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starsinthesky5 · 1 hour ago

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you are in love: a snapshot into the past || joe burrow x reader

description: some background information to fill in some gaps about this series! covers what led up to their meeting, her albums & their stories, and a little bit about when they first met

universe: you are in love (click for parts 1-4 of the series)

a/n: this was mostly for me and i had lots of fun making it but i hope you enjoyed if you took a peek at it ;) i should've made this FOREVER AGO but here we are

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeyburrrow @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @majestic87 @grittysbiggestfan @definitelynotdomanique

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her previous albums:

album name: woodvale (first studio album)

about: With her debut album Woodvale, Y/N establishes herself as a masterful storyteller, blending deeply personal experiences with vivid narratives that feel both intimate and universal. From the very first note, she invites listeners into a world of nostalgia, heartbreak, and longing—where past and present blur, and every lyric feels like a carefully crafted confession.

Pulling inspiration from her own life, she weaves a cinematic experience through her songwriting, turning quiet moments into emotional landscapes. Tracks like “The 1” and “Cardigan” capture the bittersweet ache of what-ifs and lost love, while “The Last Great American Dynasty” expands her storytelling beyond herself, painting a rich portrait of a life lived wildly and without apology. The dueling perspectives in “Exile” (feat. Bon Iver) bring to life the unfortunate disconnect between two people who once understood each other completely--the song feeling like a conversation between two ill-fated lovers.

Her ability to capture emotion through complex lyricism is undeniable. The haunting “My Tears Ricochet” and the aching surrender of “Tolerate It” showcase her raw vulnerability, while “Mirrorball” reflects on the exhausting performance of always trying to be enough. She shifts effortlessly between different lenses—nostalgic and dreamy in “Seven”, reckless and longing in “August”, and unapologetically bold in “Mad Woman”.

But Woodvale isn’t just about heartbreak—it’s about self-discovery. “Willow” traces the pull of fate, while “Tis’ the Damn Season” and “Illicit Affairs” dive into brief love and the temptation of what’s never meant to last. “Cowboy Like Me” tells a story of two outlaws in love, pulled in by deception and desire, while “Betty” unfolds a tale of regret and redemption with the emotional weight of a late-night confession. Closing the album, “Hoax” leaves listeners with a quiet devastation—the realization that even the most painful love can still feel impossible to walk away from.

Through it all, Y/N proves that she is not just a songwriter but a storyteller in the truest sense. Woodvale is a world of its own, rich with characters, emotions, and moments frozen in time—an album that lingers long after the final note fades. A stellar debut from an artist who refuses to be confined by expectations, Woodvale is more than just an album—it’s an experience, a testament to the power of storytelling, and the mark of a rising star whose voice has already touched so many hearts.

noteworthy achievements at the grammy's: best new artist, song of the year: cardigan, best music video: willow, record of the year: willow

tracklist:

the 1

cardigan

the last great american dynasty

exile (feat. Bon Iver)

my tears ricochet

mirrorball

willow

seven

august

this is me trying

illicit affairs

tis’ the damn season

mad woman

cowboy like me

betty

tolerate it

hoax

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album name: is it over now? (second studio album)

about: Following the success of her impressive debut album, Y/N returns with her deeply personal sophomore album, Is It Over Now?—a raw, unfiltered reflection on love, betrayal, and the painful process of letting go. Split into two distinct halves, the album untangles the emotional wreckage left behind by a five-year relationship that was never what it seemed.

For years, she believed he was the one. He was charming, adored, and in the public eye as much as her, if not more—an actor (literally and metaphorically) who knew how to play his part. Even after the first betrayal, she clung to his promises, convincing herself that love was worth the risk. That he was worth it all. But when the lies continued and his betrayals became a spectacle for the world to see, she was forced to confront the truth: this wasn’t love. It was manipulation, disillusionment, and a lesson she never wanted to learn.

Side A: Confusion & Denial captures the internal battle—clinging to the good memories, questioning everything, and trying to convince herself that things could still be recovered. From the restless anxiety of “Out of the Woods” to the desperate plea of “Say Don’t Go,” she narrates the emotional highs and lows of a love that was always on the edge of collapse. But then, there’s "Opposite"—a moment of raw, painful clarity. In a bold move, she takes the risk of directly acknowledging his unfaithfulness, comparing herself to the other girl in a way that’s both heartbreaking and self-destructive. It’s the sound of a realization hitting all at once—that she was never what he truly wanted, that she spent so long trying to be enough for someone who was always looking elsewhere. The lyrics cut deep, the delivery is haunting, and for the first time on the album, she stops trying to rewrite the past and instead forces herself to see the truth.

It’s the turning point of Side A—the moment where the illusion starts to shatter, even if she’s not quite ready to let go yet.

Side B: Realization & Mourning is where the heartbreak settles in. With “You’re Losing Me” and “loml,” she accepts that the love she fought for was never real—just an illusion she refused to see. He promised her the world, giving her all the love she could've ever wanted, and she fell for it. But when he took it away, she got lost, she fell through and drowned. The ballads on this side are devastating in their honesty. "The Great War" paints this love as a battlefield, a war she fought tirelessly only to realize she was the only one still fighting. "The Moment I Knew" captures the exact second everything changed, when she could no longer lie to herself. And then again, there’s "loml"—possibly the most gut-wrenching track of them all and an album highlight. It’s not just about losing someone she loved, but losing the future she once saw so clearly. The title alone is a painful contradiction—love of my life—but he wasn’t, not really. He was the love she thought would last forever, but instead, he became a lesson, a ghost of what could have been. In the album's final track, “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” she looks back, no longer grieving the relationship, but regretting everything, and mourning the version of herself she lost in it.

After battling for her voice in the industry less than a year before working on this album, she never expected to have to fight for herself in love too. But Is It Over Now? isn’t just about the destruction—it’s about survival. It’s about facing the truth, even when it’s painful, and finding the strength to finally walk away despite the painful ache in your heart.

Where Woodvale introduced her as a masterful storyteller, Is It Over Now? proves just how versatile she truly is. Sonically, this album expands far beyond the dreamlike, folk-infused melodies of her debut, diving straight into a more dynamic and emotionally, even pure pop charged production. From the explosive, frantic energy of "Out of the Woods" to the stripped-down devastation of "loml", every track is carefully crafted to match the emotional weight of the lyrics.

She experiments more than ever before—incorporating synth-pop with raw, heartfelt ballads, balancing soaring vocals with moments of quiet destruction. It’s proof to her ability to evolve, to push her sound in ways that feel both unexpected and inevitable. With this album, she’s taking control, writing her own ending, and proving that she is far more than just the girl who got her heart broken.

noteworthy achievements at the grammy's: coming after part 5 ;)

tracklist:

side a: confusion & denial

is it over now?

out of the woods

wonderland

question…?

all you had to do was stay

say don’t go

opposite

now that we don’t talk

side b: realization & mourning

the great war

the moment i knew

you’re losing me

loml

how did it end?

would’ve could’ve should’ve

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What led up to her meeting Joe?

After barely surviving the worst breakup, betrayal, and fallout of her life, Y/N was left shattered. She had already spent an exhausting year fighting to prove herself in the music industry—drowning out accusations that she was just a "one-hit wonder," an "industry plant," or that she only made it because of her "connections." She was constantly battling for her place, for her voice, for respect despite breaking records and adding beautiful achievements to her name. And just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, the breakup happened.

It was everywhere—plastered across every screen, magazine cover, and news report. There was no escaping it. Her ex, in a desperate attempt to salvage his own reputation, spun lies and manipulated the media, trying to paint her as the villain to cover up his own repeated affairs. It was humiliating, exhausting, and isolating. She didn’t know who to trust, how to navigate the relentless scrutiny, or if she would ever truly escape the shadow of it all. Her mind was a madhouse, filled with thoughts such as, "it was all my fault" or "i wasn't enough. i'm never enough", and even "what he did was right. i'm not worth it".

She was drained. Tired of fighting. Tired of proving herself. Tired of trying to find solid ground when the world seemed determined to pull her under. Tired of trying to find someone who would reciprocate the love she gave. Music was her outlet, and then came this album. It was met with immense criticism and skepticism because of the way her ex was running the story in the media, but as much as that destroyed her, she couldn’t show it. This was her work, her passion, her love.

Before she drowned in those hellish waters, she felt a hand reach down and pull her back up.

Joe.

It wasn’t really an instant fairytale. She had spent so long being burned by people who claimed to love her, by an industry that made her question her worth, by a world that had watched her heartbreak like it was a scripted drama. She didn’t trust easily—not anymore.

But Joe was different.

He was patient. He never asked for anything, never demanded pieces of her she wasn’t ready to give. He saw the walls she had built around herself and never tried to tear them down—he simply stood outside of them, waiting, showing her in quiet ways that he wasn’t going anywhere.

He was steady. In a world that never stopped spinning, he was the one thing that didn’t waver. He understood what it meant to be under a microscope, to have people expect you to be perfect, to never show weakness. But with her, he didn’t pretend. He let her see the exhaustion behind the confidence, the weight of the pressure he carried. And in return, he let her be real too—no cameras, no expectations, just her.

He didn’t see her as a headline. Not as the girl in the tabloids, not as the singer everyone had an opinion about. He saw her—really saw her. The way she overthought things, the way she tapped her fingers against her leg when she was anxious, the way her eyes softened when she talked about music. He listened, not just to respond, but to understand.

He never pushed, never asked her to let him in before she was ready. He just was—constant, unwavering, a presence she didn’t realize she had been missing until he was there.

And slowly, something shifted.

She started to believe again. In herself. In love. In the idea that maybe, just maybe, she was never as alone as she thought.

With Joe, she discovered what love truly was. It wasn’t the whirlwind promises or the flashy gestures, the "I’m going to marry you" act that her ex had put on for so long—those grand declarations that ultimately meant nothing when they were just empty words to cover up his lies. Joe didn’t need to put on a show. He loved her without needing to perform for her, without any manipulation or games. He showed her that love didn’t have to come with conditions. It didn’t need to be proven with flashy promises or grand, public declarations—it was in the quiet moments, the consistency, the way he would show up for her without hesitation.

In the past, she had been so caught up in the illusion of what love was supposed to look like—the idea that if someone truly loved you, they would chase you, claim you, make bold promises about the future. That’s what her ex had given her—the "I’m going to marry you" act that, in hindsight, was just a performance, a way to keep her tied to him while he continued to betray her. It was about control, not love. She had gotten lost in it, thinking that because he talked about forever, it meant forever was guaranteed. But she had learned the hard way that promises made in the heat of a moment could be shattered with the same ease as the person who made them.

Joe showed her love was different. He didn’t just say the words—he showed them through actions, through trust, through patience. There was no rush, no need to lock her down or convince her she was his. He never pressured her into any promises, never made her feel like love came with deadlines or expectations. He simply loved her for who she was, not for the version of herself she thought she needed to be.

He knew she was for him. He didn’t need her to figure it all out overnight—he was willing to give her the space to heal, to trust again, to find herself in a relationship that wasn’t defined by pressure or insecurity. And slowly, piece by piece, she started to feel it too. She started to trust that this love wasn’t momentary, that it wasn’t built on promises made for the wrong reasons. It was steady, real, and above all, it was hers. Joe had never tried to rush her, never pushed for more than she was ready to give, and in return, she slowly began to realize—he was the one she’d been waiting for all along.

But there was still a part of her that couldn’t shake the weight of her reputation. After the public breakup and the media circus that followed, she felt like every move she made was under a microscope. Her reputation was in the dirt—scrutinized, distorted, and painted with all the wrong colors. The tabloids fed off her heartbreak, and her ex had done everything in his power to tarnish her name, making her feel like her worth was wrapped up in what the media said about her. She couldn’t escape the whispers, the judgments, the assumptions that followed her every step.

But then, Joe showed her something she hadn’t realized she needed: he loved her because of her. Not because of the persona the world had made her into, not because of the reputation she was forced to wear. He loved her for the person she was behind all of it—the one who laughed too loud, the one who stayed up late making music, the one who cared deeply and unapologetically. He didn’t care about the headlines. He saw past them, past the layers of gossip and scandal, and loved her for her heart.

And that’s when it clicked. Slowly, she began to understand that her reputation wasn’t defined by the media or the public. She didn’t have to be a product of what people thought of her. She made her own reputation. She wrote her own story. With Joe by her side, she realized that she could be more than what the world had decided for her. She could rewrite her narrative, build her legacy, and finally, feel at peace with who she truly was.

When and how did they meet?

July 4th. The Hamptons.

A party she really didn’t want to go to. Especially not while being the talk of the town…for all the wrong reasons. There were no friends, nobody she felt like she could talk to or lean on for the night, but according to her team, it would be good for her reputation if she was seen acting unbothered, happy, and fresh, even though she was far from it.

She almost backed out last minute, knowing the media would be there, waiting for any sign of weakness. But, as always, her team had convinced her it was the right move. So, reluctantly, she walked into the crowd of people, putting on the mask of someone who had everything together—when, in reality, she was falling apart inside.

She tried to keep to herself at first, avoiding the cameras and trying to stay away from conversations that felt like traps. It wasn’t long before she found herself standing by the railing, looking out over the water, trying to escape the noise and the pressure. And then, there he was.

Joe Burrow.

He wasn’t like the other people at the party. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone or play any part in the show. He just stood there, leaning against the wall, his eyes calm and steady, as if the whole world didn’t exist except for the moment they shared. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what drew her to him—he seemed unaffected by the world around him.

When their eyes met, she felt something shift inside her, but she couldn’t quite place what it was. He smiled, just a small, genuine smile that seemed to say, “I get it.” Without any words, he made her feel…seen.

She knew of him, but not too much about him. He was a star in his own right—one of those people who seemed to exist in a different world, far from hers but also so incredibly close. She had heard his name, seen the headlines, but the details never really stuck. At least, not until that night.

But him? Oh, he knew more than she realized. He’d never admit it, but he’d definitely spent more time than he’d care to tell scrolling through her Instagram page, his finger hovering over the follow button more times than he could count. There was something about her that pulled him in—something in her eyes, her story, the way her music resonated with him in a way he hadn’t expected. He admired how she carried herself, how she navigated everything thrown at her with a grace he couldn’t help but respect.

They ended up talking, first about something insignificant, just filling the space between them but eventually agreeing that small talk felt too calculated. That's when the conversation quickly flowed into something deeper. She felt comfortable with him in a way she hadn’t felt with anyone in a long time. She talked about the media storm she’d been in, about the pressure she was facing, and he listened, really listened. There were no judgments, no comments about how she should act, no advice on how to handle her image. Just quiet understanding.

And then there was her beauty. He couldn’t deny it, no matter how hard he tried. It wasn’t just the kind of beauty you saw in photos or on red carpets. It was the kind that lingered, the kind that came through in the smallest moments—the way she laughed, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved. There was a depth to her that went far beyond her image, and that was what drew him in.

She was too cautious, too guarded. But in that moment, she saw something in him she hadn’t seen in anyone else for a long time: a genuine connection, a space where she could be real. Slowly, very very slowly, she let herself open up, and for the first time in a while, she didn’t feel like she had to pretend. Even though she was only opening the door a crack, it was more than enough for Joe to understand her.

Joe wasn’t trying to fix her or be her savior. He wasn’t even trying to impress her. He was just there. And somehow, that was enough.

They left the party together, not because they had some grand plan but because, in each other’s company, they found a sense of peace. That night marked the beginning of something neither of them could have predicted—but something that felt right.

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And then, in the blink of an eye, they went from two strangers who had been through hell and back, to two souls who connected and found each other when they needed each other the most.

It wasn’t anything like a grand or dramatic revelation...it was quiet. Subtle. But in those moments, in the way they spoke to each other, the way their worlds just fit, something clicked. They had both walked through their own storms, faced battles that left scars, but now, they were standing together, joined by the unspoken understanding of what it meant to fight and survive.

In him, she found someone who could see her for exactly who she was—no duplicities, no expectations, just her. And in her, he found a strength he hadn’t realized he needed. It was like they had been written into each other’s lives, without even knowing it.

And that’s when he became her muse.

Her heart, her story, her music—all of it began to reflect him, not in the obvious ways, but in the quiet, soulful details. The way he showed up for her, the way he understood her without needing to explain everything, began to pour into her songs, her lyrics. She started to write not just about her pain or her past, but about something new—a love that didn’t need to be perfect to be real, a love that gave her the freedom to be herself.

He inspired her, not by trying to be someone she needed him to be, but by simply being who he was—steady, patient, unwavering, loving. In that, she found the courage to open her heart again, to let someone in without fear of what the world would say.

And in the way he loved her, she found herself again.

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album name: reputation (third studio album)

about: Reputation isn’t just an album—it’s a statement, a love story, a resurrection. It’s the sound of someone who’s been torn apart by the world, stitched herself back together, and come out stronger than ever.

The first half of Reputation is fire and fury. A continuation of Is It Over Now?, it picks up the shattered pieces of betrayal and weaponizes them. She isn’t just mourning anymore—she’s setting the record straight. It begins with "…Ready For It?", a pulse-pounding, electrifying opener that feels like stepping into the arena, lights flashing, heartbeat racing. It’s the sound of someone who’s been through hell and come out stronger, faster, untouchable. She’s setting the stage, daring anyone to come for her again—because this time, she’s ready. "Cassandra" also opens the album like a warning shot, the voice of a woman who’s always known the truth but was never believed. Then, she unleashes her anger with "Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?" and "I Did Something Bad"—tracks dripping in revenge, anger, and unshakable confidence. "Look What You Made Me Do" is her reckoning, a complete shedding of her past self and the media’s portrayal of her. And then there’s "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived"—a ruthless, poetic final word to the man who shattered her trust. She takes shots at the industry, too—those who tried to control her, silence her, toss her aside. But with "My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys", she turns the camera back on the men who love to build women up just to break them down. It’s biting, it’s brutal, it’s cathartic.

Then comes "The Prophecy"—the final moment of doubt. Was she always meant to be the girl who was burned by love? Was her fate already written?

Then, "I Can See You" happens. Track 9...a special ode to a certain someone. A turning point. The moment she lets herself feel something new. The production shifts—lighter, warmer, more hopeful. Suddenly, she’s no longer writing from a place of anger or pain, but something entirely new: desire, love, and happiness. "So It Goes…" turns up the heat, sultry and hypnotic, a slow-burning realization that love can be intoxicating in the best way.

Then, "So High School" bursts in—youthful, giddy, pure. It’s the rush of falling, the way love makes you feel like a teenager again, sneaking glances across the room, giggling at inside jokes, feeling untouchable. The euphoria of it is undeniable.

"Delicate" is hesitant, but the moment she realizes this is different. "Gorgeous" is playful, full of infatuation, while "Labyrinth" captures the beautiful fear of falling too fast. And then, "You Are In Love"—a song so soft, so certain, it feels like an exhale after years of holding her breath. "Dress" is all-consuming passion, love in its most vulnerable, intimate form. And "Call It What You Want"? That’s her reclaiming happiness on her own terms. A standout in this beautiful album as she tells the tale of the past year of her life, herself.

"But Daddy I Love Him" is playful defiance, a rebellious whisper, a knowing smirk—she’s heard all the warnings before, but this time, she’s listening to her own heart. "New Year’s Day" is love’s quietest, truest promise—the kind that lasts long after the fireworks fade.

But it’s "End Game" that cements it all. A bold, sweeping declaration of two people with big reputations, two people who have seen the worst of the world and still found each other. It’s love against the odds, the thrill of knowing that despite everything—despite the noise, the criticism, the doubters—this was always meant to.

And then there’s Karma—one of the most satisfying moments on the album. A reminder that she doesn’t need revenge anymore. Karma will handle that for her. Because she’s too busy being happy.

Sonically, Reputation is her most dynamic, most versatile work yet. It moves effortlessly from dark, moody production to shimmering synths, from bass-heavy anthems to stripped-down confessions. It’s grand and cinematic, yet deeply personal. It’s both a middle finger to the past and a love letter to the future.

She told us she was going to write her own story. And this? This is the greatest plot twist yet.

noteworthy achievements at the grammys: coming soon...

tracklist:

...ready for it?

cassandra

who's afraid of little old me?

i did something bad

look what you made me do

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

the smallest man who ever lived

the prophecy

i can see you

delicate

gorgeous

labyrinth

you are in love

dress

call it what you want

so high school

daylight

so it goes

don't blame me

but daddy i love him

i don't wanna live forever (ft. zayn)

this is what you came for

"slut!"

sweet nothing

new year's day

i can do it with a broken heart

this is why we can't have nice things

endgame

karma

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--The End--

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #yail #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joe burrow bengals #joey b #joe burrow fan fic

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cawslew · 3 days ago

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Recently, I've been thinking about making a Yuu OC (not a Yuusona since I don't personally project myself onto the MC, haha). But I've started to think about what concept to use for it, and I came to the conclusion that the best one could actually be Beauty and the Beast.

I will be referring to the MC Yuu in this post with they/them pronouns, and this includes the loop theory somewhat.

The Core Concept: In Beauty and the Beast, the enchanted rose symbolizes a curse tied to time: the rose wilts as time runs out, representing a curse that can only be broken when someone learns to love and be loved in return. (This can be interpreted in TWST as Yuu and others dealing with the other characters' traumas.) The prince (and his kingdom) must endure the curse, with time running out, represented by the petals of the rose falling one by one. Similarly, Yuu’s curse could involve being part of the repeating time loop that seems to be happening, always experiencing resets and a slow, inevitable progression toward breaking the curse, but never fully remembering or understanding why they are trapped.

Yuu's significance in the story is essentially hidden from the viewers as well, not being the prince (or the hero, per se), but still very essential to breaking the curse altogether. Yuu would be constantly resetting time (or it being reset by someone else), playing a seemingly insignificant BUT essential role in the other characters' lives, (just like the rose is tied to the Beast’s fate), but unaware of how they’re part of the larger narrative.

Flower of Evil: In the Beauty and the Beast story, the rose isn't immediately understood to be the key to breaking the curse; it's, however, insignificant much later. Similarly, Yuu doesn't seem to be the focus in the story nearly at all, mostly being in the background and letting the other cast members shine. However, they are not insignificant, as their small actions, the pure fact that they're in the story, change the outcome.

Time Loop and Cyclical Fate: The key to the curse in Beauty and the Beast is time: the petals of the rose fall one by one, symbolizing how the curse will soon become irreversible unless the Beast learns to love. This is exactly what connects the time loop into the story: being stuck in an endless cycle with no clear way of getting out. Constantly trying to undo a tragedy or break the curse without knowing how.

Grim's Role: In Beauty and the Beast, the Beast is cursed due to his arrogance and emotional distance from others. In Twisted Wonderland, Grim exhibits similar traits in his pride, independence, and reluctance to form deep bonds. From the beginning, Grim presents himself as someone who values self-sufficiency and is proud of his identity as a cat-like creature with a fiery, chaotic personality. He doesn't want to appear weak or dependent on others, which mirrors the Beast's own fears of vulnerability.

One key difference, though, is that in Twisted Wonderland, Grim doesn't start off arrogant in the same way as the Beast. Instead, his insecurities stem from his lack of magic (I say "lack of magic" as he seems to only be able to perform some form of fire-based magic) and his mysterious background. He’s often seen as an outsider because he doesn’t fit in with the rest of the students at Night Raven College. His lack of magic makes him feel inferior, much like how the Beast initially feels weak and powerless in his own kingdom. The way Grim compensates for this sense of inadequacy is through his chaotic behavior, boasting about his non-existent magical power and getting himself into trouble.

Struggle with Identity: Grim’s identity crisis is a key part of his character arc. In Twisted Wonderland, Grim doesn’t remember much of his past or how he came to be. He's somewhat isolated and disconnected from his history. Grim's struggle with not having magic is a constant source of self-doubt. Despite his fiery nature and potential (shown by his dragon-like features and the occasional display of destructive fire magic), he feels weaker than the other students who have proper magical abilities. This creates a divide between him and the rest of the students, much like the Beast’s own struggle with his appearance and cursed form.

Relationship with Yuu (The Beast Tamer and Its Beast): Grim's relationship with Yuu closely mirrors the Belle/Beast dynamic, but it plays out more gradually, reflecting Twisted Wonderland’s tone. Initially, Grim doesn’t respect Yuu much and sees them as someone to help him out of difficult situations (a henchman), like getting food or fulfilling tasks. His relationship with Yuu starts out as pragmatic, with Yuu merely being a means to an end.

However, as time passes, Grim begins to realize that Yuu’s presence is crucial to his growth, and above all, Grim begins to value Yuu’s presence as a friend. Grim’s usual chaotic behavior hides his insecurities, but Yuu, through their empathy and steadfastness, slowly builds a genuine bond with him. Grim’s reluctance to form a connection mirrors the Beast’s own struggle with opening up to Belle. While Grim’s pride initially prevents him from acknowledging the depth of this connection, it becomes evident over time that Yuu’s presence makes them a source of emotional support that Grim never knew he needed. This mirrors the Beast’s eventual realization that love and emotional connection are more powerful than pride or power.

The Inner Conflict and Fear of Abandonment: Grim’s behavior is often driven by an intense fear of abandonment and rejection. In Twisted Wonderland, Grim’s past is largely unknown, and it’s possible that he has experienced past traumas or abandonment, which drives his chaotic and self-sufficient behavior. This emotional vulnerability is something he hides behind his outward appearance of confidence and independence. Grim has a strong desire to be accepted, but his fear of rejection makes him push others away before they can hurt him.

Much like the Beast’s fear of being unloved, Grim’s reluctance to trust Yuu in the beginning stems from his insecurities. He fears that if he opens up, Yuu will realize that he’s not special or magical, and will eventually abandon him. This plays a significant role in his initial coldness toward Yuu and his chaotic behavior.

And as we see in the story, as it goes on, Grim learns to accept Yuu’s presence and care for them deeply. His emotional growth is slow, but the bond he forms with Yuu helps him out.

The Loyalty: Despite his pride and selfishness, Grim is fiercely loyal to Yuu, even when he doesn’t outwardly show it. He often complains about Yuu and is quick to criticize them, but his actions reveal his true feelings. Grim, however, consistently stays by Yuu’s side, assisting them in their trials, whether they’re fighting off enemies or navigating school events. Yuu is the one person Grim can count on, and while he tries to pretend otherwise, his loyalty deepens over time.

This mirrors the Beast’s loyalty to Belle, who helps him and his castle, even when he’s initially rude or ungrateful. Like the Beast, Grim’s emotional connection to Yuu grows because he learns to appreciate them for who they are, not for what they can do for him, but for the way they help him grow emotionally.

Grim as the Figure of "Beast": Grim fits into the role of the Beast in this concept in a way that Twisted Wonderland supports. He’s often seen as a chaotic troublemaker, misunderstood by the others and struggling with his emotional vulnerabilities. He’s also a creature that seems to have greater power than the story at the moment showcases or is able to reveal. His insecurities about his magic make him afraid to reveal his true self. His emotional volatility and fear of being abandoned lead him to push people away, making him initially similar to the Beast before his transformation.

#TWST #twisted wonderland #twst Yuu #twst grim #somewhat of a theory #Theory #HC #Exploration #.txt

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chiisana-sukima · 2 days ago

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Saw that you also wanted to be asked this and I’d love to here your thoughts too. Exact same ask: What’s your thoughts on the idea of Soulless Sam losing his inhibitions and so giving into his darkest desires, and sexually assaulting Dean (which is how the vampire turning scene is read). I often see this tied to the idea that because of the incestuous deal and Azazel’s blood, Sam’s tainted and has this inherent darkness, specifically playing around the idea Sam’s sexuality is dark and perverse, and he harbours these feelings towards Dean and desires to assault him but feels shame and guilt for it. But as Soulless Sam he doesn’t. This reading always felt a little weird and uncomfortable to me but I couldn’t put into words why

In terms of the canonicity component, I have nothing to add to what @aliusfrater said. In isolation, I do think it's fair to read that look in Live Free or Twihard as at least metaphorically sexual, but it's one camera shot with no dialogue doing an awful lot of work in 327 hours of television.

This reading always felt a little weird and uncomfortable to me but I couldn’t put into words why

This is the part I wanted to write about. It feels weird and uncomfortable because it's an especially volatile subcategory of rape fantasy presented using the structure and language of an academic argument.

I feel like I should disclaimer that rape fantasies are fine and normal (and among my personal faves) and that stories are meant to serve people, not vice versa, so I'm not complaining about either the content of these headcanons or their lack of support in the canon version of spn per se. What's frustrating is the way the meta format mixes together assertions of fact about the source material, assertions of fact about rl, and shit an OP made up out of thin air because they thought it was hot, and turns it all into an indiscriminate fact-y sounding stew.

No, actually. No he isn't and no it wouldn't.

Another part of the uncomfortable feeling, at least for me, is the way fandom does intimacy backwards. First we put our blorbos in Situations, then we talk about our favorite Situations and why we love them, then we talk about politics, and then if we really, really like each other, we might discuss the weather. And it's all done in public, often without direct communication.

Usually I love that for us, but sometimes it causes problems we don't have great protocols for solving. I feel super-uncomfortable scrolling past 'It makes a tragic kind of sense that a csa survivor would grow up to be a rapist' without adding 'speak for your own damn self', and I think that's entirely fair of me.

Butttt, I can also guess that an OP who looked at Sam having smoking hot consensual sex and thought 'looks like rape to me' probably has a reason. Maybe the reason is poor sex ed. Probably not.

(Another part of the problem: that 'probably not' was a lie for politeness' sake. I went to the OP's dash and I know they have a reason other than poor sex ed. But I'm not supposed to say that, or especially have guessed it beforehand, despite the fact that such experiences are incredibly common and isolating, and despite the fact that knowing that information makes the OP's error more sympathetic. Because we're supposed to be ashamed that we were victimized, and never speak of it again. So if I could be assed to follow social norms, we would now have two survivors of sexual violence arguing about sexual violence--though only indirectly with each other--and both pretending their only investment was detached academic concern for the sanctity of the canon of a stupid 2000s era ghost-hunting melodrama. Which we both probably like in large part for the exact reason we're not supposed to admit to. Nobody wins that fight but patriarchy).

And you know, ig the thing that's most murky, and therefore most uncomfortable of all for me personally, is how I feel about the fact that this is so obviously a Dean girl (gn) take about Sam. Idek why that's so clear or why I care. I actually really enjoy "soulless Sam, freed of his guilt and inhibitions, does evil sexual things to Dean" fics. One of my all-time favorite fics (Flying Weight by flesh) is in this genre and is even about the vampire bite in Twihard. And I can't always tell, nor do I ever even care, whether they're written by Sam fans or Dean fans. But the chances of a Sam girlie conceptualizing it all this specific way, with the Evil Desires from the csa/demon blood and the predatory (consensual) sex and all, and then writing it all down as a meta, idk man, it would just never happen. And I'm kinda icked out that a meta that posits Sam as a csa survivor also so clearly uses him as a cardboard prop.

And on the one hand, yeah, they're all barbie dolls and everything, so who cares. But on the other, I hope if I wanted to write a meta, for example, about Dean correctively raping Sam in the panic room as part of the demon blood cure, I would build a more careful frame around it. One where it was clear what aspects I thought were consistent with canon, what aspects I thought were plausible in a semi-analogous rl situation, and what ones I just thought were hot.

I was really mad at the OP of the post I took that screenshot up there from when I read the meta and I'm glad I managed to slow down enough to be way less of a douche about it than I initially wanted to be. Maybe this is still too much of a douche, idk. Anyway, ty nonny for giving me the opportunity to process it all.

#spn meta #wincest #cw rape #cw csa

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fruitmouse · 3 months ago

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maybe one day he/she will make a comeback. just maybe

#the way i want people to refer to me is always entirely dependent on how i. look? 😭#being genderfluid sucks and also rules like wdym it just changes. dude i don’t know #i’m impartial to they #pronoun order is almost entirely just to be perceived correctly 😭#they forward is like Hey i’m not. a dude btw. but i definitely do prefer he from people who don’t know me #so he forward usually takes precident #i think if i ever get top surgery suddenly she would be like. fine?? gang i don’t know #i mean she IS already fine in certain contexts. i definitely prefer it at work at least #like again it’s all a perception thing #pronouns to me are a form of expression rather than identity. how i ‘look’ and how i’m ‘referred to’ are both tied to how people perceive me #yk #so prns are sort of ‘part of the look’ in a sense?#whatever’s going on in this brain of mine is between me and whoever’s been unfortunate enough to hear me try to explain it LMAO #anyway. all this to say i’m getting gender envy from women again #universe give me one useless magical ability to let my hair be any length i want to to be Pleeeease please please Please #me and wigs are just not compatible sorry #that and its not really just about how *other* people see me i also just. want to Have It sometimes #just to myself #you know?#sometimes i want hair that falls right past my shoulders. real bad #but it’s usually more of a fleeting thing #more often i want it about how it is? a little longer if i can ever learn to maintain it but #sigh #i talk about my hair too much but it really is kind of integral to my identity and presentation #like when my hair isn’t cooperating i don’t get upset bc i look bad i get like. really violently dysphoric it’s wild

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crossbackpoke-check · 6 months ago

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Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)

art kid luke hughes

#joy i feel like i should’ve known it would be you wrecking my shit by saying this ->#no one tell me what it’s about i want to think about jack as a fixed point forever #like. please. please. why would you. & also why are these like miyazaki/indie coming of age documentary closed captions u know what i mean #anyway in a moment of brief insanity i thought about the devil!nico snapping his fingers to make jack first overall wherever he wanted #and the concept of things that would always have happened it’s just a matter of how you get there #no matter where your eye starts it always ends there no matter where your threads weave in the web of fate all the knots end up tied. fixed #(nolan going to vegas) it’s just the path you took to get there was a little different is all.#hi. it's me. five+ hours later. remember the brief aforementioned moment of insanity #yeah so we lost it in a completely different directions sorry?#if i had a nickel for every time i entered a hughes brothers induced narrative webweaving fugue state i'd have two nickels #which isn't a lot but relative to the amount i think about them kinda is and also it's weird it happened twice #also i'm not apologizing for hearing “art kid” with fixed point (one perspective? my googling of art terminology did not yield results.#luke baby girl i think you've got the wrong term.) and immediately jumping to science (math and ecosystem management) because. that's art #luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #vancouver canucks #new jersey devils #my cat would very much like for me to go to bed and snuggle however. i was possessed. (AND i just learned how to do small text)#so now all of you get to have worms for brain at 12:30AM too ok ily good night!!!!!#i lied actually i need to tell you guys things because number one EYE have no idea where this came from number two the things i do know #i have no idea if the red string meme it's all coming together points make any sense to anyone but me. SO FIRST #function defined by itself (43 superscript added by me) it's luke defining fixed point. he's cited.#perspective used to stage narratives!!! the history of perspective in art is honestly so interesting and i think actually this started #because i was trying to find a definition for fixed point in art and couldn't get one but found the article talking about #how historically perspective is used for geometric and architecture in paintings to add reality i.e. vermeer's squares #because our brains are SO hardwired to believe perspective “the illusion of geometric regularity and spatial recession... is nearly impossi #liv in the replies #said more but tumblr ate it bc it was too many tags & now we're on hour six i am not rewriting just know it was good. past/present/future l #it was not well articulated & i wanted to do perspective lines & also it could be better collaged but if it looks bad.. that's a u problem.

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jayparked · 1 month ago

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traditionally nontraditional | park sunghoon

SYNOPSIS: newly married, you and your husband love creating your own...unique traditions

PAIRING: husband!sunghoon x wife!female reader

GENRE: smut

AU: established relationship, chrithmith ∩(·ω·)∩

RATING: explicit/18+, minors dni

WORD COUNT: 7.2k of pure smut baby

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, creampie, dom/sub dynamics, big dick hoon, cock abuser!hoon, oral (f. receiving), nipple play, nudes, sexy ornaments, dirty talk, slightly bratty y/n and hoon is not having it, impatient insatiable hoon, he's so down bad for his lil wifey, teasing, sex with barely any prep, size kink, mentions of size training, strong language, sunghoon cannot stop praising you for the life of him, implied oral (m. receiving), choking, pet names, begging, body worship, overstimulation, forced orgasm, punishment kink, y/n gets tied up :) they are so grossly in love i was gagging the whole time

SNAIL TRAIL: merry belated christmas! for all my freaky horny down bad sunghoon stans. this one's for you. but mostly to my favorite hoonie girl @sungbeams who not only made this incredible banner, but also beta read for me and continued to throw constant words of encouragement my way when i was struggling to write this. as always, i love you so much and everything i do is for you.

“Sunghoon…what is this?”

You’re sitting in the living room of the home you and your newly wedded husband purchased only a few months ago. Wrapping paper and gift bags are strewn throughout the room, traces of hours of opening presents together for the first time as husband and wife littered in a haphazard mess. The fireplace, which is the only lightsource in the room right now besides the ones decorated on the Christmas tree, is warming the entire room as gentle snow falls outside, colorful lights reflecting off the sparkling white substance. You’re bundled up in your favorite Christmas pajamas on the couch while Sunghoon sits in a plush recliner facing you. A proud sparkle adorns your husband’s eyes as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees while he rubs his hands together with excited anticipation as he watches you closely.

“Do you like it? He can’t help the way his lips pull into a subtle smirk, his eyebrows quirking up on the word ‘like’. Sunghoon feels insanely proud for being able to keep this particular gift a surprise. Normally he gets too excited and has to tell you as soon as possible. There’s been quite a few birthdays and anniversaries in the past where Sunghoon hasn’t even made it out of the department store before FaceTiming you and showing you what he’s in the process of buying you. Getting a view of the department store workers side eyeing your husband as he excitingly gushes at you through the phone always warms your heart. An array of apologies always leaves his lips after telling you what he’s gotten you. If it were anyone else, you’d be slightly annoyed with the ruined surprises. But, in all honesty, you actually adored it from him. Your husband being too excited to keep a secret is just another way of him expressing his love. Plus, even if he can’t hide the larger, more extravagant things, he still finds ways to surprise you.

Like with what you have resting in your palms right now. The plastic squeaks slightly as your thumb rubs against it. Memories flood your mind, your thighs twitch, yearning to rub against one another as you lick your lips. It’s hard to ignore the dark haze in your husband’s gaze and the way his legs are spread so perfectly apart.

Noticing your staring, Sunghoon lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he looks down at his hands before raising his eyes to meet yours once again. He’s waiting for your response, you know he is, and you also know that he’s patient enough to sit here for hours until you’re able to find your voice and speak just what exactly is pulsing through your mind.

And the longer you make Sunghoon wait, the more pleasure he gets from seeing you squirm beneath him later.

“I-I love it. Wow…” You gulp as you stare at the ornament in your hands, eyes unable to tear away from the polaroid Sunghoon has placed perfectly inside.

But it’s not just any polaroid.

It’s a very explicit photo of the two of you on your wedding night where you’re on your knees, throat stuffed with your newly wedded husband’s deliciously thick cock. Mascara running down your cheeks and a hint of drool dribbling down your chin is visible in the photo along with Sunghoon’s large hand gently pulling your hair back.

“I remember that night so well,” Sunghoon grumbles as he leans back in his seat, his eyes still trailing over your body.

“I would hope you do!” you laugh, looking up at him, “Our wedding night, it was only a couple months ago after all.”

“And I don’t think I’ll ever forget it,” his gaze darkens, his arms moving to rest behind his head, “Especially the way you moaned once my dick hit the back of your throat. Or when I could see my bulge in your stomach. Or how you could still see my handprint on your ass the next morning. Or-”

“Hoon!” You laugh and toss a throw pillow towards him, which he catches easily, laughing along with you.

“Sorry. Like I said though, it’s a night I’ll never forget. And when you suggested we try to make our own Christmas traditions, well, what can I say? I was inspired.”

His smile is so genuine with a light sparkle in his eyes being reflected from the firelight. You can’t help but walk towards him, needing to be close and to feel his warmth. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in until you’re sitting on his lap. But that wasn’t good enough for him. Sunghoon repositions you so that you’re cradled in his arms, your head resting beneath his collarbone. He leans down slowly, a smile blooming on his face, until your noses touch. Giggling together, you both close your eyes and move your heads back and forth, noses bumping together repeatedly in the process. The innocent moment doesn’t last long, though. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about, but before you get the chance, his soft pillowy lips are brushing against yours, his strong arms pulling you closer to his body.

The kiss seems innocent at first, full of love and tenderness as your mouths move together. But one little shift of your hips in his lap has your husband groaning, deepening the urgency of the kiss. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you eagerly grant him entry all while one hand cusps your cheek and the other grips your hip tighter. Your own hands can’t stay still as one dips below his shirt and wanders from his stomach up to his chest, marveling at the way his muscles feel against your palms and fingertips.

He quickly repositions you. Now, straddling his lap, his hands are free to roam down your body, exploring every curve he can. As if he hasn’t already familiarized himself with every inch of you. Continuing the kiss, he groans as you naturally grind your hips against his lap. His hands grab at your waist, quickling seating you down on him fully until you’re able to feel his cock hardening beneath you. At the feeling of friction against your clothed clit, you moan into his mouth, head tilting back slightly while you grind on him harder. Sunghoon catches your bottom lip between his teeth, growling slightly as he pulls and sucks.

Once he releases you, his mouth is attached to yours again immediately. The kisses are deep, feverish, and desperate; his tongue sloppily entering your mouth muffling any sigh or moan that was lingering within you.

Only when air is needed do you two break away. You look into his deep brown eyes and easily get lost in how lustful he appears. At the same time though, you see something in his eyes soften, complete love and admiration evident amidst the yearning.

“How about we make our second ornament, hmm?” Sunghoon smirks, nipping at your lips again. All you can do is quickly nod your head as you place your hands on his cheeks, savoring the tender moment before it’s gone. One thing about your husband is that once he gets riled up, it’s almost impossible to satiate the beast that consumes his sweet and romantic side.

“Perfect,” Sunghoon’s voice is husky with desire. Quickly, he stands up effortlessly with you still in his arms, one hand firmly placed on your back while the other holds one of your thighs. You can’t help but giggle as you cling to him, peppering kisses along his jaw and neck. You slow your ministrations down when you hear him groan as you nip at a particular spot under his ear; you slowly open your mouth and let your tongue brush against his skin before biting down gently, careful to not leave any marks (per his unfortunate request, no visible marks can be left on him due to his new position at work. Plus, it’s been harder to cover them up and there’s only so many times he can wear a scarf during the summer without getting weird glances from coworkers. And the amount of turtle necks he’s worn during this winter season in particular is fashionably criminal).

Sunghoon easily carries you to your shared bedroom, not even bothering to close the door as he gently tosses you on the mattress. You quickly sit up, peeling your clothes off of you before Sunghoon even has a chance to get on the bed himself.

“Slow down, let me help you,” he murmurs, placing a hand on your arm to stall you. You let him remove your shirt, although he’s doing it painfully slowly; leaving soft kisses along your collar bones and the base of your neck once they’re properly exposed. Even though his movements are slow and intentional, it feels like time is speeding up between you in the best way possible. It’s something you can’t quite explain. You’ve heard other people talk about how time seems to stop when they’re with their partners. But, for you, time has always sped up with Sunghoon, the entire world spinning by as the two of you live in your own timezone; a cocoon created just for you two to find solace in.

You wouldn’t change it for a thing.

Finally, Sunghoon has you completely naked and laying on your side, supporting your upper body weight by laying on your elbows as you look at him towering over you. He’s already swatted your hand away from him when you tried to lift his shirt up, a wide, goofy smile plastered on his face as he gently encourages you to wait. What you’re waiting for? You have no idea. But your heart is racing with anticipation, your body warm and cheeks flushed already.

All he does is roll up his sleeves slightly, exposing his veiny forearms. Instantly your eyes are drawn to his hands, though, his fingers flexing slightly as they move back down to his sides.

“You’re staring, darling.”

“Can’t help it,” you sigh, “look at you.”

Sunghoon chuckles softly, an endearing smile back on his face, “Look at me? Look at you. So pretty for me…” he takes a step forward, his gaze primal and hungry, “so pretty for me to ruin, tsk tsk. What am I going to do with you?”

You feel your face heating up even more, blush surely spreading across your cheeks. You can’t help but wish he would hurry up, though. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest with how fast and hard it’s pounding. Hands craving for a purpose, you keep reaching for your husband, desperate to feel his skin mingle with yours, but he keeps swatting you away. Your body is aching for him like it always does, no matter how many times you’ve had him inside you. You always want more of him- need more of him.

Sunghoon looks towards the closet where you keep your polaroid camera resting safely on the shelf above your hanging clothes, the long neck strap spilling over the ledge. But, he bites his bottom lip and turns back to you, groaning as he places his knees on the edge of the bed. One of his hands comes out to grasp one of your knees, spreading you apart so he can properly look at your glistening cunt.

“Fuck,” he exhales, “I can see how wet you are for me already. Darling, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

You try to look away from him, but his gaze is too captivating, holding you in place.

“Just looking at you has me like this,” you quip playfully, “my husband is just so sexy.”

“Fuck…say that again,” he groans, massaging your knee with his hand, his eyes glued to yours.

“My…hus…band,” you say slowly, drawing out the syllables with a smirk, clicking your tongue at the end while you bring a foot up to rest on his thigh.

His free hand instantly grasps your foot, stopping its movements immediately. Sunghoon can’t help but sigh and marvel at you. But only for a moment. Roughly, he tosses your leg to the side and buries his face in your heat, forgoing the slow build up he initially was going for and presses his nose against your clit as he tongues at your hole.

“Oh!-” You let out a surprised choked yelp, but you’re quickly sputtering as one of your husband’s hands comes up to grasp one of your breasts tightly. His thumb flicks over your perked nipple, massaging your mound harshly as his tongue continues to lick at your arousal. Your back naturally arches, your hands grasping at the sheets near your head as moans easily leave your lips.

“Mmm, so sweet for me,” Sunghoon coos, bringing his free hand up to wipe at his mouth. At first, you think he’s done, but then he has two fingers roaming between your folds collecting your slick. “So wet, all for me,” he says proudly, eyes locked in on your cunt. He’s more so talking to himself. More praises and remarks are made but your head is becoming too foggy, thighs now twitching with the soft contact. You need more, more of him.

Your hands snake down to his head, making him look at you for a moment while you silently plead for him. You know that he knows what you want, but all he does is smile happily at you, continuing the slight touches. His fingers circle the outside of your hole and just far enough outside of your clit to have you clenching. It’s completely unfair for him to do this to you, but unfortunately, it’s not the first or last time he will play with you like this.

“So needy,” he coos again, “is this what you want?” Sunghoon slowly pushes one digit into your cunt, making sure not to move it around. You try to suck him in further, hips wiggling unintentionally.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, closing your eyes, “please.”

“Please what?” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it’s enough to make you want to throw a bratty tantrum. But, somehow, you’re able to stop yourself. Because this is exactly what you want. And if you give into your bratty dynamics, it’ll only prolong what you need.

So you’ll give your husband what he wants, for your own selfish agenda of course. “Please touch me more. I need you. No more teasing. Please.” The more you talk, the whinier you sound, but you don’t care anymore. Your hole continues to clench around his digit, desperate for it to move, piston, curl, do anything other than just sit dormant.

Sunghoon chuckles lowly, “Being so good for me today, aren’t you? Fine. I’ll give my wife what she needs since she’s been such a good girl this year.”

Your eyes are still closed as you sigh, waiting to feel more of his fingers inside you or even to feel his lips around your clit.

But that’s too predictable. And Sunghoon doesn’t like being predictable.

Instead, your eyes pop open as you feel Sunghoon’s cock pushing into you. The stretch is painfully delicious, your body shivering as he fills you up more and more. Once he’s completely sheathed inside you, Sunghoon groans and grips your knees tightly. You don’t know how you didn’t hear him slide his pajama pants down his thighs, but it’s a detail you don’t mind missing. Plus, you’re more focused on the way your body stings, urgently trying to adjust to his giant cock. Sunghoon stills for a moment, chest heaving as he adjusts himself inside you.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hisses.

“That’s what happens when you don’t warm me up properly.”

“Smart fucking mouth,” he tsks but he can’t hide his smile. Sunghoon quickly rips his shirt over his head, tossing it mindlessly to the floor next to him. “I know you can take it, though. Your body was made for me, afterall.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to reply before his hips are pulling back, snapping forward back into you just before you feel his tip about to leave your hole. You moan with the force of his thrust, hands reaching out to grip onto his firm biceps.

“Look at you. You’re so perfect like this, so beautiful,” Sunghoon groans as he thrusts harder and faster into you. “So…beautiful,” he grunts again. You gasp as he leans forward, his cock hitting a new angle. But you don’t have time to fully appreciate it. His hand wraps delicately around your throat, squeezing until a slight gasp leaves your lips.

It feels like your body is levitating; every inch of your skin prickles with a rush of adrenaline as your husband continues to abuse your hole. The way his hips snap against your thighs has you feeling bruised already. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Some might feel embarrassed for how quickly they get to their orgasm, but not you. You feel a sense of pride swell in your chest knowing that your husband knows your body so well and is always determined to have you come before he does. It’s a law he’s written for himself. And, ever since the first time you’ve been together, he’s held true to it. The rare times he comes before you do is if you’re sucking him off quickly somewhere outside of your home, which is usually taking place in a restaurant bathroom or a dressing room in a random department store. Being the man Sunghoon is, though, that same night he makes sure to spend hours with your thighs cushioned against his head. No matter how much you beg for his cock, he always insists on using his tongue or hands to fully appreciate your body as a reward for taking care of him at the random moments when he needs to use you.

Ever the selfless, Sunghoon lessens his grip on your throat and leans down, kissing you softly while his pace doesn’t relent. It’s drowning the way his lips naturally mold with yours, all the words you want to say get poured into the way you receive his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck and bucking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

“Don’t come yet,” he commands, a harsh bite in his voice as he pushes your hips down, “I want our next ornament to be a picture of you right as your orgasm hits. Can you do that for me? Can you hang on just a little bit longer, baby? I just want to have a little more fun with you before I grab the camera.”

You shake your head, biting down hard on your bottom lip to try to keep yourself from orgasming. Tears prick your eyes as you feel your body start to betray you despite your best efforts.

“C’mon, baby, please? Fuck, I don’t think I can stop. You just feel so good,” he groans loudly, both hands gripping your breasts tightly as he continues pounding you into the mattress. “If you can’t hold it I’ll just have to make you come again and again until I get the picture I want.”

“Please let me, Hoon. I-I can’t-” a choked moan interrupts you when Sunghoon presses his thumb firmly on your clit, rubbing harshly at a steady pace while his cock continues to piston in and out of you. You don’t even have a second to enjoy the dual stimulation. Your orgasm hits you like a train, exploding from the bottom of your body and rippling upward. Eyes rolling back so harshly, it feels like you’re going to pass out as your body starts to tremble violently underneath Sunghoon.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, slowing his pace down only slightly, “look at you, my pretty doll. Can’t even let me fuck you for more than two minutes before you’re losing your mind on my cock. You did so well taking me without any prep. Always so good for me.” He’s kissing up your chest between sentences, arms holding you tightly in place. You focus on the sound of his voice, letting the low familiar tone guide your soul back to your body.

Sunghoon pets your hair comfortingly, leaving gentle kisses along your face while his cock still sits snugly in your heat, unmoving. “You back with me?” he whispers, seeing the light returning back to your eyes and your body shaking less. You nod your head in response, a soft smile spreading on your face as you blink slowly at him.

“Good. Now that you’ve had your moment to catch your breath I can punish you properly.” Sunghoon removes himself from your body and the bed, now walking towards the closet.

“W-what?” You sit up on your elbows and watch him, confused with the way his jaw clenches and his back muscles tense.

“I thought you were gonna be a good girl for me, but I guess I was mistaken.” He’s digging around in the closet, nowhere near where the camera is.

“But I have been good!” You pout shamelessly, your tone whiny and full of attitude.

Finding what he was looking for, Sunghoon straightens himself and grabs the polaroid camera without a second glance. When he turns around, you gulp, seeing the four fuzzy cuffs in his hands alongside the camera.

“I told you not to come,” he flicks his hooded gaze at you, his face cold and annoyed, “so you don’t get to touch me since you wanted to be so greedy.”

Silently, Sunghoon walks back towards the bed and quickly fastens your feet into two of the cuffs, securing them snuggly and pulling out the fabric straps from under the mattress to hook the cuffs to. His jaw is still clenched while he moves impatiently, huffing at himself when his fingers fail to get them secure the first time. Only when he moves to your last free wrist does he finally look at you. Trying to appear sorrowful, you jut out your bottom lip and lower your head to look at him through your eyelashes. Sunghoon groans, always falling into this trap when it comes to you.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know what you did was wrong. And I’m not letting you off the hook that easily. You disobeyed so you’ll be punished. I know how handsy you get so it only seems fitting.”

You tug playfully at your wrist constraints, eliciting a stern scowl from your husband. Sighing and shaking his head, he takes out the camera and sets it down next to your body.

“But it’s Christmas…” You try again, but he doesn’t acknowledge you this time.

Sunghoon patiently looks over your body, his eyes slowly combing over every curve of your body, biting at his bottom lip as if it’s the first time he’s seeing you like this. You desperately want to rub your thighs together, missing the feeling of his cock stretching you out. It doesn’t go unnoticed by your husband, the way your legs tug at the cuffs or the way your hips buck up slightly. It’s almost worse that he won’t acknowledge you, even slowing down his gaze. And it’s killing you that he’s not even saying anything so all you’re left with is the cold air settling against your skin and feeling like a frog about to be dissected with the way you’re displayed before him.

You let out a low moan, a huff really, while you furrow your brows and desperately try to meet Sunghoon’s gaze. He trails a finger from your thigh down to your ankle, your body twitching under his touch.

“Hoon-”

“No.”

One of his hands falls to his aching cock, still erect and glistening from your arousal. He slowly moves up and down his length, wincing slightly while looking hungrily at your exposed pussy. Flashbacks of your first night together flood your mind, the way Sunghoon practically drooled over your naked heat while your body trembled with a surge of adrenaline. The look on his face now is the same as it was all those years ago.

Finally, his eyes trail up your body, resting into your gaze. That soft smile is back and you wonder if he’s reminiscing like you are, if he’s feeling the same overwhelming swell in his chest, wishing this moment wouldn’t have to pass and you could stay like this together forever.

As romantic as that sounds, you’re both over it. Smirks blooming on both of your faces as the yearning and needing for one another takes over your bodies. You use another wasted attempt at your constraints, whining for your husband in a near tantrum state. It only fuels his ego, loving how desperate you are for him. His erect cock visibly twitches, pulling Sunghoon towards you like a magnet. Placing a knee inches away from your dripping cunt, he leans down and groans as he kisses you, putting so much pressure against your lips that your head pushes deeper into the pillows until your neck starts to ache. His tongue doesn’t wait for your permission, forcefully pushing past your lips until he’s able to collide the muscle against your own. You moan into him, bucking your hips up once again to try to feel his body against your own, but he’s hovering a teasing length away, just enough for you to not be able to reach him.

In compensation, one of his large hands moves to grip your waist tightly, nails digging into your skin while he continues to attack your mouth. You desperately want to reach your hands out and wrap them around his neck, to tug on the ends of his hair and move his head to the side to nip and pull at the skin beneath his ear.

The tension building up in your body is reaching a boiling point and you’re afraid you might actually lose your mind. Sunghoon loves to hear you beg, that’s nothing new to you, but the type of begging you’re on the verge of doing will only become a regret shortly after. You want to keep your composure, you really do, want to be the patient perfect wife Sunghoon married months ago. How could you possibly behave in a time like this? With a man like this?

You’re about to let loose when Sunghoon breaks away from your lips, moving his own along your jawline and dipping down to nip at your collarbones. In doing so, Sunghoon’s body lowers and you feel the tip of his cock bump against your swollen lower lips. Gasping, no, moaning, no-, whining, fuck, maybe all of the above sounds leave your lips simultaneously. Arching your back, your body desperately needs to be closer to him, to feel him against every inch of your skin. You feel dizzy, high even from the lack of contact and he has the nerve to sit there and watch you, chuckling as if you did something cutely amusing.

“You think this is funny?” You finally manage to pant out, wrists getting sore from tugging too harshly against the cuffs.

“Very.” Fangs beaming through his smile and sparkling eyes, Sunghoon gives you a moment before reaching for the camera. Quickly his fingers work until a bright light flashes in your face making you blink quickly.

“Sorry, love. Just couldn’t resist that pouty face of yours. Definitely one for the books. Now,” he grunts, looking down where your bodies are almost connected, “you ready for me? Gonna listen this time?”

You nod your head earnestly, clenching around nothing, aching to be filled again.

“Take a breath,” he instructs, lining himself up to your hole, “because I’m not warming you up again. And I don’t plan on going slow.”

Instinctively, you do as you're told and inhale slowly. Sunghoon watches and waits until you’re exhaling to shove the head of his throbbing cock past your walls. Only getting halfway in, Sunghoon winces, letting out a low groan as his brows furrow while he looks at you, gritting his teeth as his eyes darken. Moving back onto his knees, Sunghoon tears his gaze from you and pushes his hair out of his eyes, his brows furrowed while he lets out another impatient huff. A failed experimental thrust getting him nowhere deeper inside you only elicits more huffs and a few muttered swear words. He leans down and lets a wad of spit string down from his mouth, landing directly where his cock and your pussy meet. Sunghoon brings one hand down and smothers the spit along his digit, moving it along his cock and up to your clit where he rubs annoyed circles frantically. He knows it doesn’t feel that good for you to be instantly met with harsh pressure and fast speeds, but he’s not trying to make you feel good right now exactly. No, he wants your body to react faster, to adjust to him before he completely loses his patience.

“After all this time I’m still too big for this little pussy? Thought I trained you better.” He’s shaking his head in disapproval and all you want is to get on your hands and knees and beg for his forgiveness; to beg for him to show you how to take his monster cock properly. But you’re left to just lay here like a starfish, whimpering as you try to relax your body. It feels impossible with all the anticipation building up. Your body is tense, heart rate increasing with every passing second. Your walls pulse around his thick member, sucking him in further and further with each subtle rock of his hips. Sunghoon’s brows are furrowed so deeply and his jaw clenched so tightly makes you clench around him even harder. Fuck, he’s so hot like this. Normally so patient and unbothered, it’s moments like this that really excite you. Because an impatient and bothered Sunghoon just means more fun for you.

“Sorry,” Sunghoon grumbles and grabs your hips firmly, backing out slowly only to ram himself completely into you. Gasping as his tip hits your cervix, your hips stutter against his pelvis. Sunghoon exhales a slow chuckle, biting his tongue between his fanged teeth with a smirk.

“God, you’re clenching me so tight I feel dizzy.”

Moaning out a haggard, “‘M sorry” is all you can muster. Not that he gives you more time to form a proper sentence. Sunghoon is already moving before you can even adequately appreciate the full feeling he’s giving you. Your chest bounces with each harsh thrust, every muscle in Sunghoon’s body is flexed and strained as he finally delves into his own pleasure. His biceps and pecs are bulging right in front of your face, almost mocking you for not being able to touch or gnaw on them.

“My pretty wife taking me so well,” grunting, his pace quickens, “you’re doing so, so good for me.”

Your body is desperately fighting against the restraints, feeling so good and overstimulated all at once. The pleasure building up inside your body is looking for any sort of relief. Not being able to rake your fingernails against the skin of his muscled back, not being able to leave open mouthed kisses along the side of his face and neck, it’s all driving you crazy. To just sit here and take this continual cock abuse is driving you so quickly over the edge you’re afraid of coming too quickly again.

“Sunghoon,” you gesture your head to the side where he placed the camera minutes ago, “the camera.”

“Already?” The innocent and shocked expression on his face has your cheeks feeling hot, biting down on your bottom lip to keep you as grounded as you can. But that knot is winding tighter and tighter, he’s hitting all the right spots and one more low whine out of that pretty mouth of his is all it will take to have you coming undone.

Sunghoon stares at your face, the way your nose is scrunched and your eyes are closed, and hurries to grab the camera. His thrusts slow only slightly, the intensity lessening as he moves his body to grab the device. From fast and deep, he changes to slow and intentional; languidly dragging his cock against your walls.

Sunghoon raises the camera up to his eyes but stops, his body completely stilling, the camera lowering to his side.

You open your eyes and blink slowly at him,“What’s wrong?”

“I have a crazy idea.” There’s a far away look in his eyes mixed with a little sparkle, a look you’re not completely unfamiliar with.

“What is it?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” you say confidently, without any hesitation. What a silly question for him to even have to ask. Curiosity is starting to overwhelm the back of your mind when you see Sunghoon turn the camera over in his hands, the long black neck strap slipping between his fingers, wondering what the hell he has planned in that quiet mind of his.

Sunghoon is inspecting the camera strap carefully, then glancing back at you.

“I’m gonna choke you with this.”

“What?”

A proud smile adorns his face as he guides your head up and slips the camera around your neck. You gulp as you feel the scratchy material against your esophagus, Sunghoon’s grip already tight while he adjusts everything until it’s in the perfect spot with the extra fabric wrapped around his fist. The camera itself is in his hand in a ready position just in case he decides he needs to take a picture quickly. He gives some experimental tugs, relishing in the way your eyes flutter with the constriction. Twitching, his cock that’s still buried deep inside you pulls his focus back.

Sunghoon’s body now fully envelopes you, resting his body weight on his free arm while the other angles the camera near the side of your face.

“Why didn’t I think of this before?” He chuckles with satisfaction, taking a quick experimental photo of your chest. He tosses the expelled polaroid on the other side of the bed, making sure the photo lands faced down.

You couldn’t answer even if you wanted to; same old dance, different song really. Because your husband has started up his rhythmic thrusts again, going back to his original pace and pulling at the camera strap attached to your neck. You don’t miss the way he slips one of his fingers underneath the material though, the digit resting lightly against your skin.

Again, you desperately wish you could touch him. There’s no way to properly convey the yearning you have to feel his skin against your fingertips. To make up for the lack of physical action you can show him, you compensate with an array of moans with his name and swear words, you don’t even know what you’re saying anymore. Anything that will convey to him just what he’s doing to you exactly and how well he’s doing it too.

“Oh my-, fuck, Hoon! There- right-, yeah! I’m-, hmmm.” It feels like your body is levitating with how deeply your back is arching, brain getting dizzy, your eyes are rolling back so hard. You can feel your thighs starting to shake more and more with each thrust Sunghoon pounds into you. Has he ever been this deep before? There’s no way he hasn’t. He could be pushing your uterus further into your body for all you know with the way he’s going absolutely crazy on you.

Sweat blooming like 4am dewdrops on Sunghoon’s forehead glisten, some drops falling down against your own brow. He’s muttering something back to you in between kisses along your skin, but you can’t make out the words with how fast and quietly he’s talking.

Not that it matters anyways. Your release is building up so quickly again you’ve become a sputtering mess yourself.

“My god, you’re doing so well for me, baby,” Sunghoon winces, voice louder and understandable once more, “You’re gripping me so tight. Are you close again already?”

“T-take the picture!” You squeal through a gasp, grinding your hips against him.

Moving fast, Sunghoon loosens his grip on the camera strap, positioning his fingers on the button and tries to angle the lens to a spot that fits his liking. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he watches your expressions. He almost can’t believe that he’s the reason your eyes are rolling back so hard, that he’s the one making your entire body shake without barely having to do anything at all.

“Oh!” You gasp as your husband’s cock twitches inside you mid thrust, hitting your g-spot easily. Your mouth falls open, back still arching and your eyes roll back yet again. The bright flash from the camera goes off while Sunghoon spews an array of swear words, tossing the camera to the side quickly. He grabs your hips and thrusts in and out of you at a rapid pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he chases his own high.

“You’re so fucking hot for letting me tie you up and take pictures of you, holy fuck. I have the best little wife,” he growls, “letting me do whatever I want with your body. You’re perfect, perfect for me.” A guttural groan leaves his lips as he ruts his hips against yours, muscles stuttering as he shoots hot ropes of cum as far into your cunt as he possibly can. Finally, you let out a loud sigh as you let your orgasm wash over your body. Electricity shoots throughout your veins as you ride out your high, Sunghoon slowly moving back and forth as he fucks his cum deeper into you. Even after you’re both panting and coming back to reality, he’s milking out every drop he possibly has left, making sure it’s well seated in you before pulling out fully.

With shaky legs, Sunghoon stands and stretches his arms over his head, returning to give you a shaking, soft kiss to your trembling lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your cheek before giving a swift peck to your nose. He moves to undo the cuffs from your wrists, massaging your skin lightly for a moment before moving onto the next ones.

You whine as he moves away from you, wanting to kiss his lips over and over again until you physically can’t anymore. Brain spinning from your high and body buzzing, you’re not ready to have any sort of space away from him just yet.

When Sunghoon finally gets the last cuff off your ankle, you sit up and grab his arm, pulling him back down to the bed and enveloping his body in your arms. He laughs as he falls on top of you, wasting no time to reciprocate the embrace, littering your face with rapid kisses that leave you giggling.

“I love you too, by the way.” You giggle, squishing your cheek against his while squeezing your arms around him tighter.

“I know,” he says softly. “Hey, we should see how the pictures turned out!”

“Oh god,” you groan, completely unprepared to see what you look like in a total fucked out dazed state. Sunghoon moves to the side, resting his head against your shoulder and reaching over your body for the photos, hiding them from your curious eyes so he can get a peak first.

“Daaammmnn,” he whistles with a side glance towards you, “I just felt myself twitch again. These are too good. Can we do this every time we have sex?”

“Lemme see.” You laugh and reach for his hand. He hands over the photos willingly, watching your face intently while you take in the photos. “That’s me? I look like that when I-”

“Yep,” Sunghoon sighs dreamily, “I never get tired of seeing it.” He tilts his head to the side to give you that rare goofy grin that you love so much.

“Should we put it in an ornament now?”

“Nah,” Sunghoon takes the polaroids from your hand and sets it on the nightstand, pulling you closer so now it’s your head that’s resting on his chest, “Let’s stay here a bit longer.”

Closing your eyes and breathing in his scent, you sigh happily, arms wrapped securely around his waist while he murmurs soft words into your hair. An array of “so pretty”’s and “my baby did so well”’s tumbling from his kiss swollen lips.

It only takes you a moment to realize what he’s doing. And you get your confirmation when you open your eyes.

“You want to go again…don’t you…”

Sunghoon exhales with a low chuckle, his head falling back while he continues to play with your hair. “What gave it away?”

“Well…you’re being very affectionate right now. And I have eyes.” You giggle and gesture towards his naked bottom half, with his (once again) fully erect cock on display.

“Oh…that.” Sunghoon shyly replies. “Can you blame me?”

Without waiting for your response, yet again (does he ever wait for you to properly reply to him?) Sunghoon moves quickly and is hovering over you once again, lowering his bottom half until his cock is nestling between your folds. Teasingly his tip nudges against your clit, your body already weeping to have him inside you again.

Thinking he’s about to put himself back in, you brace your body to feel the stretch. Instead, Sunghoon gives you a mischievous grin and grabs your waist. He flips you around, pulling your hips back until your ass is in the air and flush against his pelvis.

You feel the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance again, but he pauses. And you groan because he seems to always be doing this; somehow always getting lost in thought just when you’re ready to let everything go and be fully consumed by him. But nothing can ever be that simple to Sunghoon. Every minute, every second, every detail is thought out in ways that only Sunghoon could do. But the more he gets lost in thought, the more pleasure you’ll feel later. If only your patience could keep up.

“Fuck, I wanna tie you up again.”

You let out a surprised laugh, somehow, at the same time, you’re not completely surprised by this at all. His words are so simple, yet they send an excited chill throughout your body. You know better than to move when you feel his presence leave you, most likely heading back to the closet to rummage through your shared box of fun.

You hear his feet shuffling back, followed by the bed dipping under his body weight shortly after. “Mmm. Love you like this,” he sighs, massaging the swell of your ass with his hands before landing a playful smack to it. He grabs your arms and places your wrists on top of each other. The feeling of what’s most likely one of his ties wraps around, tightening deliciously around your skin until you can’t move your arms at all.

“We’re going to make so many ornaments tonight, baby.”

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physalian · 7 months ago

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How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

—

These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

#writing #writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing a book #writing tools #writeblr #for beginners #story structure #book formatting

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isekyaaa · 2 years ago

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One easy way you can tell if you're an se/ni (xSxP/xNxJ) vs an si/ne (xSxJ/xNxP) is learning from your mistakes. If you're the kind of person that has had a bad experience with someone or something and will go, "I will never do that again" and you stick to it for the rest of your life, you are absolutely an si/ne.

#rambles #mbti #for example if you say #'i forgive but i NEVER forget' you are an si/ne #if you go 'i ate that once and i threw up so that ruined that food for me i will never eat it again' you are an si/ne #the reason is because the way si perceives is that it always compares the present with previous experience #si has an astoundingly good memory #se accepts every moment as a new situation #things can turn out differently than how they did in the past #they are not so tied down to the past #they will give everything a second chance eventually #they even give people second chances because they are idiots

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rqnarok · 3 months ago

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old man!logan as an older boyfriend!!!

cws/tags: smut, mdni! fem!reader. virginity kink.

Logan’s got his eyes on you for a while now. How can he not? You’re always dolled up and looking so pretty every time he meets you. And when you show an interest in him? Oh, he’s gone.

He first thought of how much of a sick fuck he is. Basically preening over someone far too young for his 200-year-old age. Someone who doesn’t know the shit he has done, the blood he’s got in his bare hands.

But when you purposely tease him—telling him that he looks so handsome with the blue flannels he’s got on whilst seductively draping your legs over his—Logan lets the chains loose.

However, everything turned out to not be that easy. Old man Logan managed to recite his younger self and be a huge tease. You soon find out that he loves taunting you, watching his girl turn into a desperate thing in just a matter of minutes.

“Ya’ already dripping f’me, sweet girl?”

Oh, and he refuses to take your virginity despite anything. Of course, you’re his everything but he’s still unsure of himself…he’s an old man with all those past traumas bundled up, y’know ;(

Sat on one of his thighs, you’d rub your clothed pussy back and forth against his pants, whining out into his neck and beard due to the overstimulation of your sensitive clit. One of his hands rested on your back—guiding you through it—while another hand held one of his cigars. Puffing the smoke cloud into another side as his eyes are fixed on you.

“Needy little thing, huh? Can’t pop your cherry yet, dolly.” He coos at you, tightly gripping your sides after he feels the heat of your pussy on him.

You have done everything to lure him—moaning and panting; calling out his name; presenting yourself by spreading your wet folds; letting him admire your bare form as you stroke his girthy length—whining for just an inch, ‘just the tip’ you’d say.

And Logan finally did it. All that pent-up desire is released while he ruts and pounds at you relentlessly, slamming inside you at a steady cruel pace, his reading glasses still resting on the tip of his nose.

“Tis what ya’ wanted, hm, baby?” Logan groans out a deep growl after seeing how well you take his seed, how well you take him for the first time.

“Need’a cum, pleaseplease—Ah!” Your hair is a mess all over, your cheeks are flushed, and your body shudders in a euphoric state. Logan would reach out and circle around your needy button—making you cream around him and gripping his scarred arm for support.

“Wha’s that? Feels good? Too good?”

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett smut #old man logan x reader #old man logan #wolverine smut #logan by nina <3

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ybklix · 6 months ago

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playing with his hair

giirrrl idk, a feral thought maybe; bf!felix x fem!reader w his long hair since i’m too lazy to make it a whole detail fic for now lol so, (i deadass tried to make it a drabble but it pass the 1k words😮‍💨)

genre - warnings: smut, fluff!! dry humping, handjob, grinding, unprotected piv, mention of cockwarming, idol bf felix btw

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is what i have to deal with everyday, actually, oopsies, he’s next to me rn! also writing in present it’s so new, I like to read it when yall write like that, but I’ll stick with past tense😁 edit: girl i had this in the drafts for days, but he was a little too happy in his recent promoting video, he’s sleeping outside, someone pick him up /jk srly pls

Felix likes to try new hairstyles ever since he let grow his hair, he feels very confident with it and likes the way you randomly stroke it every time you’re together.

Your idea of fun is one of those very rare free afternoons for him since he’s all the time busy at work; it’s when you’re just chilling together at your place because you feel too lazy to go out but very comfortable with each other’s company.

Your days are simple, and your hours with him are very limited but he always makes sure to enjoy being with him; so you try to do everything at once, watch a movie, talk, lay on his chest while he’s playing games on his cell phone… and suddenly, just playing around, with you sitting on his lap in front of him, giggling while playing with his hair.

“Fuck, your hair is so fried” you tease him with a smile, looking at your fingers entangling with his straight hair.

He pouts, “Stop, then don’t touch it…” he responds also joking, just watching you with heart and sparkling eyes.

Felix rests his hands on your tights and caresses them softly. You down your gaze to meet his, he’s suddenly looking at you so sweetly that makes your cheeks get a little warm.

“Can I play with it?” you asked joyfully.

“With what?”

“Your hair” you replied in an obvious tone, “I can do pigtails, braids, middle part, side part” you continue to say, laughing while playing with his hair.

Felix chuckles softly, completely in love, closing his eyes sometimes, then looking up at your arms.

“Wait here” you speak again, standing up from his lap and going to get a comb, hair ties, bobby pins and some random hair clips to take pictures of him just for fun.

“You can also do my make-up if you want” he comments, raising his thick voice so you can hear him.

You sit back down on his lap.

“Oh no, you wear makeup almost every day, let your face rest today” you answer, kissing him tenderly on the bridge of his nose, hiding a little bit the fact that you love seeing your boyfriend’s bare face, straight black eyelashes, big dark eyes, full lips, cheeks and nose with freckles all over.

You laugh at doing whatever you want with his hair, taking silly pictures every time you find him adorable, just giggling saying your favorite inside jokes, then ending with a bow on his hair.

“You can really use me, huh” Felix says, giving you a funny but adorable look with his eyes wide open.

Felix starts caressing your back, with more consistent and intense caresses and he suddenly realizes how you haven’t kissed each other on the lips the whole time, so he moves closer to you and you without hesitation receive his kiss, following a tender and slow rhythm at first, pressing your lips together in a delicate lip rubbing, but you’re a bit desperate when it comes to each other, so your boyfriend catches his breath between kisses and looks himself at the work of being more glued and pouncing on you, with his touches all over your body, from your thighs to your back, slipping his hands under your blouse to feel your bare skin.

Your make out starts to heat up precipitously that you can feel the growing erection in his shorts, so, with your hands wrapped around his neck, you begin to move over his cock, pressing it to your core and stimulating you both. At this point, your pussy is throbbing and you feel slightly heated. You’re always impressed by how incredibly fast you want and desire him. You both moan softly at the friction. As you pull apart you smile slightly mischievously at him and for some reason you start kissing his neck, which Felix loves so, causing him to give you a huge tender smile showing his teeth, clutching his grip on your hips tighter.

You pull away once more to meet the wide grin on his face, which gently turns into a slightly strained expression as you continue to move your body against his erection, Felix gasps, his lips forming a soft expression of satisfaction this time with his submissive facing enjoying the naughty act of crushing his cock with your center, with your clothes on.

“Fuck, baby, it feels so good” Felix sighs, biting his slightly swollen, full lips, lowering his gaze to your pussy being trapped in him, moving his erection back and forth, guiding your hips for better movement.

You smile satisfactorily at him in response, each time feeling the heat of your body and pussy brush against your panties, wetting them all over, just playing more with your arousal. You see him, he looks so fucking cute and yet so hot with the last few hairstyles you gave him, two little high ponytails with bows leaving the rest of his hair loose, he looked silly cute, but serious manly moans coming out of him contrasts somehow so perfectly.

Felix sighs again sonorously, his legs shaking a little, he doesn’t think he can take it long enough without cumming if you keep moving so dedicatedly on him so he speaks again:

“Mmm, c’mon baby, take off your clothes, or do you want me to take you to bed.”

A pleasant shock goes through your body as you hear him a little more needy, you’re not thinking straight and you don’t want to pull away from him so you just reply a simple, “It’s okay like this, Lix.”

With your heart beating fast you grab his shorts, indicating you want to pull them down, Felix helps you right away, releasing his pink, needy, throbbing cock, you look down at his member and then at the same time you join gazes, Felix looks at you so needy and innocent, his big eyes begging you to touch him, you can’t help but melt every time he does that and in a needy sigh, with your cheeks a little red, you stand up, embarrassed, pulling down your comfy cloth shorts along with your panties, climbing back onto his lap, catching your boyfriend licking his lips at the sight of your cute bare mons venus.

Felix smiles, so excited at the thought of feeling you on him again, now with the sensation of your warm wet center in him, he gets more excited at the thought that you were finally going to settle on him ready to fuck, however, you start pumping his entire erect length, making him gasp loudly as he throws his head back, marking his bulging Adam's apple in his throat. Felix returns to his posture, looking straight into you with desire, biting his lip as you with a smile, touch all over his cock, stroking his tip gently with your fingers, feeling his stiffness and the slight sticky precum sliding down your hand as you jerk him off.

You’re so wet, and Felix is getting over the edge, so you finally accommodate your body, squeezing your pussy tighter on his cock, grinding on it a little before you put his cock inside you, encouraging in him more arousal if that was possible, teasing him and you at the sensation of his dick rub between your labia, until you feel his throbbing member so foreplayed, and until you see your boyfriend’s sweet expression as he can’t resist anymore and, finally you insert his rigid manhood completely in you. The temperature of both your bodies rises, it feels so fucking good to be filled by him, every move you make comes out of pure bliss, panting, sliding on his cock in a rhythm that makes him shudder and moan; Felix feels every part of his body beat intensely, enjoying every thrust into him.

“Oh, fuck, l-ove, ke-keep going please, I’m gonna cum, fuuck” he whimpers, desperate in a high-pitched tone, closing his eyes.

Felix thinks about the idea of cumming all of him inside you, of filling you up, brings him to a better ecstasy and in a thick sigh of relief and satisfaction, he manages to cum, relaxing a bit all the tension built in his body, making his thighs restless in soft tingling and trembling. You rest your hands on his shoulders and hide your face on the side of his neck, moaning close to his ear and with your face brushing against his soft hair, gently overwhelming you with his sweet scent, you bite your lip at the sensation of his hot semen shooting inside you and you also sense you’re so close to your climax that, despite being slightly tired, you intensify and increase each movement, sliding a little more slippery as you are filled with his cum. You hug him without thinking, your walls squeeze his sensitive cock still stuck in your core, you’re climaxing so intensely that you open your mouth almost in an inaudible squeal, your vision blurs for a few seconds and you let yourself release completely onto your boyfriend.

You feel the joining of agitated chests and breaths, Felix hug you warmly wrapping your back, once again your body melts at the slightest touch of his, but you can’t help but feel him so close to you, acting tenderly. Felix doesn’t even have to say it, but you know he loves you, you feel it too, so you relax your body on top of him, stroke his hair and he gives you a soft kiss on your shoulder as he caresses your back and keeps you in such a vulnerable position with both sexes together, with you on top of him until you decide to move.

——————-

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @bubblebisk

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doromoni · 7 months ago

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On the Defence | LN4

Part 2 of Off Time

Ships : Lando Norris x F1 Presenter! Reader

Genre : Angst, Fluff

Subtags : She fell first; He fell harder, Misunderstanding, Mutual Pinning, Groveling

A/N : Dude this was supposed to be just a two part story 😭 Lmao be ready for a mini series folks!

Summary : You have pursued Lando's affection, yet he doesn't seem interested. Till your patience wavers and Lando realizes it too late. Will there be a right time for the two of you?

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Lando was used to being at the top of the world. To be always at the fastest speed possible. He was hard-wired to be quick both on track and off track, his pace in life had never had the chance to just slow down and appreciate the small things in life.

Until he lost you. Lando had never noticed how big of an impact you’ve made in his life. The small gestures you made that went unnoticed till it was gone. The minuscule moments with you that seemed to be irrelevant, Lando now craved.

It started with tea and snacks.

“Uh, John… the tea tastes weird. Also, I liked the old biscuits better, why did you change them?” Lando said disappointed, as he examined what was in front of him. The tea was way off like it was watered down yet still unbelievably bitter. And the biscuits… Lando couldn’t explain it really, it just felt like it lacked … love. If that made sense

Lando then set his eyes on his manager, still disgruntled.

John popped his head into the driver’s room, surveying what the Brit was moaning about.

“Oh, that. Yeah, Y/N stopped sending stocks of the tea … last race was our last batch and when Y/N came by she didn’t drop off any cookies for you this time” John answered, sending a rueful smile.

Lando’s attention was suddenly caught at the sound of your name. You were the one who sent the tea? Lando had always thought that McLaren was the one to make the effort to supply his favorite tea.

Now the knowledge that it was you, made his heart speed up and his stomach fluttered— but then it came crashing down like a glass house instantly when Lando realized past tense… it was past tensed. You no longer did that for him.

“Wait. What do you mean by not dropping any for me? Did Y/N give her cookies to someone here?” Lando had fully processed what John had said.

“Yeah, I saw her come by early this morning with cookies in the lobby and Oscar came to get her” John uttered casually as he checked his schedule looking through Lando’s calendar.

Lando’s heart then fell to his stomach. The worst suddenly came into his mind. You and Oscar? When did that happen? He knew that he was jumping to conclusions, but he couldn’t help it. He may have been blind to your beauty and brilliance, but he knew that others were not. How can they not? You were the sunshine in the storm. You were a breath of fresh air in the ethanol-tainted atmosphere of Formula 1.

Then came the overly silent or the overly deafening car rides, there was no in-between—the peace was gone. It was either no sound at all or it was EDM booming in his speakers. You were no longer there to provide a sense of calm, Lando had deeply and truly felt the emptiness that your absence left.

He regretted complaining to Flo and his parents when they insisted that he gave you rides everywhere. Was he an idiot? He thought so now, especially when he recalled always saying “She can handle herself, why do I need to drive her?” Because now he would give anything to have you sitting on the passenger seat of his car. He used to hate it when you left your hair ties or claw clips in his car, now your hair ties resided in his arm like a bracelet and your hair clips in his bag— just in case you needed them.

Lando knew that the longer he waited the faster he’d continue to lose you and he saw his chance. The post-race interviews had concluded and Lando was in his car, reversing out of the driver’s only parking lot. Then he saw you typing away at your phone beside the door that connects the building and the parking spaces. Lando saw his opportunity.

The English driver hastily drove his car in front of you, parking beside the curb and making his way towards you.

Your eyes opened wide at the sight of Lando Norris right in front of you, looking fidgety and uncertain, but he looked determined. You didn’t know what to do or react, so you waited for him to start.

“Y/N! Hi. I didn’t see you in the Motorhome after the race” Lando started talking trying to act as casual as his speeding heart could muster.

“ Uhm, Hi Lando. Yeah… I had to finish some paperwork back at Sky ASAP. “ You replied, smiling lightly at the driver not having the courage to fully look into his eyes head-on for the entire conversation.

“ I get that. Are you heading somewhere? I could drive you if you’d like” Lando offered earnestly, hoping that you’ll accept. He just needed time alone with you to talk without restrictions.

Lando gauged your reaction that cycled around, shock and contemplation. Till you sighed and declined, distinguishing his hope and continuing to crush his heart.

“Thank you for the offer, Lando. But, Osc already promised me a ride” You gave a pained smile at the English driver. Lando was about to refute when the both of you turned towards the sound of a car horn.

It was Oscar who was waving inside his Artura.

“ I got to go, It was nice talking to you Lando,” you said as you proceeded to walk towards the car, not before being stopped by Lando.

Your eyes went towards the hand that held your elbow gently. You then met the sorrowful eyes of the English McLaren driver, catching you off guard.

“Y/N can we please talk? Sometime maybe? I’m sorry … I- I. Please I just need a few minutes of your time” Lando was practically begging you, his eyes showing more emotion now than the entire duration you’ve known him.

You could only nod, as you detached yourself from the grip of Lando — looking at the defeated driver one last time before entering his teammate’s car right after.

“You know that Lando wants to fix things with you right?” Oscar nudged your shoulder as he drove away from the circuit.

You could only sigh and close your eyes, your hand running through your hair.

“ Osc, I wished I could believe you. It just hurts so much you know? I mean you saw him with Magui right… I don’t want to step on any toes and make things complicated for them” You said tired and frustrated. Lando was already too hard to let go, now he’s making it extremely difficult to forget.

“Y/N, have you seen her in the paddock recently?” Oscar questioned you further

“Well, no. But that doesn’t mean they’re over. Alex even said that she heard from Kika that they’re planning to make it serious.” You felt the tears build up, yet you fought it back. You would no longer cry for a boy if you could help it.

“Ok, you out of all people should know what’s credible information or not. Miss journalism, what happened to never fully believing he said - she said?” Oscar was right of course, you loved and hated his logical thinking.

“I know, I know. It’s just so fucking frustrating… can we please eat ice cream. I need sugar pronto!”

“Whatever you say, Pooh” You couldn’t help but smile a little at your nickname given by the Australian driver.

“Thanks, Pingu,” You said settling further into Oscar’s car. You knew that Oscar allowed you to change the subject but you got what he was saying. Talk to Lando, you will! You didn’t know if you were ready just yet.

That was the start of Lando’s starvation for your presence and the start of his spiral of doubt and regret. Because no matter how much he tried, you seemed adamant to avoid him.

“Beautiful” came into Lando’s mind when he saw you from afar. Every time that you walked passed through, the smell of you lingered in the air — was it your perfume or your shampoo? Lando was not sure, but he loved it nonetheless. Every time you waltzed inside the McLaren Motor home to hang out with his teammate, Lando couldn’t help but imagine it was him that you were with, that it was him that you were smiling and rolling your eyes at. Lando wanted back how you used to have that look only for him.

He couldn’t help but stop and stare longingly for what might’ve been if he hadn’t taken too long.

The times when you were shown in the broadcast during the races — when he knew that he was supposed to be locked in and be focused on the track. Lando can’t seem to take his eyes off you.

His parents and sister noticed the change in the driver and they could only look with pity to their son and brother. It seemed that the tables had turned because now it was you who avoided the English Driver at all costs. Every time Lando caught a glimpse of you, you were suddenly turning the other way or you were suddenly busy with who knows what. And the Norrises didn’t hold it against you— No, because they loved you still and they supported your every decision.

Lando couldn’t stand the fact that he could only get you to look and talk to him during after-race interviews in the media pen and even then you remained detached and so excruciatingly professional — you no longer joked around and teased the McLaren driver. And it killed him when he saw you so carefree and open to other drivers.

“So Lando, that was an amazing drive! Congratulations on the P2 by the way. McLaren is showing amazing and consistent results so far, I bet the team feels proud no? And the car has been quick at every track!” Y/N said into the mic with a practiced tone and just the right amount of enthusiasm — just enough for the media and the world not to notice the tension between you and Lando.

Being indifferent was difficult, especially when Lando continued to gauge your attention and tried catching your eyes. And behind those eyes held promise and regret… which you only believed was in your imagination. You always thought some things present that weren’t there, and this one was only one of them.

You didn’t think that Lando was trying his best to make things up to you. No, now to you that seemed impossible. Just keep your distance and everything will be alright and your feelings will pass. Or that was what you keep telling yourself.

“Just the car?” Lando cheekily uttered, biting his lip from nervousness as he tried to make you react or at least get you to joke back. But to his dismay, you remained professional and just proceeded with the calm and cool facade.

“Oh, the driver too of course. Anyways, are you feeling optimistic about the next race?” You said to read your question cards, not give anything to Lando.

To Lando’s dismay, your interaction was still not enough but he had to move on as another driver was waiting for their turn. Lando had tried to lengthen his time with you but his PR manager needed to drag him elsewhere. But not quick enough that Lando caught the ears of your next interview.

It was with surprise, surprise… Oscar Piastri. Lando knew that he shouldn’t be thinking negatively about one of his teammates — a teammate who had never done him wrong. Was he being paranoid? He absolutely was. However, Lando despised how his teammate casually called you by your nickname while you giggled and called him by his.

“Ah~ Pooh! Always a pleasure to see you every race week…. every. single. week”

“Thanks for the sarcasm, Pingu” You continued to banter with the Austrian driver clad in papaya.

***

Another race week came and you were walking outside the Motorhome of McLaren with Oscar in tow, you were both headed towards Ferrari to meet up with the rest of the Leclerc family— Oscar pleaded to join as he said he was an adopted Leclerc. As you walked out the glass door, you felt eyes following your every move. You told this to Oscar, who only shrugged and was clueless as usual.

However, your instincts were right of course, as Lando continued to observe your retreating form. Since when did you start getting comfortable enough to loop your hand around Oscar’s waist? And since when did you let Oscar wrap his arm around your shoulder?

The sinking feeling in Lando’s gut continued to deepen. It felt like a ton of bricks right on his chest, so heavy he couldn’t breathe. Was this how you felt when you saw him with other girls? Was this the same feeling you had when he paraded his monthly flings right in front of you? Did he hurt you this much?

He was so preoccupied with thoughts that Lando didn’t notice the events around him then suddenly he was moving with the rest of the drivers in the parade car. The rest were paired up, doing their usual routine of gossiping and catching up.

Lando’s eyes surveyed the vehicle as his eyes turned to his teammate talking with Logan and Alex. His eyes then turned to Lewis talking with Charles, a few steps away from him.

“Mate, is it true? Is Y/N seeing someone?” Lewis couldn’t help but gossip and hear the details of their favorite presenter.

“I’m not sure, but my girl told me that another driver was showing interest in Y/N!” Charles eagerly joined Lewis in this conversation.

As Lando eavesdropped on the 2 Future teammates, his ears piqued when he heard your name. Then his breath staggered and his ears rang when he heard what the 2 race winners said.

Lando didn’t care if he was rude, as he barged into their conversation with a huff.

“Who is it? It’s Oscar right?” Lando pressingly asked as his jaw clenched, teeth gritting with force a glare piercing the Australian.

Both drivers were surprised by Lando’s suddenly intense intrusion. They were even more perplexed at his sudden interest in you. When did Lando start caring about you?

“Uh, no? I asked Alexandra if it was Oscar since they have been close these days… but she said it was another driver” Charles answered

It was then that Lando admitted fully that he was a jealous man, seeing or even just thinking of you interacting with another man that held an interest in you made his blood curdle.

Lando needed to do something and fast. Even If you weren’t talking to him now, he needed others to know that you were off limits. Lando knew just how to do that.

He took his phone and dialed

“John set me an appointment with Hermes. I need an order for a customized Birkin”

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onmyyan · 8 months ago

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Ain't no sunshine chapter 3

A/n: canon typical violence someone gets stabbed (not you) feedback is always welcome

The clock ticks in an uncomfortable rhythm, almost pounding in your ears, you swallow around nothing and try to take a deep breath, only a few more minutes now.

Sitting cross cross felt childish but you needed the comfort of being low to the ground, before you stood a proud grandfather clock, the thing always intimidated you for some reason, maybe it's because you could smell how expensive it was, how priceless, but it was the only room in the house you could guarantee would be free of any nuisances, aka your estranged family.

A lone little Debbie cupcake in hand, a candle in another, you stick the candle inside the soft flesh of the treat, lighting it with the silver zippo, the seconds begin to count down as the wax melts, today was your eighteenth birthday, and the day you'd find true freedom. A day you'd been waiting for since you'd decided to wash your hands of the Wayne's and all who associated with them.

Bruce had begun to add to his collection of broken people one by one a new face was added to the house, and one by one you were met with the same cold indifference.

Barbara Gordon came into your life warmly, on the arm of Dick, she was kind to you in the beginning, making a point to ask you questions and listening intently when you answered, immediately you admired the older woman, her charming grin and bright demeanor was like a light inside the house, until she became who you eventually discovered was Oracle, tied up in the world of heroes and monsters, she too joined the club of exclusion, unintentionally forgetting plans the two of you had made more often than not, sharing inside jokes with Dick about last night's patrol or even taking on a mentor role for Damian, each action like a stab to the heart.

The last straw felt like the smallest one. And it came in the form of Cassandra Cain.

The girl came to the family under reasons you couldn't know, but she was troubled, you could see the same look in her eyes you had when you looked in the mirror as a child, she didn't outright reject your friendship like Damian, but she was seemingly as disinterested in you as the rest of your family, the real kick to your heart came when you walked past a moment shared between her and Bruce, he was comforting her, you couldn't hear the words spoken but you could feel the love pouring from Bruce, how he had a gentle hand on her shoulder, showing her a kind of love he'd never once shown you.

It wasn't her fault and you held no grudge against her, but it still felt like a slap to the face, and every time you saw her, every time she followed them down to their little hiding spot, the acid-like sting deep in your chest got worse. It was then you made a promise to yourself, you'd stop trying, no more reaching out to Dick or praying Jason would message you back, no more begging for Tim's attention or Damian's respect, and you were sure as shit done asking Bruce to love you.

You're brought back to the present moment by the loud ring of the clock before you, the echoing sound brought a ear splitting grin to your face, finally, you were done.

Blowing out the candle, you toss it on the floor, standing with a pep in your step. You'd had your bags moved out days ago so the only thing left was to leave. A chatter could be heard the closer you got to the front door, male and female voices happily spoke with one another, but you were so unfazed, too excited about your current plans to care they'd gathered without you on your birthday.

"Oh hey (Y/n)" Dick says after spotting your form in the doorway, see the only reason you were here is because the dining room lead to the front door, and your new found freedom.

You nod at him, taking in the sight of popcorn and half empty pizza boxes, a movie projected on the wall, ah so they decided to have a little get together?

None of your concern.

"Sorry we didn't call you down, didn't realize you were home" Dick says a look of pity in his eyes, "do you want some?" It's almost said with a wince.

"Nah." Was your simple response, and with that you walked out of their door and lives.

You'd bought an apartment with your own money, you'd been working since you were fourteen, saving every penny for this moment exactly. It was in a shit part of town with an even shitter interior but it was yours and you loved it. Water dripped into a mostly full bucket in the corner, the lights took a full forty seconds to turn on and it reeked of old cigarettes.

Yet you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

Feeling that euphoric rush had you buzzing all night, besides the bed in your room was, questionable to say the least, so you decided to stay up. Cleaning what you could with what you had made you feel even better, this terrible little space was all yours, no condescending people or assholes in sight.

Feeling hungry, you throw on a black puffer coat and a matching beanie and start to brave the Gotham cold. Each step is taken with a new gratitude, the farther you get from that family the better you feel.

Your happiness is pulled to a grinding halt by the sound of rapid footsteps behind you, without thinking you turn, fist balled tightly in perfect form, Patty would be proud if she saw the way you decked the bastard running up on you.

You nailed him right in the throat sending him to his knees, his knife cluttering to the ground before your feet, grabbing the weapon you point it down at his choking body, your hands still despite your rapid heartbeat. The wheezing man made a swipe at your ankles causing you to bring the knife down right into his shoulder, a scream rips though his throat, the adrenaline in your body has you running on autopilot.

Kicking him in the side of the head to quickly sprint to the corner store where you'd planned on going in the first place, your hands shake as you grab your food, but again, that smile stays on your face.

Not only had you moved out today, you'd proved to yourself you didn't need them for anything, not protection, not validation, nothing, it was like you could breathe again.

The next few weeks are business as usual at the manor, until Barbara looks at the calendar and realizes she'd, along with everyone, had forgotten your birthday. The guilt ate at her until she made her way to your room knocking softly, a cupcake in hand she called out, "(Y/n)? Listen I'm so sorry about your birthday, I got my dates mixed up." The lie came easy, but no response was heard, "I get if you're completely pissed at me, at us but-"

"Miss (L/n) has moved out."

"what? How is that possible we would have noticed her moving out." As if to prove Alfred wrong Barbara opens your door, only to find a barren room, empty of any signs of life. She turns to the older man, a thousand questions burning on her tongue, but he seemed to read her, "you'd be surprised what goes unnoticed in this house miss Gordon, have a good afternoon." He leaves her with this and it only makes the guilt and confusion worse.

She pulls out her phone scrolling to a number she hadn't used in a while, biting her thumb as it rings she's hoping you clear all her confusion when you answered, but you don't, instead an automated message tells her your phone has been disconnected. Now she begins to worry, you were so young, just barely an adult, the idea of you out on your own in Gotham had her heart sinking, clicking the family group chat she sends a message that will change everything.

"We need to talk about (Y/n)."

#yananswers #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #neglected reader #aint no sunshine

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dark-moonlust · 8 months ago

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Cοckwarming Minοtaur PART 1: Office

I’m turning this imagine into a series!!!!

Pairing: Minotaur x f!human reader

Summary: your Minotaur boyfriend Balen is madly in love with you. And he has a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He always finds excuses to have you sit on his lap. Even when you are at work.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, semi-public workplace smut, Minotaur huge🍆, cοckwarming, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is a series and you can find more here and on Patreon.

You loved your Minotaur boyfriend, Balen.

The two of you had met three years ago at a workplace friendly to both monsters and humans. Balen was your superior, and you had just started working as his secretary. From the very first meeting, you had felt something deep and strong connecting him to you. You were attracted to him, incredibly aroused and in need of him. Balen had explained that it was the mating bond, a sacred bond that tied his heart to yours. Since then, you’d decided to give your relationship a chance and be together.

Your relationship was based on mutual trust and security, a connection deeper and stronger than you’d ever experienced.

Fast forward to the present, you still loved him like crazy, your relationship never better.

Balen was a fascinating presence in your life. Despite his towering and unusual appearance, your Minotaur was tender and sweet. You saw past his different appearance and found something deep and poignant with him. He cared for you better than any human boyfriend would — and fucked you with a passion that left you breathless.

Balen was madly in love with you. And he had a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He was obsessed with the feel of you, the security of holding you in his arms while his cock pulsed inside you. And he always found excuses to have you sit on his lap, his cock thrust up your depths as he resumed his day as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

During shopping? During work? During lunch, dinner or any time of the day. Yes to all. Balen somehow made it work.

At work, he was particularly demanding when cockwarming him. Coworkers might enter his office, but he kept you there, your neat dress hiding your flushed face and betraying your state. Sometimes he played with your clit and made you cum, other times, he just stayed inside you and made work calls and reviewed business files. And when he finally pulled out of you, it was always with the promise to find a way to be close to you later.

That morning, you were in your office working on a presentation for an important project. You’d finished it with ease and were eager to share your ideas with your boss and colleagues. As you sat at your desk, typing away at your computer, the phone rang.

Called ID: Mr. Balen - Office.

You had an idea of what this call was about.

“Hello,” you answered casually.

“Come to my office,” your boyfriend said, his voice deep and throaty. “I need to check the progress of your presentation.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You complied, standing up and making your way to his spacious office. You knocked and entered discretely.

And there he was.

Seated at his magnificent mahogany desk, the sheer size of him dwarfed the surrounding furniture. Balen’s hulking form filled the room, his presence overwhelming. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, the clothing tailored to fit his immense size. He was at least three times bigger than you, his body chiseled with muscles and silky fur. His head was crowned with a pair of curved horns, his face a captivating combination of beast and man. Upon seeing you, his dark eyes lit up and he let out a deep rumble, vibrating from his chest.

“Come here,” he said, his voice casual but demanding.

“I’ve brought my presentation,” you said but as soon as you were inches from him, he pulled you to him, his hands lifting your dress and guiding you to sit on his lap.

“Balen,” you whined as he quickly tugged away your panties, a finger finding its way inside you. You were drenched, wet from the earlier fuck he’d given you during the car ride to work. You clutched his broad shoulders, burying your face in his chest and biting your lips as that wickedly perfect digit stretched your walls, preparing you for his cock.

Soon, you felt him shift, unzipping his trousers and freezing his monstrous cock. Your Minotaur sported a dick unlike any other. It was long and curved, thick and surrounded by protruding veins. The head was broad and leaking pre-cum, his balls round and swollen, the poor babies squeezed between his legs.

Strong hands cupped your ass, positioning you over his raging girth. The cockhead nudged your entrance, coaxing your pussy lips apart and slowly invading your depths. With a slow, deliberate upward thrust, he buried himself inside you, a low groan of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. Your belly bulged from the sheer girth of him inside you. You moaned lewdly but quickly muffled your cries by biting his shoulder. He loved it when you did that.

“So good for me. Just for a little bit, baby, okay?” he murmured, his hands resting possessively on your hips. “I need this.”

You nodded, trying to control your breathing as you adjusted to the invasion and stretch. Balen resumed his work, one large hand rubbing your ass from under your dress while the other resumed his work, moving expertly over his keyboard as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He even studied your presentation while you struggled to focus with the constant feel of his cock stretching your pussy.

“Excellent work with your presentation,” he praised, “you covered every important point.”

“Th…thank you,” you murmured, running your fingers through the exposed fur at his neck.

You wiggled a little, desperate for release and rubbed your clit against him. His hand on your ass pressed you closer against him, thrusting just barely inside you. He did it again and again, rewarding you for taking his dick so well. A few minutes later, the friction against your clit was perfect and you came, your walls contracting hard around his cock. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cries and Balen followed, releasing pump after pump of his load inside you. He was surprisingly quiet and reserved, but you knew his passion was great; his heartbeat was erratic.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against you.

It was at that moment, that a coworker knocked on the door. You clutched your boyfriend, your heart racing. Balen remained calm, his hands steady as he continued to work and bid the coworker to enter. The coworker, a male werewolf, entered, used to the sight of you hugging your boyfriend and what was happening beneath your neat clothing. Everyone in the office knew of your relationship and the demands of your minotaur boyfriend. Balen had made it so everyone respected you no matter what.

Balen and the werewolf discussed business as usual, while your face flushed with the effort of maintaining composure. Balen’s cock was throbbing inside you, his seed overflowing even if he was buried balls deep inside you. Once the coworker left, Balen kissed you, his tongue brushing against your lips before thrusting into your mouth. He tasted every crevice of your mouth and then drew back, a hint of a grin on his bull face.

“You did well,” he drawled, his voice thick with pride.

“Don’t I always?” you teased sweetly.

“Always.” He pressed you closed against him, his cock kissing so deep inside you that you groaned. “I love you mate. Love your beautiful smile, your lovely heart and your pretty little pussy.”

You smiled. “I love you, too, my horny minotaur.”

“Hmmm…” he growled. “You are my everything, little mate and it seems I can’t function without you.”

“Balen…” you trailed off, winching as more of his seed tricked down your thighs. “We made a mess. Shouldn’t we—”

“It’s alright, my love,” he said. “There are clothes in the cabinet. I always keep spares for both.”

Did you enjoy? Follow for more!

#minotaur x reader #minotaur x human #minotaur smut #minotaur monster #minotaur x you #monster x reader #monster x you #monster fucker #monster lover #monster smut #monster x human #monster x female reader #monster boyfriend #monster fudger #monster romance #monster fuqqer #monster fic

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targaryenluvs · 1 year ago

Text

— BEST LIFE

pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)

summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?

warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋

when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.

what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.

“you’re sitting here,”

“uh-huh.”

“telling me,”

“yup.”

“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”

you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.

“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”

your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.

“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”

“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”

“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”

“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”

“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”

“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”

your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.

derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.

“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.

what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.

penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”

and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.

you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.

“and how much would he loose?”

“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”

“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”

reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.

“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?

spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.

“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”

spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”

spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.

as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?

“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.

“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”

lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.

his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.

right now, you were living your best life.

#criminal minds x bau!reader #criminal minds x reader #suits x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #harvey specter x fem!reader #harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x you

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hjvi · 11 days ago

Text

Love her madly

Pairing: Bsf!Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Chris is more than willing to lend a helping hand, even on film.

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Camgirl!Reader, fingering, dirty talkin’, all that good stuff.

Word Count: 4.6k

Everyone had a career, whether it was accounting, mechanical engineering, or meteorology - everyone had something that provided monetary income. Something to survive, hell, some people even loved their jobs. For you, work was a bit more personal. You interacted with customers frequently, purchased things to pull in newer eyes, and you were damn good at it.

Questions directed your way on the topic of your career were quickly, and skillfully deflected. Most dropped the subject, willing to delve into the next conversational topic, others were persistent. Your friends were the ladder, childhood companions who knew you better than you knew yourself. They’d nudge your arm with their elbow, teasing you with their theories on what you did for a living.

Hitman, masseuse, dog trainer. All of them were incorrect.

Except for one, one whispered statement into the crook of your neck on a night when all of you found yourself way past the point of inebriation. It had caught you off guard, admittedly sending a flush of heat across your chest and cheeks. If it had been anyone else, you might’ve gotten away from it unscathed.

But you didn’t, because Chris had been the one to guess correctly.

Luckily for you, Chris had no issue keeping a secret he found amusing to himself. However, his keeping of your secret included a few ill-made quips at your expense. Whenever company dwindled low, leaving only the pair of you sitting together, he’d inquire about your line of work. His words always came off hushed, almost near a whisper, but the questions were genuine nonetheless - and his intrigue was palpable.

Usually, your work centered around yourself, toys and props were included every few clips, but it was mainly you on your lonesome. Your viewers seemed to love it enough, and if one tipped particularly heartily, you usually indulged in a little fantasy-making. Every few days you’d check your inbox, mainly to clear out spam messages and the occasional creep, but one caught your eye as you scrolled through the monotonous topics.

A regular, a nearly fifty-year-old man with enough wealth and boredom to stock your tip jar with obscenities tied into compliments. He was kind, and lascivious, but nice enough to leave you genuinely considering his request - it certainly helped that he’d stuck a hefty tip onto the end of it all.

All you had to do was find someone to sleep with, no biggie.

Right?

Whatever method you’d used in the past to hype yourself up had failed you, miserably, leaving you drumming your fingers against the cool tabletop of your booth in feigned hope to ease your worried mind. Out of your friends, and coworkers you were acquainted with, only one struck you with genuine possibility.

Christopher.

You framed your meeting around buying him lunch, which admittedly, you had promised to do after he bought you lunch the past fourteen times. It didn’t take much convincing, and after a whopping thirty-second phone call you found yourself waiting at your local diner.

The complimentary fries were enough to keep your mind distracted, the sharp sting of the salt against your well-bitten lips keeping you settled in the present. You weren’t worried about embarrassing yourself, you had walked in on Chris with enough women to officially blind yourself. The worries flurrying around your mind centered around your friendship with Chris, one you’d had since the both of you were scraggly kids.

“Hey, kid.” Chris quipped with a sharp push to the back of your head, quickly snapping you from your mind with a groan. He only laughed at your reaction, a lopsided smile crinkling the skin by his eyes as he plopped himself down across from you.

“Ass.” You murmured, fighting away your smile with a rub to the back of your head. “Go ahead, order what you want. I’m like, what- fifty dollars in debt?”

“More than that.” Chris replied with a sigh and a reach across the table, grabbing a few fries before tossing them into his mouth. “Who’s counting? I ain’t.”

You had spoken to Chris on nearly every topic under the sun; sex, academics, money, drugs - all of it. Yet you were left feeling uneasy about raising such a premise with a lifelong friend. As you two finished your orders, you found yourself willing your silent mind into words, hopeful that there would be an eloquent way to word wanting your best friend to fuck you on camera.

“Chris-“ You started with a clear of your throat, free hand grasping one of the few remaining fries from the basket between you both. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Chris hummed, not bothering to hide his intrigue as he relaxed back against the leather booth, legs spread in a manner that left nothing to the imagination as the denim of his jeans clung to his upper thighs. You weren’t sure if he noticed your blatant staring, the way your eyes couldn’t decide if they wanted to focus on his parted lips or his parted thighs, he wore a smirk nonetheless.

“You know what I do for work, so I don’t have to explain that part.” Before you could finish your words, he leaned forward, resting his elbows against the cool tabletop between you. “I was wondering if you wanted to film something with me?”

“You want me to fuck you on camera?” He asked, tone full of nonchalance and loud enough to turn a few heads from those seated close to you. You were half-inclined to leap across the center table and clamp your hand over his mouth, but you knew Chris well enough to know that would’ve fueled him more.

So, with a crimson-tinted face, you nodded.

To your surprise, he lifted his drink to his lips with a shrug of his shoulders and a quick, “Alright.”

Relief flooded your senses quicker than relative confusion on his quick decision, your mind not wanting to jinx things or have him second guess it all. Chris had done risky things before just to say he’d done it, maybe he viewed this under the same lens?

Some childlike part of you was left wondering if he still saw you the same. It wasn’t every day that someone called their best friend over for a lunch date, only to spring on in the middle of it all that they wanted you to fuck them on camera.

“Chris-“ You began, clearing your throat halfway through the word. “Do you- do you look at me the same?”

His brow quirked, confusion written clear across his face as he chewed away on another fry. Once he saw you were being genuine, his eyes rolled and he let out a lengthy sigh.

“‘Course I do.” He mumbled. “Everyone does something for cash. I don’t mind lending a helping hand.”

Even though his words ended in enough insinuation to leave you choking back another laugh, you were thankful for him. He was an odd friend, one you were constantly worried about the mental and physical well-being of, despite knowing that his brothers take care of him, but you knew that he’d fucked enough girls in his lifetime to leave him perpetually unbothered.

“Cool.” You chimed, beaming him a genuine smile as you lifted your hips, fishing around in the back of your jeans for your wallet. “Little weird you’re willing to do it with no convincing, but I’ll take it.”

He snorted at your words, leaning back against the cracked leather of the booth with his drink in hand. “You make me sound bad, kid. Just want to help you out is all.”

“Is all?” You asked, placing down enough money to cover your tab and his, along with a hefty tip in a silent apology to your waitress for having overheard Chris’s filthy mouth. “You realize what I’m asking you to do right?”

His eyes flickered up to yours, a look within them you hadn’t seen before, it left your stomach flipping in on itself. With a quick placement of his empty glass against the table, he leaned closer to you.

“I’m going to fuck you on camera.” He stated, once again, not quiet enough for your liking. “And when you post it, you get paid. Helping hand, right?”

A ‘helping hand’ was a different frame of mind for it all, but you agreed with a shallow nod and a quick sip of your drink.

“There are people here.” You whispered as you fished an ice cube from the bottom of your glass. “Don’t need them knowing my business.”

“You aren't seeing these people again.” He quipped with a quick reach across the table for your glass, his thick fingers slinking to the bottom of the cup for an ice cube of his own. “I’ll make it up to you later, how’s that?”

“You better.”

You tried to ignore the cocky smile that overtook Chris’s lax features, the way his lips wrapped around the ice, the droplets of water curving around his wrist. While you lost yourself in the flex of his jaw as he chewed away at the ice, Chris let his mind run wild with everything he could do to make you regret your words.

Your apartment was modest, never something you bragged about, but you felt comfortable and proud enough of it to have people over several times a month. The guys had made their home in your apartment, each having their own designated spot they’d relax in for the time being until they moved onto something else that captured their attention.

Chris was your couch, pressed tight against the exposed brick wall, directly underneath one of the bigger windows overlooking the land beneath the building. He’d always push the window up, leaving the screen down to ensure no bugs crawled in while talkin’ to whoever had come with him to bother you.

Just as you assumed he would, he kicked off his boots and slung his jacket over the back of a nearby armchair, giving you a short-lived grin that sent your stomach careening in on itself before he made his way down the adjacent hallway. You followed behind him, abruptly kicking off your shoes as well before padding after him.

“Chris?” You called, watching as his form disappeared behind the beads you kept stapled to your doorway. They served as a makeshift curtain, only Matt and Nick seemed to love them as much as you did, Chris always swatted at them - not that day, however. “Hell are you doin’ in there?”

As you parted the beaded curtain to the side, you caught sight of Chris making himself comfortable on your bed, legs sprawled out before him as he struck a match against the side of his belt buckle. His blown pupils gave away his internal thoughts, so you decided against wasting time. You already had a set-up near your bed, it took no time at all to have everything propped up, and with the click of your camera, Chris looked up to you.

“Strip.” He murmured, a sharp inhale following the order as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Come closer, darling. You want the camera to see, don’t you?”

You nodded, moving closer to the end of your bed. His hips lifted as he not-so-discreetly adjusted himself through his jeans. The sight of his cock straining against his jeans sent your confidence through the roof, and with little more than a smile directed his way, you lifted your shirt up fingers softly running up your ribs and over your head, letting the fabric fall to your feet.

“Shit-“ He breathed, eyes widening as you began unfastening your belt. You didn’t try to contain the giggle that left you at his comment, you knew you’d feel the same in only a matter of minutes.

“C’mere.” He murmured around the filter of his cigarette, a soft smile toiling with the corner of his full lips. You listened without wasting a second, kicking your unbuttoned jeans off your thighs until they were a crumbled mess against the hardwood floor.

His eyes watched you as you moved over to your bed, how your chest flushed a deep crimson, the heat spreading up your throat until it turned your cheeks the same hue. You noticed the faint lift of his hips as you sunk to your knees, the soft bedspread enveloping your legs as you crawled over to him.

“Sit between my legs, baby. Want them to see how pretty you look.”

You were used to holding yourself to a certain degree whenever you filmed your videos, a personal disconnect from your real self. Chris had done away with it, his eyes coaxing you in, deep brown hues echoing each pant that left your parted lips. As you moved to sit between his legs, he hooked an arm around your middle, effortlessly pulling your back flush to his chest.

The smoke from his cigarette left your eyes watering, but all you could focus on was the steady throb of arousal between your legs, every atom of your body screaming for his touch. Your hips shifted, twisting, inadvertently brushing your ass back against his lap. You felt the rumble of his breath circling his chest, the reflection of his head falling back reflected on your nearby camera lens.

“Stop that.” He laughed out, words muffled as he kept his cigarette steady. “Already hard, baby. Gonna make me cum before I get to show you off.”

Wherever Chris had learned to talk filthy, you made a mental note to pay homage to. Each word sent shock waves through you, leaving your cunt clenching down around nothing, cum dripping down the cleft of your ass. As you tried to refocus yourself, Chris leaned back behind you, snubbing his half-gone cigarette on a nearby windowsill.

With a slow exhale, his hand moved to cup your throat, tilting your head back to face the camera fully. You could see yourself in the reflection of the lens, face, and chest flushed, lips parted - pitiful.

“Come on, pretty girl.” He urged, tone a centimeter away from being an all-out beg. “Spread your legs, show them your cunt.”

He spoke of your body as if he’d seen it, mapped out your being beneath his skilled tongue, and left kisses in places unseen by your own eyes. You obeyed, lips parted in a silent moan as his hands helped your thighs apart with a gentle push to your inner knees. His chin rested on your shoulder, eyes fixed on yours in the reflection of your camera lens.

“Look at that.” He whispered, tilting his head to see you, a coy smirk written across his face. “Soaking wet already, huh? That desperate?”

You watched yourself, your cunt twitching around nothing, dripping cum onto the bed sheets below. His hands moved from your knees, slowly caressing your trembling thighs until his fingertips brushed against the swell of your sex.

His left hand slipped back, fingertips digging into the hollow before your hipbone, pressing down in a manner to keep you steady as his right slipped down your cunt, fingers parting your soaked folds with ease. You allowed your head to fall back, eyes shutting in a relief so packed with bliss you could’ve thanked Chris until your voice gave out.

With a chaste kiss to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger pressed into your cunt, gently curling up in a ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips rocked into his touch, pulling his fingers deeper, your body doing a better job at voicing your neediness than your vocal cords ever could.

“Think you could cum from this?” He asked, even though you were both keenly aware of the fluttering of your cunt around his digits, the pants of breath that left you with each push of his fingers. You nodded, and he smiled. “Want to make you cum on my fingers first.”

You turned your head, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as his fingers plunged into your cunt, the heel of his palm brushing against your clit. You lifted your arm, curling it around the back of his neck, holding onto him as though you were petrified he’d vanish beneath your grasp.

A ravenous pleasure blossomed in your lower stomach as you rocked your hips into his palm, small pants and whimpers of his name tumbling past your parted lips. He whispered praise against the shell of your ear, gaze set on the reflection of you in the camera lens, legs spread, hands clinging to his forearm and along the back of his neck, cunt stretched around his fingers.

“Christoph-“ You whined, voice breaking off into another desperate moan as your cunt fluttered around his fingers. He hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple as he pushed his fingers deeper, curling them upward with each thrust. He sent you careening over the edge with a gentle circle of his thumb around your clit, continuing the same blissful motion as you cried out his name into the crook of his neck.

“That’s it-“ He hushed, cheek pressed to your temple. “Good girl, so fuckin’ good.”

Cum dripped from your cunt, dampening the comforter beneath you. Chris caught sight of it in the reflection of the camera lens, pride swelling in his chest at the realization that he’d made you cum hard enough to coat his fingers and the bedding in your arousal. Only when your moans broke off into desperate pleas did he slow his movements, fingers still gently rocking forward into your cunt, leaving you teetering on the edge of mind-shattering oversensitivity.

He lifted his arm after slowing his movements to a halt, exposing his glistening fingers to the warm sunlight pouring through your bedroom window. You watched with bated breath as he brought his fingers to his lips, his eyes locked on yours. It was as if the air was knocked from your lungs when he parted his lips, pushing the soaked digits against his tongue. You could hear the deep-set groan reverberating within his chest as your saccharine taste coated his tongue, all but making him drool as he sucked your taste from his fingers.

His left hand moved to cup your jaw, tilting your head back as he lowered himself to meet your lips. His right grabbed at your breast, smearing his saliva along with the remnants of your arousal across your skin as his lips met yours. The moan that fell from your lips was pure, completely instinctive. He swallowed it with a moan of his own, fingers tightening their hold as they slipped down to cup the curve of your throat.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the muscle swirling around your own, ensuring you tasted yourself just as he had. It was lewd, debaucherous, leaving you clenching around nothing as you sucked on his tongue. His fingers tweaked your nipple in between rolling squeezes of the tissue, you couldn’t help but notice his tongue moving in sync with his fingers.

“Chris-“ You panted, eyes fluttering open to meet his, recognizing the same carnal desire reflected in his irises. He nodded in response to your unspoken question, placing another chaste kiss on your lips as his hands hurriedly moved to unbutton his jeans. You smiled into the kiss, elated laughter bubbling in your chest as your hands moved with his, nearly tearing the fabric of his boxers in haste to have him.

It was as if there was no camera, no incentive to keep you both pawing at each other besides the heavy lust hanging in the air, polluting your mind into nothing but a heavy daze of desire. Your cunt ached, desperate for some form of attention, but you refused to appease yourself - you wanted Chris, and by God, you’d have him.

“C’mon.” He urged, wetting his lips as he reached behind him for a pillow. You hardly understood what he wanted from you before he pushed the pillow beneath your hips, his free hand settling against the small of your back, gently guiding you over the bunched-up fabric. You could feel his fingers spreading your folds as you settled yourself against the pillow, face turned toward the camera.

“So fucking wet.” He whispered, tone riddled with equal parts amazement and disbelief. A wet squelch sounded through the silence as he pushed his middle and ring finger into your cunt, a sharp hiss leaving him at the feeling of your warmth enveloping his digits. Part of you wanted to be pissed, to yell at him for not fucking you, but the way his fingers curved inside of you left you pushing your hips back against his hand.

As soon as you grew accustomed to the feeling of his fingers writhing inside of your cunt, he pulled them free, using your arousal to lubricate his already leaking cock. You pushed your face flat to the mattress, arching your back in a display so riddled with desperation it made Chris’s cock twitch. His hand grasped at your hip, steadying your trembling form as he swiped his tip along your folds.

He was a performer, a natural before the camera. Each movement was fluid, and effortless in a way that made you pine for him. With a gentle push forward of his hips, he bottomed out inside of you, stretching your cunt in a manner that left you whining into the duvet. You could hear him steadying his breathing, hands tightening their hold on the flesh of your hips.

“Move-“ You ordered, or more so begged. “Please.”

He responded with a grunt and a sharp push forward of his hips, bullying the tip of his cock against your cervix. Once he was sure you had grown accustomed to his size, he pulled out, pushing back in rough enough to force the air from your lungs. You wove your hand down beneath yourself, circling your middle and ring finger around your swollen clit.

“So fuckin’ tight-“ He rasped, right hand releasing your hip for a moment to smack at the plush of your ass, leaving a red imprint of his hand behind. You felt his hand smoothing up your back, fingers pressing into the muscle of your upper back before slinking around your shoulder.

His hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pushing your jaw up, forcing your attention onto the camera in front of you.

“Look at the camera, doll.” He grunted, fingers tightening around the curve of your throat. “Let them see how you look taking my cock.”

You could only moan in response, the noise strangled due to his impeccably tight hold around your throat. You pushed your hips back against him, eyes bleary with tears from the combination of sheer pleasure and lack of oxygen.

His thumb pushed into your mouth, pressing against the wet muscle of your tongue as he fucked you. You sucked at the digit, your moans concealed for nearly a second before his hips jerked against you, pushing his cock deeper into your cunt. You could feel your spit dripping down your chin and onto your breasts, breaths haggard the longer he kept you pressed back against him.

Your breathy moans were no deterrent for him, his thumb against your tongue all but forcing your noises to be heard by anyone nearby. His free hand held you by your hip, his thighs slamming against yours with each eager thrust of his hips. You could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, deep enough to knock the wind from your lungs.

Pleasure swirled within your lower stomach, settling heavy. The chase of your climax urged you to push your hips back, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing throughout your bedroom. Your cunt squeezed around his cock, each roll of his hips leaving you both breathless, hands grasping desperately at each other as your arousal built to a fever pitch.

“Chris-“ You whined, tone carrying enough of a warning for Chris to trail kisses along the hollow of your throat in between rough groans of your name. Your hand slipped between your slick thighs, fingers finding home against your clit where you eagerly swirled your digits. “-I’m gonna cum.”

“C’mon.” He urged as he smoothed his hand down your side, grasping the other side of your hip. “Cum for me, baby”

A broken, garbled mess of a moan tore its way from your throat. Your eyes squeezed shut as pure euphoria shot through your veins, igniting every facet of your being as your cunt spasmed around his cock. You could hardly register the curses that slipped past his gritted teeth, how his hold on your waist tightened as he fucked himself into you, pushing his cock deeper.

Your hands reached behind you, blindly fumbling against his dampened skin as he continued to bully his cock into you, fucking you into mind-numbing oversensitivity. His hands moved from your hips, both lacing around your wrists, pulling you back to meet each eager thrust of his hips. Your moans broke off, well past incoherent, delving into the grounds of depravity.

“Sound so good for me, doll.” He rasped, his voice mirroring yours in its spent nature. “Want me to fill your cunt up, huh? Don’t you?”

Without giving you a moment to reply, not that you could anyhow, given your fucked-out state, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your still spasming cunt. You felt his grip on your wrists tighten to an almost painful degree as he grunted out your name, his hips jerking with each mutter that fell past his lips. Warmth flooded your cunt, spilling down your inner thighs, leaving a mess beneath you.

As soon as Chris released your wrists you crumbled to the bedsheets below, deep, ragged lungfuls of air heaving your chest as your mind tried to remain in the present. Chris kissed along your spine as his hands smoothed up your sides, tracing your ribs, muttering words of praise lost on your fatigue-ridden mind.

“Doll?” He asked as he shifted behind you, left hand moving to cup the underside of your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “You alright? Didn’t fuck you dumb, did I?”

You shook your head as you smiled, a small bout of laughter following the movement as you threaded your fingers through his, feeling your damp skin against your pulse point. His words didn’t shock you, if anything you might’ve been worried if he babied you for too long without jabbing at you - that was simply his nature.

“Alright-“ He groaned, moving his hand from yours to pat your cheek as he moved from your bed. “Stay here, I’ll go get a washcloth.”

As the bed dipped from his departure you took a moment to catch your breath, stretching your legs out beneath you. You were sure you could’ve fallen asleep right then and there if it hadn’t been for Chris’s return.

The mattress dipped beside you and a cool washcloth wiped away at your inner thighs and cunt. Chris cleaned himself off, tossing the dirtied washcloth to a nearby corner of your room before moving back to your side.

“Turned your camera off.” He stated as he stretched his arms over his head, leaning back afterward to retrieve his nearby pack of cigarettes. You responded in a thankful hum, or what you attempted to make sound thankful. “Figured you wouldn’t want to use your legs for a while.”

Cockiness laced heavily in his words, but you were in no state to dispute it - even if you did, you couldn’t deny he’d fucked you until your legs were jelly. You glared at him through your tired eyes, taking note of his self-satisfied grin as he leaned back against your bedroom wall, a lit cigarette hung between his lips.

“Ain’t arguing, are ‘ya?” He asked, to which you swatted at his exposed thigh with a stifled laugh. “Hittin’ ain’t denyin’.”

“Shut up.” You responded, not bothering to hide your smile. “You’re too cocky for your own good.”

“Still ain’t sayin’ I’m wrong.”

A/N: I'm reposting this fic from my old account onto here:))) thank you so much if you take the time to read this!

tags - : @swagalicious260 @watercolorskyy @coquettechris @lovesturni0l0s @christmastreecake @ellbowmacaroni @blog-luvdance @sophand4n4 @meg4-matt44 @mommymomm @chriss-slutt @humpster35

╰┈➤𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚, 𝒉𝒊𝒗𝒊

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo

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