#what do all of these things have in common?

[vivelegalite]

dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.

there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...

i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears

this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!

and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)

found heaven by conan gray

the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).

2. like real people do by hozier

"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?

3. flaws by bastille

not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.

4. a pearl by mitski

you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.

the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".

5. fair by the amazing devil

this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.

the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.

6. work song by hozier

if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?

verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.

in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.

7. orpheus by vincent lima

i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.

8. francesca by hozier

(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.

as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.

the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.

"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.

the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.

to wrap it all up:

jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??

[ao3commentoftheday]

how can i start writing more often?

That's going to depend what's stopping you from doing so. I'll tackle some of the common ones and see if that helps you out.

You're working or going to school full time or otherwise have a lot of responsibilities that fill your days

Writing doesn't have to be done in large chunks of time. You can write for ten minutes and still get something onto the page. You can also write by dictating a voice note into your phone and using speech-to-text to transcribe it. When you have a day off or a larger amount of downtime, try to block off some of it for writing or for editing those speech-to-text transcripts into a more polished story.

You don't have any ideas

Seek you writing prompt blogs. Make a post on your tumblr asking for requests. Expand the type of idea you're willing to write - not everything needs to be a 100K multichap, so think of a oneshot idea and write that instead.

Every time you think about posting a fic, you get so anxious you just stop writing

Write something that you're not planning to post. Write something by hand so that you can't post it without making the decision to transcribe it and post it later. Focus on the writing instead of the possible audience reactions to the writing.

You have an idea you love, but writing all of the backstory to get you to that point is so demotivating you can't even start

Make a bulleted list of all of the backstory components that need to be in place before you can get to the part of the story you want to write. Now write the part you're actually interested in. After you write that, check in with that bulleted list and see if any of those parts are more interesting now. If they are, write those too. If they're not, you're done and can move onto the next story. You can post those criteria as your summary or author's note or tags.

You have an idea you love, but all of the research you have to do first is so demotivating you can't even start

Do you actually need to do the research? Can you write the story in a way that hand-waves things (bring in some pseudo-science or a Fantasy Costco or something to get around what you're trying to figure out). Is there someone else who has done this research already? Do you know someone who loves researching that you could get to help you out? Is the research just an excuse for procrastination because the idea isn't fully baked yet?

You spend so much time researching that by the time you're ready to start writing you don't have any time left

Do you enjoy researching more than writing? Is there someone you can partner with to write the story based on your idea and research? Do you tend to research and write in the same block of time? In that case, separate those activities out. Research until you get to a good stopping point and then write until you run out of research and need to learn more.

Every time you start writing, someone interrupts you

If the interruptions come via social media or other online means, mute your notifications while you're writing. Change your status from online to do not disturb. If the interruptions are IRL, have a conversation with your family or roommates and work out an agreement where you can get blocks of time without interruptions or where you can put up a signal that you're writing and can't be disturbed. Get a whiteboard or sticky notes or something so that people can write down what they need from you and you can check it when you're done.

Every time you try to write, you get distracted by a bunch of other things and can't actually get much writing done

If you write on a device that connects to the internet, you can get really distracted by the internet. There are lots of tools out there to block out those kinds of distractions to help you right (example). You can also try writing by hand on paper so that the internet is further away from the task.

Writing is really intimidating. The blank page taunts you.

Start by writing out your idea at the top of the page. It doesn't have to be in-depth, it can just be something like "A and B are stuck in different locations for a long period of time and they discover they're in love with each other while writing letters back and forth." By doing this, the page is no longer blank so you can fool yourself into thinking you've already started writing and just need to continue.

When I sit down to write, I don't know where you start.

If you're in the process of writing a story, try not to end a writing session on the end of a scene. Either write the start of the next scene or stop writing before you hit the end of the current scene. Then the next time you write, you have a place to pick up from and don't need to make a choice of where to go next. If you're starting a new idea, start at the point where it's interesting. You can go back and write the boring part later if you decide you really want or need to.

There are lots more things that stop people from writing, but I'll let people in the notes add more examples. If you're a writer, how do you make time for writing?

[wri0thesley]

cw: cunnilingus, not sfw, arranged marriage reader wearing a gown (no pronouns). based on this post from a few days ago. 3.1k

There's a pout on your pretty mouth that Wriothesley is utterly itching to kiss off. 

It’s an expression he’s grown rather used to on the face of his spouse; somebody as properly born and bred to society as you finds themselves a touch adrift when faced with Wriothesley’s own gruff manner, his inability to kowtow to the strictures that Fontainian society attempts to place on those who have ascended to its lofty heights. 

Unfortunately, when his availability had become common knowledge and eager parents had flocked to him in order to hawk their beloved children like so many lovely wares, he had found himself exceedingly drawn to you. To the stiff little way you held yourself and inclined your head, the way your voice had shook - the way that you hadn’t immediately tried to flutter your lashes and laugh at things that were not jokes. 

It had not hurt that your family, though fine of name and lineage, had fallen somewhat into financial difficulty. Some parents had withdrawn their offspring from the game of courtship when it had become clear that though Wriothesley now had the title of ‘Duke’, he was still at heart a former criminal, and not the genteel fawning aristocrat they had expected to find. 

(A title is not enough to take back over half a life spent in the fortress of Meropide, after all; not enough to scrub the memory of noses crunching beneath his fists, of what it feels like to end someone’s life even if it is for the greater good). 

Your family, though, had needed the boost; the Mora and the prestige. And so you had remained achingly polite and maddeningly prim and proper and so very obviously inexperienced that the sweetness of it all made the back of Wriothesley’s teeth ache. 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask him, in a soft whisper, as his hand fastens firmly but not bruisingly about your upper arm; as your husband maneuvers you away from the chatter of the ballroom. “You’ve barely greeted anyone--” 

He knows you are scandalised; that your parents have taught you to be the gracious party guest, to bow and chatter idly and wax poetic about crystal champagne glasses. But Wriothesley has spoken to Chief Justice Neuvillette (just as out of place and adrift here as Wriothesley himself), and he considers that his duty properly done. He has no desire to do the things that are expected of him. 

Not when that pout on your face - the way the light hits the glimmering petals of your lower lip - is begging to be kissed within an inch of its life, and the moonlight streaming through the windows is illuminating the curves of you in your pretty gown, and he knows that you will squirm and squeak and call him a dirty old man in that way he loves, your voice pitching with desire you’re still not sure about, the moment he has you alone at his mercy in one of the shadowed hallways of tonight’s party. 

“Just to get some air,” he says, giving a smile that’s all wolf-bared teeth to the closest gentleman who dares to give you both a briefly disapproving look. “Isn’t it just so horribly stuffy in there?”

Your nose wrinkles, between your brows creasing. Wriothesley thinks about kissing every place the flesh furrows on your face, covering you in them until you’re helpless to do anything but laugh. He always feels like a hero when he has managed a laugh out of you; you seem to give them so rarely, and it’s such a darling little bell of a noise. 

“It’s barely been ten minutes,” you settle on, the faintest hint of reproach in your voice. “It’s really not polite . . .”

What is not polite, he thinks, is the way that the run of his thoughts have turned to your dress, cut low enough to make people think indecent thoughts about you. There are no manners, either, to the fact he is thinking about the perfume he had watched you dab on this evening, and wondering how long he’d have to rut into you until the only thing that people could smell on you would be the musk of his ownership. 

“They’ll live,” Wriothesley says firmly, steering you out into the hallway. “You ought to know nobody here really wants my esteemed company.”

There’s no bitterness in his voice. Wriothesley does not want to be beloved of this particular roiling mass of humanity; the aristocracy, in his experience, is all artifice. He may spend his time with criminals, but at least the criminal underclasses are usually honest about what they want. They’ve been taught that ‘you do not get if you do not ask, do not try, do not work for it’ - these people, this gathering of society schmoozers . . . they get simply by being born. 

Of course, since he married you, there have been more invitations than before. 

Part of it is curiosity - what kind of spouse will the Duke of the Fortress take? One like him, who does not conform? Some of them want nothing more than to ogle at you and find out your secrets, poke you in your softest parts so they know if you will be a weakness that they can later exploit. Wriothesley finds these people distasteful - at least some of the invitations come from those who have already met you, who have been charmed by your pretty manners and sweet way of speaking, who are hoping that perhaps you will be some calming influence on your uncivilised brute of a husband. He still doesn’t like these invitations, of course (any event in which he is forced to put on a stiffly starched shirt and button it to his throat, to fuss with cravats and tailcoats when he’d rather stick to his own clothes, are not generally met with much pleasure for him), but at least you always seem thrilled to get them. 

It’s because of you he had accepted this one. When you had brought the invitation to him all bright-eyed and chirping, like a pretty magpie with a shiny coin, he had not been able to think of an excuse faced with you looking so utterly thrilled . . . and so he’d helped you choose a dress (he does so love you in black and red, and if he had chosen something cut low in the chest for reasons of his own, who is going to blame him when they see you?), and had travelled out of the Fortress in order to please you. 

He’d only lasted ten minutes, but perhaps after he’s pleased himself the two of you can go back out into the throes and he will have the memory of what you’ve just done to dwell on as he pretends to care about the difference between the fish fork and the dessert fork. 

“That’s just because you don’t let them see the real you,” you begin, but Wriothesley has seen what looks like a likely little hallway - secluded and dark, only one or two doorways leading off of it. He tugs at you, and though you offer a token resistance, you allow yourself after a moment to be pulled into the little alcove, and for your husband to cage you against a wall. Your breath catches, your lashes fluttering as your eyes flit to take in the breadth of him, the muscles, the way you are inescapably caught by him - and Wriothesley does not miss the desire that dances over your gaze. “Your Grace--”

“Mmm?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, lowering his face closer to yours so that he can see himself reflected in your eyes. His cock twitches at the way you bite your lip unconsciously, and he knows from the little gasp that you do not miss the sensation of it against you. “Am I doing something untoward again, sweetheart?”

He lets his voice roughen a touch on the word; the patois of the criminal flavouring it in a way that reminds you he is dangerous, and you pout so sweetly and let out the quietest little whine that he doesn’t know how he stops himself from having his way with you right then and there. There are many untoward things he would like to do to you; many untoward things he is planning on doing to you, right here, in public. 

“It’s indecent . . .” You gasp - but you still wrap your arms around his neck, and still pull him in to let him kiss you hot and hungry and fierce as a wolf. He cannot get enough of the way you taste beneath him; there is sugar that lingers on your lips even when he hasn’t seen you imbibe anything but a single glass of champagne when offered. He wants to devour you; to taste every part of you, until his mouth only remembers the lingering remnants of your own. 

You gasp, pressing your body - soft and impossibly pliable - against his wherever you can reach him, hard planes of muscle meeting the softer give of your flesh beneath your gown. 

“You seem to like it well enough,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to whisper it into the delicate shell of your ear, delighting in the way the words make you shiver. You try to school your face to sternness, but your own desire betrays you even as you try and pull your dignity around you like a cloak. 

“B-But, Your Grace, in public--”

“Mm . . . doesn’t the thrill of being caught make it seem all the sweeter?” He gives you a grin that shines like the sharks that sometimes float past the Fortress, serenely serrated. You squeak in a cross between dismay and longing as he sinks to the floor, and his big, scarred hands find the hem of your gown to begin pushing it up your ankles. 

The frills and fripperies of lace and ribbons look almost wicked, in those hands; fine, delicate concoctions of fabric and satin that were not made to be man-handled. You shiver at the thought of his grip ripping through them; of fine fabrics being rent asunder in his hands as you know he is capable of. 

“We shouldn’t--” You whisper, in that pitching whine of ‘don’t’ that is only a step away from ‘please don’t stop’.

His palms - he will not even grudgingly wear full gloves - feel cool, even through your stockings, as he slides them up your calf. His chuckle is a rough-spurred thing, and before you can say anything further he has disappeared beneath your skirts entirely, and you find yourself clinging to the moulding on the wall behind you to try and get some semblance of purchase. 

He tugs at one of the ribbons that keeps your stockings held up, and from the hot puff of air against your bare thigh, you know he has done so with his teeth. Your pulse flutters in your throat, your vision fair spotting with the mixture of feelings that Wriothesley’s actions are drawing forth from you - desire and shame and wanting and need and unsurety, all mixing together inside of you in a cocktail of arousal so potent you barely know how you stand it. 

A wet, open-mouthed kiss is pressed to the spot above your stocking, on your bare thigh. You feel the graze of his teeth against the soft skin, unseen by anyone aside from him. Unmarked by anyone aside from him (you have learnt that the Duke is very fond of using his teeth, during his bed-chamber escapades; you have learnt more at his mouth and his fingers and his mercy than you had ever thought that you would have cause to know). 

Wriothesley’s cock is so hard in his too-tight formal trousers that he can barely think of anything but the pulse between his thighs, but the moment he has his head beneath your skirts and he can scent your arousal on the air, all thoughts of tending to his own almost-painful erection instead turn to tasting you, smelling you, burying himself inside of you until you are a helpless mess. 

He knows that logically you taste, probably, of the oils and the powders and the lotions you use, on your skin and in your bath. Perhaps a touch of your own sweat - but to Wriothesley, the taste that lingers on the tip of his tongue as he takes his time kissing up your thigh, working towards the apex between them, is nothing short of ambrosial. He can hear his own breaths, hard and panting, but he has never been the kind of man who lets himself feel shamed for doing what he wants. 

“You’re dripping,” he grunts, and the muscles in your thighs jump, tensing, as if you’re cringing at what he has said - and though he cannot see you from his place beneath the skirts of your gown, he can gladly imagine the expression on your face. You’re darling. He wants to kiss you until you can’t breathe and fuck you until you can’t walk; but for now . . .

He settles by kissing over the softness of your mound, letting his hot breath once more fan out over that most intimate part of you. He hears you whine again from somewhere above him;

“Wriothesley, you’re being obscene . . .”

He lets his mouth fully envelope your cunt; lets his tongue lathe out across your folds, flickering against your clit in a way that makes you violently jerk. The moan that you let out is muffled - one of your own (gloved, as is right and proper in society) hands has flown up to your mouth. Though he will miss the sound of your enjoyment unencumbered, he supposes it is better for privacy if you at least make an attempt.

“So you want me to stop?” He growls, the taste of your slick lingering on his tongue, honey-thick and just as sweet. To drive in the point of what you would be missing, he lets himself give your clit - the swollen nub standing to attention, as if begging him for more - a kitten lick. 

“Don’t even think about it, you scoundrel,” you say, whisper-soft and gasping, and Wriothesley knows you cannot possibly fail to sense the curve of his lips against your cunt. 

“As you wish,” he says. “Never let it be said that I don’t take my duties as a Duke and a gentleman seriously.”

And he returns to his task with voracious excitement. 

He has done this to you before, but never in public - never with you standing, never with the threat of discovery looming over his head . . . he finds he does indeed quite enjoy the thrill, so he takes his sweet time exploring your folds with his tongue, letting himself be even wetter and messier than he’d normally be. 

The sound is indeed obscene, as he delves the tip of his tongue between your folds - as he finds your pulsing entrance and toys with it, slipping just a little of the flexible muscle inside of the channel until he feels you try and clamp down on it, before he returns to the wet circling of your fluttering hole. 

His nose presses directly into the softness of your mound, grinding against your clit with every slight adjustment of his head. Normally, you’d at least be able to tug on his hair as he did this (and he’s rather fond of that too - the way you do even that so neatly, so apologetically), but now you are entirely at his mercy and it is obvious from the tremble in your thigh, as if you are going to swoon to the floor at any moment. 

You shift to rest more against the wall and Wriothesley takes that as an excuse to manhandle you - he takes one of your thighs and slings it over his shoulder, unbalancing you but for a moment - but giving him far better access to the spot between your legs. 

Far easier, like this, for him to use thumb and forefinger to tease the lips of your labia apart and to settle his mouth around the pearl of your clit. 

You jerk in surprise again, more soft muffled whimpering coming from above. He can make out a few of the words - ‘scoundrel, rake, you filthy pervert, Wriothesley Your Grace please don’t stop--’

He is not a cruel husband, so he does not. 

Your clit, pulsing with need, is drawn into his mouth - and Wriothesley takes great pleasure in suckling upon it the way that one might a particularly delicious candy, his tongue lathing over and over and over. You squirm in his grip, and he imagines your face as it always is when you are close to the edge. You tremble and sweat and shake for him and Wriothesley needs you to fall apart like he needs air. 

He redoubles his efforts; his other hand clenches on your inner thigh, his forefinger finding the pulsing, clenching hole of your sex. As he sucks, he gently inserts just the tip of it inside of you, and oh, you are greedy for more than his mouth--

You come with a strangled cry that is not quite caught by your glove - a clamping of your thighs around Wriothesley’s ears, and a gush of wetness that Wriothesley is more than happy to let flow into his open mouth and down his chin, to stain the collar of his starched white shirt.

When your aftershocks are over - when you are trembling not so violently, and he trusts you to stand on your own two feet, he presses a kiss to your cunt before he returns your leg to the ground.

He disentangles himself from your skirts, his knees only aching a little - nothing, really, compared to the inescapable pulse of his cock where it’s longing to be pressed hot and deep inside of you. He does not bother wiping his mouth of your release - and when you see him, his face shiny and wet with the proof of your enjoyment, you huff in embarrassment and avoid his gaze. 

You’re the sweetest little thing, he thinks again fondly. Even though you had moments ago been rutting against his mouth like the most brazen and desperate creature in Teyvat . . . now, faced with the proof of what you’ve done, you’ve gone over all proper again. 

Deftly and firmly, he takes your chin in his hand and presses a kiss against your mouth, making sure your own taste lingers on the soft petals of your lips. He makes sure he takes full control of it; that it is a press of his ownership of you like his seal pressing into wax on the missives he writes down in the depths of the Fortress. If only you knew just how much of him you owned in turn. 

“I think,” he says, his voice thick, “I feel much improved. And you were right, sweetheart, about it being rude to leave a party so quickly. Should we return back to the ballroom?”

[erodasfishtacos]

Give You Some Sugar

prompt: when yn meets h at a club and quite a few unexpected things happen in a short amount of time 

word count: 9k

author’s note: hiiii. there are currently six more parts of this available on my patreon 😗

you can subscribe for $3 USD a month 💓

+

Y/N finally had the night off.

No charity events, dreadful business dinners, or exclusive invite-only clubs where she had to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

The smile on her face forced enough that her jaw and cheeks ached by the end of the night by how much of a farce she’s putting on.

A twinkling giggle accompanies every stupid joke that is told.

It’s mind-numbing to pretend that she is an airhead who doesn’t understand any aspect of what these businessmen discuss during their dinner.

Though she does, she wasn’t stupid and she knew that the offshore accounts to funnel tax money and avoid payouts were illegals - especially considering the fact that they were not talking about chump change but millions and sometimes billions of dollars.

As they spoke of this right in front of her, in an exclusive back room of a five-star restaurant most of the time without a care because they thought that she just simply could not understand their discussions.

YN had to drop out during her last year of college.

Her financial aide ran short and she didn’t have anything in her bank account to cover the difference.

It’s mostly why she’s in the work she does now, trying to save up to get back in to finish her last year but it’s been pushed off for a few years now.

She thought that she would immediately get out of this line of work the second she got that number she needed in her bank account, it did not work out that way.

No job she could get right now would pay even comparably to what she gets now for simple dinners and events with rich men.

Quitting this job would send her right back into struggling to pay rent or her car note, she grew up living that way.

She didn’t want that for herself ever again which is why she has been saving nearly every penny that comes her way to get a hefty enough savings that she won’t have to worry - at least for a while.

++

She could do with a pair of strong, smooth hands around her waist - guiding her hips into deep and playful grinds as music pounds much too loudly around them, only lost in each other.

Not the swollen, wrinkly ones that she had to lightly hold like she was enjoying them or the too tight grip on her hips when they had to slow-dance at galas with classical music coming from a live orchestra.

She hasn’t had any type of dating life since all this had started.

Not so surprisingly, most men didn’t enjoy sharing their girlfriends nearly every night.

And the term sugar baby scared every potential suitor away which had in all honesty made YN give up very soon after - realizing no matter what year it is, there’s definitely a stigma around what she does.

Y/N needed to feel young again.

Hell - she was twenty-five but the crowd she was around most of the time was sixty-five and above.

She had nothing in common with these men that she spent her time with, very rarely did they have any similar interests or something that they could talk about for more than a few minutes without the conversation withering.

For the most part - she enjoyed being a sugar baby.

It was a lot of cash upfront or in her banking app, gifts, free dinners, and all-expenses paid vacations.

She charged men for her time and appearance.

Laid out flat to them during their initial meeting - she would not have sex with them.

It was non-negotiable, no matter how much money they offered her, she would turn it down and remind them that if they tried it again, she had no problem terminating their contractual agreement that they’re currently not following.

There was no judgment for anyone who did sleep with their clients.

YN found that she made more than enough without that aspect that it wasn’t necessary and it just wasn’t for her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it for any amount of money.

-

YN finally had a night off where she could go to the club without any obligations, just with her friends.

No man to hang onto, to follow around like a puppy, or to always have a fresh drink in hand for them.

Sophie was behind her, one hand on her waist and a drink in her other as they swayed together - always scoping out the people around them and having enough fun with each other to let the night fly by.

Until was a beefy, meathead starts checking Sophie out from a barstool.

His eyes were watching her friend with a focused smirk on the corner of his lips, and his foot was tapping against the floor in rhythm to the music that was pumping through the club.

“You have a suitor!” YN shouts over the music, subtly nodding toward the man who her friend hadn’t noticed yet.

He was Sophie’s type to the tee with a flannel button-up, some type of cowboy boot, and beard.

Her friend makes eye contact with the man finally, after he’d been waiting for her to finally notice and now he takes it as permission to get up from the bar stool to stride over to her and ask her for a dance.

YN leaves them to it, not wanting to block a chance of Sophie having some luck finding someone to go home with tonight after she’d been complaining about a dry spell.

Not wanting to lose sight of her, YN goes back to the bar and slips into the seat that was just occupied by the man who was currently pulling her friend into his chest to dance.

When asked, she ordered a jack and coke, she wasn’t much of a drinker which meant that she’d most likely sip on that for the rest of the time that she was here, and she could make sure Sophie was safe which would be hard to do if she was drunk.

Someone slides up next to her, bumping her shoulder harshly enough that it makes her gasp, and the man doesn’t even apologize before he’s grabbing the bartender’s attention with an obnoxious, rude snap of his fingers, “Make that two.”

He didn’t sound drunk or belligerent, that just made it even more odd that he didn’t apologize for bumping into her but maybe he just assumed that it’s normal for that to happen at such a tightly cramped bar.

After a moment, she finally looks out of the corner of her eye.

However, it’s not enough because she's surprised by what she sees and she turns her head to get a full view of what was standing right beside her.

He was broad, that was the first thing that she noticed, was how wide his shoulders were as he squeezed between YN and the patron on the other side of him.

The broadness tapered off into narrow hips and lean thighs but his body was athletic, strong, lithe, and everything that YN had been dreaming of when she’s holding hands with men who were the opposite of what she was looking at right now.

He had stunning, cropped brown curls, a bit of scruff on his face like he hasn’t shaven in a few days, and golden skin from being in the sun - not a tan he could have acquired in London, that’s for sure.

The man was dressed in black silky button-up that was open enough to display the definition of his chest, a gold cross hanging between his pecs.

The shirt what sheer enough that his abdominal muscles were being shown-off until the band of his black trousers covered them right above his belly button but enough to see that trail of sparse hair leading to it.

Her chest tighten when he turns his head to meet her staring gaze, he’s caught her checking him out, and she knows based on the way his lips turn up, and deep dimples indent his cheeks.

“Mind a drink on me, darling?” He tilts his head and smiles wolfishly, purposefully flashing a black Amex between two fingers before tossing it carelessly the shiny oak bar like it was worthless.

Show off.

It didn’t do much to impress her, not when she was constantly surrounded by some of the wealthiest men in the world, a single credit card wasn’t something to have her drooling over him.

“Knock yourself out,” She shrugs with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat bored tone, letting him know through her facial expressions that she wasn’t nearly as impressed as he would like her to be, as most girls probably are.

“I’m Harry,” he puts out his hand, rings twinkling in the dim light and a cross inked on the crook of his hand.

It was the type of hand that she’d been fantasizing about on her body when she dances with her clients.

They were big, strong, and had veins protruding against the smooth skin that for some reason made her start to feel hot because she wanted those hands on her right now.

“YN,” She replies, trying to keep herself in check.

The firmness of his grip sends a tingle down her spine, his long fingers wrapping around hers, squeezing firmly enough to prove a point, and she tugs back her hand when she realizes she has been holding his hand for a tad too long.

She has been on too many dates in the last three months to count but hasn’t gotten laid in a year, if not longer.

And until now, she hadn’t felt that desperate to change that, and didn't bitch about dry spells like Sophie did.

When Harry laughs at her for holding his hand for too long, she’s a fucking goner, and she doesn’t know what’s making him feel so magnetic.

Her body realized it as she watched his hand grip the glass, suck a thumb into his mouth when a splash of liquor spills over - pink tongue peeking out of his puffy, pink lips.

Their conversation goes smoothly and he definitely wins points with YN when he looks out for Sophie when she trots over to the bar to tell her that she’s going to leave with that lumberjack-looking fellow named Josh.

Harry had judgmentally looked Josh up and down with an unimpressed but indifferent expression before saying, “Send a picture of your driver’s license to YN before you leave so she knows exactly who you are and where you live if there’s an issue.”

Josh doesn’t seem bothered, actually digs his driver’s license out of his wallet, and hands it over to YN, who does snap a picture of it - surprised she had never thought of doing that before now but would definitely from here on out.

Sophie is a bit confused, clearly wondering if YN and Harry knew each other based on just how assertive he was being, acting like he had any right to make demands of a man of a girl he didn’t know.

“You good?” Sophie whispers in her each as she hugs her before leaving.

“A hundred percent. I’ll text you later. You do the same?” YN murmurs back as she squeezes her friend tight - hoping Josh works out for her tonight but he seemed like an alright dude.

They part after that, Sophie taking Josh’s hand and nearly dragging him towards the door with eagerness - YN watches until they’re out of sight and turns back to the man next to her.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks after the final sip of his mixed drink.

It was just the way that he was looking at her, with such intensity and interest, it made her feel like there was a hot spotlight right on her in front of a crowd, and she wanted to look away but she couldn’t break their eye contact.

“Customer service for an office supply chain, you?” YN lies smoothly, she’s said it enough times that there’s not a hint of uncertainty to give her away.

It was her go to job - she wasn’t going to tell a random person she was a sugar baby and the job description she gave is boring enough for them not to ask questions or really care to know more.

“Just a boring job in IT,” Harry shrugs, not divulging more information than that as he once again, rudely snaps his fingers at the bartender for another round before starting to ask, “What do you-“

“Are you going to take me home or no?” YN interrupts bluntly, she was never typically this forward - really she’s never been this upfront before.

However, the back and forth of meaningless conversation was driving her to the point of insanity because all she wanted right now was his hands on her and she doesn’t know if she’d ever been as aroused as this from just small talk.

No, with certainty she’d never felt this much sexual attraction to someone else in her life.

Harry’s eyes narrow at her like a predator locked on prey.

The smile that had almost been permanently etched on his lips for the last hour was gone and his jaw was flexing under the thin skin there that she wanted to sink her teeth into.

As soon as the new glass of jack and coke was in front of him, he picks it up, and takes two long gulps before the cup is empty and he’s bringing it back down against the bar.

YN can’t help it when she leans forward to brush a droplet from the corner of his mouth.

Her heart is absolutely pounding when his hand comes up to capture her wrist, eyes intent of her face as he moves her hand until her thumb with the alcohol on it brushes against his lips.

He brings it into his mouth, to suck the liquid off of the digit before nipping it, pulling it back out to rub against his bottom lip for a minute.

YN knew her lips were parted in surprise, arousal, and disbelief at how utterly attractive the man in front of her was with such a simple but filthy move - she craved more of it.

“Do you want me to take you home, pup?” Harry asks with that same head tilt from early, like he doesn’t know the answer, and he brushes his nose against the inside of her wrist.

“I don’t think I was unclear. Don’t make me repeat myself,” YN’s voice is tight and thick but she isn’t going to give him control from the start - already knowing Harry will be up for a challenge by the way he holds himself - cock sure.

That has him letting out a low, dangerous chuckle that almost sounds like a growl at the taunts, “Oh, that’s how you want it, sweetheart?”

YN was feeling brave and nearly insane with a warm arousal in her stomach.

She reaches out and runs a purposeful hand across his lap.

A confident smile gracing her face when she palms at him, his cock twitching and plumping up embarrassingly easy for her which makes her let out her own mean chuckle at what he can’t hide or control of his body.

His strong, massive hand is coming to stop her.

Her hand twinges in light pain at his rings digging into her skin as he wraps his fingers around her wrist again, this time pulling until she’s nearly stumbling off her stool but able to right herself at the last moment.

She goes forward, a bit clumsily and meets his hard chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” He warns, bringing her wrist back up to kiss at where his rings left light indents.

“Are you all talk? Or are you going to -“ Because she can’t help herself, she wants to get him as riled up as possible so that he’ll give her all he’s got because she hasn't had excitement like this in well - ever.

YN’s cut with a rough pinch to her thigh and his mouth at her ear, low and firm, “Get your shit and let’s go, now.”

She moves to put on her jacket, Harry apparently finding that she isn’t doing it quickly enough because he knocks her hands away and puts it on her himself before being led out of the club without a second glance back.

As soon as they’re in the taxi, YN is so hazy with want that she doesn’t think twice before straddling his lap and grinding down.

He’s firm, warm, and smells like he just walked out of a cologne advert for Tom Ford.

Her lips finally make it to where they’ve wanted to be all night, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, and huffing in frustration when his hands grip her hips, stilling her movements and ending any friction that she was getting.

“You need to be a good girl and wait. I’m not fucking you in the back of a cab,” Harry hisses, grips her jaw like he can do whatever he wants to her because he can right now, pulling her back with a stern look.

“Don’t need to fuck in here, I just want-“ YN begins, trying not to flush at how needy she sounds and how much her demeanor has changed from sitting at the bar a few minutes ago.

He literally had her in the palm of his hand and he fucking knew it.

“I’m going to stop you there, pup,” Harry cuts her off, still holding her chin, and his eyes are twinkling with something playful but serious, “It’s not about what you want, is it? Are you a selfish thing, hm?”

“No,” YN gasps when he brings his hand down, finding her bud over the thin material of her underwear but under her skirt, just tapping at it with no real pressure, “I’m not, I swear. I just want to-“

A sharp pinch replaces the intermittent taps, her legs twitching as an even mixture of pain and pleasure shoot up her spine, “You’re not a very good listener either, are you?”

Fucking hell.

YN can now say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s never been more turned on than this in her life.

The submission that was melting through her body was new to her.

She’d never whined, pleaded, used such a voice before but it felt natural to meet his dominance.

Her mind was spinning and she wanted him to take care of her, tell her what to do, and instead of being scared because she’d never wanted anything like this before, it felt like she was falling but it felt freeing.

“Please,” YN says because she forgets the question that he asked already, anticipating the switch between taps and pinches that keep her body taut on top of him.

Harry loosens his hold on her chin, surprisingly gentle as he tilts it down to get a better look at her, and his face softens for the first time all night, “Jesus Christ, look at you. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that? Look how gone you are already. S’fucking adorable.”

She wants him to kiss her, so bad but he’s keeping his lips right out of her reach.

YN obviously didn’t know Harry before tonight but the amount of chemistry between them felt like they’ve done this together a million times.

There was no embarrassment on YN’s end over how much she was just folding for him and there was no hesitance in Harry taking control of everything.

“You’re being mean,” YN accuses as he pushes her underwear to the side, only to trace his fingertips along the outside of her folds, petting at the wetness before smearing it over her lips and leaning forward to lick it off but not quite kissing her.

“You’re cute,” Harry laughs as he presses his thumb between her folds, parting them, and finally giving a few harsh rubs to where she needed the friction the most, “You haven’t seen anything yet, darling. Now relax until we get to mine.”

**

The line of townhouses where Harry lives, well YN is familiar with because quite a few of her clients live in them.

They were in the heart of London, old brick structures that had five or six floors, she couldn’t remember, and they cost more than what most people could even dream about making.

It’s no surprise how beautiful the interior is, if not a little too basic and boring like he’d just hired a designer to make it look sophisticated and modern without adding even a single touch of himself to the home.

Harry walks her into the house, body pressed up right behind her, and he runs his lips against the nape of her neck after pushing her hair to the side, “Do you need anything first? Drink, food, bathroom?”

YN shakes her head, allowing Harry to start removing her coat, “No.”

“Do you know your colors?” Harry murmurs, his voice softer and serious, like he wasn’t trying to be sexy right now but wanted a real answer.

For a moment, YN blanks because of course she knows her colors, she’s a grown woman but then wants to smack herself when she realizes what he’s actually asking about.

She did know.

She tried a few things with a previous boyfriend where they discussed safe words but never needed to actually use anything except ‘green’ because it never got far enough to need any others.

“Yes, red means stop, yellow means check-in, green means good to go,” YN recites as he turns her around, walking her back into a wall, and just surrounds her with every part of him.

“Smart girl,” Harry agrees, rewarding her with a squeeze to her hip, “Not that I plan for us to do anything crazy tonight. We just met. I just want you to be able to express where you’re at and know we can stop at any time, okay? Is this something you’re comfortable with doing? If it’s not, we can totally have-“

“Just shut up and do something,” YN complains, already feeling a bit spoiled as she appreciates his reminders but god, she wants this so much - can he not see that?

A wicked smile lights up on his face, her hand moving from her hip all the way up her side until it’s resting on the side of her throat, running his thumb over the hollow of her collarbones.

She leans in for a kiss but frowns when he stops her.

“Beg,” he demands, voice impossibly deeper than before.

YN lets a surprised chuckle slip, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want me to beg to kiss you?”

She didn’t want to admit how fucking hot she actual found that.

“You’re going to do a lot of it tonight, pet,” Harry tells her, unwavering in what he’s asking and not breaking eye contact, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you beg pretty f’me.”

“Please,” She replies, swallowing hard, watching him carefully.

“Please what?” Harry replies with a displeased wilt of his lips, it’s odd how it makes her heart drop like she’s doing something wrong and she instantly wants to make it right.

“Kiss me,” YN breathes, eyes darting between his eyes and mouth, she was breathing heavily like she’d just run a marathon - sweat already beading at her temples.

“Good girl,” he rewards automatically, nodding his head, and pressing their hips tightly together when he takes another step forward.

YN doesn’t know why because never in the past has praise made her stomach flip but when he told her she was good, it felt like he’d just given her the highest compliment of all time.

He dips down and connects their mouths, it’s surprisingly sweet for a moment as he gently goads her into opening up so that he can take control, and it only makes sense that he’s skilled.

Harry’s hands are moving once again, to her shirt, and YN lifts her arms up to give him permission which he takes, pulling back to yank it roughly over her head like he couldn’t get it off her fast enough.

“May I?” He asks as his fingertips dance along the lace of her bra.

His voice hasn’t changed from the stable and calm which was the exact opposite to the chaotic frenzy that had overtaken YN’s brain.

“Yes,” YN agrees, reaching behind herself to begin to unclasp her bra which earns a pinch to her hip.

“I didn’t ask you to take it off, did I?” He rumbles as YN’s hands fall back at her sides, allowing him to reach around her to without any struggle unclasp the latch of her bra and he drags it down her arms, tossing it to the floor.

YN feels embarrassed for a moment because she was standing in front of the most attractive man she’s ever seen in her life, let alone somehow managed to get to take her home, and he’s probably seen his fair share of beautiful people.

It’s instinct to move to cover herself.

“What’s that for?” Harry frowns as he notices her arm moving up, his voice is softer than it’s been all night, gentle and cautious, “What’s your color?”

“Green,” YN responds immediately, “I just…I’m being stupid.”

And her heart is sinking because she feels like she’s killing the entire mood with her insecurity that she’s never had quite like this before but standing in front of him was….a lot.

“You’re not being stupid, it’s okay, pup,” Harry soothes, his hands coming to rub at her forearm before he’s gently tugging them away, his eyes glued to her chest as it’s revealed once again.

“This is what you wanted to hide from me and you call me mean?” Harry huffs as he cups them, fitting perfectly into his hands as his thumbs come to brush where her nipples are already pebbled from the chill in the room, “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, darling. God, I could stare at you forever and never get bored.”

YN has to remind herself that it’s all talk, this is what people do at random hookups, say things that they will forget in the morning because they were meaningless - Harry wasn’t doing anything more than that.

“I need more,” YN whimpers because the way he was teasing at her nipples with light swipes of his thumbs, not giving anything more than that, she felt like she was going to go insane when he leaned down to swipe his tongue around both of them to get them harder before pulling back, she tacks on, “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely. I guess I could give you a little more,” He hums thoughtfully, moving to roll them between his forefinger and thumb, giving enough of a pinch that it makes her gasp.

YN realizes that’s all he’s going to give her, a little bit more, but still not enough.

Now it’s clicking, she’s going to have to ask, scratch that, beg for anything she wants.

Even though he’s the one being dominant, she actually has all the control.

She’s not used to talking so much during hookups, let alone having to ask for what she wants but if that’s what she had to do to get more from him - well that’s what she’s going to do.

“Harry, I-“ YN’s mind blanks for a moment when he gives a particularly good twist as he sucks a mark into the underside of her jaw, “I need more, I’m so wet.”

It was the truth, she needed friction, touch, something.

“You’re wet? Why didn’t you say so, pet?” Harry teases, acting like he’s surprised by her words, “Gonna let me take this off you? Let me see what else you’re hiding from me?”

“Yes, take it off,” YN agrees breathlessly, hand coming to balance of his shoulder when he unzips her skirt, kicking it off her ankles when it falls to the floor, and catches Harry staring at her once again.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How did I manage to get you to come home with me, baby?” Harry asks but it doesn’t sound teasing or like a line as he snaps the elastic of her thong against her skin.

YN knows she’s not in charge but she isn’t thinking before she’s stepping forward and leaning up to kiss him, her hand cupping his jaw because even just for a moment, she wants his mouth again.

He’s definitely surprised by the action but not unpleased, kissing her back and taking the lead again by moving her how he wants her, and he allows it for a long moment before pulling back, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Just wanted a kiss,” YN tells him, hand still on his face.

“Wanted a kiss, hm? You’re the sweetest thing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles as he pulls her back in for another, brushing their lips together, biting at her bottom lip, and then soothing it with his tongue, “You’re so good, you know that?”

It seems like the sharpness from earlier, the more demanding dominance has faded into something much sweeter which YN enjoys just as much as she enjoyed how their encounter started, this was just as good.

Harry’s hand moves down the center of her sternum, drifting left to tweak her nipple once more before starting to drag down her belly which has her sucking in when goosebumps break out on her skin.

“Love how you react to me,” Harry murmurs, kissing along her jaw as he hooks the band of her underwear under his thumb, “Know you’ll be so pretty for me when I’m touching you, yeah?”

“Then touch me,” YN bites out, her arousal was swirling at a vicious quell in the pit of her stomach and she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get relief soon, she wasn’t used to being teased like this, she was on fire.

Harry laughs meanly, hand quick as it moves to part her folds and press firm circles on her clit, “Oh darling, just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean that I’m not in charge. You’re not tough, not with that way you’re dripping on my palm.”

The thing is, Harry isn’t all talk because he finds her spot in less than five seconds when he slips down to push two fingers into her and crook them towards himself, his palm coming to lie flat against her clit to give her friction.

“Ride ‘em for me,” Harry tells her as he still them inside of her, eyes flickering between her face and center like he’s spoiled for choice.

YN doesn’t feel any of that earlier embarrassment, she feels empowered now as she bears down before pulling back up, short ruts of her hips because they’re still standing and she can only do so much.

She moans loudly when he presses the heel of his palm more directly against her which leaves her torn between grinding forward or moving up and down on his fingers because both feel so good.

“Listen to me,” Harry reminds her sternly, it doesn’t need any further explanation because he’d already told her what he wanted and the self-indulgent figure eights of her hips weren’t conducive to that.

YN struggles not to grind forward to give her clit the friction that it’s craving but it feels amazing every time he strokes against her spot too.

She’s definitely never been with someone who’s been able to make her feel like this.

“Oh, look at that pout,” Harry coos, his free hand coming up to pull at her jutted out bottom lip and drag it down, “You spoiled little thing, s’embarassing how much I’m willing to let slide right now.”

The last sentence was quieter, almost like he was saying it to himself but she can’t dwell on that for much longer because she feels the tightness in her stomach start to ball up in anticipation.

“I’m close, Harry,” YN mewls as she starts to grind her hips forward again and ignoring his prompts from earlier, she was being selfish now in chasing her relief that she’s been craving.

“Well you’re not coming because you can’t seem to listen very well,” Harry replies as he pulls his hand out from her underwear, the elastic causing a mark on his hand where it’s been stretched taut around his wrist.

YN whines when that building of sensation begins to fizzle out.

She’s never been denied like this before.

It was usually quite the accomplishment when a guy could get her there in the first place.

Now Harry was making it seem simple to get her to the edge, simple enough that he didn’t care about taking it away from her either.

“No, no,” YN gasps when her legs start to feel unsteady from how much she’d been tensing them previously, there’s no stopping the tears that are stemming at the corner of her eyes now.

Harry’s expression changes once again, the dominance and teasing dissipating into something sweeter as he brings her into his chest, kissing the apples of her cheeks as he sweeps a few hairs off her face.

“S’okay,” He simpers, it isn’t teasing or condescending, “No used to being denied, are you?”

YN shakes her head, basking in the way his hands are rubbing at her sides, massaging at her hips.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Without a second thought.

The brightest green possible.

Maybe the green of his eyes.

“Can I take you to my room?” Harry asks softly, pulling back to study her face and swipe over cheekbones where she knows she’s overheated.

“Please,” YN replies, taking his hand when he holds it out.

As they walk through the expanse of his home, up the flight of stairs, she realizes just how dressed he is in comparison to her - everything but his jacket still on as his boots click against the hardwood floors.

His room is similar to the rest of the home, barely lived in with not even a picture to make it seem homey.

The colors were dull neutrals of beige, tan, white, and not one thing that made it seem like he slept here every night - even the bed was made with tight lines and tucked corners.

It was beautiful, all of it, expensive-looking but not for a home, maybe for a hotel.

The only sign of him was the closet that was open, rows of neatly hung and organized clothes lining the walls to show that this was in fact a lived-in space.

YN sits on the edge of the bed as Harry moves around to turn on a few of the lamps before turning off the brighter overhead.

He comes to stand in front of her, his hand coming down to cup her face once again, he’s looks mesmerized by her, the way his eyes are tracing over every single one of her feautres, “I want you so much.”

YN’s breathing hitches, getting caught in her throat for a moment becuase he says it with such intensity and she truly can feel how much he means it.

It’s too intimate for a one night stand.

All of this has been already.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” YN tells him honestly, it’s not that she didn’t enjoy the teasing.

No, she absolutely loved it.

She could imagine a whole day laid up in bed with him, letting him play with her however she wanted but now wasn’t the time, the need was too intense to have the patience for that.

His lips tilt up at that, “Don’t think I could say ‘no’ to you even if I wanted. Caught me ‘round your finger, haven’t you? Impossible not to be gone with your beauty, if I’m honest. Everything about you.”

It’s all talk, YN reminds herself.

All part of the give and take of a one-time hookup.

YN moves to begin to undress him but he bats her hands away, moving much quicker to rid himself of his clothes, and though his shirt hadn’t left much to the imagination - it’s still startling to see how fit he is.

His muscles quite literally ripple as he bends down to rid himself of his trousers, as he tucks his thumbs into his briefs, and shimmies them down his lean thighs without an ounce of insecurity like YN have.

There was no world where he’d need to be insecure, not with how defined and beautiful his body was, the tattoos just the icing on the cake to what was already breathtaking.

When she reaches out, without even thinking to wrap her hand around him because that part of him matches the attractiveness of the rest of him - unfair that he’s so magnificently built and has a length to match.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, moving to lay her hand flat on his abdomen, shaking his head, “Tonight’s about you, pup. What do you want?”

YN lets her hand wander over the expanse of his stomach, dipping into the ridges of hard muscle until she’s met with the softer, plush of his hips, and repeating the process over and over.

“Puppy,” Harry laughs fondly at her distractedness, tapping her on the nose to get her attention.

The laugh stops when YN leans forward to press her lips against his warm skin, appreciative kisses smeared against the butterfly on his upper stomach, the light sprinkling over hair by his bellybutton.

“How-“ Harry’s breathing heavier now, voice not sounding as confident for a moment until he clears his throat and sounds more steady, “How do you want it, darling?”

YN pulls back, albeit unwillingly, and it’s a hard question.

Now she’s spoiled for choice.

But there’s one thing that she cannot get out of her head.

“I want to ride you,” YN decides finally, lifting her hips when Harry finally gets her thong off, wriggling the tight fabric off the thick of her hips and thighs before he’s adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“I-“ Harry’s voice is unsteady again, “Are you sure? I can do the work, pet.”

“It’s what I want,” YN tells him with an unwavering gaze.

“S’what you’re going to get then,” Harry rumbles in agreement, surprising her when he sits next to her on the end of the bed, fully expecting him to shimmy up towards the middle to splay out.

He tugs her onto his lap until she’s straddling him with knees pressed into the mattress on either side, and chest squished up against his.

His hands move to cup her bum, moving to situate them just right but YN is too impatient for the careful positioning that Harry’s doing, reaching down to guide him into where she needed him most.

“Fucking hell,” Harry moans lowly in surprise as she sinks down onto him.

He fits in her perfectly, it was exactly what she needed but because she was so on edge, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to last long because that tension was already building back up in her belly.

“Harry,” YN moans as she sits down completely, clit brushing against his pubic bone to provide the friction that she needed.

“You’re okay, you’re perfect. There you go,” He encourages, one hand still on her ass, and the other moving to cup her neck, “You’re such a good girl, never had anyone take it so well.”

A flame of jealousy shouldn’t lick up her spine at the thought of him with someone else but it does momentarily.

YN lifts up to start a rhythm that works more for her than for him, rotating her hips instead of bouncing to get him to reach the spot inside of her while getting the sensation on her bud at the same time.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind how greedy and self-indulgent she’s being right now, holding her closely, and murmuring words of encouragement against her cheek where his lips are brushing soft kisses.

“There you go, take what you want. S’yours.”

“That’s it, you feel so good on me.”

“You’re wrecking me, pup. Never had it this good.”

It was all too much, too intimate, too addicting for one time.

When Harry grips her bum harder, directing her grinds more harshly into him, more unrelenting and intense, it barrels her towards the release that she’s been craving since he met him.

“I’m….I’m coming,” YN pants out, she was sheen with sweat, the previous chilled house seeming like a sauna as her skin sticks to Harry’s, hips picking up the pace as the band in her belly releases and she’s barreling over the edge.

“Yeah, pup. Give it to me, you’re the most beautiful thing, coming on my cock,” Harry groans as she squeezes around him, it doesn’t take more than two or three thrust upwards for him to follow suit.

“Fuck, you did so good,” Harry sighs as they sit there, he keeps her in his lap as he brushes her hair away from her face and neck, peppering kisses along her sweaty temple, and rubbing up and down her back.

It was too intimate.

YN was liking this too much.

And god, that really fucking scared her.

YN’s quiet when they finally separate, Harry goes about cleaning them both up as best as he can with a damp cloth, and there’s no conversation about her spending the night because he’s tucking her into the comforter without discussion before sliding in next to her.

++

When YN wakes up the next time, it’s still dark outside, and she realizes that she was awoken by movement in the room.

As she sits up, she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, and her bones still feel heavy from not getting enough sleep to recover from her activities on the night.

There’s only a dim lamp in the corner of the room, it highlights Harry who’s now dressed in a pair of dress pants, a button- up and suit jacket slung over a chair in the corner of the room.

The clock reads five in the morning. .

“Hi,” YN rasps, voice thick with sleep, no attempting to keep the confusion out of her tone.

She rubs her eyes to try to wake herself a bit more.

When Harry looks over at her - well, he looks different.

He doesn't have a twinkle in his eye and his lips are set in a firm line.

There hadn’t been anything that had happened between the time he helped lay her down in his bed and now that would warrant the change in his demeanor but she already felt her stomach sinking before the words came out of his mouth.

“You can leave now. I’ve folded on the bench with money for a cab. I need you out in the next twenty minutes, I have to go,” Harry states bluntly, uninterested in her response as he goes back to his suitcase without another glance.

True to his word, on the bench in front of the bed was her outfit neatly folded and bills for a ride home.

What a fucking asshole.

“You must be joking,” YN laughs in disbelief, was she really getting kicked out right now?

Her mind was spinning.

How did they go from having such an amazing, intimate night to being kicked to the curb?

It wasn’t like she expected them to fall madly in love or for him to even want her number but of course there was hope this could be more.

She just wasn’t expecting this.

“I have multiple meetings this morning before I leave on a business trip. I don’t have time for this back and forth. I don’t know what your expectations of me were but this is where our night ends. We fucked, that’s it. Alright?” Harry’s tone is monotone, emotionless, and he won’t even look at her.

YN lets out a scoff for him to know just how pissed off she was, ripping the comforter off her body and letting it crumble onto the ground as she slides out of the bed.

She looks down and realizes Harry had slid a very baggy shirt onto her, probaly as she was falling asleep last night.

It was a Kiss band tee.

It looked expensive and vintage.

It nearly brushed her mid-thighs.

Fuck it, she’s not giving it back.

Gathering in her phone, dress, shoes, she storms out of his bedroom.

She could get her own fucking cab.

YN makes her way quickly through the maze of the rather large house, finding the staircase and wanting to get out of this house as soon as fucking possible with annoyance when she hears him trailing after her.

When her hand reaches the knob on his front door, he’s not far behind her, having the advantage of knowing his way around his own house.

“You can wait for your ride here. It’s still dark out. You don’t have to stand outside. Are you going to put your clothes back on? You don’t have any pants on and it’s cold out.”

He doesn’t ask for his shirt back.

YN laughs dryly, no humor in his tone as she says, “Now you care? I’d rather not spend another minute in your house, prick.”

With that, she’s yanking open the heavy front door, ready to never see this man again.

Before she closes it, she looks at Harry who’s looking at her with a mixed expression of concern, surprise, and anger.

It was comical.

“And I don’t need your fucking money,” She spits, tossing the bills back into the house, slowly dancing to the ground before slamming the front door.

Already pulling up Uber on her phone as she walks down the sidewalk.

Fuck that asshole.

++++

YN tossed and turned a bit when she got back home - still infuriated with the man she’d just left.

It didn’t help that he had made her feel so much pleasure and that sex had been amazing.

He had to ruin it with his shitty personality.

He really did put on a good act though.

When she’s finally up, later than normal, and stirring her iced coffee with too much caramel and creamer, she gets an incoming call.

“Hiya babe,” An voice chirps, someone she doesn’t want to talk to right at this moment.

“What do you want?” YN mutters back, sipping on her drink without enthusiasm.

“I got a last minute job for you,” He supplies, his voice a little hesitant.

Niall was the...well the middle-man so to speak.

He was the liaison between her and the men she called her sugar daddies.

Niall worked for a higher up - it was a shady business at best but they did take care of their girls.

YN was grateful for their safety measures.

Background checks, always having security on standby if a girl needs help, as well as giving the women freedom to turn down men they didn’t want to deal with without a need for explanation.

“Now tell me, why does it sound like you’re about to tell me somethin’ I don’t like?” YN replies suspiciously.

Niall wasn’t ever known to be described as hesitant.

“I know it’s last minute, okay? But a new customer needs a date for a three day trip to Milan. The flight leaves tonight.”

“Fuck no, I -”

“He’s willing to pay fifty-thousand up-front to you, plus everything on the trip,” Niall tells her and she really can’t say no to that amount of money, he knows that and that’s why he’s even asking.

She’s never ever been offered that much.

It would help a lot.

“Fine,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her face at the thought of the quick packing and preparing that she’s going to need to do in a very short amount of time. “Does he know what I look like?”

Niall had a habit of not showing the men pictures - just assuring them that the girl is hot.

Only that sometimes doesn’t work out - not when the men have certain preferences such as body shape, hair color, eye color, etc…

“He didn’t want to see any pictures. He said that he didn’t care what the girl looked like as long as she cleaned up nicely and could hold herself intelligently at his events. The man literally only wants you as arm candy,” Niall replies.

This all sounds a bit too good to be true, “Niall, are you sure this is legitimate?”

“Of course. Did a background check, Job check, he paid us his ten-thousand dollar deposit upfront plus an extra five grand due to the short notice. He provided all of his information and signed all the forms.”

“He’s dumb rich, isn’t he?” YN laughs, hearing the absurd amount of money he dished out for a three-day date.

He must be desperate.

“Only worth a cool four-hundred and thirty million dollars.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Not even joking, I should have charged the dude more if I’m honest,” Niall laughs loudly.

“Must have one hell of an ugly mug if he can’t find a girl willing to go without paying,” YN chuckles - girls don’t care what men look like when their wallets are fat enough.

“I met him earlier. Handsome bloke, young dude too. Quite a mystery but I don’t ask questions - just accept the money. He had it all in cash,” Niall tells her before adding, “I’m going to send you all the details. You need to be at the port by six sharp.”

YN guesses an all expenses paid trip to Milan would be a nice way to get her shitty day off of her mind.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

++

YN’s Uber gets to the private airport just a bit before six, they were already getting everything ready to go as she exits the car and thanks the driver after he gets her two suitcases out of the boot.

She always had a bit of nerves before meeting her next client, this could be a very easy three days or difficult depending on who he is but usually it worked out just fine and she was never trapped.

However when a sharp, matte black phantom pulls up to the tarmac, YN knows that has to be her client’s car, and when the door opens, the opposite way than normal, she’s more than flabbergasted by who exits.

None other than Harry who looks equally as surprised as her before he hardens his facial features once again.

++

[skiiyoomin]

hello! i’m not sure if you’re taking reqs so if not feel free to skip this! i was wondering if we can get a oneshot of bakugo x reader except reader is a famous jpop idol (or even a global pop star) and bakugo is a pro hero. how the rest plays out can totally be up to you but i thought this would be a unique pairing. :)

Hi hi! Yes my reqs are open so feel free to ask as much as you´d like! I looove the idea, its literally one of my fave tropes. It´s a little short but I thought it was a cute way to start a possible relationship between bakugo and reader :>

RULES !! DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE

⤑Back to navigation

Content: pro hero! Bakugou x idol! reader, inspo from the met gala, gn! reader, swearing cause its bakugou

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Bakugou hated attending these events. The constant flashing of camera lights, the stuffiness of his suit, the obnoxious voices of paparazzi begging him to look their way. It was exhausting.

But alas, as one of the top heroes, he had to show his face more often than he´d like to and make small talk with people he could care less about. At least he´d get a few free drinks and food for the night.

As he finished walking down the red carpet and away from the dizzying lights, a figure smaller than his own bumped into him. And Bakugou in his very characteristic fashion, was ready to threat whoever wasn´t watching their step. "Oi, watch where you´re-"

The words died in his throat when his ruby eyes landed on your own. You had to be the most beautiful person he had ever seen. The luxurious fabric of your extravagant clothes complimented your features and sitted on the curves of your body just right. He realizes he was staring more than he should when your silky voice reached his ears.

"I´m so sorry!! It´s just it´s a bit hard to walk in these clothes" You admit with an embarrsed chuckle. He tsks, though there was no real annoyance directed towards you. "Can´t believe they´re making you wear something you can´t even walk in"

You chuckle feeling flattered by the concerns from someone who was so notorious for being abrasive...and devilishly handsome. "Yeah, well, you know, practicality isn´t really on top of their priority list."

To the surprise of the both of you, he holds his arm out. "What table are you assigned in?" God it took everything in him not to sweep you off your feet with the way your doe eyes were marveling up at him. You link your arm around his own. "Table three"

He hums in acknowledgement, though deep down he felt his heart hammering in his chest like a teenage boy. "Good, at least there will be a pretty face sitting with me"

It was embarrassing how quickly heat rose to your cheeks from such a common and simple compliment you heard quite often. Though it felt so different hearing it slip from his tongue. It felt genuine.

The picture you had portrayed of the pro hero Dynamight completely shattered the longer you spent the night engaged in conversation with him. He too, felt any prejudices he may have held against you for being an idol slip away. Conversation rolled easily between you two as if you had been friends for years, and for the first time in a very long time, you both truly enjoyed being there.

Of course, it didn´t make it any less exhausting. The proof being written all over your energy drained face by the time the clock struck 12 PM. Lucky you, Bakugou had a knack for being observant, so it didn´t take long before he realized how fatigued you felt, and truthfully, he wasn´t doing much better than you. He was just better at hiding it.

"Let me drive you home" It wasn´t a question, and it´s not like you had the energy to retaliate. You let him place a warm calloused hand on your waist while he led you to his car. The drive back to your home felt like it went by in a flash, though it must be because you were fast asleep.

His heart clenched when he gazed at your soft features while you were deep in slumber. But alas, the last thing he wanted was to overstep boundaries, so, albeit begrudgingly, he reached out and shook your shoulder.

"Hey, wake up, we´re here"

Your dark lashes fluttered against your cheeks before your eyelids slowly opened. It took you a long moment to gather your surroundings, but once you realized, your lips formed into a small `o´.

Bakugou thought it was a crime to look so adorable, but it´s not like he would ever tell you that. "C´mon, i´ll help you upstairs"

Once again, his hands felt just right against your body when he aided you in walking properly to your home. Everything felt like a fever dream. The way he respectfully removed any excessive fabric of clothing or the way he helped you into your bed in a surprisingly soft manner for someone so rough.

But you realized how real it was when you spotted a little note sticked to your fridge the next morning with beautifully neat handwriting saying:

"Text me xxx-xx-xx-xx"

And if anyone had seen the wide grin that spread across your face, they would have called you a simp. Maybe you were.

[soxcietyy]

my request is yuta finding readers toys and testing it on her the next time they do the deed 🙏🙏

Rating’s

This is embarrassingly late, I’m so sorry 😭🙏🏼

Nobara comes over to your house with a mystery box just to be disappointed with the contents inside. Yuta shows up unexpected and seems very interested in it.

"Hey! Guess who finally got the goods! Can’t wait to see what’s in here." Nobara said as she stood in front of your door with a cardboard box in her hands. It took you a second to even figure out what in the world she was talking about. What plans could of you guys made that you had forgotten about?

Ah yes last week she had mentioned that she made a new friend who owned a company. He said that he needed people to review his new products before he could launch them in his shop. Before he could reveal what it was Nobara stopped him, telling the guy that she wanted it to be a surprise. She promised to run over here once she received the package so you guys could be surprised together.

"What do you think it could be? Clothes? Food? Candy? Skincare? Makeup?!" Nobara said excitedly as she squeezed passed you. She didn’t need permission to enter because she would barge in even if you said no.

Walking into your apartment she decided to put the box on the coffee table. A loud thud could be heard as it made contact with the glass top. She took a seat on the floor as she waited for you, excited to see what was inside. She almost looked like a kid eager to open there gift. That would have to wait a second though. Walking to the kitchen you grab some wine glasses and a bottle so you guys could enjoy together. Whatever it was would go perfectly with a cold bottle of wine.

"Hurry up!" She says as she crosses her arms.

Yyou let out a sigh as you lean on the island, then you tell her to open the tape up while you poured drinks.

"I’m so excited!" Nobara says as she pulls out her keys and drags it across the tape to tear it open. While she did that you opened the bottle and poured the drinks into the glass. Once you had finished you approach her and place the cups down. Nobara didn’t want to waste anymore time, she pulls you towards her so you could look above the box with her.

"Okay I’m going to open it in three, two, one."

She opens the box to reveal what’s inside. Both of you look at each other in shock. It was a box full of toys and they weren’t the kid friendly ones. You put your hand inside and pull out a pink silicone toy in the shape of a male body part. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your friend.

"That disgusting monster!" She says in disbelief.

"Hey now, I’m sure he was going to tell you what it was before you stopped him." You say defending the man.

She rolls her eyes as she sits back down on the floor with her legs crossed. As she continued to pout you pull out some lube that was brand new and sealed. You quirk your brow as you read the flavor of the lube, popcorn… interesting.

"Common Nobara this isn’t bad at all! You don’t get laid enough so I think this could help you out." You tease.

"Ha Ha, very funny y/n" she stood up abruptly and started to walk away.

You furrow your brows as you turn to look at her. "Where are you going?" You ask

"I’m not intrested in this kind of stuff, you’ll probably use it well. Your man probably doesn’t satisfy you enough so have fun." She says throwing shade back. As she opens the door you see someone standing in the door way. Her jaw drops when she noticed it was Yuta.

Speak of the devil.

"Uh y/n … Yuta is here."

You quickly put everything back and kick the box on the floor behind you once you heard those words fall out her mouth. You had forgotten that he mentioned coming over today. You didn’t need him finding such things in your house, he’d get the wrong idea. You scramble to stand up with the glass of wine still in your hand. Taking a sip of your drink you run to the front door. To find him with a concerned look.

"You okay? You look pale." Yuta steps inside and holds your face to examine it.

You kindly put his hands down and assure him you’re fine. Your friend on the other hand had already made her escape. Seems like she didn’t want to be apart of what might happen in he finds the box.

Shutting the door behind him you watch him make his way to your couch. Maybe he would ignore the box. You had it closed so he wouldn’t open it right? He tends to respect your privacy after all.

You stood by the door watching him anxiously walk past the box. He took a seat and turned his attention to the tv that had drama playing. You sigh in relief seeing he had no interest in the box.

"You want some wine? Nobara didn’t even take a sip out of hers, it would be a waste." You say heading towards him.

"Yea I’ll drink it but could you please bring me some cheese and crackers? You know I cant have wine without them." He asks you nicely as he sat up from the couch to take a whiff of the wine.

You make your way in the kitchen and start making him his plate. While you did that you could hear him shuffling around, most likely getting comfortable. You couldn’t help but look over him a few times as you were occupied. Eventually you got fully focused on cutting the slices perfectly that you forgot to check on him. While cutting last bit of cheese you decide to look up but when you did the knife in your hand drops. Yuta was sitting on the couch with the box in his hands wide open.

He looked at you and the box back to back until he decided to place the box down to approach you. He had a concerned look on his face as he grabbed your hands.

"Am I not enough? You could told me this, no need to resort to that kind of stuff." He says with a sad tone.

You couldn’t help but stare blankly at him.

"N-no! Yuta you have the wrong idea. Nobara came over to drop thoes off so me and her could test them out." You say panicked.

You watch as his jaw drop from disbelief. Of course you worded it wrong. "Her friend owns a company and they have these new products! He needs a review before he drop it. Of course we’re not going to test them out together! Apart because we’re not like that."

He drops your hand feeling at ease with your answer.

"I’m relieved but you’re going to use these on your own? I doubt you would know how to use them." Yuta said as he walked to the box and pulled out a rose toy. Turning it in different directions so he could get a good look at the weird contraption.

"I’m more than capable of figuring it out." You roll your eyes.

He stalks back towards you as he held a wand vibrator in his hands. Bringing it near him mouth to use it as a microphone. "Two reviews are better than one." Yuta says as in the "mic" .

Putting the wand down next to the cutting board he pulls out the rose, clearly being interested in that one the most. He lifted you up and sat you on the counter you down on the counter. Pulled your night gown up as he tried to figure out how to turn on the flower.

Grabbing it from his hand you slowly direct your finger towards the power button so he could see. Once you pressed it, it started to vibrate in your hands letting out a humming noise. He quickly grabbed it to feel the vibration in his hands. A small smile appeared on his face as he put it against his hand.

"This has power." He says as he felt how strong and fast it was. Bring his hand down he tried to put it against your privates but you stopped him by covering the area.

"You’re not going to wash it first?" You looked at him.

He quickly turned on the faucet that was next to you and washed it with soap and water. He came back immediately to not ruin the mood. He then brings up the toy to his mouth and begins to lick it.

You were in disbelief from his actions. He was licking it and swirling his tongue on it as he pulled your panties to the side. He then pressed it on you once he was satisfied with the wet coat he had just created it. You jolt at the sudden vibration it created. You bite your cheek as you grab into his shoulder for support. You never really used something like this because there was no need. Yuta managed to satisfy your needs easily so this was entirely new to you.

Yuta would gradually go fast and faster until you were at your climax but this toy got to the point. It didn’t take long before your legs are shaking and your grip on him tightened. You begged him to not press it up your bran to hard but he didn’t listen. Instead he studied your facial expressions and mocked you when you would open your mouth from pleasure. Asking if you like this better than him.

You would shake your head but he didn’t stop. He was clearly trying to teach you some sort of lesson but it wasn’t getting quite through. Not even ten minutes passed and you were orgasming in his hand.

"Five stars" he says as he walks away.

While you try to catch your breath you find him Infront of you once again. You were surprised he came back so quickly. He saw your struggle to get down so he helped you down with one hand. You lean onto him as you try to regain your composure but he gave you little to no time as he bent you over the counter and shoved something in you.

You gasp at the sudden familiar feeling of being full. It wasn’t as filling as you were used to taking but it still felt amazing Turning back at him you see Yuta with an intrigued look. He pulled out the object out of you and slammed it back inside. You let out a loud cry from pleasure. He then pulls it in and out in a steady pace as he watched you squirm. You beg him to slow down In between moans.

You try to grip onto the counter as he pounded you with the toy. Hitting the right spot over and over again.

"This mouth was so hungry for something huh? Look at her drooling all over this toy." Yuta says as your juices run down his hand. You close your eyes out of embarrassment. Your legs loosing the will to support you in the process. Yuta was quick to catch you before you could fall.

He ended up paying on the couch While resting your body on his chest. You relaxed in his embrace until you felt the toy go back inside you. You look up at him with an annoyed look.

"What? We need to rate this toy. Won’t be possible until you finish." He kisses your head as continued were he left off. You grip his shirt as he started slamming the silicone toy in you. Body jolting everytime he dug it deep inside your body. Was he really planning on testing everything out on you? There was no way anyone could go through such a box. That’s at least twenty five orgasms in one go.

Another orgasm rippled through your body. You moan out his name as you grab his arm that was helping move the toy in and out of you.

"Seven, took you way too long to orgasm. Even I can do it in less time, it got the job done though. 3 stars."

"No more" you croak out in desperation.

"Why not? We just got started." Yuta sits you on you couch.

You pull your dress down with a flushed face.

"I can do the rest in my own with my own pace. Plus these toys are usually meant for self pleasure. It wouldn’t be fair to rate them together." You say hoping that wound stop him from continuing.

"Oh" he says "then masturbate with them."he says.

"I will, eventually." You say as you grab the toy Yuta was using as a microphone not too long ago.

"Do it right now, Infront of me." He tilts his head.

You look at him shocked.

"I couldn’t possibl-"

He grabs your hand with the toy and pushes it down there. You swallow hard as he looked into your eyes.

"I won’t touch you. I won’t bother you." He smiles as he sits on the couch opposite from you. "I’ll just sit here."

You bite your lip as he tells you to go on. You have no choice but to listen. Pulling your panties down you put your legs on the couch. Spreading them apart until he had a full view of everything. You watch as his hands roam on his pants. Caressing his member that rested under those pants.

Closing your eyes you turn on the device and put it on your bud. You let out a shameful moan out immediately because you were already so sensitive. You rubbed it up and down your area. Hips rolling back and forward from pleasure.

It felt so good but something was missing. You couldn’t think of what it could be. Maybe more of a stronger vibration? A faster speed? A better shape? Or maybe it was the man Infront of you.

You let out whimpers as you open your eyes too look at him. He was sitting down watching you pleasure yourself from afar. Eyes not looking away from you even for a second. You couldn’t help but wish for him to touch you and to do more.

"Yut-a" you flutter your eyes at him.

He tried his best not to respond since he said he wasn’t going to bother you but the look you were giving him made him turn on his words.

"Yes baby?" He asks.

"I want you to do it form me." You say.

Yutas leg jolted from excitement but he knew he shouldn’t. Still he stood up and approached you. Sitting on the floor right in front of you.

"Common baby you can do it." He says moving your hand a bit lower so you could get a better position on it. The small movement made a huge difference. You were now squirming like crazy. Legs twitching uncontrollably. All that came out your mouth now was your moaning and small profanity’s. Yutas name coming out time by time which he loved.

"Such a good girl, come for me no?"

He said as he kissed your thighs up and down, trying not to intervene too much. You cry out his name once more as you came. Body completely shutting down on you. Yuta was quick to move the toy out the way and bury his face in between your legs.

"Y-Yuta!?" You squeal

You tried to push him away but he was not moving until he decided he was. He ended up eating you out until he left you clean.

"Sorry I couldn’t help myself."

[moviecritc]

like the movies ⋆ max verstappen

bonus track of my bewitched department

pairing: max verstappen x actress!reader

summary: even though you've been all your life acting, you never experienced a love like the movies, until max appeared in your life

word count: 1.7K

warnings: none, just pure fluff

a/n: I'm going through a max verstappen phase, so if you have any requests for a blurb or something cute, send them <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

"Are you breaking up with me over the phone? While I'm on my way to your parents' house? Are you stupid or what?" With each sentence, Y/N's voice grew louder.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry. But…"

"But my ass! Don’t you have any common sense?"

She could hear her boyfriend sigh, and she sighed four times louder than him.

"You are too… cold-hearted for me," he finally said from the other end of the line.

Y/N stifled an exclamation. Cold-hearted? How could she be if she was an actress? She was the warmest person he had known.

"You're always focused on your job and yourself, I need someone…"

"Idiot!" Y/N interrupted him. "Just say you don’t have enough self-love to date an independent woman. You worthless piece of shit."

She hung up after her sentence, not wanting to hear her ex-boyfriend's response. She parked the car and ran her hands over her face. She looked at herself in the little mirror of her car, touching up her lipstick and reassuring herself that she was a good person worthy of love.

She got out of her car and went directly to the bookstore in front of her. She still had quite a few books in her apartment to read, but she didn’t mind. It was her third breakup in four months, and she was starting to wonder if she really was the problem, and the only thing that could distract her from that was spending money she didn't have.

She began to pile books on her arms, and by the fifth manuscript, she started to wobble.

"Do you need help?"

Y/N blinked and peeked her head out from the stack of books, meeting a blonde with a very un-London-like accent and skinny jeans who looked like anything but someone who worked in a bookstore. She didn't know that strangers were now offering help out there.

"No, thanks," She took a step and added a sixth book, enough for all of them to fall. "Shit!"

Y/N felt so embarrassed she even blushed. She knew everyone in the bookstore would be watching her, and that terrified her.

"May I help you now?"

Y/N looked up, having completely forgotten about the presence of the stranger, who was looking at her with a kind smile.

"If you insist…" She smiled a little while rolling her eyes, which made him smile too.

They picked up the books together, which were a bunch of rom-coms. For a moment she thought he would judge her choices, but he didn’t make any gesture.

"I'm Max, by the way"

Y/N blinked. She had no idea what was happening, it seemed totally unreal that a stranger would help her pick up her books and suddenly introduce himself.

"Do you like Sally Rooney?" he asked, holding the last book she'd picked.

Y/N realized that this guy wanted to keep a trivial conversation with her, like those you have in nightclub bathrooms with girls. But this time was a bookstore, not a library. And not a girl, but a Max.

"I’ve never read her, but I saw Normal People, the series, and I was left wanting more," she explained, with a shy smile. "Y/N, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," he showed her a gorgeous smile. "I read the book, I haven’t had time to watch the series yet."

"Oh, it's really good,"

The conversation flowed too easily. She wasn’t used to talking so normally with someone she had just met a few minutes ago and moreover without it being awkward, but that was how it was. Y/N told him about the books she planned to buy and the one she was reading now.

"Excuse me, we're going to close," an employee informed them. In London, shops always closed in the mid-afternoon, for lunch, and although Y/N had arrived around eleven-thirty, the clock was almost striking one. "Are you taking the books?"

"Sure, yes," said Y/N at once and turned to Max. "Hold on a sec."

Max waved his hand, telling her not to worry, that he would wait. She paid for the books and quickly returned to Max.

"Do you have plans for this afternoon?" Max asked directly. Y/N loved the confidence in his voice.

"No, I don’t,"

"Can I invite you to lunch?"

"I'd love that,"

Y/N went to leave the bag of books in her car and she and Max walked to a nearby restaurant, continuing their conversation. It still seemed extremely surreal to her, in what universe does she break up with her boyfriend and moments later meet the nicest guy she had ever known?

"What do you do?" Max asked, once they were seated in the restaurant.

"I'm an actress," she pursed her lips. She was still in the phase where it was hard for her to admit she worked in that field.

"I'm not much into movies," Max commented, scrunching his nose.

"Great because I do theater,"

"Really?" he leaned back in his chair, impressed. "I don’t frequent the theater either, to be honest."

They both laughed softly and Y/N sipped her drink. "And you?"

"I work with cars,"

Y/N furrowed her brow, waiting for him to specify a bit more. "In a repair shop or how?"

That caused a small laugh from Max, leaving Y/N even more confused.

"Yes, exactly. In a repair shop," he continued with a wide smile.

"Well, if you like cars, there's some Prix thing here this weekend. There are tourists everywhere, it's terrible," she complained, rolling her eyes a bit.

Max gave her a goofy smile. That was perfect. Simply perfect.

"Really?" he arched his eyebrows slightly. "I had no idea."

"They do it every year. A silly thing," Y/N shrugged, letting the topic pass.

They continued talking for a long time about how Y/N once almost knocked down the shelves in a bookstore.

"Just like in the movies!" Max said, laughing.

She nodded, also laughing. "I swear things like a character in a tragicomedy happen to me."

They continued laughing for a while, then Max squinted a bit, resting his head on the palms of his hands. "And don’t you think it’s very movie-like that someone picks up your books for you?"

Y/N looked around, with sudden terror. "Where are the cameras, Max?"

He threw his head back laughing with a soft scrunch in his nose. The sound of his laugh felt really warm for Y/N.

"I hope nowhere," Max was right. Too good to be true. Too good to happen to her. Her look darkened a bit, and Max noticed it quickly. "Something wrong?"

She looked up and shook her head a little. "It's just… Is this weird?"

"I don’t think so, unless you want to make it weird. I’m pretty good at that,"

Max got a small smile from her.

"It's just that I’m used to…” Y/N thought about that sentence. “To things like this not happening to me. I haven’t been doing too well in love this past year,"

"Oh, me neither," Max didn’t mention the part about being a famous person and everyone wanting to be with him out of pure interest and not because they really liked him. "It's complicated."

"Quite," she pursed her lips. "Anyway… I have a performance at a theater in Soho on Thursday, you could come by. If you want, of course."

Max bit his lip; he had his first free practice that day and likely several meetings and driver duties.

"Oh, I'd love to. What time?"

They exchanged phones after the meal, which dragged on quite a bit, so that Y/N could send Max the location of the theater. And to exchange several messages throughout the day. They didn't see each other again until the day of the performance, but in that time, they had written dozens of messages. Y/N would tell Max about the series or movie she had watched that afternoon and recommended that he watch it, even though it was more than likely that Max hadn't turned on a TV in months.

Thursday arrived, and Max managed to sneak away from a meeting, arriving just in time for the play.

Y/N was nervous, and her co-star wasn't helping.

"Y/N!" Her co-star approached practically running. "I just heard that a famous driver is watching the play."

"Really?" She didn't care too much. She had been without news from Max for hours.

Luckily, he appeared at the door with a kind smile and a bouquet of roses. "Hi,"

Y/N flashed a smile and went up to him, instinctively wanting to hug him. Max, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, left a short kiss on her lips. She instantly blushed.

"Hello," Y/N greeted, with a silly smile. "Gorgeous flowers."

Max looked at her co-star, who was completely astonished.

"Lily, are you okay?" questioned Y/N, still hugging Max.

"Why didn't you tell me you were dating a famous driver?"

Y/N turned to Max instantly.

"What do you mean, 'famous driver'?"

Max pursed his lips slightly. "Aren't you going to call her out on the 'dating' thing?"

Y/N paused for a moment, trying not to laugh at what Max had said.

"Y/N, this is Max Verstappen. The Formula 1 driver!"

She lifted her chin and looked at Max again. "Formula 1 driver?"

Max scratched his neck.

"I think so…"

Y/N paused again for a moment. "And you let me mock your career just like that?"

"It's because you're strangely nice, what can I do," Max shrugged, causing Y/N to laugh.

"Well, I'm not one to deny it," she smiled a bit, then kissed Max's lips a second time. She placed a finger on his chest. "Though we're not dating, huh. We need to have a second date before we throw it all in for each other,"

Max burst out laughing. "Like they do in the movies?"

"Absolutely."

taglist; @theseerbetweenus

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Alright, so there's been a lot of chatter about some of the most common racist takes in the fandom lately, and I know most people aren't engaging in good faith but I'm gonna spell some things out anyway. Here's a handy-dandy White Fan's Intro to Racist Fanon 101

Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent?

Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show. OFMD goes out of its way to depict Ed's relationship with violence as complex and intensely traumatic for him. Because he has so many hangups around violence, Ed is one of the least violent characters in a show full of violent characters. He is always shown giving people many chances before they're able to push him into reacting with violence.

Even if you think you're just doing a character study on a guy who is really very complex and nuanced, please take the time to consider if you're assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is (for example, Ed never physically hurt the crew during his kraken spiral, just Izzy. His crime was being a shitty boss, not going on mindlessly violent rampages).

What do other common fanon depictions of Ed that are racist look like?

The biggest ones are depicting Ed as untidy/messy, as illiterate, and as needing a white man (most often Izzy) to clean up after him. I hope I shouldn't have to spell out why these are racist, but please keep an eye out for them in the fanon you consume so you can be critical of how you respond when they pop up.

Are you saying that all Izzy fans are racist?

Liking a character is morally neutral. Insisting that the viewpoint of an antagonistic character is the lens through which the show should be understood, though, especially when that antagonistic character's whole deal in the first season of the show was trying to control the behavior of the brown lead so he could gain power for himself, however...

Just please consider - why do you find Izzy's tears more deserving of sympathy and compassion than Ed's?

But my hot take/fic/meta doesn't say anything about Ed's skin color!

It doesn't have to. Most of the racist takes/fic/meta out there don't mention Ed's skin color explicitly. Racism doesn't just look like saying "this character is a brown man so he's bad." Everyone who grows up in a racist society (that's everyone on the planet, btw, you included) has biases to unlearn, and those biases impact how you interact with the world around you, including with the media you consume.

The thing is, OFMD isn't a subtle show. It's very consistent with telling us who Ed is, how he responds to situations, and why he behaves the way he does. If you find it easier to throw all that aside in favor of believing what a white antagonistic character tells you about him, then you should really take a bit to examine that.

And here's the most important thing to keep in mind:

This is not about you.

Trust me, it has to be pretty damn bad for fans of color to call out racism in fandom. Every time we do, we know we're gonna harrassment and just some truly awful shit in our inboxes. But you, random white fan who Did A Racism? No one is out to get you. No one thinks you're an awful person for including a racist trope in your stuff, we just wish you'd examine it so we can make this fandom a better place for everyone.

I have had amazing discussions with white fans who saw my posts on fandom racism and wanted a sensitivity read or a check so they could fix an instance where they uncritically included a racist trope. But most people who make similar mistakes will just double down and insist they didn't do anything wrong, and that makes fandom a worse place for all of us.

Fans of color deserve to feel safe and included in this fandom, and we're just tired of feeling like we have to beg to get some circles to see poc as people. You can do your part by being critical of these tropes and your reactions to them when they pop up.

[bcacstuff]

Who's that Girl

So here it goes....

After yesterdays JJ article and pics from London, I showed you how I did a search on face recognition sites, one came up with a tiktok, others came up with some... more info perhaps.

Early this morning someone (who wants to remain anonymous) sent me a link in DM, an IG account, and showed me some matching things on there.

Like this bracelet

and of course her face

Same bag was seen as well

well bag and bracelet.... and face

and the matrix coat, well I found that one on her friends IG

right...

Of course, I hear you, who is she, what is her name, her IG.... I actually thought and doubted about this a long time, do I give away her name? Do I not? Well, I decided I give her name, wont link directly to her IG though. She's called Lauren Marie, though I doubt this is her real name. It is more like her.... uhm... 'professional' name...

But before I do, it's probably better to put a little warning/disclaimer here. So far, you'd say nothing wrong perhaps... but that is so far... below it's gonna be a little less nice for sure. Actually the picture drgotts posted in his stories today, and Sam reposted was quite accurate...

I'm sure my face had all of these expressions as well and perhaps some more. Also keep in mind, you're here on your free will reading my post because... well guess because you want to know all things... or if you don't want to, you can still close this post and go for a nice walk in the park or something relaxing..... Above all, don't shoot the messenger, I can tell you I needed some time to process this all as well.

Okay, meet Lauren Marie

Just some random pics from her IG which is more like an advertisement space for her..... 'services'.... Showing of luxury items and clothes on several luxurious places all over the world. No job description on her profile - ahem- No not a model or an actress. Her location on IG says Atlanta, while on TikTok it is Dubai!

On her TikTok, not many videos, but here's one

as I can only post one video, a screenshot from another

Not to mention the hashtags she uses....

My Anon did the same, well about the same perhaps as I did (no I didn't pay, but if you know how to use Google searches in a certain way... well...)

:sigh: oh Sam... 🤦‍♀️ indeed, I said that many times today 🤐

Yes, her IG and Tiktok already makes you think hmmm.... no job mentions and doing a 'normal' google search doesn't really get you far, but with the help of the little hints some face recognition apps give you, this is what you find...

Notice the tattoo (even blurred) and see above where I showed the bracelet.

One of the sites (yes I really went there 🙈

There are many more similar sites to find like these.... but i will spare you, i think nuf said....

I imagine you might have some questions, like;

Does he date this woman? Uhm... no if you know a little, you know these women are not dating material (cough cough)

So did he pay to shag her? Uhm... well, I don't know of course - ahem - but for what it is worth what my Anon above said is true, in the celeb world this unfortunately is 'common'. But ask yourself this, would he shag a paid escort and consequently walk hand in hand with her in central London, Soho to get papped? I have a hard time believing that to be honest. I mean, if he wants to, he knows how to stay under the radar. I think his escort had an easy job yesterday without many yoga or gymnastics.

So was it an intended papwalk? Yeah, I'm sure you all might have your own thoughts about that. It isn't a date, it isn't the woman you might want to be papped with, unless you hope nobody finds out who she is. But I'm sure he knows his fandom and with such a clear pic of her face, well. So I wonder, is this a PR stunt gone wrong? (given he turned of the tags on his IG). It does look like an intended papwalk to me, he's even groomed. Just look at the selfie that Saturday when he had lunch with Sarah.... or the boat pic earlier this year. Nothing like these pappics. Well, I simply leave you with your own thoughts on that, but I tend to lean towards an intended papwalk that wasn't the best idea (if his PR team came up with that, I'd sack them immediately)

So far... if you don't mind, I'm gonna do a deep clean of my search history right now!

[galedekarios]

meta master list

early access content & cut content

i'm strong enough. i'll carry on alone - a meta about gale's strength of character

i cherish you - a look into gale's ea romance

gale & curing the orb - what the game had originally planned for gale

cut reactions & dialogues - 23 cut conversations from ea

the loss scene - major cut scene from ea

the deer stew scene - major cut scene from ea

gale's three tadpole dreams - cut content from ea

gale's key art

unused gale's scene / datamined cut scene found in the game's full release files

tara's cut content for companion gale

gale centric

gale & his parents - morena & his father

the netherese orb - consequences for gale's magic

gale & physical ailments caused by the orb

the nautiloid - where was he & where did he see the protag

gale - where was he kidnapped? ( 1 )

gale & yartar, the city attacked by mindflayers - where was he kidnapped? ( 2)

gale's love language - acts of service

gale's arcane hunger and its consequences

the missed potential of orin kidnapping gale

gale & masking - tell me more about yourself

epilogue - class specific skills gale learns from his s/o

to know you love me for the man that i am, not the magic i command... none have loved me so purely before - a closer look at gale & his relationship with the protag

gale & his love for his friends

gale's youth & time spent before the game's events

gale as professor at blackstaff academy

gale as a born sorcerer with a wizard's education

epilogue - gale, raphael, elminster and mystra

last night alive / act 2 romance scene cinematic notes

last night alive / act 2 romance scene devnotes

the drow twins scene

gale's scars - ea & full release

what do you need? - the red thread through gale's greetings

relationships with companions & npcs

gale & elminster - mentor, friend & paternal figure

minsc & gale - a meta about their relationship with each other

karlach & gale - a meta about the relationship between the two

gale & karlach - epilogue specific lines

what was i after all but a mortal plaything in sacred hands? - parallels between gale and shadowheart

gale & withers - epilogue specific lines

gale & the ash, the magma mephit

gale & lae'zel

gale & family

gale & morena

gale & tara - general dialogue

tara being protective of gale

gale & tara - epilogue banter

gale & tara - epilogue ambient banter

tara & her little love

tara can speak common but doesn't want to

tara likes to snoop through gale's things

dialogue collection of tara & gale

items

gale's epilogue outfit - items decriptions & analysis

god!gale's outfit - items details & analysis

gale's animation vs standard wizard animation - a comparison

the chosen's earring - idle champions item descriptions

tara in idle champions - item decriptions

armillary sphere - coliar, karpri, anadia

gale's companion icon

the epilogue room

piano playing

waterdeep

waterdeep's splendours - what makes waterdeep special

waterdeep's festivities and celebrations

ahghairon's lost nose - who was ahghairon?

gale, waterdeep & coinage - a meta about waterdeep's coins and gale's wealth

manycats alley & a hc

wedding traditions in waterdeep - the wedding band

waterdhavians and their way of life - class & station, character & temperament, other races, smalltalk

doth thy mirror crack - ambient dialogue & waterdhavian saying

waterdeep after the game ends - trouble is brewing

the hospice st laupsenn & gale's stay there

shorts

gale & home

the finer things in life

until we wake again, my love

scent - tim downie's hcs

colours associated with gale - tim downie's hcs

gale's themes - tim downie's hcs

epilogue - bookworm gale sneaking into various libraries & book shops

epilogue - epilogue description of professor vs god ending

epilogue - new hobbies

a look at gale's lifespan with an elven partner

quiet is not always peace

romance epilogue details - a closer look at outfits outfits & animations

idle animations - a closer look

[gyundo]

“A Meeting I’ll Never Forget”

Lee Jeno (Jeno) x Male Reader!!

SMUT! Interact at your own risk!

Plot: Two princes meet fatefully, and fit each other like a long-lost lock and key

Prince L/N Y/N was the oldest son of the king of Escrow. The Escrowian empire had started with the prince’s great-grandfather, who had risen to power as a mercenary that had fallen out of favor of another kingdom and had come to Escrow to establish his own empire.

Y/N, on the other hand, had no desire to rule over his kingdom. He was obviously going to accept his position as his father’s heir, but the duties didn’t particularly strike him as interesting. Y/N always had a preference for tasks such as cooking, baking, and the arts, such as singing and dancing, which earned him many scoldings from his parents.

Y/N’s parents cursed him on many occasions, explaining to him that his preferences were that of commoners, but it fell on deaf ears. Y/N continued to do as he pleased, and he never attended his swordsmanship lessons or any physical training. This, for a prince, Y/N was quite weak. Although, thanks to the nagging of his father, Y/N was stronger than the average person and did have some minor muscle definition.

As young people often do, Y/N neglected his responsibilities, and for a royal, this was intolerable. As Y/N’s father received an invitation for a meeting, he realized this was the perfect opportunity to put his son in order.

“You will be escorted by my personal order to the Kingdom of Travania in order to attend the meeting on the 25th of this month, Y/N” the King spoke with confidence in his throne room.

“B-but that’s so boring father, why should I sit in a carriage for 5 days with no proper food to go meet some random crusty king in a faraway kingdom?” Y/N complained, in a typical young adult fashion.

“King Jeno is an extremely influential man in his area. You mustn’t forget that your grandfather was from Travania himself. It is in our best interests to make relations favorable between our empire and his kingdom, if we wish to avoid any wars for hundreds of years.” the emperor promptly replied.

“B-but father, I don’t wanna go—,” Y/N whined.

“That’s enough out of you. Remember I’m not just your father but the emperor as well. You will go meet King Jeno. Do whatever it takes to curry favor with him,” the emperor bellowed.

Y/N stomped out of the throne room and ordered his servants to pack his things and prepare the carriage. He knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter and before he knew it, he was sitting in the carriage and already left the capital.

Y/N was angry as to why he had to leave his fun in the palace to go meet a random King who was old and would have nothing to talk about with Y/N. Y/N figured that he would just offer some items that were made by the Escrowian Empire that were sure to pave the way for a trade deal. Y/N was even more frustrated that his father had sent him in his stead.

Little did Y/N know, King Jeno was nothing like what he imagined.

The envoy arrived after a long, treacherous journey that saw many bumpy roads, many forests, and many plains. Y/N was more exhausted than he could describe, and he was everything but jumping for joy when he saw the palace of Travania.

Y/N treaded gracefully, in awe of what he was seeing. Sure, his familial palace in Escrow was large, but the Travanian royal family's estate was lavish in another sense of the word, with large fountains adorned with figures of greek worship. Garlands of roses adorned the edge of the roof of the main palace, which stood so grand Y/N had to turn to be able to see it all. The garden was artfully carved and decorated, with each bush and tree pruned in a most detailed fashion.

Y/N realized that the days-long journey to Travania was worth it from the view itself. Remembering almost as an aside that there was a meeting for which he had came, Y/N walked further to the main gate of the palace.

There, a tall figure stood awaiting him. As Y/N drew closer, he observed the elegant rhinestones embedded in the crown of bearer. He paid attention to each stretch in the royal garment, which stuck to each individual muscle on the man's built body. The biceps, large to the point that the seam was stretched, the pecs, which filled out the top, and the pants, fully conforming to the large thighs made Y/N realize he was in the presence of a man truly fit to be king.

"You must be Prince Y/N of Escrow, your highness. I am King Jeno of Travania. It is with great pleasure I welcome you to our empire and our summit this afternoon," the man spoke with a great smile, reflected in the expression of his eyes.

"Your highness, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance and to be the recipient of such great hospitality. Our nations are sure to grow closer relations from this monumental event," Y/N spoke eloquently while shaking the hand of the other man.

Jeno, not blind to the way Y/N had previously stared him up and down, understood the situation very well. As a show of diplomacy, Jeno transitioned the handshake into a bodily embrace common between royalty of different nations to show closeness. From the viewpoint of others, this was completely normal.

The reality of the embrace was known only by Jeno and Y/N, from the way Jeno reached underneath the cape of Y/N and fondled his buttocks in a way not visible to any. He continued kneading the large protrusions of the prince as he increased his pressure.

Y/N, still in shock from the abruptness and how suddenly these developments had occurred, refrained from any immediate movements and let out a small moan that he thought was only audible to him.

Jeno, however, had also heard the moan and understood that his actions were received well. Letting go of the younger, King Jeno continued, "My attendants will give you a tour of Travanian royal palace while I prepare for our summit. They will lead to the room of our summit after the tour, so you shan't worry, Prince Y/N."

"I stromgly appreciate thy kindness and will sincerely revel in the beauties of your artful palace, King Jeno." Y/N gracefully responded.

The attendants continued to show Y/N around the various areas of the palace, which included hanging gardens, exotic flora collections, the royal bathing chamber, the surrounding farms, and the servant quarters that seemed better than the prince's own bedroom. An hour had elapsed before the head attendant spoke, "King Jeno has finished prepared for your meeting. He awaits you inside these doors and has requested that you enter alone. It has been a pleasure giving you a tour, my liege."

Y/N gave a show of his appreciation and opened the grandiose doors that seemed like that of a bedchamber. He stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind him and expecting to see a large round table with artisan-crafted chairs. Instead, he was met with a large, silk sheet draped over a large mattress, lush purple velvet curtains, and most striking of all, King Jeno dressed in a red robe that unveiled his extremely muscular upper body, with a significant bulge in the clothing covering his private area.

"Ah, I see that you've arrived. We can start discussing matters of interest to us once you take a seat here, my prince," Jeno spoke lustfully.

Y/N, absolutely shocked, but being the honest man he was exclaimed,"Never have I seen such a meeting, but I am more than happy to take you up on your offer, my King."

Jeno looked pleased as Y/N sat down on the bed, embracing him the moment he did. Y/N felt the warmth of Jeno's muscular body on his own, while sensing great pressure from his large muscles in his upper body and his bulge that was separated from Y/N's only by cloth.

The king moved his lips closer to that of Y/N's, looking at his with concupiscent eyes that asked for permission. Y/N, without words, gave his approval by moving his face only slightly forward, to which Jeno responded by firmly crashing their lips together, pushing Y/N down onto the sheet, and rubbing his hands under Y/N's tunic.

Y/N reveled in the pleasure of Jeno's masterful techniques that mingled their tongues together with sounds that could only be interpreted as sinful. Their lips met again and again, with short breaks for air, only to be crashed together as violently as when they first met. Suckling sounds and shared strands of saliva spoke to the passion between the two men as their mouths melted in the pleasure of each other.

Jeno pulled away as Y/N motioned, "Hurry, my King, I feel urges and a steady heat rising in my body. Only you can help me."

With a sly smirk, Jeno replied,"Anything for my guest, my prince," while peeling off Y/N's clothes as he went in to resume their lip lock.

Moments later, a fully naked Y/N was below Jeno, still in his robe, with their legs intertwined and lips connected as the younger felt Jeno's arm around his back and his waist. The two continued making out and enjoying the pangs of pleasure released by the meeting between their lips.

"It's time to discuss the foundations for an alliance," Jeno joked while unbuckling the belt holding his robe on. Y/N looked with nothing but desire at Jeno's large pecs, his well-defined abs, his sculpted shoulders, and his large, perfect dick that was fit for a king. Jeno's cock stood proudly in front of Y/N, with veins and a deep red tip that Y/N wanted to break him. The sheer thickness of his cock made Y/N want to take Jeno forever, who would stretch Y/N and surely leave him crying for mercy.

Jeno understood the desires of the younger well, and not being able to control his own, Jeno flipped over Y/N onto his stomach.

Tapping his cock against Y/N's hole, Jeno heard moans of impatience as he began to slap the prince's hole with a thud that spoke to the weight of his penis. His eight inch cock was sure to break in Y/N quite nicely and leave him unable to live without Jeno forever. This experience would give Y/N such a pleasured pain it would unlock new levels of lust in his brain.

"I see you are well-prepared for this new connection between our nations," Jeno spoke as he observed wetness at the Y/N's opening, speaking volumes to the younger's insatiable appetite.

Jeno, unable to control himself any further, roughly plunged his cock into the deep, moist entrance of Y/N's ass, as the younger let out an audible yelp. The corners of his hole began to slightly bleed to accomdate the first-time stretch.

Overwhelmed from the sudden introduction of seven inches, the thickness of the pole inside him, the pain of his hole ripping slighlty, and the new feeling of being filled, Y/N let out large tears that stained the white sheet below him. Jeno, being the diplomat he was, moved his face closer to Y/N's, cooing at him before encapsulating his lips once again.

The pleasure of the kissing distracted Y/N as the radiating pain from his lower body retreated and only a feeling of fullness remained. Jeno experimented with a small thrust, resulting in an audible moan Jeno heard through their connected mouths. He proceeded to pummel his thick rod into Y/N at a faster pace, enjoying the squeals of the former virgin who felt a constant pressure on his prostate and inside all areas of his passage.

Jeno continued further with a rough animalistic pounding that elicited the arching of Prince Y/N's back and moved him back and forth across the bed with each powerful thrust.

The feeling of the all encapsulating walls of Y/N hugging and squeezing Jeno's cock was emphasized through the various groans the older let out. Y/N was addicted to the pleasure of having his walls filled and stretched out fully, as well as the warmth of the large veiny cock inside him that sent waves of pleasure each time Y/N's prostate was brushed by.

Jeno's thrusts grew more greedy as he became less gentle, eliciting almost musical moans from Y/N, that sounded like he was asking for more. HIs manhood stretched out Y/N's hole fully and gave him a good dicking down that showed a king's true power.

The hilt of Jeno's thick cock smacked Y/N's rim with indescribably pleasureful force that Y/N's eyes could do nothing but roll back. The thought of a large, muscular man, such as Jeno, pounding him with a large cock that fit inside him like a key and satisfied the itch of emptiness inside him that arose earlier in the day led Y/N to a seventh heaven he knew he would have to reach again and again.

"Enjoying my large cock squelching in your boyhole, my prince? Petite little princes like you are designed perfectly for taking a large kingly dick that is far too large for any woman. I'll have you bouncing on my cock and asking for mercy through your moans like this for as long as the two of us live. I'll pound you to the point that you become mine and only mine, my cock is what you'll need to live every single day," Jeno proudly whispered.

The wet sounds of Jeno's large cock infiltrating Y/N's passage, along with their skin slapping together, filled the room with auras of sin and desire.

"UHHH, YESSS, fuck me as rough as you can, your highness. I can't get enough of your large dick, my king, I'm so glad you decided to take me and make me yours, that is exactly what I deserve to be, your cocksleeve and whore," Y/N responded with nothing but pleasure filling his head.

The sounds of sex became more unholy as Jeno's large cock released pre-cum that further lubricated Y/N's walls and increased the squelching, making both more horny as Jeno continued to wreck Y/N's hole mercilessly.

Jeno's golf-ball sized testicles slapped Y/N hard with each thrust, reminding Y/N what a true man's dominance was and felt like inside a bratty boy like him. Y/N wanted nothing more than to succumb to and embrace the fact that he was being manhandled by a true man whom he could never compete with. All he wanted was to be done again and again by Jeno's large cock, be subservient to his desires, be creamed and de-masculinated, and to have his slutty whoreish bussy pummeled like it was asking to be.

Y/N's hole began to slowly comform to Jeno's cock and grow used to it as the thrusts increased, sticking to his massive dick and not letting go of each vein as he pulled out prior to each thrust. Y/N's hole was basically becoming like a real pussy that bulged outwards almost like a flower blooming and reflected each action of Jeno's merciless cock.

Jeno bulged Y/N's stomach with each thrust, rearranging his organs in the process and growing his desire to breed the prince with copious amounts of cum deposited in his hole. Jeno continued to ravage and do Y/N with the sheer girth of his cock that entered Y/N's asshole like a lock fitting in a key. Y/N's prostate was being abused greatly with each rubbing of Jeno's cock's veins against it, resulting in waves of pleasure clouding the minds of both.

Jeno lost control and felt his climax nearing as he pulled out to his glans and pushed over six inches back all in one go for his last thrust, that pushed Y/N over the edge and led to his orgasm while Jeno released multiple spurts of thick cum into Y/N's passage, as a sort of signature on the documentation of their alliance. Jeno continued to push his cock further inside Y/N's hole as each spurt hit Y/N's walls more forcefully, overstimulating the younger. Y/N tiny hole remained stretched well by Jeno's fat cock inside of him that the prince begged to let remain inside.

Jeno reveled in his training of the younger prince and being the one pound and cream his greedy boypussy for the first time, knowing that peace between the kingdoms was secured for all eternity.

"This is a meeting I'll never forget," Y/N sighed with satisfaction while staring at Jeno.

[miley1442111]

admitting- b.floyd

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a/n: i got this idea from the comments of my last post with ranch! bob floyd so thank you to @nerdgirljen for planting this idea in my head!

summary: how bob finally gets what he wants

pairing: ranch! bob floyd x reader

warnings: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, slight praise and degradation kink, unprotected piv, talk of cum (i think that's it?)

----------------------

He’d had the dream again. He was a dad. You two had a baby girl and boy, twins. He was playing with them out in the field and you were by the picnic blanket, pregnant in one of your gorgeous sundresses. 

Fuck he wanted it so bad. 

He got out of your shared bed and walked downstairs, grabbing himself a cold cup of water. He chugged it down as his mind raced, thinking about your kids, how beautiful you’d look pregnant, how much he wanted to get you pregnant and-

Oh. Bob was hard. 

This had been an increasingly common issue in recent months, essentially since you two moved onto the ranch and got engaged. You both had chosen that you’d wait until after the wedding to start trying, since you wanted to have the wedding, a nice honeymoon, and a few months alone as newlyweds without kids or pregnancy to spoil your fun. 

If Bob had it his way? You’d already be pregnant. Since moving to Texas and with the summer was fast-approaching, you usually opt for sundresses, long skirts and breezy tops, or shorts with one of his light hoodies. Some days, you'd forego clothes all together and just walk around in a swimsuit or just your bra and panties.

It was driving him mad. Everyday, you looked so fucking good he could barely keep it in his pants. You two fucked like rabbits, in the morning, in the afternoon, and at night. But every time you did, the dreaded question of ‘do you have a condom?’ would dampen his fantasy. He didn’t mind, trust me, it’s just he knew how good you’d look with his kid inside of you, his marks on your neck, and his ring on your finger. 

“Are you thinking about it again?” you asked sleepily, leaning against him.

Bob’s face turned pink. He’d been caught, but how did you know? “Well baby… yeah.”

“I’m so excited,” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “It’s going to be amazing.”

Bob turned around from his position of leaning on the counter. His arms wrapped around you with his hands smoothing up your back and his lips finding yours in a sweet kiss. “Yeah, I can’t wait to be parents.”

Your head snapped up and looked at him quizzically. “What?”

Of course that wasn’t what you meant. He doesn’t exactly bring up his sexual fantasies that often, and when he does it’s usually just to do it raw, or from the back. He’s a pretty vanilla guy, but don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing. 

He stuttered his way through half a sentence before you cut him off. “I want to be a mom too.” 

He smiled at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your wedding was 4 weeks away, what’s the worst that could happen?

“And I want you to fuck a baby into me,” you whispered seductively and Bob’s brain short circuited. 

“Really?” he asked as you pulled his top up and over his head, kissing his neck. 

“Please Bob,” you begged and he knew he couldn’t say no. 

He grabbed your waist and turned the position around, now your back was against the counter and he was pulling off your clothes, leaving you bare in front of him. “Walkin’ around everyday in those damn sundresses, just waitin’ for me to fuck a baby into you, weren’t you?” he kissed up and down your neck as he groped you all over. 

You moaned at his words alone. When you two had sex, his accent came out a lot more, which was a definite turn-on for you. 

“I asked a question honey,” he stopped his kisses and delivered a soft smack to your ass. 

“Yes! Yes! Always for you! All for you!” you whined and he smirked. One thing no one would even truly understand was that, while he was the perfect gentleman outside of your bedroom (or kitchen counter, or bathtub, or couch, or stables, or car, or plane- yes it happened, but only once) he was down-right depraved in bed. His hands grabbed anywhere, his lips were all over your skin, and his dick? He was huge. 

“Good girl,” he cooed and you could feel yourself getting wetter. “My good girl, right?” You moaned out an incoherent agreement and his finger ran through your folds. “So wet for me, yeah?”

“All for you,” you whined. “Please I-I want it-” Your begging was lost in your throat as you felt his dick pushing in. The entire length of it was shocking, and the girth was something you’d never get used to. 

“Fuck,” he cursed. “You’re such a good girl, letting me take you like this, on the kitchen counter,” he cooed as he started to slowly move, wrapping his hand over your chin to turn you so he could watch you. His other hand landed on your hip, kneading the skin there. “You gonna’ let me fuck a baby into you?”

You nodded furiously as you moaned into his hand. “Please, I want it-”

“Be patient honey, you’ll get what you want,” he smirked. 

He picked up the pace as you screamed and moaned his name, something he’d never get enough of. Your voice as you screamed out in pleasure, as he was giving you that pleasure, he’d never stop loving it. 

“Bob! Bob, I-I’m close!” you whined. “Please don’t stop-”

“I’m not stoppin’ ‘till I put a baby in you,” he groaned and he felt your walls clamp down on him as you came, squirting all over his cock. He came with you. But he pushed himself and you through overstimulation and continued fucking you. His finger circled your over-sensitive clit, his cock was snapping in and out of you at a godly pace, and his cum shooting into you again, triggered another orgasm. 

He pulled out and plugged it with his finger, kissing you sweetly. “I don’t want you to waste any of it, yeah?”

You just nodded your head, to fucked out to even respond. 

“Good girl,” he smiled. “You’re going to be such a pretty momma,” he smirked as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, fucking his cum deeper into you. You leaned against the counter as he fingered you to another orgasm, spewing lines like “my perfect girl, ye’ gonna give me a baby?” and “Gonna look so beautiful pregnant with my kids,” and your personal favourite; “God you’re my whore, lettin’ me come inside like that.”

You came a lot that night. 

----------------------

He carried you back up to bed, dressed, and cleaned you up, then planted a soft kiss on your forehead as you fell asleep on his chest. 

Maybe he should admit his sexual fantasies more often. 

And maybe he should start painting the nursery.

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navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

topgun masterlist :) (requests open!)

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Woe, Bedrock Bros reincarnation AU be upon you! (And make it dark)

The Bedrock Kingdom's a weird one. Weird, in the fact that it never has to deal with a dispute over who sits on the throne. Weird because it never has to deal with the consequences of a weak-willed or greedy or bad leader.

Because, there is only one of two people on the throne: King Technoblade or King Theseus.

It’s a cycle. When King Technoblade ascends to the throne after the death of King Theseus, somewhere in Bedrock, King Theseus is born again. And a search is immediate to find the newborn prince. When he is found, he is brought to the palace and raised with love and affection until it is his turn to Ascend the throne after the death of King Technoblade. And then King Theseus starts the search for his heir/his friend/his brother/his father/his son.

Round and round the cycle goes. No one knows who was originally the older and who was originally the younger. Not even the Kings themselves. It took a few generations before they started writing things down that they wanted their Future incarnations to know.

Because the Kings don't remember their past lives.

The cycle begins anew when a Young Prince Theseus ascends to the throne. King Technoblade lived a long time this cycle, and King Theseus's prior incarnation had lived the longest of any recorded out of spite because someone said he couldn't.

So, the new King Theseus is young. An adult, but barely in his 20s. He's impulsive and a bit impatient and DESPERATE to get Techno back.

He reads through some of his predecessors’ notes and sees how it can sometimes take YEARS to find Techno and he is enraged by that concept. He is going to find Techno NOW. He will NOT be waiting years.

The search is begun and King Theseus spurs his subjects on to hurry or else and finally there is an infant put into King Theseus's arms and King Theseus beams with joy at finally having Technoblade back, ready to adore him and shower him with all of the love that King Theseus remembered getting growing up.

The baby is not Technoblade.

Techno grows up in some obscure village in the middle of nowhere. His parents have too many mouths to feed and when Techno is 12, he is kicked out to try and make a living on his own. Cruel, but also common in his poor town. Techno does what many from his home do in his situation.

He lies about his age and joins the army.

You can join the Bedrock Army at the age of sixteen. For two years, you are in training. Basically an apprenticeship. At 18, you are a full-fledged soldier. If you are REALLY good, you can even become a Knight.

Techno DEFINITELY doesn't look 16. He looks MAYBE a little older than 12, but that's just because of his height.

However, like I said, its COMMON for desperate kids to be kicked out. The Military is used to it.

They just check it off as all good and let Technoblade in.

And Technoblade is very very good at being a soldier. He picks up a sword and learns at record speed. Like he had done it a million times and just had to be reminded of the controls. His superiors LOVE him. His peers’ jealousy is erased because Techno is just so likable. He can be so quiet one moment and then the next say the funniest thing that has his whole platoon tearing up from laughter. He is well liked.

News from the capital shakes the entire foundation of the country when Techno is thirteen and soon to become an official soldier.

Prince Technoblade was a fake. The nobility tried to insert a false Technoblade in order to steal the crown from The Bedrock Bros. It was only found out because the young “prince” had begun to act off. When King Theseus had looked into it, he found the conspiracy.

No one dared ask what happened to the false prince, but the hangman’s noose was frayed from how many men and women were forced to their deaths.

A Search was called.

Techno's unit was tense. They were aware that many of the kids they let in would be in that age range, though they couldn't be sure how many because they HID their ages. They start taking a quiet audit of their child soldiers while also working as efficiently as possible to gather all of the 13 to 14 year old in their assigned section of the country.

When they start interrogating Techno about his age, he lies.

He says he's one year younger than he really is. His superiors slump in relief, grateful that they don't have to risk giving up their best soldier, the kid who will DEFINITELY become a knight and the pride of their home.

Techno is just grateful they bought it. He very much does NOT want to even be CONSIDERED to be a Prince. Sure, his parents may have named him after the Previous King, but that was COMMON. There were so many Technoblades and Theseus's running around the kingdom. It didn't mean anything.

However, the fact that the Military had to hastily “fire” a ton of soldiers means that they don't have enough to escort the kids to the capital AND protect their stations. So they have to be very efficient on where they place their manpower.

Techno is sent to herd the kids to the capital. He is…very not liking that. He will just stay in the back. Its fine. No one will know he's younger. He is tall enough that as long as they don’t make him take off his helmet, everything will be juuuuuussstttt fine.

They make him take off his helmet.

When they enter the palace, they are not allowed to cover their heads. Technoblade grimaces and bears with it and walks behind the other soldiers, herding the nervous teenagers into the palace. It takes forever. Each child is being examined by the King Himself, before being dismissed and given three gold coins for all the trouble. A pittance to nobility but a treasure to the working class. They go forward in a single file line, some shrinking under the cold blue eyes. Others marveling at the gleaming crown atop a mop of golden curls.

Some of the kids are waved through quickly. Others, the King pauses on before shaking his head. Even fewer get pulled aside and led further into the castle.

Technoblade's entire gaggle of teens is almost through when King Theseus orders them to stop. Techno glances up at King Theseus and sees the man staring at him with narrowed eyes.

King Theseus demands to know Techno's age and he says 16. The King stares at him. The whole room stares at him, really. King Theseus had talked to VERY few in this process.

The King smiles and its sharp and he begins to talk. It seems like pleasant conversation, at first, the King even cracking a silly joke or two. Acting younger than he looked. He then compares the situation to something that happened when Techno would have been young. Techno nods along like “Oh yes, of course I remember that”

King Theseus just smirks and says that there is no way he would remember, because he would have to be older than 16 to know it. Which means he's lying. How much is he lying? Technoblade kind of balks at that, not sure what to say. King Theseus asks again about Techno's age. Royal Knights, not just the soldiers he came with, start to close in on him. Techno can't help but reflexively put his hand on his sword as they approach. Before removing his hand when he sees the number of knights. He cringes before turning to King Theseus and telling him he turned fourteen three days prior.

King Theseus just grins and orders Techno to be taken with the others. Techno is embarrassed as he's led back through the palace.

He is stuck with a group of boys that all…look really similar to him. There are around six of them.

The Royal Knights demand that Techno take off his armor which Techno adamantly refuses to do. He is not going without armor in this place. It could be dangerous. They tell them that it is for the protection of the royal family that he cannot be so guarded. Techno snarks something at them about that, and the knight takes it personally.

Techno is now jumped by around eight royal knights determined to strip him out of his armor like an angry hermit crab. Techno fights and struggles and definitely breaks noses and fingers before the knights get a good hold and finally start peeling his armor off of him.

Cackling draws Techno's eye, even as he is pinned down and a swearing guard is pulling at the buckles keeping his armor on.

King Theseus arrives with a bright smile and too bright eyes. All of the teens in the room bow.

Except Techno, still pinned to the floor and trying to kick the guard attempting to take off his shinguards in the crotch.

King Theseus is certain that the teen struggling on the floor with a scowl is Technoblade. He is CERTAIN.

But he was certain before, as well.

His haste had cost him fourteen years with Technoblade. Time spent on a traitorous brat instead of the one who should have been by his side. He won't let his haste ruin things again.

He'll go by the book. As boring as that could be. It wasn't the first time there was a case of mistaken identity for one of the Royals. His predecessors had worked out contingencies for just that occasion.

King Theseus would have HIS Technoblade back.

Techno is given a nice room. Far nicer than the barracks he had lived in. But the way the nicely dressed boy was moaning, you would think they were locked in a jail. So what if they had to share a space? It wasn't THAT bad. Techno just claimed the bed that let him keep an eye on the door and mourned the fact that he was armorless. It SUCKED.

They are then all tested.

There are a bunch of tests, some that he isn't even sure if they ARE tests. The king is at every one. They are things like picking out clothes to wear, or organizing jewels to your preference. Technoblade finds it very boring and, honestly, he tries to fail. He picks out a boring outfit that is COMFY instead of finery. He organizes the jewels by taste, which is bullshit, they all taste like rocks, but he is annoyed that his intentional stupidity doesn't get him kicked out.

He enjoys the wolf dogs. That's pretty cool. Getting to go out and pet the very intimidating growly dogs was neat.

The kid that kicked one dog was IMMEDIATELY escorted out and away. It didn’t matter that the dog bit him hard enough to bleed.

Techno nearly gets out of having to take a different test because he was hidden under dozens of little wolf-dog puppy bodies. He will remember that hiding spot for future use.

There are a ton of tests. The ones trying to stay seem to try and recreate the reputation of the Blood God. King Theseus is known to be the kinder of the kings while King Technoblade has always been quick to anger and ruthless.

(This is bullshit. King Technoblade was the type to quickly mete out justice, but never hold a grudge. King Theseus is VENGEFUL. He burns down whole noble houses when he's mad. Sometimes literally. But most people don't realize that because he is so personable and extroverted.)

Techno doesn't understand why his chill personality doesn't get him kicked immediately when all of these other teenagers are doing their best to imitate rabid dogs.

Technoblade only once nearly gets eliminated.

King Theseus gave them free reign over the library and, out of all of the candidates, Techno was the only one uninterested. Didn't go inside even once. Completely ignored it.

King Theseus himself interrogates Techno on this. Because of nature vs nurture, some things are BOUND to change from lifetime to lifetime. But King Technoblade not being a total nerd about books?

Impossible. Never happened.

King Theseus is a little sad when he confronts Techno, ready to dismiss the kid with a heavy heart. It felt a bit wrong. But he would do what needed to be done. He wanted HIS Technoblade, not another fake.

The reason comes quickly.

Techno can't read.

King Theseus almost sighs in relief at that. He assigns Techno a teacher to learn. Techno is skeptical and takes this as a sign that he should lean into the books=bad mindset so he can go home.

Unfortunately, he finds that he very very VERY much likes books. He is found multiple times at dawn, bent over a book with his hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes. He ends up falling asleep during the other tests, much to King Theseus's annoyance and amusement. They end up having to lock the door to the library at night so Technoblade won't sneak out and hide in there.

It keeps going until there are only two left. Techno and the son of a very powerless noble. King Theseus asks them both a question during dinner, telling them to think about their answer for the night and tell him in the morning.

King Theseus asks them what should be done with an anarchist who wished to overthrow the monarchy.

Techno snorts at that while the other scowls at Techno. King Theseus ask Techno about his reaction.

Techno is VERY DONE with all of the tests and wants to leave. He wants to go back. And, even though it is probably a VERY stupid thing to say to a king, he tells King Theseus that at this point he would give the Anarchist a high-five and then go take a nap. Literally everyone in the room stares at Techno with varieties of horror and rage.

Except King Theseus who is cackling loudly. He dismisses both of them back to their room for the night.

The guards are kinda glaring at Techno for his comment, which Techno is glad for. Aha. He can finally leave! He's in the clear.

As soon as the door closes to the dormitory, the other boy stabs Techno in the back.

The noble boy’s family was told by more powerful families that if they could make King Theseus take their son, then they would bail them out of debt. But, if he wasn't chosen, then they should kill whichever boy was Actually Technoblade. Maybe, if they killed him before he could ascend, then the cycle would break and they could take control.

Which, in practice, WOULD break the cycle.

But Techno was a VERY good soldier.

Even with a knife sticking out of his back, he is able to overpower the other teen. The teen screams bloody murder, yelling for help. Guards flood the room and yank Techno off of the struggling teen. It hurts because thet pin Techno's arms behind his back, even with the knife still in place. The guards help the swearing noble off the floor, many glaring at Techno. Techno scowls back.

King Theseus comes in, scowling just as much and demands to know what happened. The noble kid smirks slightly, before he says he was just giving his answer to the question. What should be done with an anarchist who wished to destroy the royal family? Obviously, they should die.

King Theseus turns to Technoblade, still gripped by the guards and asks him if he has anything to say for himself. Techno glares. At the King. At the Noble. At the guards.

Techno responds that if a King has to stab someone in the back, he was too Weak to rule the country anyways. Might as well let it crumble. Noble kid just scoffs.

King Theseus nods for a moment before he grins, something sharp and cunning in his eye. He walks closer to Techno and Techno refuses to cower in front of the King, meeting his eye as if to dare him to do something.

Carefully, King Theseus wraps his arms around Technoblade and hugs him tight. The knife shifts and Technoblade can't help but gasp.

“Welcome home, Technoblade,” King Theseus would say, before ordering the guards to grab the noble and chop off his hand. He had stabbed the prince.

The kid begs for mercy as Technoblade is led out of the room, quickly down the hall with King Theseus's arm carefully over his shoulder. He is pushed into the Physician's office, who is very surprised to see a knife sticking out of a teen's back. Technoblade is made to lay down. He is given an anesthetic.

He tries to argue with King Theseus about him being the Prince, which is hard with the drugs. King Theseus is just giggling while playing with his hair. Techno makes noises of discontent whenever he is so far gone that he can't make words.

The King assures Techno that even if he finds the King annoying at first, he will learn to love him.

And then Techno spends way too much time trying to run, only for Tommy to find him wherever he hides. The King is Stream-sniping or something. I just have to get back to work so I can't keep fleshing it out. But yeah. King Theseus is going to be VERY possessive of Technoblade.

Anyways, sometimes you gotta make Tommy older. As a treat.

I'm so fucking obsessed with this one, Lenn, you don't understand, it's just dsqhqsdqdskjdssdqHsqkjsqqshqjskhqsksq. I kept needing to stop while reading it to flap my hands with happy stims.

The potential? Techno being so, so hostile and every little act of resistance he shows just makes Tommy coo over him like "aw, that's so Techno of you <3"

Tommy is going to be real obsessed with making up for lost time. Techno has suffered so much without him. He'll need to ascertain Techno has the best, most spoiled life from now on. Whether he wants to or not.

[trans-androgyne]

but what is WRONG about the statement “men and masculinity are privileged above women and femininity, so transmascs must be privileged above transfems”? that is sound logic, and it’s not disconnected from reality, because reality supports the idea that men and masculinity are privileged above women and femininity. even among trans people. that statement means “there is a particular scrutiny and struggle that women face that men do not”, not “men and masculine people aren’t ever oppressed and trans men don’t experience transphobia”. you seem to think that the issue is that not enough transfems/people are listening to what transmascs are saying about their own experiences, but when it comes to transfems talking about how their experiences with oppression are more severe, it’s perfectly ok for you to not listen to them?

Incorrect. The reality is that isn’t true for everyone, which is what we’ve been trying to demonstrate over and over. “Men and masculinity are privileged” when it’s cis men. Masculinity and identification with manhood is not encouraged above femininity for women or people believed to be women. Femininity for me would be gender conformity. Masculinity makes me transgender. And we are kicked in the teeth for it constantly, by both cis people and our own queer/trans community. All the worst stereotypes of both men and women are applied to us, as is true for trans women. If that supposedly common sense logic copy + pasted from narrow cisfeminist understandings were to be taken literally, transmascs would be privileged over cis women too gender-wise because masculinity is privileged over femininity, and we just Happen to experience transphobia with zero gendered oppression.

I am listening. I have been listening and agreeing and supporting for years and years and years. But other people speaking up made me realize my problems mattered too even if they didn’t fit into the narrative. And now this is my response. Now I want to be heard. I am telling you that my masculinity—my queer, my trans masculinity—is not fucking privileged above shit. I was nearly kicked out over it; I have been made to feel like I am ugly, worthless, and an inherently worse person for it; I am excluded from spaces I need resources from for it; I feel invisible in my community for it. Queer/trans masculinity gets you fucking harassed and assaulted — ask butches! Ask transmascs who don’t pass! Or the stealth ones who suddenly fail to, a nightmare situation for many of us. Look at the numbers for me — trans men and transmasc non-binary people have the highest rates of sexual assault of any gender category. It can and does happen to many due to being transmasc (including someone I know personally) even sometimes taking the route of corrective rape with the intention of “detransitioning” them. I feel less safe since I’ve started transitioning, not more. Before, I wondered if I was being stared at since I was pretty and had long hair. I would get catcalled. It felt gross. Now I wonder if I’m being stared at because I’m visibly queer. I still get catcalled. I feel less gross and more afraid.

We also experience things transfems and cis women don’t! “There is a particular scrutiny and struggle that trans men and mascs face that other people (typically) do not” that’s precisely what I have been trying to convey. And that’s exactly what our tag is full of. The belief that our oppression is “less severe” is mistaken, you just haven’t heard our voices enough. It is the result of our historical and compounding invisibility. We are speaking up and begging you to listen.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Okay so I know you're a big Dadstarion fan. So what do you think of Astarion and Gnome! Tav having a baby. (I'm not sure if it is quite possible given the size difference but let's say it is.) I couldn't help but start thinking about Astarion and a teeny tiny gnome baby the other day. Doing headcanons for this would be interesting I think 🤔

OK, so, I did some research. Apparently, there is a half-official sex guide that says that gnomes don't mate with elves. But there are no breeding rules at all. So, people suppose that unless it's human x elf or human x orc, the mixed kid just ends up inheriting one of their parents' race (so in this case Astarion will probably have a gnome kid whose elven ancestry will manifest in some minor details).

When I write fantasy I usually stay firm on biology issues (some races can have mixed kids, and some can't have kids at all coz they are different species - so they can just fuck without contraception which is good), but it doesn't have to be the common rule at all.

Masterlist

Headcanons The image of Astarion's daughter is inspired by Leroy van Vliet from Art Station (I love the ears)

So, you actually were sure it wasn't possible to make kids.

He is a vampire and he is an elf.

Gnomes don't mate with elves, that's for sure!

Do they?

Right?

When you find out you are pregnant, it's the worst time in your relationship.

You are afraid you don't remember being assaulted. Astarion blames you for infidelity.

Then, you are just afraid you can't carry a bigger child without consequences (elven kids are small that's for sure but not small enough for a gnome).

You often quarrel till you end up in tears. Once to twice you hit his knees with all the strength you have while insulting him in gnim.

But to your surprise, pregnancy goes... normal.

You go into labor when it's due and give birth to a gnome, just like you and all your relatives.

But with very familiar silver hair.

A gnome with elven ancestry, that's how it's called.

Astarion feels uneasy holding such a small child. She looks like a toy in his hands.

But the girl grows up looking very similar to Astarion - his facial features, his nose, his hair color, his crafty hands.

Just a different race.

Astarion jokingly calls her his pocket princess since she is small enough to be put in a bag when he needs to go somewhere.

Often, when Astarion takes a job helping an unfortunate person with shitty supernatural contracts, people can notice a little gnome looking out of her father's traveling sack.

"Here, princess, have an apple - daddy is busy"

And the little gnome keeps chewing an apple while looking at the world with her big green eyes.

As she grows, her mixed ancestry shows off.

She is way taller than other gnomes. 4 feet tall! A giantess!

Thanks to that she easily wears armor crafted by gnomes and the swords are all light to her.

But there is some miscommunication since Astarion subconsciously believes his gnome daughter is a baby when she isn't.

She is short, but ferocious and gorgeous- and you know that at least five young gnomes (three girls and two boys) can't take their eyes off her.

Outsiders sometimes assume she is an elf though bigger palms and a weird shape of ears betray her true nature.

Sometimes Astarion misses the days when he could fit his daughter into a pocket or a bag because now she is an adult who fights monsters and dates humans (because she has daddy issues and a thing for tall men).

But he still can carry her around, placing her on his shoulder while she gets angry for "being treated like that".

She actually doesn't mind. There are not many people who dare pick her up.

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[dunmeshistash]

I really enjoy your deep dives and analyses of all the characters, and Milsiril especially. I haven't done as much research and investigation as you have, but I have my own ideas about Milsiril. I think she's rather... delusional might be the word? I agree that Otta was probably exaggerating and she didn't actually consider the children that she adopted as pets, but I think that she didn't have what we might consider a normal perception of the children, specifically Kabru.

First of all, she seems to have a bit of an idealization of him that doesn't allow for his own opinions and personality. It's innocuous and not uncommon for a parent, but it feels to me as if she has an idea of how he is, and it confuses and upsets her when he doesn't follow the picture of her ideal world. Her decision to train him when he asks is far from complete acceptance of his goal. What she says is "until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." That implies that her goal is not entirely training him to be ready, but rather trying to convince him that he doesn't want this.

Secondly, I think that there's a lot of symbolism around the dolls. Bear in mind that these are all my own interpretations. First off, Milsiril's love and friendship for her dolls shows her as almost a child-like figure. Her dolls do what she wants them to, but they're people to her. She's a child in her own little world, and the kids she adopts might be a part of that-playmates, just like her dolls are. Bear in mind that I'm not trying to infantilize her or say that she has one, straightforward motivation. One of the things I love about Dungeon Meshi is how complex every single character is. She probably has many driving forces behind adopting children, but it seems to me like this might be one of them.

That's about all I have for her, at least at the moment. I think she might have some underlying mental illness or trauma that's skewing her perception of things, but I definitely don't agree with the people who think she's completely unstable or immoral. Thanks for looking at this!

Hey! Thank you!

Yeah I think the dolls is what lots of people use to say she likes to "manipulate" people or be in charge of them in a way, and I understand the symbolism of a puppet master since she has full control of these dolls and wont deny that might be something!

I'm not sure if I agree with this part tho.

First of all, she seems to have a bit of an idealization of him that doesn't allow for his own opinions and personality. It's innocuous and not uncommon for a parent, but it feels to me as if she has an idea of how he is, and it confuses and upsets her when he doesn't follow the picture of her ideal world.

I think Milsiril mostly can't keep up with Kabru getting older so fast since he's short lived, to me its almost like she sees him as a toddler when he's already a teen. And that's a common issue between long and short lived races so it's not something unique to her.

To me the reason she's so upset seems to be trauma from Utaya tbh. She was there and saw all those horrible things happen, it affected her so much she retired, and Kabru is the only survivor, a small frail child that lost everything and that now she sees like a son. Wouldn't you want to protect someone you see as a small scared child? Wouldn't you be upset if you learned they want to leave the comfort and safeness you created for them to go back into the horrible world that caused all that suffering he went through? I would.

I think people forget she's basically a war veteran.

She might not know him very well especially now that he left home but I think she knows him about as well as moms usually do, if you mean the cake thing I'm pretty sure she was aware Kabru didn't like elf cake and it's just a silly gag about her being upset he doesn't like her hometown sweet. (And probably also to show he does struggle with having two different backgrounds, Utaya and Milsiril) I think she knows he doesnt like it cause Kabru is never fake in front of her in the interactions we see, I'm pretty sure he tells her when he dislikes something and when he likes something. The other proof is how she took him to the family gathering even tho he didn't explicitly ask, she knew he wanted to go cause she knows that's the type of thin he likes.

About this

That implies that her goal is not entirely training him to be ready, but rather trying to convince him that he doesn't want this.

Yeah that's completely right! But I see that as an act of love on her part, even if its misguided and like, not great. She wants to prove to him he's too weak to go on his own because she seems him as a small child. If a 5 year old asked you to teach them to be a soldier so they can go to war how would you feel?

He isn't 5 tho and he clearly COULD take the training. Nothing indicates he ran away from her to be able to go and he talks about how she trained him and helped him study all that he wanted.

So even tho she said something bad and wanted to convince him the world out there was too cruel, she ultimately let go of him so he could do what he needed.

And Kabru even acknowledges she was right, the world WAS as shitty as she described and even worse. When he says he still doesn't want to go back where he has a soft bed and cake I don't think it's because he hated it there, but because he has the determination to face the cruel world she described cause he doesn't want Utaya to happen again.

Again about the dolls I think they're a source of comfort for her, she was clearly traumatized and going thru something her whole life, you don't get nicknamed "gloomy" for no reason, even her fellow canaries bullied her and thought she was weird.

The children she adopts might be an evolution of her doll thing I'll admit. But more in the sense they're a source of comfort for her, she was someone who was alone for most of her life, being able to love and be loved by children is probably something that makes her really happy. Even if her "motives" might be a little weird and she might not be fully altruistic (who is) what she does seem to be a net positive. Considering the two people we know that she helped (Mithrun and Kabru) she successfully helped them become independent of her. They were both vulnerable people in her care at one point but both are now independent and navigating life. (Mostly independent in Mithruns case but he doesn't need her in specific) That's my arguments to why she doesn't really treat real people as dolls, dolls can never become independent of you.