Suddenly, you're reminded of the lovely bodyguards who have volunteered to watch the mess that is your love life for lunch.
You caught one of their gaze when he looked over his shoulder, pitiful, before kicking his friend's leg and picking up his phone.
Immediately, a vibration rang from your bag and you checked the message as discreetly as you could.
[13:24] Mimi: I feel so bad for you, noona. Is this really how guys are like these days? [13:24] Mimi: It's appalling how he thinks finally getting his own space at 28 is impressive. [13:24] Tete: do you need help? Please say yes, I don't think I can sit through the whole date and hear this bull. [13:25] Tete: Just seeing it is mentally scarring enough, I can't imagine how you're feeling as the one that has to actually listen.
"Hey, are you still listening? I hope I'm not talking too much." A voice interrupts before you could reply.
Looking up from your phone, Binwoo's face now displayed a sheepish smile, the smear of ketchup on the edge of his lips not going unnoticed. His greasy hand had reached behind his head to scratch the back of his nape and you had to gather every strength in your body to not grimace when the same fingers he ate with met scalp.
You try not to notice how oily and stiff his hair already looked. You really tried.
You shook your head despite wanting it all to end for the sake of appearing respectful and the man immediately continued his empty boasting, the same hand he scratched his neck returning to claw down at your fries without another thought and immediately your phone pings again.
[13:29] Mimi: did he just  [13:29] Mimi: did he just eat with the same hand he scratched with? On your plate of fries? [13:29] Mimi: I'm gonna barf [13:30] Mimi: Please free us from this torture, noona. My heart can only take so much [13:30] Tete: Screw this, we're going back. I can't do this anymore
A screech of a chair being dragged through tile took your attention back to the masked men in front of you and saw the tall and imposing form of Taehyung marching towards your table, brown beanie hiding his dyed hair and a black mask covering half of his face.
"The fucking gull you have to show your face here after you ran away with my heart last week!"
You sigh internally and hope he's not about to choose an embarrassing trope to follow through this time.
If he takes on another dramatic golden-spooned CEO character who throws tantrums when he can't do or get what he wants, you might just stab yourself with the butter knife next to you. Witnessing and being on the receiving end of his tantrums, even if it's acting, in such a public place like the park once is enough.
With a silent wish that Tae has picked a good trope to follow this time, you followed his lead.
Comically widening your eyes, your gaze bounced from Taehyung and Binwoo with a mystified look before sputtering out a reply.
"Wo-Wooyoung! I thought you went back to the states! How's being home again feels like?"
"Is this how you're gonna be? You're just gonna act like everything's alright after you took my youth ?!"
A couple of gasps erupted from the guests around you, in the seas of scandalized reactions there's a burst of hushed giggles from one guy in black from a particular table and you refrain yourself from glaring at his ducked head and shaking shoulders. The phone pointed in your direction didn't go unnoticed, no doubt recording it all from start to finish to send to the group chat as he always does.
Ever your biggest supporter.
At this point, everyone in the restaurant is looking at the three of you. A glance at Binwoo told you of how close you are to freedom. The man has hunched his shoulders, shrinking into himself, trying to disappear from the public gaze while his eyes busied itself by tracing the details on the tiles. He has long stopped from eating now as he hangs his head in embarrassment, ashamed to be associated with you.
"Hey, I'm sorry man. I didn't know you were like that, in your profile it said that you were experienced in hammering."
"I do woodworking, of course I'm amazing at it!"
You hear a dull thud erupt from two tables over. At the edge of your eyes you see Jimin hitting the table with a closed fist, his giggles a little louder; enough to gather a few confused eyes but quiet enough to limit the range to the patrons next to him.
"I-I'm so sorry."
Binwoo flushes before darting out, towing his black suitcase that looked suspiciously light, away from the eyes of everyone in the restaurant and relief floods your body, muscles relaxing as you watch his form disappear behind the partition between the tables and the exit.
You stare up at Taehyung to find him already looking back at you with crinkled eyes past the dim shades he was wearing, his cheekbones poking above the mask as he smiled.
With your date finally out of the shot, Jimin's laughter explodes into loud cackles of a mad man as he stands, stumbling before he manages to approach you both. When he was close enough, he latched onto Tae's arm to stabilize himself as he held up his phone with the camera app open. Immediately, everyone's displeasure echoed in the room at the implication that the intense scene they just witnessed was a part of a vlog.
Despite how much of a spur of a moment their plan seemed, the duo has managed to construct a simple start and conclusion to their plan and you couldn't be more proud of your smart boys.
Taehyung turned to the mass and bowed.
"I'm sorry for disrupting everyone's afternoon, I was just saving my sister from a bad date and decided to make a vlog out of it. We're really sorry." Taehyung exclaimed.
The disturbed patrons' voices grew louder and angrier, a few attempting to approach your little group to possibly get physical.
Next thing you know, Tae's grabbing the paper gift bag your date has given you earlier before reaching to your and Jimin's hand and pulling you both out of the restaurant at full speed with a wide grin, leaving behind indignant screams of 'YA!' . You couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out of your chest as you three raced down to the stairs, taking the safer and the long way down. You'd regret the decision later once your age kicks in and the ache on your knees comes but the thrill thrumming under your skin keeps you occupied.
They'd probably ban you from ever entering the establishment but for now, you could care less, the place felt too pretentious for you anyways.
The laughter didn't stop even when you entered Taehyung's car, your joined delight bouncing off the small space and when it ceased, a satisfied silence followed. You and Jimin sag to your seats as the giggles die down, arms clutching your stomachs while Taehyung hunches over the wheel.
Even with how ridiculous the youngest decides on how to go about destroying a date, you couldn't deny the overflowing gratitude you hold for the guy for selling his dignity. Although as an idol with an interesting internet background, you doubt he still has one.
"Wow, that went better than I expected."
"I'm never taking you both to my dates again."
Jimin rolled his eyes at you, lips tugged into a grin. "You say that and take us anyways."
"I'm so glad Tae didn't pull another jealous CEO persona, I was so embarrassed that day!"
"Hey! I still got you out so it's not that bad!" Tae protests, turning to the both of you on the backseat. "At least I didn't act like an embarrassing ex that cried and begged on his knees by the outlook!"
Jimin's swat was quick and Tae hissed and gasped dramatically, cradling his arm as if it was broken by the slap.
"Now he's trying to hit me!"
"Nonetheless, we did so well ruining your dates this month, noona. I think we deserve some reward." Jimin's lips tugged up into a sly smile, eyes glimmering with mischief as he suggestively raised his eyebrows.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
Before you returned home, you had Tae stop by the nearest grilling restaurant to treat the two of them to a couple of orders of meat. If Jimin looked like a kicked puppy upon realizing you've misinterpreted his words, you didn't say anything.
In your defense, he didn't specify what he wanted. Even if he did, you wouldn't have entertained his flirty jokes.
Not a minute longer since the three of you had seated yourselves at a secluded corner at the far back of the restaurant did Jimin's phone ring. You didn't have to look at the screen to know it was Jungkook, ever so eager to hear about how his hyungs managed to scare off your date this time.
He treats it like he was watching those public prank videos on the internet but instead of random targets, it was your dates.
When the video call loads in, you are met with the sight of Jungkook and Jin sharing half the screen while the stylists hands tend to their hairs, stuck deciding between leaving a strand astray from their elevated fringes or keeping it neat.
"Hyung, did you manage to do what you were telling me last time?"
Taehyung grinned. "You should've seen how they all reacted!"
As Taehyung recalled the event with exaggerated movements and expressions—with Jimin adding his extraordinarily unique perspective every now and then—the plates full of meat to grill and bowls of rice you ordered came. Immediately, they were recognized by the waitress who bowed her head at them before shyly asking for an autograph. If you felt her eyes burning a hole through your skull throughout the encounter, you pretend not to notice.
You've introduced yourself as their make-up artist early on in their career, sneaking into their hearts with behind-the-scenes photographs of their idols. A few photographs in exchange of their respect which the boys and the company allowed. Even then, you wouldn't be able to avoid exchanges like these.
Once the waitress was gone, the boys continued to delight the others with their tales. They laughed and expressed their disgust, picking apart your date piece by piece down to his last molecule but as they continued noting down their observations, you started to feel that they're making up random facts out of spite.
Like, what do you mean you saw the guy kept wiggling in his seat to subtly scratch his ass? How did you even see that, Jimin?
But due to them sneaking out to be your guard dogs, they were called to return soon by an unimpressed Namjoon who took over the phone call at some point, threatening them with Hoseok who just laughed in response. You didn't miss the opportunity to rub your week-long rest in their faces with a smile when Taehyung and Jimin tried pouting their way out of punishment.
They ended up being given the chance to at least finish their food before they're given the countdown when Jimin bribed them with takeout.
"Come with us to drink that memory away instead, noona! Hyung and I are better drinking buddies anyways."
You waved Hoseok off. "I don't think Sejin would appreciate me distracting you guys more than I already do."
"Look into my eyes and say that you don't want to drink the memory away!" Yoongi said matter-of-factly from somewhere in the background.
"We won't even drink much, promise!"
"Stop lying to yourself, Hoba. We know you'd tap out after the third glass."  Jin snickered.
"Hey, I've changed! I can do four now."
Before you could further shoot his idea down, your phone flashes open with a ring displaying your mother's name and your heart drops. As if sensing the change in the air, their heads perked up to look at you.
You knew she'll contact you eventually but seeing her name on the screen glare back at you, a shiver wracks down your spine.
"Who is it?" 
"It's my mom."
Jimin and Taehyung gasped, shushing the people on the other line like kids trying to hide a stray pet from their parents who came home as you answered the call.
"Hello my dearest daughter, tell me why the hell did Binwoo's mother just call me to tell me that you've been going around stealing people's youths?! I don't remember raising you to be such a person!"
Despite not having the call on speaker, her rage is loud enough for the other two to hear. Instead of sending pitying looks towards you like a proper friend should, they were grinning and trying to stop themselves from cackling. Your mother's screeching evolved into rapid fire scolding with barely any breathing in between, sending your companions into silent laughter.
You could only glare as Taehyung threw his head back as he guffawed noiselessly while Jimin had hunched over the table, his shaking shoulders being the only indicator that he too was laughing.
Kicking them both under the table, you gathered the courage to interrupt your mother so she could breathe.
"Mom, it was just a friend who wanted to save me from Binwoo."
"A friend?!? A friend my foot! He must be an-uh what do you call it these days—a friend with benefits! Here I thought you've been busy fussing over those Bangtan boys to fool around!"
At this, their ears perked up, attention falling to yours.
"God! If you just started dating them then I wouldn't have to stress myself over finding you a husband!"
Taehyung sobers up, playing with the meat on the grill as he whispers. "Oh I wish auntie but noona is too professi—ow!"
Your foot swiftly connects with his shin and Taehyung hunches over the table, hand disappearing down to cradle his foot.
"I assure you, Mom, if you've seen how he acted, you'd thank your daughter for dodging such a disgusting guy. He didn't even ask me permission to eat my fries!"
"Aishhhhh! If you were here I would've hung you upside down in a sack outside our house! God, I'm gonna have a cardiac arrest because of you!"
"The guy is really my friend, mom! It's the same guy who interrupted my dates before. Remember the crazy CEO?"
"I know I know! But with how picky you are, you'll end up alone! I know you're trying to wait for your soulmate but you're 26 now! You're way past the maximum marking age!"
Taehyung and Jimin fall silent as an awkward silence settles between your group, continuing to place their pork into the leaves and engulfing them almost meekly; almost because the way they ate the wrap is far from graceful.
You've known that for a year now, accepted your fate but the reminder made your heart ache. Imagine how it was for a hopeless romantic, who dreamt of fated meetings and whimsical red strings on your pinkie, to find out that they're untethered. Even then, a small part of you, a much younger version, keeps hoping for a chance that you're just a late bloomer.
Who wouldn't want true love for themselves?
Even a solitary man would crave affection.
"I-I know that. But you can't expect me to settle for less, you wouldn't want to see your dear daughter in a miserable marriage do you?"
There's a deep sigh from the other line and you could imagine your mom pinch the bridge of her nose before she spoke:
"I'm just worried, I hope you understand. I'm not getting any younger. Your older brother and sister already have their own family and seeing them happy while you're still on your own, it hurts this old woman's heart, you know?"
There's a quick succession of dull thuds from across the line and you assumed your mother was hitting her chest with her fist, ever the dramatic.
Jimin flips the newly added meat on the grill, taking the cooked strips to distribute between yours and Taehyung's bowl. It was such a small gesture yet it made your stomach flutter for a second. Always the caring and golden hearted boy you've met years ago that never hesitated to give you hugs and make you smile either with exaggerated movements or from touch alone.
If only there's more Jimin in the world, you would've been married a long time ago and you wouldn't have to deal with your mother's horrible matchmaking.
You sighed. "I know, I'm trying my best so don't worry too much."
"That's my youngest. Now, since you're trying, I have another—"
You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Mom, please."
"I swear this guy is better. He's a lawyer, 30 years old, and he's got a penthouse!"
There's a shrill ding! from your phone and you turned to look at your screen to find yourself staring back at a picture of the suitor your mother was just talking about. In a blink, Jimin and Taehyung have teleported  behind you with side dishes in hand as they peered over your shoulder to look at the photo.
The picture was roughly cropped and showed a man in a tailored black suit leaning against what looks like his mother from how similar the shape of their eyes and lips are. He had his coat hanging from his arm, giving you a full view of how his chest and shoulders filled out his white button up. With a narrow and refined jawline, topped off with good hair waxed into a small quiff and a pair of sunken dimples on each side of his bowstring lips, as an idol's makeup artist, you wondered how it is possible for him to be single.
But what distracted you more was how your mother has sent you someone visually appealing instead of the challenged men she had recommended to you. It's making the ends of the hair on your arm stand up.
It's new and it's creeping you out.
You make a mental note to ask your father about her strange behavior.
"His name is Yoo Guwon, isn't he good looking? His mother and I met at the salon by the market in front of your aunt Jia. I saw him once and he looks exactly like he does in that picture!"
"He looks good."
A hiss following a slap muted by thick clothing erupted from behind you, looking over your shoulder, you see Taehyung staring at Jimin with a shocked and betrayed expression.
"What are you doing?! You're supposed to be against this!"
"Well now that you've mentioned it," Jimin hums, crossing his arms as he leaned closer over your shoulders. "He does look like a manipulator. He has the eye and facial structure for it."
You turned to him with a puzzled expression. "What do you even mean—"
"No no no wait, I can see what you mean." Taehyung butts in, narrowing his eyes as he also inched closer to the screen on the other side of your face before reaching over to expand on the man's face.
You furrowed your eyebrows, still not seeing how a skull's formation could mean manipulator in their eyes. But before you could ask how they came to the conclusion, your mother gasped.
"Is that one of your boys? Taehyung and Jimin?"  
"Yeah, I took them out for some meat since they saved me earlier."
"Oh? Put me on speaker, I want to talk to them!" You obeyed her and hummed a confirmation before holding your phone towards them. "I hope my daughter hasn't disrupted your busy schedules to play jealous exes for her."
Jimin laughs. "It's nothing too much, auntie~ She took great care of us back then, it's just us repaying the debt! Besides, I like watching her fail her dates!"
"Oh aren't you quite mischievous?" Her tone was teasing and delighted as she giggled. "Don't enjoy it too much, okay? My daughter needs to get married soon!"
"Don't worry too much, auntie! I also want our noona to find a good husband!"
"What a sweet boy! Too bad company rules can't let you date, I would've loved you as my son-in-law."
A smile stretched across Jimin's face as he shyly laughed, hiding his delight behind a hand. "You can't say that and expect me to not try and court your daughter, auntie!"
"What about me, auntie? I sold my dignity just to push away her creepy suitors when hyung only sat back to record. I did a lot!" Taehyung jumps in with a pout, feeling left out of the conversation.
"Any of you boys are welcome in my family as long as my daughter is married and treated well! Ok, I'll stop now since I have some friends to meet up with. Visit me soon, my lovely daughter!"
After saying your goodbyes and your i-love-you's, the call ends. Immediately, your phone was fished out from your hands by Taehyung as the two boys returned to their seats, zooming in on Guwon's face and speaking in hushed whispers among themselves. At least until Jin and Jungkook's insistence to be included in the discussion came booming.
"Ya Taehyung! Aren't we friends for so long? Why are you not showing us the picture like a normal friend would do? Forward it to the GC!"
Even after forwarding the picture to the GC, they're still far from pleased after being ignored for so long. Jungkook and Jin didn't spare any words from expressing their wrath, especially the elder. A problem easily buried for everyone to forget with an offer of bringing food when they come home. Your mother expressing her openness to the idea of having any of your bosses as your husband seems to breeze past their heads. You do have an inkling they'll discuss amongst themselves later on.
Soon, Jimin and Taehyung are dropping you at your apartment building, parting ways with hugs before they leave.
Since you've finally claimed some of the absent days you've gathered throughout the years for a nice week off before the eventual tour, you decided to take full advantage of it by treating yourself with a nice night in, stuffing yourself with ice cream and an unhealthy amount of pizzas. Doors locked and blinds shut.
Just you and your TV.
And the generic drama that's playing before you.
It's about a poor girl who got rescued by a handsome rich man who has an obsessed admirer and a family who opposes their relationship despite the soulmate mark they both wore due to their different levels in society.
The trope has been overused but you indulge in it anyways.
But as the night gets deeper and the plot thickens to its climax, you find yourself slowly liking it. Watching the young couple be domestic around their apartment, your heart starts to yearn. Their kisses looked fantastical and sweet, as if the taste of each other could energize them for the whole month. 
You watched as brief passing touches scream louder than words, eyed the way their arms wrapped around waists with jealousy and wondered when you'd be able to experience such a thing too.
Emotional torture is what you're doing but you couldn't find it in yourself to stop watching it.
You remembered how realization felt like plunging into the darkest depths in the ocean, cold and harsh, the pain in your chest when your 21st passed by without any notable changes in your life. 
You recalled how you'd wake up and excitedly look over your skin for a hint everyday with no fail, hoping for a telltale sign that you weren't assigned to a fate of love bare of the genuine and rawness of a soulbond. The devastation gnawing at your dreams when your 21st ends uneventfully and the 22nd comes with the same nothingness still fresh in your mind.
There wasn't a cure for being untethered but you learned soon how to accept your fate. Having your friends comfort you through those years helped. From the maknaes' grounding tight hugs to Yoongi's silent support in the form of distractions and Seokjin's insistence on how unimportant soulmates are, healing came easier with them by your side.
Being untethered or alone isn't a disease cured by human medicine but you think your friends' support came close.
Your phone then vibrates, taking you out of the train of thought you got yourself into, screen lighting up to a message from an unknown user.
[21:39] Unknown: Hey, it's me Yoo Guwon. Your mother gave me your number and said to contact you first because you might be busy with work.
None of the suitors your mother has brought forth has ever worked out. At this point, you should ask her to stop and try to find a good man yourself.
But none of them ever made the effort to reach out first.
But he's a lawyer and you know damn well what they're good at .
He looks cute and tall though, got a good background as well.
Everyone before him also had that.
With a heavy exhale, you picked your phone up and opened his message.
[21:40] You: Hello, I'm actually on a week-long break so I'm just rotting on my couch instead haha
"That's too awkward." You muttered to yourself, subconsciously biting your lips as you rephrased the message a couple more times, frantically deleting and adding words onto your ever growing introduction message.
But then it's too wordy, it makes you sound desperate so you deleted it all again, starting once more from the beginning.
You didn't even get to send it when Guwon sent another message.
[21:48] Yoo Guwon: I'm free tomorrow, I hope you are too. What do you usually like to do?
He's giving me options? You stared at the screen with furrowed eyebrows before narrowing at it suspiciously.
What's up with this guy? Why isn't he taking the lead?
[21:50] You: I'm more often working and staying at home than visiting places so I don't know where ;-;. I'll go wherever you want to go. [21:51] Yoo Guwon: It's fine, just send me your address and I'll pick you up tomorrow at 9am, dress formal casual.
Throwing your phone to the side, you reached for the canned beer from your table and took a long sip before titling your head back to stare at the ceiling. There's a careful rise in your heartbeat, a traitorous action of your body. It was hopeful and you hated how you felt like that, you sighed again for the nth time that day but for a different reason.
Your mind takes you back to the mischievous duo, wondering if you should take one of them for this date but find yourself shutting the idea down as quick as it came. The guy looks decent enough for a solo adventure, going alone shouldn't hurt.
Maybe this time will be different.
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glotoru · 1 year
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i’m your national anthem | eren jaeger
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the note ☆ this is part two of my lana coded!eren ‘series’, see part one here. once again my soft spoken and older eren (drooling) spoiling his lovely little wife with everything he can but this time it’s at his place of work after she pays him a visit. it’s not as “cinematic” as the first part but i like this one a lot and it’s a birthday gift for myself lmao. inspired by national anthem (demo), lana del rey.
contains ☆ nsfw, fem!reader, stupidlyrich!eren, soft husband!eren, established relationship, semi-public sex (there are cameras), office sex, eren in a yummy suit, lotta praise, oral (m. receiving), handjobs, facefucking, vaginal, sex on a desk, backshots, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, panty stealing (kind of), possessive eren, he likes you in a sundress, use of pet names. black reader as always but it’s all subjective so read if you like it my loves <3
wc ☆ 4k words (it was meant to be much shorter lmao)
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eren jaeger is a successful man.
many would even stretch out as to say that he's almost won in life. he's made it on the forbes list, attended every exclusive gathering to be thrown in society, racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars in his chequing account; he's a well deserved ceo—not from start up connections, not from nepotism—eren jaeger has worked his way to the top from down below. and while he's considered to have everything a mortal man could ever dream of, eren believes his true fortune lies within you.
"mr. jaeger?" a timid voice calls from the entryway to the conference room, where a suit clad eren stands at the table's apex, which holds a stack of printed papers, with two other shareholders seated at the sides listening in on his presentation.
another thing about eren is that he likes rules—he has rules. there are rules employees know not to break; no bribes, no in house disputes, and certainly no entering his boardroom when having a meeting with his shareholders without his request. so when one of his brightest interns shifts uncomfortably under his gaze with a look of fear morphing his facial features, eren knows he’s been asked to do so by someone with more power than even him.
"i take it that my wife is here?" eren breathes, mindlessly running a hand through messy growing hair but still refusing to acknowledge the fact that you came at such an inconvenient time. "could she wait for another twenty minutes? we've almost concluded the contracts."
the sorry smile given by the intern is enough of an answer for him, "i don't think it would be appropriate for me to repeat the words she said, but she didn't give off the impression of wanting to wait long, sir."
so…spoiled.
he could already imagine how you would be waiting there; making yourself comfortable up on his desk, legs dangling in your four inch heels and tapping your nails against the glass whilst admiring the photo of the two of you on your honeymoon situated at the desks edge. of course, you would be doing this all with a small pout on your face, ready for you scold him for how long it's taken him to head back to you.
nursing an apologetic smile, he glances towards the man and woman on each side as if silently asking to resume this another time. they wave him off with small laughter, going on about keeping you happy and all the unimportant other things; eren's too preoccupied with going to see you to register their words.
he's quick making his way to the elevator, but not before swiping a single champagne coloured rose from a vase nearby; eren knows he can't show up empty handed, not with you. it's not irregular for you to come to his work so unannounced; at a random time on any given day. you strut around the office like it's yours, you make friends with the secretaries and listen to office gossip like you're one of them, and you tell his assistant all about the plans the two of you have like he doesn't already know. at this point his employees hold you in higher regard than they do him.
it's expected though; seeing how you have their boss contorted around your pretty finger.
your face lights up from it's bored expression when you hear the elevator chime. it takes four of eren's long strides to reach his office doors, and he opens it to a carbon copy of what he'd imagined only minutes ago.
"'ren!" smiling at his tall frame, you open up your arms for him to take. the smell of his rosewood cologne pronounces itself through the hug, which shortly turns into intertwined lips. "missed you." you mutter against his now gloss stained mouth, taking hold of his stubbled chin with long nails to deepen your kiss.
"i missed you too baby, got you this," he mumbles, handing you the flower before steadying his hands on both your sides, essentially baring you to his warm body, "how was your hair appointment?"
"thank you," you soften, casually dipping your nose into the welts of the rose to take in it's scent before continuing, "it was good, didn't take as long as i thought so i wanted to come say hi!" your eyes dilate to black expanses as you properly take him in. eren left early today, so you couldn't get a glimpse of him leaving the house. but seeing him now, with his hair pulled up into it's signature messy ponytail and the blue armani suit you told him buy—you could quite literally drool.
"it looks good." he takes a piece of your hair before leaving it alone. "and your dress looks real pretty on you."
grinning at his words, you shimmy out of his hold; intentionally ignoring the way his eyes follow the dips, curves and pudge highlighted by the sundress you wear. "so, i thought we could eat some food together."
for the first time since entering the room, his eyes shift from you over to the wicker basket on the nearby sofa.
you're sitting on his lap as he rests in his chair, putting some radish on the cucumber roll before feeding it to your husband, "hope i didn't pull you from anything..."
ah…
eren is a calculated man; he doesn't act irrationally. instead, he thinks—thinks for just a few seconds of possible outcomes depending on what he does. but with you? there's no need for that; you probably knew there was a high chance of him being in a meeting, if you weren't already told that by his assistant—so, as always, he chooses the answer that'll ultimately keep you happy.
"hm? nope, nothing important enough."
"oh, mkay." you nod, taking a mini donut from its cute package and popping it into your mouth. after dusting off your hands, you fiddle with the strands of hair that frame his face, “you coming home early today? we can watch that movie i was talking about—and i’ve been dying to get to properly use the theater with you.”
“let me think about it, princess—but i’ll try.” he sports a boyish smile, accepting the water bottle you hand him before watching you clean up the empty trays and takeout boxes. his words are most definitely for show, that man will be home by six instead of eight—hell, make it five.
perhaps eren jaeger truly has won at life; god…you look alluring, walking around his space with your heels like the place is your own, fragrancing the room with the scent of your lotion mixed with the perfume he gifted you. his wandering eye is fixed to your legs, catching how your dress rides up with every step taken.
“can feel you starin’ at me.” you tease in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips as you bend down to pick up fallen trash.
“good.” his long legs aid him in striding towards your frame, large hands come to rest on your hips from behind. his thumbs begin to rub soft circles on them as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “did my employees see you in this?”
“duh—i had to see them to see you,” you laugh. 
you know damn well what this is about, and you find it amusing. for the most part, your husband is a calm man; slow to anger, leans towards calmly solving disputes as opposed to growing aggressive, and when he gets agitated, he takes a break. but at the mere mention of his wife, eren seems to abandon all sensical thoughts of zen he once had. 
“any of ‘em stare?” 
“dunno.” you respond with a shrug and turn to face eren, smoothing down the collars of his outfit with your hands, “i don’t pay attention to any of them. they’re not you.”
“okay.” he makes his way back to his seat, gesturing to you to follow along. “i really do mean it when i say you look nice in that dress—well, i always mean it but…”
you’re giggling, standing in between his spread legs while looking down at him, “thanks ‘ren.”
“mhm, i’m the luckiest man in the world.”
oh…he has that tone in his voice again; the rasped one that has your legs pressing together when he speaks. it’s the kind that happens when he gets a lustful glint in his eyes—when he wants to fuck you. his hands wander up the fabric of your dress, the feeling of his cold wedding band makes you gasp and steady your hands onto his shoulders for support.
“h-hold on.”
“something wrong?” he stills, “if it’s the cameras, i’ll get the footage removed—or maybe you want me to get a copy of it?”
“nothing’s wrong.” you shake your head, but make a mental note to ask him to indeed grab a copy before deleting it, “just want you to relax for a moment—i know i took you out of that meeting.” you speak as slowly and your fingers move down his arms, keeping his eye contact as you lower your knees to the ground. “‘m sorry love, i wanted to see you for a bit.”
why are you apologizing? there’s no need for you to, there’s never been a need for you to, and eren doesn’t think he would ever make you either. 
“let me make it up to you.” 
you don’t let him get much of a word out before you’re unzipping his slacks and palming the prominent bulge that greets your eyes. his body shows it’s gratitude by sinking into your ghostly touch. eren can only breath in sharp inhales as you free his dick from it’s confinement, straightening itself out as translucent pre stumbles from the tip. you shouldn’t be shy but eren is big in every sense. and your brain seems to struggle with object permanence; eyes almost blowing open in surprise of how thick he is despite you practically owning it. the phantom ache in your jaw seems to be a warning—you shouldn’t try anything.
but eren’s presence alone overrides all alarms and commands in your brain, and the hazy look he gives you from his seat has you subconsciously wrapping your hand around his base, shifting across the length and tracing the roads and ridges of his veins with your tongue. 
he sucks his teeth when you pucker your lips at the slightly pinkish tip, feathering a little kiss before letting spit fall from your mouth and onto his cock. the dribble doesn’t make it past the head before you’re meeting it with your lips, steadily taking him into your stretched walls. the feeling of the burn from your mouth molding in indecent ways would make you wince if not for the effects eren’s soft groans and breaths have on your cloudy mind.
“such a pretty sight. p-pretty fuckin’ view.” a sigh escapes him when you hollow your cheeks. admittedly, it’s nothing like the home he knows your cunt as, but when you bottom out and his tip punches the back of your throat, it seems like the closest thing. it surely is a sight to see: a sweet woman like you, doing something so damn nasty.
your throat tightens with each bob, trying its best to prevent a gag but failing every now and then. still, you plant a hand on his knee for stability to lessen the slight burn in your knees given by the nylon carpet beneath them, and allow the mixture of precum and saliva escape your mouth and dribble everywhere. 
“oh, fuck—yeah, you got it.” he’s amazed, seeing you take him like a fucking champion, choking all over him without a single complaint. “that’s my girl.”
despite going nice and slow, you get messy—his dick fucks up your sensory system. glittery tears breach your water line, threatening to drop and roll as you sniffle away. 
eren is pulled out of his trance when your mouth escapes him, watching you with a slight furrow in his brow. you gaze at him through your pretty lash extensions, tongue unfurling out for you to tap him on. “tastes so good eren.”
“shit—don’t say that to me.” his whimpers are loud, as loud as his heaves for the same air that seems to avoid him. conscious of the chance that sound could somehow transfer, he drapes his hand across the lower half of his face and captures the guttural groan from his chest.
“you don’t need to be quiet,” your hand grabs hold of his own, carefully guiding it from his mouth to the back of your head. silently, you watch him with admirable and expectant eyes that could make him cum from the sight alone, “don’t you own this place?”
my god… you want him to face fuck you, you’re outwardly asking him to do so without a drop of shame. right until your makeup is ruined and a crying mess from how full your mouth is. he doesn’t do it often—he’s too scared of watching you cough up spit and develop a sore throat the next day for it to happen regularly. besides, eren is a pleaser—very rarely did he have you like this unless you openly wanted it. but with the look of expectation you have, sniffling and pleading for him to help you like a dutiful husband he promised to be, it’s difficult to him to do anything other than comply.
eren wants to give you a standing ovation watching you submissively relax in his tender hold. with eyes full of love, he steadily lines you up with his tip, counting you to three before guiding you down the length of his cock. your husband starts off slow, keeping a nice pace that makes it easy to inhale enough to go back down. but like all things, it grows—grows faster. hands tangle in your hair, driving your head down to meet him halfway; you gag and choke and drool out the corners of your mouth, you dig and scratch with your nails, you savour quick inhales that are quickly consumed and leave you with even less air than before. 
the tip of your nose tickles the pubic hair at his pelvis as he holds your head steady at his base. the cut off of circulation has your eyes going spotty, but the lightheadedness just feels so so so good.
upon seeing the twitch in his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, your breath hitches—he’s going to cum if you continue. whatever words you attempt to speak translates to vibration that makes his dick jump, so twice, you pat his arm. 
there’s a look of panic on his features, ignoring the mess left on his lower body and he releases you from his grasp. almost subconsciously, he pushes all traces of hair from your face, cupping you cheeks and forcing you to look at him, “did something happen? are you alright? was it too much—i’m sorry, love.”
“no.” you shake your head, moving from the position in front of him that made your knees ache and buckle. quietly, you turn your back to him, hazardly pressing your body into his desk while your hands tease up the back of your thighs, dragging the dress’s fabric along with it. “just want you to cum inside, it doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”
symphonies ring through his head: eren is sure he’s won at life—and he’s going to be selfish with it. you’re his freedom—your pussy is his national anthem, not the fucking two minute song that rings monotonely in his mind after hearing it. he can’t rip his eyes away when your dress climbs up and over your ass; it exposes your thong and it’s  practically swallowed by the folds of your pussy, which leaves a damp spot right near its entrance. 
“oh, eren…” you sigh in relief at the feeling of your hand fumbling to pull your panties to the side for your husband to see just how wet you get on the mere thought of him. your fingers are met with no friction as you slowly rub your clit, nails clacking against each other and you spread the slick that coats your cunt. 
you pull away from yourself with a string connecting your fingers to your pussy, all before giving it a few love taps once more. “‘s all yours.”
it’s all his…what a fucking lucky man. your scent has commanding control over him, clinging to his body and moving him towards you like a puppeteer and he’s the woodwork. hands rounding over the fat of your ass, he makes quick work of pulling your thong off one leg and letting it pool at your ankle. he’s not afraid to admit it: eren jaeger will die for this pussy—his wife’s pussy.
he makes quick work of you, slotting his dick within your folds, fucking himself up against your clit a few times before convening at your hole. he sheaths himself inch by inch, reveling in the soul snatching grip you welcome him with. the pulsation of your spongy walls almost bites at him—cause a stuttered moan to fall from him as he bottoms out into you.
“fuck!” you squeal at the feeling of his tip budding up against your cervix. frantically, you try to inch forward to build some space between you two. 
“nuh-uh, no fucking running,” he sucks his teeth, digging his dull nails in your hips to keep you flush against his body, “take it whole, didn’t i teach you better than that?”
“mm—mhm!” baring your eyes shut, you allow your upper body to relax into the glass surface of the desk while he finds his rhythm. but you’re at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he drags out to the hilt and buries himself back in until he’s trying to bypass your ass. his repeated strokes strikes against the soft spot at the roof of your cunt, “you’re going so fast.”
“am i—shit—am i supposed to go slow?” he asks knowingly, to which you frantically shake your head no to. had he gone any second slower, you’d be throwing a damn fit, whining about his talking too much time in teasing you and throwing yourself back into his hips instead. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”
each thrust drags out more of the milky white slick that forms a nasty ring around the base of his cock. “r-ren, you’re kissin’ me…” you whine, wiggling and writhing as you feel him reach your cervix—‘n it hurts, hurts real good and eren knows you don’t want him to stop. 
your sobs fog up the glass below, and with tear stained eyes you turn your head to look back at your husband. his pace falters when he locks your gaze—it’s hazy and pretty, your once neat waterline is now smudged against your lower eyelids, and your plump lips are in a pout to suppress what would be breathy moans to quick whimpers—all which reach his dick just the same. 
eren wastes no time grabbing a hold of your leg and hoisting it up to meet your torso on the table. the new angle gives him leeway to hit deeper—rub against his favourite spot that has you seeing stars.
“fuck, yeah—p-please eren.” you’re babbling incoherently, eyes gluing shut to give yourself some peace of mind as you shift your hips backwards to meet him halfway, “give it to me, jus’ like that!” 
oh, shit. 
your eagerness messes up his pace, making him curse at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and instead slipping up against your neglected clit.
“c’mon…put it back in.” you’re whining, rubbing your cunt all over him like the neediest thing he’s ever seen—but you’re so molded to eren; there is undoubtedly nothing else in the world that makes you feel better than the way he does.
“calm down, be patient.” his voice is smooth—firm. it pulls you down into a sense of docility; security. it almost makes you forget how you’re being defiled on the desk where he earns a living so you can wear the pearls on your neck. “you’re so good to me.” he’s mumbling, fucking himself through your folds. 
you can hear the sounds of your juices mixing, and eren giving a low groan before bottoming back into your sweet pussy that welcomes him back like a man once at war.
“baby…gonna—i’m gonna cum.” you shake your head at the inevitable—you’re already whimpering and your legs are buckling under the pressurizing buildup in your bottom torso. 
and eren? he would never deny you of anything you wanted—in fact, he loves when you cum; your body goes rigid and develops an ironclad grip on him, and your mouth hangs open in the most obscene, yet pretty, way. so he encourages you, coaxes you on by keeping steady, hitting harder. 
“f-fuckfuckfuck—fuck!” when your hand shoots down to rub and fuss and your clit, you’re done for. 
eren’s strokes don’t stop when you do. instead, he lets you ride out your high right on his dick—and you…your walls are fluttering around him. uncontrolled sobs leave your mouth as you grip onto the table for some sort of stability, “that’s it.” 
“you feel good?” he asks, moving your leg from the tabling and bringing you up to meet his body. 
your mind is so gone, you can only mirror the words of your husband, “mhm—feels good.” 
his hands grab your waist, pulling you down into the chair with him. there’s little time for you to process your surroundings before eren’s got your back flush against him, arms hooked around the back of your legs, bringing them back towards your chest. 
“you can take a little more for me, right?” he huffs, blindly navigating himself back into your hole before receiving extra aid from your fucked out self. 
truth be told, you’d take anything for eren—even when you’re crying from the sheer overstimulation you feel as he sloppily bounces you on his cock. you can only pray he cums quick, all before you truly start to get messy in his place of work. 
“give it to me ‘ren.” moaning sweetly, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and tug at the hair found in your fist, “c’mon—give me what i came here for.” 
and eren…he doesn’t like to keep you waiting. 
“fuck—you’re just the most spoiled thing aren’t you?” he moans—truly, he knows there is no one to blame but himself. and when you give him pussy this good, what else can he do?
your heeled feet clack together as eren fucks up into you with little regard for decency. his breathing is erratic, either heavy or almost laboured and still. your name is stuck on his lips—rolling around on his tongue like candy—he says it like a chant, rambling on about how only you can get him like this. shallow groans and grunts as he stills in your cunt—making sure you feel every rope of him by keeping you right on him despite your squirms.
“feel full?”
you scoff playfully, moving from your position once eren lets you, only to see a coy grin settling on his face. he’s not expecting an answer—especially when you return his smile while tugging your dress back down your legs. his eyes follow your movements, watching as you gather the picnic basket, keys to your pink porsche, and lace thong within your hands before making your way back to him.
slotting the underwear into the pocket of his blazer jacket, you whisper, “you’d better be home early, mr. jaeger.”
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pumpkinpaix · 22 days
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You have questions! We might have answers.
What is this collection?
As Maria puts it: this collection is a critical look at some of the things that we, the editors, think have made CQL such a hit around the world. Of course, part of that success comes from the webnovel MDZS and the show CQL themselves—we love the characters, the mystery, and the drama, who doesn’t?! However, the authors in our book also look at topics like translating danmei (both officially and unofficially), adapting danmei for new audiences, and interacting with fandoms and fanworks. The larger argument of the book is that all of these things played a huge role in CQL’s visibility and success, and we wanted to start making those moving pieces visible, especially for audiences who mainly watched CQL in translation.
You keep using the word “academic”—what does that mean, exactly? 
Maria: Ok, not to get pedantic here, but this actually touches on some things that I’m really excited about for the book. Traditionally, academic work is written by people who have a deep expertise in the subject (signified by having a PhD and doing specific kinds of research), and then the work itself is peer-reviewed (i.e., sent to other experts in the field for them to evaluate whether it’s sound, original, and interesting enough to publish, without knowing who wrote it). And both of these things are true about our book—our authors have deep knowledge and the book was peer reviewed—but also. We specifically asked for chapters from younger scholars and from fans who also have deep knowledge about topics that academia doesn’t always know or value enough, and we include an interview from the fan-translator K. who did the Exiled Rebels translation. So the hope is that: this book is academic, and also—more!
Who are you? 
Yue studies adaptation, fantasy, and popular culture texts using a feminist lens. She wrote an early, influential article about danmei adaptations and also has a book about feminist adaptations of Chinese fantasy.
Maria studies fanworks, contemporary fantasy, and genre literature. She’s scrambling to finish her dissertation right now.
How were the chapter spotlights chosen?
Voluntarily! The concept of a small social media promo was kicked around by some of the contributors and those interested in the idea filled out a short interview with what they wanted to share. We'll be posting about 2 introductions and 2 spotlights a day for the next week or so!
Who's running this social media campaign anyway?
Not the publishers! A few enthusiastic collection contributors got together and, with the assistance of the editors, have put this promotion together. We do not in any way represent Peter Lang in an official capacity! We just worked hard and wanted to share. :)
Are you making any money off of royalties from this book? 
LOL not even remotely
What about this promotion?
also no. alas
Where can I find this book? 
You can find our listing on Peter Lang’s website here. As for other retailers, a quick search should turn us up!  
How can I access this book if I cannot buy it from Peter Lang / [book retailer of choice]?
As collection editors and contributors who signed a legal agreement with Peter Lang, we have granted Peter Lang exclusive right and license to edit, adapt, publish, reproduce, distribute, display, and store our contributions, and we must cooperate fully with the Publisher if the Publisher believes a third party is infringing or is likely to infringe copyright in the contribution. 
That being said, these are academic papers, which means that contributors may make copies of the contribution for classroom teaching use! (These copies may not be included in course pack material for onward sale by libraries and institutions). Of course, any linking, collection or aggregation of chapters from the same volume is strictly prohibited.
(FAQ may be updated periodically!) (all posts on Catching Chen Qing Ling)
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sun-snatcher · 1 month
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[ SLUMBER ] FROM YOUR PROMPT WITH ANOMALY!READER & CHAMBIT I BEG YOU
♧ ⎯ IN-BETWEENER'S ILIAD
summ.  You slip into a dream. Remy is reminded he’s not yours. Not in a way. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader , (established in #WELUCKYFEW) a/n.  A quick blurb! A spot of world-build, angst, and soft Gambit.
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YOU TAKE UP THAT OFFER in Professor Xavier’s school.
Nothing crazy, Laura had told you. The Professor’s just looking for substitutes. Tutor on the side, maybe, for those who need a little help.
Your BioMed PhD serves you well. ( Though you didn’t quite have the proof of documents— Charles had only needed a second of a venture through your memories for the truth. “Welcome home,” is all he’d said, after. His gaze was kind. “And I am so sorry.” ) 
Falling into stride doesn’t take long. The Academy grounds are as memorable to you as the back of your hands. It’s mostly your mutant students and the nostalgia of meeting the X-Men— some familiar faces, some startlingly different— that tuckers you out.
The Professor introduces you as an alumni, funnily enough. You cover Biology; spend your days tutoring for other subjects when it calls for it— Science, Chemistry, Mathematics. School nurse in a pinch, too.
It’s no wonder Remy catches you dozing off on the chaise sofa, red pen clumsily lost on the carpet floor underneath a coffee table of scattered assignments and half-marked paperwork, household vinyl player humming by the corner.
Not an uncommon sight, lately. He usually sees you burning the midnight oil when he’s off to the pub downtown. (“Night-shifts as a Croupier. The locals love me an’ it’s honest work— jus’ a lagniappe that Gambit be enjoyin’ it, too.”)  *
He shifts to a crouch to meet your shut eyes.
“Chèr,” he whispers, trying not to startle you. “Can’t be makin’ dodo here.”  *
No answer. Your soft lips are parted. Susurrus, butterfly-wing breaths.
The jaundiced lamplight left switched on by the TV pours over you like a chiaroscuro. Sleep has you boneless with relaxation— hackles not raised and prepared for a fight; not throwing cursory glances at the shadows over your shoulders.
(War changes people. You’re still trying to get better at dismantling that habitual weariness. Logan gets it.) 
Against his better judgement, Remy tucks a strand behind your ear. 
A hum. You stir. Eyes lift heavily with sleep. 
…Gambit?
“Oui, chèr.”
Mission success? you mumble. S’everybody okay?
It takes Remy a moment to realise. 
You’re not… here. You’re lost somewhere in-between the waking world and dreaming. Unmoored between different branches of timelines; adrift in pelagic-vast realities. You’re talking to phantoms. Haunted by a Remy long gone.
Something pangs in his heart.
He can’t quite decipher it. A blur of compassion, contrition. 
…Quiet disappointment. 
“Mais oui,” he breathes. (You can feel the timbre of his hushed voice in your head. Accented. Gentle. You’re lulled, further and further.) It wouldn’t do to confuse you now, afterall.
He dips forward.
Winds an arm under your knees and your shoulders, then lifts you with gliding ease. Careful, even in his footfalls as he makes his way down the hall and to your bedroom, cradling you like glass against his chest— Safe; Secure; Impossibly tender coming from a man monikered after the Devil himself. 
Exhaustion drags you under once you sink into your pillows, feel the ghost of his warm touch linger at your nape.
G’night, Remy.
He doesn’t know who you’re speaking to, this time.
“...Sweet dreams, chèr.”
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*Cajun footnotes:
Lagniappe — extra Make dodo — to go to sleep
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