#how many times can i say fare
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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago
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I really feel like you should post shire on here 👀 like I feel like it would fare really well and get even more recognition! No pressure just a random thought
truth be told, nonnie? i considered this heavily back in the beginning! but now that the fic is technically finished (not including the sequel), and i already cross-post it on wattpad as well as ao3, it just feels a bit... redundant? useless? i dunno. besides, most of my followers on here that heavily interact already read it on ao3! so to repost something my reach of audience has already read and already been incredible kind about, seems silly! also shire already gets more recognition than i'm deserving of i don't wanna push it haha
i do have another story i think would in general fare better on here considering it's probably going to be an x reader, though! it'll most likely be cross-posted between here, ao3, and wattpad if i post it
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musical-chick-13 · 9 months ago
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I bring a real "Doctor x River OTP" vibe that a bunch of the DW fandom doesn't really like.
#the ONE good thing about college is that most of the fans I met there really did love her and this ship#but I think that might be because we were all mentally ill and Going Through It™#not that like. shipping this is a symptom of mental illness I just mean that this relationship was...honestly kind of unlike anything#else that was onscreen at the time?#she got to be MESSY. she was incredibly extra and emotional and vulnerable and she got to MESS UP SOMETIMES. IN REALLY BIG WAYS EVEN.#she was a genuinely MORALLY GREY character and all of these were seen not as things that made her inherently harmful or#someone the protagonist should At All Costs Stay Away From#but as someone uniquely equipped to understand him and STILL WORTH CARING FOR#there were so many like. BIG emotions and she was allowed to have PROBLEMS and be a lot of things that were considered#'unpalatable' for women to be and their whole thing was that he forgave her for EVERYTHING. even with all of her flaws she was the one#who 'always knew' and the one he listened to#...you can see how that might speak to a bunch of angry lonely mentally ill people#like this relationship isn't perfectly written. and I'm not trying to say that this era of the show was a grand feminist masterpiece lol#but...again. it really was a lot different than anything else that was on tv at the time#and she wasn't rail-thin and 23!!!! do you know how RARE it was for us to see a love interest outside of that!!!!!!!!!#(ESPECIALLY given. you know. the HORRIBLE toxic beauty standard culture that comes with. studying to be/actually being a performer.)#the only other like...significant female character I can think of from this tv era who was generally 'unpalatable' was...rachel from glee#and eventually they...idk what they did but she definitely became more in line with 'typical' protagonist fare#(and of course there was also the fact that THAT show--at least for a while--was ostensibly grounded in reality. and she was still#a certain age and body type)#(so I think my original point still stands)
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plutotheplum · 4 months ago
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Resonance
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sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!
summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence
wc: 4.5k
a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3
also posted on ao3!
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You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place. 
A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations. 
The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.  
Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair. 
A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.
The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.
“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”
He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”
He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything . 
“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”
Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.
“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.
He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.
A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him. 
He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.
“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.
Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”
“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”
He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.
“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap. 
His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”
“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”
You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.
“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.
Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot. 
“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”
Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.
“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows. 
His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.
Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.
He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .” 
“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest. 
He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push. 
“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”
“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup. 
“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.
“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words. 
“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.
You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.
He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.
“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.
He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.
You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.
He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.
“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.
“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”
He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.
“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”
You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.
“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.
There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.
“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.
You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.” 
“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”
A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.
Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.
“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.
You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.
The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.
“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe. 
Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.
“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.
He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.
“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”
He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare. 
Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.
You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties. 
“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.
“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.
He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”
He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers. 
“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.
He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.
Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric. 
“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”
That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 
A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.
“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly. 
His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”
His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.
“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing. 
“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.” 
“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.
The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.
“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”
The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.
“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.” 
A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.
“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”
“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.
“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”
“I wasn’t imagining-“
“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.
His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.
You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.
“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.” 
It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up. 
You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.
It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.
“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.
“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.
You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. 
“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”
You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.
“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”
You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away. 
“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.
He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.
“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”
His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.
“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace. 
“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.
“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.
It’s going to be a long night.
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mostlysignssomeportents · 26 days ago
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You should be using an RSS reader
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On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, GEORGIA, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.
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No matter how hard we all wish it were otherwise, the sad fact is that there aren't really individual solutions to systemic problems. For example: your personal diligence in recycling will have no meaningful impact on the climate emergency.
I get it. People write to me all the time, they say, "What can I change about my life to fight enshittification, or, at the very least, to reduce the amount of enshittification that I, personally, experience?"
It's frustrating, but my general answer is, "Join a movement. Get involved with a union, with EFF, with the FSF. Tell your Congressional candidate to defend Lina Khan from billionaire Dem donors who want her fired. Do something systemic."
There's very little you can do as a consumer. You're not going to shop your way out of monopoly capitalism. Now that Amazon has destroyed most of the brick-and-mortar and digital stores out of business, boycotting Amazon often just means doing without. The collective action problem of leaving Twitter or Facebook is so insurmountable that you end up stuck there, with a bunch of people you love and rely on, who all love each other, all hate the platform, but can't agree on a day and time to leave or a destination to leave for and so end up stuck there.
I've been experiencing some challenging stuff in my personal life lately and yesterday, I just found myself unable to deal with my usual podcast fare so I tuned into the videos from the very last XOXO, in search of uplifting fare:
https://www.youtube.com/@xoxofest
I found it. Talks by Dan Olson, Cabel Sasser, Ed Yong and many others, especially Molly White:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTaeVVAvk-c
Molly's talk was so, so good, but when I got to her call to action, I found myself pulling a bit of a face:
But the platforms do not exist without the people, and there are a lot more of us than there are of them. The platforms have installed themselves in a position of power, but they are also vulnerable…
Are the platforms really that vulnerable? The collective action problem is so hard, the switching costs are so high – maybe the fact that "there's a lot more of us than there are of them" is a bug, not a feature. The more of us there are, the thornier our collective action problem and the higher the switching costs, after all.
And then I had a realization: the conduit through which I experience Molly's excellent work is totally enshittification-proof, and the more I use it, the easier it is for everyone to be less enshittified.
This conduit is anti-lock-in, it works for nearly the whole internet. It is surveillance-resistant, far more accessible than the web or any mobile app interface. It is my secret super-power.
It's RSS.
RSS (one of those ancient internet acronyms with multiple definitions, including, but not limited to, "Really Simple Syndication") is an invisible, automatic way for internet-connected systems to public "feeds." For example, rather than reloading the Wired homepage every day and trying to figure out which stories are new (their layout makes this very hard to do!), you can just sign up for Wired's RSS feed, and use an RSS reader to monitor the site and preview new stories the moment they're published. Wired pushes about 600 words from each article into that feed, stripped of the usual stuff that makes Wired nearly impossible to read: no 20-second delay subscription pop-up, text in a font and size of your choosing. You can follow Wired's feed without any cookies, and Wired gets no information about which of its stories you read. Wired doesn't even get to know that you're monitoring its feed.
I don't mean to pick on Wired here. This goes for every news source I follow – from CNN to the New York Times. But RSS isn't just good for the news! It's good for everything. Your friends' blogs? Every blogging platform emits an RSS feed by default. You can follow every one of them in your reader.
Not just blogs. Do you follow a bunch of substackers or other newsletters? They've all got RSS feeds. You can read those newsletters without ever registering in the analytics of the platforms that host them. The text shows up in black and white (not the sadistic, 8-point, 80% grey-on-white type these things all default to). It is always delivered, without any risk of your email provider misclassifying an update as spam:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/10/dead-letters/
Did you know that, by default, your email sends information to mailing list platforms about your reading activity? The platform gets to know if you opened the message, and often how far along you've read in it. On top of that, they get all the private information your browser or app leaks about you, including your location. This is unbelievably gross, and you get to bypass all of it, just by reading in RSS.
Are your friends too pithy for a newsletter, preferring to quip on social media? Unfortunately, it's pretty hard to get an RSS feed from Insta/FB/Twitter, but all those new ones that have popped up? They all have feeds. You can follow any Mastodon account (which means you can follow any Threads account) via RSS. Same for Bluesky. That also goes for older platforms, like Tumblr and Medium. There's RSS for Hacker News, and there's a sub-feed for the comments on every story. You can get RSS feeds for the Fedex, UPS and USPS parcels you're awaiting, too.
Your local politician's website probably has an RSS feed. Ditto your state and national reps. There's an RSS feed for each federal agency (the FCC has a great blog!).
Your RSS reader lets you put all these feeds into folders if you want. You can even create automatic folders, based on keywords, or even things like "infrequently updated sites" (I follow a bunch of people via RSS who only update a couple times per year – cough, Danny O'Brien, cough – and never miss a post).
Your RSS reader doesn't (necessarily) have an algorithm. By default, you'll get everything as it appears, in reverse-chronological order.
Does that remind you of anything? Right: this is how social media used to work, before it was enshittified. You can single-handedly disenshittify your experience of virtually the entire web, just by switching to RSS, traveling back in time to the days when Facebook and Twitter were more interested in showing you the things you asked to see, rather than the ads and boosted content someone else would pay to cram into your eyeballs.
Now, you sign up to so many feeds that you're feeling overwhelmed and you want an algorithm to prioritize posts – or recommend content. Lots of RSS readers have some kind of algorithm and recommendation system (I use News, which offers both, though I don't use them – I like the glorious higgeldy-piggeldy of the undifferentiated firehose feed).
But you control the algorithm, you control the recommendations. And if a new RSS reader pops up with an algorithm you're dying to try, you can export all the feeds you follow with a single click, which will generate an OPML file. Then, with one click, you can import that OPML file into any other RSS reader in existence and all your feeds will be seamlessly migrated there. You can delete your old account, or you can even use different readers for different purposes.
You can access RSS in a browser or in an app on your phone (most RSS readers have an app), and they'll sync up, so a story you mark to read later on your phone will be waiting for you the next time you load up your reader in a browser tab, and you won't see the same stories twice (unless you want to, in which case you can mark them as unread).
RSS basically works like social media should work. Using RSS is a chance to visit a utopian future in which the platforms have no power, and all power is vested in publishers, who get to decide what to publish, and in readers, who have total control over what they read and how, without leaking any personal information through the simple act of reading.
And here's the best part: every time you use RSS, you bring that world closer into being! The collective action problem that the publishers and friends and politicians and businesses you care about is caused by the fact that everyone they want to reach is on a platform, so if they leave the platform, they'll lose that community. But the more people who use RSS to follow them, the less they'll depend on the platform.
Unlike those largely useless, performative boycotts of widely used platforms, switching to RSS doesn't require that you give anything up. Not only does switching to RSS let you continue to follow all the newsletters, webpages and social media accounts you're following now, it makes doing so better: more private, more accessible, and less enshittified.
Switching to RSS lets you experience just the good parts of the enshitternet, but that experience is delivered in manner that the new, good internet we're all dying for.
My own newsletter is delivered in fulltext via RSS. If you're reading this as a Mastodon or Twitter thread, on Tumblr or on Medium, or via email, you can get it by RSS instead:
https://pluralistic.net/feed/
Don't worry about which RSS reader you start with. It literally doesn't matter. Remember, you can switch readers with two clicks and take all the feeds you've subscribed to with you! If you want a recommendation, I have nothing but praise for Newsblur, which I've been paying $2/month for since 2011 (!):
https://newsblur.com/
Subscribing to feeds is super-easy, too: the links for RSS feeds are invisibly embedded in web-pages. Just paste the URL of a web-page into your RSS reader's "add feed" box and it'll automagically figure out where the feed lives and add it to your subscriptions.
It's still true that the new, good internet will require a movement to overcome the collective action problems and the legal barriers to disenshittifying things. Almost nothing you do as an individual is going to make a difference.
But using RSS will! Using RSS to follow the stuff that matters to you will have an immediate, profoundly beneficial impact on your own digital life – and it will appreciably, irreversibly nudge the whole internet towards a better state.
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Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/#read-receipts-are-you-kidding-me-seriously-fuck-that-noise
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munson-blurbs · 5 months ago
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Summary: A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?
WC: 1.6k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, friends-to-lovers, kinda sub!Eddie but he's mostly just a simp.
A/N: This will be my last 1k+ fic for a while, as I'll be focusing on writing blurbs for Corroded Coffin Fest throughout July. Why not go out with a (literal) bang?
--
“What do you mean, you forgot your key?”
Your eyes widen as Eddie flicks through the keyring. He shakes his head in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 
“I was switching keychains…I thought I put them all back…” He huffs out an irritated laugh. “Must’ve left the house key on the table.”
A warm breeze siphons through the humidity, gray clouds rolling in. August in Hawkins is unbearable as it is, and the sticky heat before a storm is downright brutal. 
Eddie jiggles the doorknob once more, to no avail. “Jesus H. Christ.” He rakes a hand through his curls, frizzy and knotted from the hot weather. “Back to your place?”
Before you can agree, lightning flashes and is swiftly accompanied by booming thunder. Your heart leaps into your throat and you jump. 
“Scared the shit outta me, too.” Eddie laughs nervously. A fat raindrop falls from the sky and plops on his nose, rolling off of the side. Another lands on his cheek, then one lands on yours, until rain pours in a steady sheet. 
Eddie grabs your hand, tugging you off of the trailer’s front steps and pulling you back to his van. He flings open the back doors, always kept unlocked unless he’s hauling concert equipment. 
“Get in,” he orders, and you follow his instructions without a second though. Rainwater pools in the grass, dirt turning into mud beneath your sneakered feet. His hands grip your waist, steadying you as you climb up. “We’ll wait in here until the rain dies down.”
You ignore the lingering flames that his touch leaves behind and the way he’s now sitting right next to you. “It’s like a monsoon out there.”
“Yeah.”
The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the storm raging outside. Raindrops sound like drum beats against the van’s exterior, a song you’ve heard many times before. 
A chill sweeps over you, reminding you of the wet cotton of your t-shirt clinging to your torso. Your miniskirt hasn't fared much better, the light-washed denim now dark. 
“Do you have a blanket back here?”
Eddie shakes his head. “That’s, like, the one thing I don’t have.” He gestures to the cluttered space. 
You offer a half-smile. “S’okay.” Your palms glide up and down your goosebump-covered arms. 
He notices this, frowning. “Here,” he says. “My hands are bigger than yours.” He clumsily positions himself behind you, knees knocking against your sides. His grasp is strong but gentle, hands warming you up from the outside in. 
“Thanks.” He’s close—so close—yet it feels like he’s never been farther away. Without thinking, you scoot back until your ass brushes against his fly. 
“Sh-Shit.” Eddie inhales sharply. “That’s, um, dangerous territory.”
You raise your brows, though he can’t see them. “And rubbing my arms isn’t?”
Eddie peers around, chin resting on your shoulder. He looks up and says, “it doesn’t turn you on though.”
“Says who?”
He breathes out a laugh, stopping immediately when he realizes that you’re not joking. His voice is barely above a whisper when he asks, “This…this turns you on?” 
You nod, suddenly shy at the admission. 
“How about this?” Eddie’s lips press against the back of your neck. One calloused hand reaches for the collar of your shirt, tugging it down to expose your shoulder. He kisses that, too, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. 
“Mhm.”
“Fuck.” His other hand snakes around your throat, holding it firmly but being careful not to squeeze. “We shouldn’t do this. S’gonna ruin our friendship.”
Gently, you turn to face him, legs straddling his waist. “I’m fine with ruining it if you are.” The words are murmured, muffled by the proximity of your lips and his. 
Eddie swallows, Adam's apple bobbing with trepidation. “Just want you. Fuck, I want you so bad.”
He grabs your ass and pulls you closer until you can feel his erection straining against his jeans. You roll your hips, eliciting a moan from him. 
“You—I gotta—” He unbuckles his belt, tossing it amongst the van’s clutter. “I’m so hard it hurts.”
You reach for his pants button, but he shakes his head. “I’ll bust if you touch me,” he sheepishly explains. 
He takes off his own pants, which is much more of a chore than usual because of the rain-soaked fabric. He doesn’t bother to remove his Hellfire shirt, but you hardly notice. His tented boxers hold your focus, and despite his warning, you strip them away. You need to see what’s beneath them. 
The sight before you is nothing less than glorious. 
His cock is hard, curved slightly left, the pinkish-purple tip already leaking pre-cum. Your thumb traces the vein that runs along the shaft, and he shivers at your touch. When he looks at you with wide, wet eyes, you nearly melt on the spot.
“Is…Is this what you want?” Eddie’s voice is so soft you can barely hear it above the pouring rain. “Because…I want this so bad. So fucking bad.” Pleading, desperate, bordering on pathetic. Everything he showed outwardly, you felt on the inside.
You lean in, capturing his lips and pouring all of your desire into one searing kiss. “Don’t just want it. Need it. Need you,” you reassure him, feeling his length twitch against you. Taking it in your hand, you move your panties out of the way and rub the head against your clit. Every nudge sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. “Mmmph, please, please.”
Eddie wraps his hand around yours, guiding his cock into you. “There you go,” he whispers, hissing as you sink down. He fills you completely, bringing a pinch of pain as you adjust to him. “You okay?”
“Mhm. M-More than okay.” You grip his shoulders, curling your fingers into the shirt’s cotton fabric.  Moving your hips, you work him deeper until he’s bottomed out, sheathed within you down to the curls at his base. 
Everything is Eddie, and it feels so good. 
“Can’t believe I’m inside you.” He tries to kiss you, the action hindered by a small laugh. “I’m actually—we’re actually doing this. Fuck, you feel so good!” The last sentence is a growl, raw and primal. 
You hold on to him, knees scraping against the van’s worn carpet as your movements find their rhythm. There’s no more time for self-control. Only Eddie, his hips bucking to meet your core. 
“Might…might not last long,” he admits, swiping at a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “You’re even better than my fantasies. Never knew you’d feel this f-fucking warm. Tight. Like you’re m-made for me.”
“Maybe I am.” You swoop down to suck on his neck. “Maybe I am made for you, and I’ve been waiting for you to realize it.”
Eddie groans, throwing his head back and exposing more of his neck, which you dutifully continue marking. His thoughts are clouded by lust; neither of you speak for a while, the only noises are moans and the van squeaking on its axles. 
“It’s always you.”
Your eyes meet his. “What?”
“In my fantasies. It’s always you. Every time I jerk off, I imagine your hands, your mouth, your perfect pussy—”
“Eddie.” His name is barely a breath. You clench around him just as he kisses you, and his teeth sink into your lower lip. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but it produces a twinge of pain that has you skyrocketing towards climax. “Yes, yes, yes!”
He grabs your hips harshly, keeping you flush against him. The denim waistband of your skirt digs into your skin but you don’t care. Nothing matters, only Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…
“I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming.” He thrusts upwards in short, punctuated strokes, heaving as he spills into you. 
The two of you stay like that for a few moments, catching your breath and processing what just happened. You confessed that Eddie’s touch turned you on, you rode him in the back of his van, and then he confessed that he thinks about you when he touches himself. 
Oh, and he gave you an earth-shattering orgasm. 
As if reading your mind, Eddie says softly, “you came…right? Because if you didn’t, I can—”
“Yeah.” You can’t help but giggle, silencing him with a kiss. “I definitely came.”
His chest sags with relief. “Good. Me, too. I mean, obviously. It’s right…” He withdraws, cock softening, his cum trickling down your thigh. “Holy fucking shit.” 
There’s no masking his grin, visible through the t-shirt’s thin fabric as he pulls it over his head. With a careful touch, he wipes away his mess. 
“I think I owe you a new shirt.”
“Nah.” He shakes his head, tossing the shirt aside. “I have a million of these. Not the first time one’s been, uh, stained.”
Eddie’s cheeks turn crimson at his admission. He averts his gaze from you, bringing his attention to the foggy window. The condensation squeaks under his forefinger as he draws a smiley face through it. 
“What do you wanna do till my uncle gets home?”
You, you think, but the last thing you need is for Wayne to find the van a-rockin’. “Maybe I could hear more about those fantasies of yours? And I could tell you some of mine?”
Eddie looks back at you, his spent cock still managing a small twitch. “Mmm.” His lips find your throat, sending vibrations through you when he speaks. One hand snakes between your bodies, his middle finger landing on your clit. He makes small, deliberate circles as he murmurs.
“Ladies first.”
--
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fish-and-forbear · 2 years ago
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Really just hope things will be okay. I know they will be, I know I have always done all I could with the information and means I had but.
Hindsight is 20/20 I suppose.
Just need to learn to forgive myself and move on, with many many things
- Fisher
#just thinking about a lot of things#I think we all just need a nap#drank water ate half a sandwich got blankets and a dog and the queue is full of funny and nice and thoughtful things#finally made a doctors appointment for my heart rate#didnt entirely destroy beautiful friendships so thats REALLY good#just thinking about. other relationships too (all kinds) and how talking so much and believing when people say its ok but its not#really end up hurting everyone. even though i try so hard to not do that#i need to learn to forgive myself#for a lot of things#because i did all i could to fix so many things and sometimes the most healthy and gentle thing to do is. just to stop trying#damn. thats really depressing. :c#i need a nap. everyone feels quiet and rattled. we just need to sleep and reset I think#i just. hate that I cause people distress by being myself. everyone wants me to be myself but time and time again no one actually stays#when they see what I am.#that doesn't feel entirely true. its just mean neurotypicals who do that. or. people who simply need more space#and thats never their fault. EVER. i just wish people knew I mean it when I tell them I want to support their boundaries and won't be upset#if something is wrong I just want to know so we can fix it... or find a better solution#just. need to learn to stifle my emotions a bit more. I've always been emotional and loved so strongly and felt so deeply.#this is all a mix of... sound reasoning and... just the tiredness talking.#i should just sleep and see how the world fares tomorrow#i just hope the people i care about who need space... don't entirely regret me meeting them.#my dear friend here at home seemed upset at us tonight for some reason and wont respond to my message#i hope she isnt upset for real. i am terrified that... some of the behaviors Grist has will remind her of a Bad Time#Grist means so well. but he can't meet her yet. That breaks my heart.
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dollfacefantasy · 6 months ago
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34 + 35 ♡
older bf!toji fushiguro x fem!reader
you tell toji you can handle a 69, and he wants you to prove it to him.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, 69ing, oral sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, light praise/degradation
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“Get to it, doll. You said you could do it,” your boyfriend teases from beneath you.
Toji’s hand meets your ass hard, a clear smack ringing throughout the room. You nearly topple over onto him from the jolt but stabilize yourself before you crash. Your hands grab onto his hips as you glance down at his toned body.
It’s where you were heading anyways, so you relax your arms and lower yourself. Your abdomen rests flush against his. Your face hovers a few inches from his cock. It was already hard, the tip an even brighter red against the pale skin of his pelvis. It’d been in your mouth before countless times, but never while he also had his face buried between your legs.
“C’mon. You wanted a proper 69, didn’t ya? Gotta put it in your mouth then, sweet thing,” he coos.
His own hands currently ghosted up and down the back of your thighs, leaving chills in their wake. He teasingly nips and kisses at the skin leading up to your center. Your anticipation builds, and you know you do in fact need to get to it. It was your idea after all. He’d just gotten back from a bounty, one he actually collected successfully. He was in a better mood than normal, just wanted you to sit on his face as a treat.
You couldn’t just be happy with that generous offer. Too many comments about how hard he was ended up with the two of you debating whether or not you could handle 69ing. You knew you couldn’t. You went dumb with his cock in your mouth while on your knees with nothing distracting you. But you couldn't just let him be right all the time, that was no fun.
Now you’re here though. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock tentatively as you spit a decent amount of saliva onto the head. You watch it dribble down the veiny shaft. It takes a little to go down the full length to your fingers, but as soon as it does, you start stroking. Up and down, your hand squeezes gently as you get his dick slippery.
“Daddy’s not gonna start till I feel those pretty lips wrapped around me,” he whispers, his way of saying stop wasting time while in a good mood.
Parting your lips, you take it just like he taught you to. Just like he likes it. You suckle the tip deeper and bob your head, swirling your tongue and flicking it against the little ridge. His chest deflates under you as he lets out a pleasured sigh.
It doesn’t take him long to return the favor though. His tongue darts out and laps at your clit. His large hands hold your hips firmly in place. There was no squirming away from this. Each breath gave him a hit of your heady scent. 
For him, this was heaven. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t tried this with you sooner. He got to have that precious little mouth on his cock while devouring his baby like she was the finest meal on earth.
You, on the other hand, weren’t faring as well. You were already shuddering from the sensations. Each stripe he licked over your cunt, each swipe against your swollen bud made you whine and just wanna melt on top of him.
You keep trying though. You suck more of him into your mouth, stroking the part of him you aren’t ready for yet. Spit leaks from your mouth and coats even more of his length which pulses in your mouth. The weight of it on your tongue has your mind beginning to swirl. Precum oozes from the head and coats your tongue.
“Daddy…” you whine, but it comes out garbled because of the dick in your mouth.
He chuckles and gives you another nice slap on the ass. “That’s right, baby. You’re takin’ daddy so good, makin’ me proud,” he mutters into your pussy.
He holds you down tighter, pressing your cunt right up close to his face. His tongue laves at your sensitive bundle of nerves, twirling around it, teasing it with tiny flitting motions and then overwhelming you with a harsh suck. Your whimpers get louder while your hand slows down on his cock.
You gotta make him proud though. You force yourself to take more, lodging him as far in your throat as you can get him. He hears the little gag that comes from you as you try to get your mouth all the way around his shaft. His lips morph into a smirk against your center. He continues making out with your cunt like he’s trying to take in every last drop of you.
As he gets sloppier, going from precise and calculated to messy and open-mouthed, you start to lose it a bit. Your hands shake, and you have to grip his hips to keep yourself somewhat steady. You keep sucking his cock, hollowing your cheeks and rhythmically rising and falling. More needy whimpers fall from your lips. You try to rock your hips, but he’s got a good grip on ‘em.
“It's getting harder, isn’t it baby?” he taunts. His hand slithers between your legs to rub at your puffy clit a little bit, drawing an even louder noise from you. “Now you’re seeing why daddy just wanted to play with you first.”
“I- I’m fine…” you stammer out. It’s an obvious lie, but you try to maintain the facade.
“You are? Still wanna act like a big girl, huh?” he teases.
His mouth takes over again. You’re left shivering with your eyes screwed shut. You inhale sharply before trying to return to your task. You go back to stroking him. Your hand twists as it goes, brushing over the head and smearing the sticky, white droplets over the length.
But as soon as his hand comes back and pinches your clit, you squeal and your efforts fail. Your head drops to his pelvis where your cheek squishes against his warm skin. He only wishes he could see your face because he knows the way your lips are puffing out into that cute pout. Your hips rut on instinct, and he has to lock them in place with a tighter hold.
“Stay still, babydoll. Seems like you’re getting a little distracted,” he murmurs before reattaching his lips to your pussy.
You moan loudly but scoot your head a little closer. 
“I’m not, daddy,” you whimper. Your tongue sticks out to lap at his balls. You suckle one into your mouth, but all he does is laugh.
He nuzzles further between your legs, speeding up the motions of his tongue. Your legs start to quiver and tense up. They close around his head, and he knows what’s coming.
“Let it out,” he grunts.
Your back arches and your nails dig into his flesh. You take your mouth off him all together and turn your head against his thigh to hide the expressions your features scrunch into. You groan against him, your hips bucking and jerking with each wave of euphoria. 
He lets you ride it out, but once you come down, he doesn’t stop. You claw at his legs, trying to crawl away and seek refuge between his huge thighs. He pulls you back into place though and kneads your ass cheeks soothingly.
“Not gonna happen, little girl. Not letting you go until you get me to cum at least once,” he says. With that, he’s back to using his mouth for more important things.
“Daddy!” you whine. Normally, that would be easy, but you couldn’t even do it the first time around and now you had overstimulation frying your nerves.
He’s loud between your thighs, wet, sensual noises echoing from the top of the bed where his head rests. You try to match and slurp around his shaft, but it’s difficult when you’re so shaky and it feels like your insides are melting.
You’re so whiny too. Your head drops back to its place next to his dick as you lazily jerk him off.
He keeps going and brings you to another high minutes later. You mewl even louder for him and drop his cock, letting it fall against your face and rest on your cheek. Your eyes flutter as the ecstasy takes over for a moment.
“Not so easy is it, baby?” he croons, “It’s so much easier just letting daddy take care of you, huh?”
“Mhm,” you hum with a dizzy nod.
He places a tender kiss on your clit and chuckles as he sees you clench around nothing. This time he does give you a small break. You both knew he could reduce you to a puddle of sobs and moans if he so desired, but he wanted to give you a little chance.
And you don’t take it for granted. You lift your head again. Your cheek feels numb from being pressed to his hip for a while. As the blood circulates through it again, you return your lips to the tip of his cock. You spit down on it for the second time tonight and take it into the warm embrace of your mouth.
Your sucking starts off languid. He was still lapping at your cunt, but not with the dedication he had previously. He kept you simmering in pleasure but held off the real heat of bliss for now. Little sounds of delight still come from you every so often, but they're muffled around his girth.
You start increasing the speed of your head and tighten the suction of your mouth a bit. It’s his turn to let his head fall back. His thumb weakly rubs up and down your pussy while he enjoys the feeling of you sucking him off.
“Fuck, dolly,” he groans, “That’s it. Such a good girl.”
You suck more, feeling like you can actually do this. You’re drooling all over his cock, eyes going glossy like they always did when you had nothing on the brain but Toji. Your lips smack around the tip haphazardly before you take it down your throat again. You hold your breath for a moment, letting him enjoy your throat. You then rise up again before bobbing your head with the most fervor you can muster.
His hips twitch a bit, and he chokes out some moans against your dripping cunt. He starts increasing the pressure of his mouth, wanting to make you cum once more with him. Your hips tremble, but you’re determined. If you didn’t get it now, you figured you’d be spending the night with his head between your thighs.
“You’re gonna make daddy cum, doll. Fuck,” he mutters, “Actin’ like a perfect slut just for me.”
You lick his cock from the base to the tip, flattening your tongue and trying to hit every sensitive spot he had. His fingers dig into the plump of your ass more. You could feel little marks forming on your skin, but they only spurred you on.
“That’s my little girl. That’s what that mouth was made for,” he breathes.
Whimpering and twitching, you take him as deep as you can again.
“Oh fuck,” he grunts. His hips snap up a bit as he shoots his load down your throat. You can practically feel the rumbling of his groans against your tummy. They rise in his chest and seep out against your entrance as he continues fucking his tongue into you. You take in deep breaths through your nose as he works you to one more release. It’s not as intense as the first two, but the dull pleasure is still one of the best feelings you’ve experienced. 
You swallow every drop of cum he gives you before pulling off him for the final time. A string of saliva still connects you with his shiny tip as your head collapses onto him.
He takes a deep breath before lifting you up and spinning you around like it’s nothing. Your head now rests against his chest where you can listen to the thundering of his heart. He hums with satisfaction and rubs his hand up and down your back.
“Did I do good, daddy?” you mumble.
He looks down at you and the slow way you blink when you’ve cum a few times.
“Yeah, babydoll. You did as much as you could,” he says with a little smirk.
You pop your head up at the playful jab. “I tried. It’s not my fault you’re like… so good at that,” you say and shoot him a look.
“Sure, sure. I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing till you get better at it, hm?” he teases.
You nod before leaning in and kissing him. The both of you part your lips to deepen the exchange, tasting one another in the other’s mouth.
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teaandspite · 3 months ago
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The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)
Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)
Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.
"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"
"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."
"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"
"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."
"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."
"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."
"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."
"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."
"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."
"The author is a pompous windbag."
"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."
"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"
"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."
"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."
"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."
"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."
"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."
"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."
"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."
"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"
"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"
"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."
"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."
"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."
"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”
Part 2
Part 3
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claratyler · 1 year ago
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the thing we need to understand is that the pope is not at all pro-lgbt rights in anyway. Does he oppose violenece/hate as a blanket sort of core belief? Yes, so this includes violence and hate towards a queer person. But that doesnt mean he believesthat being queer is something to be celebrated, let alone acceptable.
Does he say any gay person can join in the mass? Yes, as a blanket sort of core belief because christianity is supposed to be for everyone, and nobody, regardless of their moral failings (such as being queer, which IS regarded as a moral failing), should be turned away from participating in the holy rituals or getting close to God.
The thing you need to understand about modern day catholics is that many of them will look you in the face and say "Being gay is not a bad thing. We all have temptations we have to stay clear off. It's not the fact that you have this inclination that defines you, it's whether you choose to engage by thought and/or action instead of actively suppressing it that we look down upon." And then they'll tell you in a way they think is kind and helpful that they know a person who can help with treating that.
"The pope now accepts trans people!" Are you sure. Are you really sure
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How do you think this is going to fare in reality when the parameters for this "acceptance" are "pastoral prudence" and "public scandal" and "educational disorientation".
Also, on gay people:
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This is literally what i was saying: A gay person who represses their inclinations is what they mean by leading a life that conforms to the faith. Thats why a gay person in a gay relationship/marriage (which btw gay marriage is not existent in the roman catholic church, the very notion is a contradiction in their eyes) could not be eligible.
And why do i know allthis and why am i ranting about this? Because #CatholicUniTrauma and im tired of people misunderstanding how fucked up the entire catholic church is because of misleading headlines or quotes taken out of context. The pope is not woke. Seriously.
quoted article: The New York Times' "Vatican Says Transgender People Can Be Baptized and Become Godparents" by Jason Horowitz, Elisabetta Povoledo, and Ruth Graham. Published Nov 9 2023 (tumblr wont let me paste the link for some reason)
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moon1833 · 3 months ago
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SEVEN METER -INUMAKI TOGE
“Inumaki Toge had given up on his dream of being able to verbally confess to the person he liked years ago.”
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By the time Inumaki turned ten, he fully accepted the fact that he would live his life without anyone fully understanding what he wanted to say.
It was a bit lonely at first, to see everyone around him besides his family talk freely, but he had no other life to compare it to.
By the time he was seventeen, the dream had fell into the furthest corner in the back of his mind, hardly ever remembering it being a thought until you, the new second year student, revealed your technique to him during training.
“Freeze.” His command sounded different off his tongue, but he didn’t notice it right away.
When you kicked your legs out anyway, forcing him off balance and throwing him to the ground, then he realized something was off.
Inumaki’s cheek was in the grass, his arm pinned to his back as your legs stopped him from twisting. From the corner of his eye, he stared at you in confusion, and a bit of admiration.
“It’s my cursed technique.” You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “It stops all techniques in a seven meter radius.”
You step off of him, giving him your hand to help him get up. He takes it, his lips parted slightly in shock.
“I know, I’m sorry.” You help dust some dirt off his shoulder. “You could’ve spoken to me without having to limit your vocabulary when you first met me yesterday, but I wanted to surprise you.”
You wait as he takes the information in, his mind trailing with possibilities, trying to figure out what his first real words would be to you.
“It’s… okay.” He settles on, feeling as though he was attempting another language.
“Here, let’s go again.” You smile. “It’ll be fair this time.”
From that point on, Inumaki couldn’t deny he felt a slight attachment to you. After all, he could talk freely to you and not worry about hurting you.
It was an adjustment, to be sure. He wasn’t used to the sound of his own voice using so many words at a time, and that his throat didn’t hurt when he did.
At the same time, you found yourself at his side as well. He smiled more when you were in the room, and you believed it was because he had someone he could now actually talk to.
Everyone else, however, read into it a different way.
Gojo was convinced you two were both in love with each other, constantly setting you up together in sparring work and putting you on missions together. Maki, Panda, and even Yuuta teased him relentlessly, desperately trying to get the boy to admit he had a crush on you.
Sure, you might’ve been powerful, hard working, and one of the prettiest people Inumaki had ever had the pleasure of seeing, but that didn’t mean he had a crush on you.
Besides, even if Inumaki did, personal feelings was the last thing you wanted to get mixed up in. You had made that crystal clear on your very first day, practically skipping onto Jujitsu High, brimming with determination that rivaled Maki.
Your cursed technique was incredibly useful, but it was still messy. You were hoping to learn to control it better, as well as improve your combat skills. After all, you had people to save, and things like romance didn’t fare well with jujitsu sorcerers.
Even you couldn’t deny, though, there was definitely something going on between you and Inumaki.
You were always training, eating, or even sleeping together. In class, your seats were always together, and he’d whisper commentary about Gojo-Sensei’s weird teaching that would have you covering your mouth to conceal your laughter.
By the time you both had turned eighteen, your classmates had truly had enough.
“Can you two just kiss already?” Maki’s face twisted as she complained, eyeing her friends were practically on top of each other on the couch in the common room.
You removed your legs from Toge’s lap, immediately missing how he drew circles on your knees.
“Honestly, I think you two actually making out in front of us instead of the constant heart eyes would be less intimate.” Megumi suddenly joins the conversation, Itadori nodding in agreement beside him.
Your eyes slightly widen in surprise, and you don’t have to look at Toge to know he’s flushed red.
“Bonito flakes.” He pouts, crossing his arms and shrinking into his hoodie.
“Oh, come on.” Nobara groans, throwing her head against her armchair. “This is borderline annoying.”
“I’m loosing money, you know.” Maki’s grinning a bit now. “We should lock them in a closet or something.”
“No, no.” You say quickly. “You people are insane.”
“And you’re boring.” Nobara whines.
Itadori whispers something to Megumi, and he looks at him quizzically. Nobara must have overheard it, because she’s howling with laughter.
“What?” Maki pries.
“Yuuji thought they were already together.” She says in between gasps.
Toge fully hides his face in his hands, but you can see bits of reddened skin between his fingers.
Luckily, Panda comes back with a few snacks a few minutes later, and the topic changes. The group decides to watch a movie, and for the first time, you try your best to not fall asleep on Toge’s shoulder.
Still, it’s past midnight when the movies credits begin to roll, and your head feels heavy. Your blinks are longer, and you rest your face against the head of the loveseat.
Silently, Toge watches you carefully. You’re fighting (and failing) to stay awake, and your face is scrunched slightly.
The two of you are the only people still awake, Maki was using Panda as a pillow, and the three underclassmen were sleeping on top of each other.
Toge pokes your face, and you snap up. There’s a coy smile on his lips, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad at him.
“What?” You whisper.
He shrugs, a bit worried about speaking with so many people in the room.
“It’s okay, I’ve gotten good at it.” You reassure. You had mastered it last month, being able to target one individual and force them to not have any cursed techniques. Only downside was using it for an extended time would make you pass out.
He nods a bit shyly before swallowing. “That movie was ass.”
You laugh sharply, nodding in agreement. “I’m not sure why we let Itadori pick anymore.”
At his name, the boy in question let out a guttural snore, and you and Toge couldn’t contain your giggles.
“C’mon.” You push him up. “We’re going to wake them up.”
Still holding back your laughter, the two of you ran hand in hand down the hallway and up the stairs.
From the other side of the stairs, you could hear footsteps trotting closer to you. Before you heard his footsteps, you felt his cursed energy. Quickly, you enabled your own technique to hide your and Toge’s trails, holding onto his shoulder to stop his movements.
Realistically, Gojo probably wouldn’t give two shits that you were out past curfew, but on the off chance that he did, you didn’t want to serve detention with him again.
The last time, he had left you in the classroom overnight because he had locked the door and forgot you were there. You had to climb out of the window to get out.
You pulled Toge under the stairwell, unintentionally gripping onto him with both hands. His arms were comfortably wrapped around your waist, and he was grinning ear to ear.
Gojo started to whistle incredibly off key as he walked, and the you made the mistake of making eye contact with Toge as he did.
“Shh!” You covered his mouth with your hand, but you were still laughing. In response, he covers your mouth as well, and you still don’t realize you’re practically nose to nose.
The both of you are still giddy, shushing laughs that are a bit too loud for you to not get caught. You can’t pull away from his eyes, and your mouth parts slightly.
Before you can think about it, you press your lips to his, ceasing the rare opportunity of the boys chin above his jacket.
He giggles into the kiss, holding your face in his hands. You grin, and your teeth graze his lip. He gasps, and your hands grip onto his shirt.
Toge presses harder into you, and you stagger back into the wall. You’re suddenly familiar with how he tastes, and it’s an addiction you cannot want to be used to.
Inumaki Toge had given up on his dream of being able to verbally confess to the person he liked years ago. But, there you were, staring up at him with pretty eyes and a smile that knocked the wind out of him, and the words ‘I love you’ were so so simple to say.
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avatar-anna · 20 days ago
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Hiiii i thought of your young parents series today while scrolling through tik tok. An old clip came up from when Nickelodeon pranked them with that lady going into labor and Harry is like the most calm and attentive in it. Anyway I was like “ahhh and he would be if he had like a baby or was expecting one!” Also wanted to mention I love that series so much and often reread my favorite ones.
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Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader
bro this takes me baaaack😭
this prank definitely hits home for young dadrry, and zayn and louis definitely know that when they decide to pull the prank on the rest of the boys. poor baby h is just like wtf and grumpy afterwards. y/n just finds it hilarious:
"It's not funny."
Y/n, who held little Simone in her arms in their hotel room, tried not to laugh at her boyfriend, who was clearly annoyed at his friends' antics. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just—"
"What?"
"Did you really do the breathing exercises with her?"
Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, and this time Y/n did laugh.
It wasn't often that Harry got all pouty like this, and when he did, Y/n found it adorable. When she heard about the prank Louis and Zayn pulled, she wasn't surprised by the role Harry played in all of it. Of course he jumped into action when he thought a woman was going to labor. And of course he'd do everything he could to make the woman comfortable. Harry and Y/n had had a couple false labors before she eventually gave birth, and he was the one to help her breathe through her contractions and held her when every sitting position was uncomfortable.
"H, come here and hold your daughter. It'll make you feel better," Y/n said when her laughter subsided. Simone, who was playing with a strand of Y/n's hair, blinked at her parents innocently.
Harry, who could never resist holding Simone, softened a bit and stepped closer. The baby instinctively held out her little arms toward him, which melted any remaining embarrassment from his day. "Hi, baby," he cooed, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. "Missed you today. What did you and Mummy get up to while I was gone?"
"Well, we went for a walk on the beach, then we did a little shopping had some lunch at a cute little cafe, then we had to come back to the hotel because someone decided to spill their food all over themselves, and it was not me."
"Messy girl," Harry said, kissing his baby's cheek. "But thanks to you, I was ready to assist a woman in labor at a moment's notice, prank or not. Some might even say I was heroic."
Y/n rolled her eyes while Harry wasn't looking. "Yeah? And what does that make me for actually going into labor?"
"Babe, I was literally prepared to deliver a baby today."
"You almost fainted in the delivery room when I had Simone!"
"I've...matured since then," Harry said, a blush creeping up his cheeks.
That was a story Harry would take to his grave. The boys would give him hell if they found out, not that they would fare much better. He never actually passed out, but he did have to sit down at some point during the delivery. Let's just say it was something he would never forget.
For many reasons.
"Whatever you say, lover," Y/n mused, patting his cheek before heading into the bathroom for a shower.
"It did take me back," Harry said quietly a few hours later. Simone was asleep on his chest, and he didn't have the heart to move her into her crib. He was technically supposed to be in his own room soon, but he would sneak back in tomorrow morning before anyone from management noticed, and the boys would cover for him if they did.
Y/n, who laid beside him on the small hotel bed, brushed his hair away from his face. "I bet. Can you believe it's only been a few months?"
"It's already been a few months," Harry corrected, his hand soothing over Simone's back. There was a time when his hand covered her entire back; she was so small, and Harry was scared he might hurt her because of how delicate she was. And now it felt like she was growing too fast. He and Y/n could barely keep up with her as she grew out of her infant clothes. "Soon she'll be sitting up and crawling, then walking and talking, then going to college and getting into trouble."
"I think you missed a couple steps there," Y/n mused. "But yeah, I know what you mean."
"I'm scared I'm gonna miss all of it. Today reminded me that I wasn't even there to take you to the hospital when you went into labor. My mum had to drive you."
"But you were there when she was born, H," she reminded him. "You held my hand, you didn't complain when I squeezed it too tight. You got to cut the umbilical chord. And you'll be there for all the other milestones too. You're here. I gave you a choice a long time ago, and you chose us. Don't forget that."
"I suppose," Harry relented. He turned his head to the side to look at Y/n, careful not to move too much in case he woke up Simone. "I love you."
Y/n kissed him, cuddling into his side when she pulled away. "I love you too. Now, if you're up for it, I've thought of some ways to get back at Louis and Zayn."
Harry grinned. "I'm all ears."
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poppyberry · 7 days ago
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See, the wild cards are NOT unbalanced. I reject that notion very very strongly. It's complete nonsense to me. If anything, the wild cards have so far all been extraordinarily fair and not biased towards players with any particular skillset. What is causing a massive difference in lives between players in something else entirely.
To start with, the first one? Obviously not biased to any particular skill.
The hunger? What, you're going to argue some players are better at eating than others? Better at resource management, maybe, but with the edible food changing at random all the time, I really don't see how anyone's skills gave them a leg up. Skill is a factor in surviving mobs, not the wild card: if anything, players with less skill could have used the various food-given buffs to their advantage in a fight with good planning.
The snails? There's no skill required to survive them. Nobody died from lack of skill. No particular fighting or parkour ability was needed to escape them.
So why is there such a drastic difference between players' ability to survive? It all comes down to their individual personalities, and how each of them tackles an unexpected problem being presented to them. Some of them panic, others remain calm. Many make the lethal mistake of trying to beat the wild card instead of using it, and that's when they die.
Many of the deaths in the third session happened because players were trying to find a way to trap or destroy the snails, instead of accepting and embracing the mechanic like they should. Once the initial shock wears off, it becomes abundantly clear that the wild cards are intended to be tools.
The size-changing had incredible potential in PVP and resource gathering, but it was just an intro: just a simple mechanic that was easy and quick to get a grasp of.
The food one gave players practically infinite options for making the game easier for themselves. You can fly. You can get all sorts of buffs. Grian himself even gives away the game when he tries to rally Mumbo and Skizz to use the various buffs for mining; that was probably his original intention for how the wild card should be used. Grian deliberately used this session for resource gathering; in fact, I'd say the second wild card encouraged players to gather as many resources as possible in the early game, because you don't know what will be useful on the next reroll (or for future wild cards).
The snails provided new ways to steal lives from players without engaging in pvp; that's why Grian immediately states killing via snail is allowed and encouraged, and even reveals he has his own ideas of how players should go about it. It's clearly part of why the drowning mechanic exists as well; you could drown another player's snail, or force them into having to save their snail from drowning and then dying to it, like what happened to BDubs.
However, some players, such as Tango and Impulse, are naturally the type to try and beat an unbeatable mechanic, and got hyper focused on experimenting to find ways to permanently beat their own snails, and became easy prey. You can't beat the wild card, but they couldn't help but try because that's who they are.
Meanwhile, some players think just as inventively, but from the opposite direction: rather than just wonder how to beat the mechanic, they think about how they can use it to their advantage: Etho (and Martyn) got closest to Grian's intention of the snails essentially being used as assassins. If anything, Etho's invisibility plan improved upon Grian's original vision. They still died due to being occasionally caught off guard, but fared better than those that got stuck on trying to get rid of the snails.
Lizzie, Cleo, Scott, Gem and Joel (and BigB, after his initial ambush death) of course all survived their snails by adapting to the wild card. The difference between them and Etho and Martyn is their lack of risk taking; while Etho and Martyn went running around in the Nether for assassination supplies, all of the still dark greens played really, really safe.
Meanwhile, some players, such as Skizz, Scar, and Jimmy, played it very unsafe, but failed to take advantage of how the snails were meant to be used, even when Grian was trying to spell it out for them, and struggled because of it.
TLDR: the wild cards are weapons and should be treated as such. Trying to circumvent them is what is killing the players so fast, not any inherent imbalance in the cards themselves. Every single one of the players* has equal opportunity to use the cards to their own advantage. It's just a question of whether someone will.
*besides Grian, who is not trying to win anyway
Most importantly, I’m glad the lifers are having fun, and Wild Life has been a blast so far.
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koqabear · 1 year ago
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Wish Me Luck?
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♫: Wake Up In The Sky, Bruno Mars
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“In which working with these two makes your life impossible— because they’re annoying, and won’t leave you alone— you try your best to ignore them but sometimes, it’s too tempting.”
hueningkai x fem!reader x taehyun
Genre: pwp, rockstar au, makeup artist!reader, smut
Word count: 6.2K
Warnings: genuinely like.. none, i think. 
Smut Warnings: dom!tae, dom!huening, sub!mc, threesome, unprotected sex, they’re both pervs sorry, use of mirrors(?), pet names (pretty, doll, cutie, etc.) dry humping, slight marking, handjob, fingering, hair pulling, spanking, praise, masturbation, slight exhibitionism?, multiple orgasms, creampie(s), lmk if i should add anything!
Notes: part of a rockstar!txt mini series. lowkey gave up on formatting so if shows don’t tell me. anyways! happy birthday to my bf huening 😁 again this was like… barely edited so it’s a little uhh… idk. enjoy, hopefully..
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There are many perks that come with the rockstar lifestyle— money, clothes, fame, women.
Taehyun tries to take advantage of it all— and he has, though he finds that the last perk is reserved for someone more… special. 
Taehyun is currently in his favorite place to be before a concert— the makeup station, of course. This could mean many things for him; a chance for him to rest, a relaxing time to get his hair and makeup done, able to get perfectly dolled up just for him to ruin it all during his shows. 
But that’s not the reasoning at all— rather, his reasoning lies with the pretty makeup artist who, unfortunately, is not tending to him today. 
It takes a bit of enjoyment out of the experience— however, he will say that he’s not complaining about the view he’s getting now, watching the way you tend to Kai and touch his face as though he’s made of glass with a fond smile; before he can control himself, his eyes fall to the cute skirt you’re wearing today, a tug of guilt hitting his stomach at the way he feels slightly disappointed upon the realization that they have built-in safety shorts— what can he say? It was always a total accident when he looked over to you bent over, pretty ass on display as you worked diligently on the member assigned. 
Hueningkai, Taehyun notices, definitely isn’t faring well with your proximity to him. Unlike Taehyun, who’s always dying to get his hands on you and keep you to himself, Hueningkai has always preferred to watch from a distance— so to have you here, taking over his senses with the alluring perfume you use and feeling your delicate fingers brush against his skin as you do his makeup— well, safe to say Hueningkai is practically meditating to not pop a boner then and there. 
“___, have you been busy? I barely see you around anymore,” Taehyun asks, peeking up from his phone and over to the next chair where you continue to meddle with Hueningkai, standing back to observe your work before you’re jumping at the sound of your name. 
“Well, I’ve been assigned to the rookie group the company debuted, you know,” you sigh out, having had this conversation more times than you can remember as you reach to brush away a stray hair from Hueningkai’s forehead; you watch as his eyes flutter shut and his brows twitch, and you wonder if you may have irritated him as you press your lips together. 
“That’s unfair…” Taehyun pouts softly, pretending as though his phone is much more interesting as he continues to sneak glances at you, eyes darkening at how cute you look while concentrating, not paying attention to Taehyun’s words as you begin applying lip tint to Hueningkai, “They’re taking my makeup artist away from me, I don’t like this one bit.”
“I’m not your makeup artist,” you fuss, sighing in exasperation as you take a step back from Hueningkai; you tell him to open his eyes as you take in the final result, smiling softly in satisfaction as you observe your work on him— looking at Taehyun, you cross your arms, frowning at the way you catch him staring at you already, “I’m the company’s makeup artist. Who I get assigned to work on is entirely up to them, so I don’t get why you’re acting like this right now.”
“Is it wrong to want a pretty girl to do my makeup?” He asks, and your face twists as you watch his current makeup artist throw an incredulous glance your way— just as you’re about to turn and leave, you’re surprised to find Hueningkai grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him. 
“My hair,” he mumbles quietly, so soft you almost missed it— you lean down to try and hear him better, unaware of the way his eyes dart down to your low neckline and your lips that pout in concentration, “Can you fix it? It’s… different now.”
As far as you’re concerned, he looks completely fine; you’re quick to tell him that as well, only to see as he insists that it was different before you worked on his makeup. 
“Well if you want, I can go get your hairdresser—“ you begin, only to stop short at the feeling of Hueningkai’s grip tightening slightly. 
“But you can do it, no?”
God, these two were impossible. 
Their behavior was nothing new to you, and you oftentimes found yourself the victim of teasing as your coworkers poked fun at the way the two seemed to be attached to you like lost puppies— you always tried to refute such claims, but the way they constantly wanted you around them really didn’t help. 
“You can do it, ___,” Taehyun says, and you feel a bit bad for his makeup artist as he moves to look at you, “Gives us an excuse to keep you here a bit longer.”
Out of the two, Taehyun is much more blunt— but that doesn’t mean you’re used to it, feeling your face grow hot at his words as you attempt once more to run away— it’s all in vain of course, because Hueningkai is tugging you back and giving you a look that almost makes your knees buckle.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this.
“Please.”
Nothing about that is a request. He looks up at you with lidded, dazed eyes, and you find yourself complying hesitantly the longer he looks at you like he’ll devour you any second. You don’t even know what he wants his hair to look like— so you go with his usual ruffled look, his long dark hair soft under your fingers as you stand in front of him and run through the locks with mousse. 
You try to keep a straight face the whole time; even when Taehyun continues to make baiting comments at you, complimenting you with a deep purr as he tries to get your attention back on him— even as you feel the way Hueningkai can’t take his eyes off you, much bolder than usual as you bite your lip and hover over him, quick hands desperate to finish his styling. 
Your hands freeze in his hair as you feel something warm on the back of your thigh. 
That something warm serves as Hueningkai’s hand, resting on your skin as he simply continues to look up at you innocently, chewing his gum and tilting his head as though to ask what’s wrong? 
You try to contain the shiver that runs through you as his thumb begins to softly caress your skin, venturing under the cloth of your safety shorts for a moment before he’s moving it back down.
“Something wrong?” Taehyun drawls out, and a glance at him shows that his makeup artist has left— it’s just you three, and your brows knit together as you take in the way his makeup isn’t done yet, “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
You’re shaken out of your reverie at his words; putting the finishing touches, you step away from Hueningkai, feeling the way his hand is reluctant to leave your skin, his arm falling limply at his side as he stares at you with hungry curiosity. 
“I think I’m done here,” you breathe out, attempting to hide your shaky hands as you place them behind your back, “Make sure you’re changed and ready in time for the show.”
Bowing politely, you make your way to the exit— only to be stopped the moment you pass Taehyun, an exasperated sound leaving you involuntarily as he takes your hand and tugs you back to him. 
“Are you done?” he asks, sparkly eyes not enough to conceal his mischief as he tilts his head to the side, “There’s nothing missing here?”
Of course something is missing. Taehyun doesn’t have his lip tint on, but you refuse to point it out as you hum softly, pretending to be in thought for a second before you finally shake your head no.
“No?” he pouts— he’s then puckering his lips, nodding his head toward you and sending you a kiss as he smiles coyly, “Are you sure?”
“You seem to be missing…” you grit out, watching as he raises his brows expectantly, as though encouraging you to finish your train of thought, “Your lip…tint.”
“Oh. You think so?” he asks, looking back at the mirror and swiping a finger across his lips before he hums, “Could you do it for me, please? I’ve always loved how you left my lips all pretty.”
You’re inhaling slowly to not turn on your heels and run away— not because you don’t want to do your job, but because you’re anxious about what might happen if you’re left alone in a room with these two for a moment longer; all you know is that if the way they look at you serves as any indicator, then they’re definitely up to no good.
“My lips always look like candy with the combo you use,” he continues, watching as you go to the vanity to search for the products you usually use for him— after a moment, you’re turning to him, products in one hand a small lip brush in the other— your eyes meet his, and you’re slightly startled with the way he suddenly leans forward, eerily close to you as his eyes flicker down to the way your lips part in a silent gasp, “Don’t you think so?”
“I’ve never thought of it like that,” you mutter swiftly, immediately getting to work in hopes that Taehyun can just shut up for once— he does, but you’re still left at the mercy of his intense stare, trying to pretend as though his proximity isn’t enough to make you feel nervous.
“You look really pretty today ___,” It’s Hueningkai’s turn to torment you— if you weren’t so focused on Taehyun, you would’ve scoffed, opting instead to let out a noncommittal hum instead. 
“Are you doing anything after the show?”
He says that as you’re finally stepping away from Taehyun; silently, you’re happy for the timing of his words, because you know that you would’ve messed up Taehyun’s makeup from your surprise— which would’ve meant you staying longer to fix it. 
“No,” you say, refusing to elaborate even if their curious stares silently plead you to— turning around, you continue to ignore them as you put your stuff away, pretending as though you weren’t rushing in hopes to leave quicker. 
“Taehyun and I are going out for drinks after to celebrate the end of the tour,” He says quietly, and you make the mistake of looking up at him through the mirror— he’s looking at you of course, though the way his dark makeup only makes his eyes look more intense doesn’t help you at all— softly, he smiles. 
“You should come with. Our treat.”
“Oh, I— I don’t know, I don’t wanna be a bother,” you stutter out, your nonchalant demeanor beginning to slip the moment you see them stand up behind you, shaky hands rushing to zip your makeup case shut, “I should really get going now, you two still need to change—“
“Yeah, but what’s the rush?” You’re fucking trapped— they stand on either side of you, looming dangerously and looking at you as though you’re nothing but a treat for them to devour— you can feel their breaths fanning on each side of your neck as you attempt to close yourself off pathetically, trying to take a step back before you feel two hands on you— one on the small of your back, the other on your hip as they both push you back against the vanity; the startled yelp you let out is embarrassing, your hands flying down to support yourself from how firmly they push you forward. 
“We have well over an hour to finish getting ready,” Taehyun breathes out, lips brushing against your jaw as he lets out a soft sigh, “And that’s a lot of time, isn’t it?”
Hueningkai hums in agreement; his hand is the one on your hip as it rubs soothing circles, leaning down to where you hang your head and sending you a misleading smile.
“We should do something to pass the time.”
God, were they always this close? They’re filling your senses and making you dizzy, your hands beginning to ache from how hard you’re gripping the edge of the vanity as you simply gulp in response. Their lips are soft and fucking sticky from the gloss you just put on them, leaving kiss marks along your skin as they kiss you softly, mumbling compliments and praise that you can barely get through your head from how dizzy you feel. 
“Do you know that we try to request you for every show?” Taehyun asks, watching the way your eyes flutter shut as Hueningkai begins to trail kisses down your neck, open-mouthed and sultry as he nips at your skin teasingly, “Some bullshit about you knowing our complexion best— don’t get us wrong, you do, but…”
“You’re like a lucky charm,” Hueningkai finishes for him, pulling away and bringing a hand up to grab at your chin, tilting you to look at him as he stares at you with lidded eyes, “The show won’t go well if our pretty makeup artist isn’t here with us.”
You whimper— and shit, it’s humiliating, your cheeks growing hot immediately after as you wish nothing more than to dig a hole for yourself then and there— but oh, their words are so hypnotizing to you, speaking about you like you’re something they can’t live without, touching you like they’re starved and desperate to get a taste.
And judging by the way they look at you, they definitely are. 
“Sometimes… we wonder if it’s enough, just getting a look at you before we go on stage,” Hueningkai says, and it’s Taehyun’s turn to nod along and leave teasing touches, his hand playing with the hem of your shirt as he noses at your throat, taking in your scent with a satisfied sigh.
“I think it’d be nice if you wished us luck tonight,” Hueningkai says, tilting his head as he gives you a puppy-eyed look, “Don’t you wanna?”
Fuck. You can’t think straight, not when they’re taking up your space, unable to keep their hands and lips off you as they wait not-so-innocently for your response. Shutting your eyes, you try to move past the warm and welcoming feeling of their hands to think.
“This is dangerous,” you finally spit out, biting your lip at the way they immediately back off, “You could get in trouble— I could lose my job.”
“Oh please,” Taehyun scoffs, sitting back against the vanity as he crosses his arms, “The company doesn’t care about what we do in our private life— you’ve seen the way the others can get with their little groupies, right?”
You mull over his words for a second; it’s no secret that this band is very active and reckless, though you suppose the company has taken advantage of that and began to use it as their image halfway through their career— at least, that must be the case if they’re able to advance on you so boldly, the rest of your coworkers unfazed by the whole situation. 
“But— my job—?”
“You think none of these other people that work here haven’t fooled around with their groups?” Taehyun asks, the incredulous smile on his face quickly turning to a pout as he coos at the innocent, wide-eyed look you give him, “They know how to keep a secret, pretty— so do we.”
This is ridiculous— even more so because you find yourself considering it, quickly shaking your head upon the sobering realization— though, the two are keen to notice the way you have yet to try and scurry away from them like always. 
“Don’t you feel tired of being so uptight all the time?” Huening asks, your head snapping up to watch as he places his hands on your shoulders, hovering behind you as he massages them gently, “We could help you relax. Have some fun, even.”
The two try to keep it cool the moment you lean into Hueningkai’s touch— though, you can still pick up on the way Taehyun’s eyes widen and Hueningkai’s hands freeze for just a second, your eyes threatening to shut from the way you remain too shy to gauge their reactions. 
“Won’t someone come in?”
In response, they laugh— poor thing, they think, glancing back at the door that got locked long ago, if they were finally going to get their hands on you, the last thing they would do is allow someone else to see. 
“No one will come in right now— we’re supposed to be changing, aren’t we?” Hueningkai says, smiling against your skin as he continues, “It’d be an invasion of privacy to try and come in now.”
They grin at the way you remain silent, clearly lost in thought by their words.
“Want us to treat you good?” Taehyun asks, placing a hand on your waist before he’s leaning in, his lips brushing against yours as he lets out a shaky breath, “Thank you for your hard work?”
Finally you break. 
“Please.”
Taehyun is a messy kisser— though, you don’t find yourself to be too surprised, always more eager out of the two to get his hands on you as he begins to kiss you with abandon— his hand cupping your jaw to keep you close, tongue prodding your mouth open and sharp teeth sinking into your plush lips teasingly; behind you, Hueningkai has moved his hands to your hips, pulling you back and forcing your back to arch as you feel him begin to rut his cock into you slowly, dark eyes taking in the way you only whine and moan under their touch. 
“Fuck, let me use those pretty hands, baby,” Taehyun sighs against your lips, guiding you down to his hard bulge and smiling against your lips the moment you begin to palm him; you’re slow and unsure with your movements, but that only makes Taehyun needier as he begins to rut his length against your palm, eager to get stimulation as he places his hand on top of yours to guide you to hold him through his sweats.
“Is playing hard to get fun for you?” Hueningkai asks, his voice low and rough as he plays with the hem of your shorts, pulling at the waistband before letting it go and allowing it to snap against your skin, “I can feel you soaking through your shorts— so fucking needy, why have you been avoiding us so long?”
You don’t have half the brain to answer that question; not when Taehyun has slipped your hand under his sweats and Hueningkai currently pulls down your skirt, leaving you exposed as you hold Taehyun’s cock and allow him to fuck into your first with shaky breaths against your lips. 
Trying to avoid them was such a stupid decision— because if it meant you could have these two boys like this sooner, drunk off your touch and desperate to take even more from you, you would’ve given in to their cheeky comments and shameless flirting long ago. 
Hueningkai’s fingers are slender and long as they glide up and down your slit; pressing against your panties, taking in the way you’ve soaked through them with a deep satisfaction as he lets out a breathy laugh. His middle and ring finger press at your entrance, listening to the way you whine and almost letting out a groan at the way you wiggle your hips and press them back in hopes of feeling him inside you. 
“Waited so long for this,” Hueningkai breathes out, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulling them down sloowwly, watching as you whine impatiently before you’re stepping out of your garments— You pull away from Taehyun, staring down at the way he bucks into your fist and missing the way he bites his lip to suppress a laugh at the sight of Hueningkai pocketing your soaked panties. 
“Wanted to fuck you the moment you got assigned to us— our pretty makeup artist,” Hueningkai sighs, placing a kiss in between your shoulder blades before he’s fucking his fingers into you, jaw clenching at the way you suck in his fingers and tighten around him pathetically, the wet sounds that come from his shallow thrusts enough to have your head hanging with pleasure. 
“Do you…” you sigh, letting out a soft whine as Taehyun takes a handful of your hair and forces your head back up, clearing your throat in a weak attempt to continue as the said man now begins to kiss and suck softly at your neck, careful to not leave any marks, “Do this to… fuck, every crew member you think is attractive? Mess with them shamelessly and try to corner them so you can finally fuck them? …Hmm?”
Hueningkai’s index finger is tracing your entrance teasingly— he laughs softly at your comment, choosing not to say anything as he stretches you out with a third finger instead; he’s curling his fingers and grinding his hand into your cunt, taking in your expression with hungry eyes and noting the places that make your legs shake. 
“You think we do this to just anyone?” Taehyun asks, brows furrowed as he pulls away, taking in the way you wince at his appearance— more specifically, his lip tint that has smudged all over his lips and chin and onto your skin, “Baby, I hope you realize that you’re the first person we’ve ever pulled this shit on.”
“And the last,” Hueningkai chimes in, looming over your shoulder as he bites at your earlobe teasingly, his other hand circling your waist to rub at your clit, “We plan to keep you.”
God. You hope he didn’t notice the way you clenched pathetically from his words, but judging by the way he laughs breathily and fucks his fingers harder into you, he definitely did. 
“Shit, what aren’t these hands good for?” Taehyun asks, watching the way you pump along his length and reach up to swipe the precum that leaks from his tip, spreading it along the rest of his length as you watch the way your hand glistens and becomes messy from your actions, “You have no idea how much I thought about this— always felt so guilty watching as you did my makeup so innocently, unaware that I’d give up my job if it meant I could— I could bend you over this vanity and fuck you good.”
“Did you ever fantasize about us?” Hueningkai teases, only to be surprised by the way you nod your head frantically, eyes shutting from embarrassment as you grind your hips back into him, just to get a feel of his cock against your ass, “Yeah? What’d you think about? Maybe we could make it happen.”
You shake your head no— you’re reluctant to spew out your fantasies as easily as the two are, but that only proves to be a mistake from the way Hueningkai’s fingers slip out of you, instead landing down harshly on your ass as you jump at the sudden feeling. 
“What, too shy to tell us?” Taehyun asks, placing a hand on top of your own and making you slow to a stop as he examines your face, “Then again, you’ve always been a shy little thing— it’s your charm, you know.”
You can only let out a pathetic whimper at that; Taehyun is shaking your hand off him, your eyes fluttering open as you watch him tuck himself back in, giving you a sly smile before he’s sitting back down in his chair— Hueningkai is taking a step back, but it’s only to bend you over as he lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction— nodding to Hueningkai, Taehyun grins, his dimple poking at his cheek as he speaks.
“You first, Kai? I’ll give you the honors for being so patient.”
Your mouth is falling open the moment you feel his tip glide along your entrance— going up and down, clearly teasing you as he allows your wetness to collect on his dick, forcing you to listen to the sounds as you let out a shaky sigh, staring down at the vanity and your tense hands that are curled into fists— slowly, he begins to push into you, enjoying the way you bite your lip in an attempt to muffle your sounds, failing to do so as Hueningkai resorts to the next best thing— his hand is firm against your mouth as he holds your head up, your eyes meeting his through the mirror as you watch him begin to fuck you slowly.
The stretch has you blinking away tears of pleasure— if it weren’t for Hueningkai keeping you quiet, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the attention of the rest of the crew, your sounds muffled against the palm of his hand as your body begins to jolt forward from his pace, the vanity shaking slightly from the impact. 
“Fuck,” Hueningkai grunts, brows furrowed together as he watches himself disappear inside you, “So perfect. Pussy was made for me, look how good you take it.”
The two only laugh as you let out a weak whine at the praise— they’ve got you figured out good, and you’re meeting Taehyun’s gaze through the mirror as you catch him staring at you, stroking his cock at a slow pace as he simply gives you a teasing grin.
“Why don’t you watch the way Huening fucks you, pretty?” He asks, and your eyes flicker back to the sight he’s talking about, meeting Huenigkai’s eyes as he simply sends you a coy smile, “You look so perfect like this— bent over the desk like a pretty doll, perfect for us to use… isn’t that right?”
Before you can moan out a muffled response, a sharp knock on the door takes your attention; you’re jolting to try and get Huening off you in a hurry, but the boy merely retaliates by pulling you back against him, colliding against his chest and letting out a weak whimper at the feeling of him rutting his hips up into you— watch, he growls into your ear, grinning with satisfaction as you immediately follow his orders.
“Yeah?” Taehyun calls out, his tone much too casual for someone who’s watching his fellow band member fuck the cute staff member the two have been pining for. 
“Have you seen ___ anywhere? The makeup artist?” It’s Soobin, you all realize, your reaction of horror greatly contrasting the way the two merely smile casually at the realization, “They’ve been looking for her, and I thought you two would know where she might be.”
“Uhhhhm…” Taehyun draws out, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he watches the way Hueningkai continues to fuck you, fingers digging into your cheeks as his eyes widen at the way you’ve begun to squirm from his grip, your orgasm approaching as you try to grind your hips in search for more stimulation. 
“If we knew where she was at, we’d probably be there bothering her,” Taehyun jokes, a crooked smile on his face as he listens to the way Soobin scoffs on the other side, “But seriously, we’re changing right now. She finished our makeup a while ago, we haven’t seen her.”
A moment passes; you think you might explode from how hard you’re trying to hold back your orgasm, but Hueningkai seems to be hellbent on making you cum from the way his free hand goes to circle your clit, your mouth falling open as you practically shake from the feeling. 
“Well…” another pause— Soobin sighs, and Taehyun can already picture the man running a hand through his hair on the other side of the door, “Let me know if you find her.”
After a moment, his footsteps fade entirely— it’s only then that Hueningkai bends you over once more, grabbing your hips and using this as leverage to fuck you back into him as you whimper that you’re close— seconds after, you’re squeezing Hueningkai so hard he thinks his cock might slip out, fucking you through your orgasm as your legs simply tremble from the intensity of it all. 
“Did that get you off, baby?” Hueningkai murmurs, his hips beginning to stutter as he watches you lay against the desk, your cheek pressed against the wood as you only let out weak whines in response, “Knowing we were about to get caught? Is that what made you cum, cutie?”
In a pathetic attempt to dodge his question, you bury your head in your arms— the man behind you simply laughs, pressing on the small of your back and grinding into you slowly, biting his lip at the sight. 
“Want me to cum inside? Fill you up and have it leak down your legs, making people wonder just where you disappeared to for so long?” frantically, you nod; you’re pressing your ass back against him, trying to fuck back into him as Hueningkai only groans at the sight— moments later, you’re practically biting through your lip from the feeling of him filling you up so well, trying his best to fuck his cum back into you the moment it begins to drip back out. 
A moment passes where the two of you simply remain still, attempting to regain your breaths— then, you hear sounds of shuffling and footsteps, and you’re meekly raising your head from your arms to watch as Taehyun approaches the two of you with a teasing smile.
“You should go get cleaned up and change,” Taehyun says, tapping your ass with a smile, “It’s my turn now, isn’t that right baby?”
Hueningkai rolls his eyes at the other’s antics— then, he’s slowly pulling out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s grabbing your face and bringing you up for a kiss— it’s slow and sensual, his plump lips addicting as he sneaks his tongue in for a taste of you— he’s reluctant to pull away, and only does so when you grip his shirt in your hands weakly and whine petulantly in his mouth— pulling away, he’s sending you a soft smile, taking in the sight of your shining and swollen lips before he’s telling you I’ll be right back— Taehyun rolls his eyes at his words. 
“Tell me,” Taehyun begins, bending you over once more and keeping his head next to yours, encouraging you to hold eye contact with him as he smiles softly— his index and middle finger are slowly massaging up and down your slit, and you let out a weak whimper at the feeling of him gathering the cum that’s leaking out of you before he’s pushing it back in slowly, “What would you fantasize about? I’d love to try it out on you.”
He won’t do anything until he hears your confession— a sign that you really did want them all along, forcing himself to tease you instead as he takes in the way you begin to break slowly, your hips attempting to chase pleasure, only to be stopped by Taehyun’s firm grip on your hip. 
“I could do so many things to you,” he mutters softly, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder before he continues, “All you have to do is tell me.”
Fuck, where do you even begin? All the things you’ve ever thought about these two boys were reserved for the dark hours of the night when you couldn’t control your wandering mind, never to be revealed as you always told yourself you’d take this attraction to your grave— but now, as you feel Taehyun’s fingertips continuously dip into your entrance teasingly, able to feel the way some of Hueningkai’s cum has already run down your thighs, you really can’t be blamed for the way Taehyun’s sparkling doe eyes are able to extract the words from you without a second thought.
“Thought of riding you while I did your makeup,” you whimpered out pathetically, the confession enough to make your face feel like it was on fire— Taehyun, however, thinks the image might just make him cum on the spot, so he doesn’t have it in him to be apologetic as he quickly guides you back to his makeup chair and makes you hover over him.
“Well? What’re you waiting for?” He asks breathlessly, straddling his lap and staring down at him with wide eyes as he keeps his hands on your waist, having yet to find release as he feels his cock straining painfully against his sweats, “Now’s your chance, cutie.”
You stare at Taehyun— at his smudged makeup, his flushed cheeks, and his eyes that are blown open with need— and nod meekly, your hand reaching to take him out before you’re lining him up with your entrance, brows furrowing slightly as you properly take in his size.
That does little to hinder you; the way you sink on Taehyun is fucking painfully slow, and the said man is cursing in your ear as he feels the way you clench around him, your and Hueningkai’s release already coating his dick and making a mess of the chair as you stare at him with bleary eyes. 
“Don’t you need to fix my makeup?” Taehyun asks, his voice a bit strained from the effort to not pound into you recklessly— cluelessly, you nod, your expression making Taehyun let out a breathy laugh, “Do what you need to— I’ll do all the hard work, pretty thing.”
You’re unsure of what he may mean until he’s nodding back at the makeup case behind you— letting out a soft oh, you reach for your supplies, shaky hands taking what you need before you’re turning back to Taehyun. 
His hands are on the swell of your ass, smiling fondly at you before he begins to buck his hips up into you— softly at first, giving you the illusion that he’ll actually let you work, then becoming rougher as he watches the way your expression breaks, coherence leaving your eyes as you simply look at him with bleary, clueless eyes— your actions are oh so slow as you try to touch up on his makeup, trying your best to not make things worse than they already are— but the task seems to be impossible with the way Taehyun fucks you, biting his lip and guiding your hips up and down to get you to ride him as well, already noticing a second orgasm building up from the way you help him out eagerly. 
“Tyun,” you whimper out, makeup supplies in your fists as you place them firmly on his chest, “This isn’t working— I can’t… ah…!”
You’re interrupted mid-sentence as you’re finally coming undone on top of him— the makeup supplies in your hands dig into your skin from how hard you grip onto them, a weak, choked moan escaping you as Taehyun only continues to fuck you through it, not slowing down even after you’ve ridden out your high, going back to whining that you can’t do it, it’s too hard— too much.
“Yes you can,” he grins, taking in the way you only shake your head with satisfaction, “Okay then, can you hold out until I cum then? Can you be good for me, pretty girl?”
You don’t hesitate to nod at that; it has Taehyun laughing before it’s choked off into a moan, finally able to use you to his liking as he begins to fuck you rougher— shit… you hear him groan, and one look at him is enough to tell you that he’s staring at the sight in the mirror behind you— taking in how pretty you look as you bounce on his cock, hands desperately holding onto him as you tuck your head into his shoulder— The feeling of your lips sucking absentmindedly at his skin is enough to set him off, bottoming out inside you and groaning at the way his cum spurts inside you, barely able to stay in from how full you already are. 
Gradually, his pace slows down to nothing but a slow grind— you’re attempting to regain your breath once you finally sit up, still perched prettily on his cock as you begin to touch up his makeup with shaky hands. 
“Hmm? That’s unfair,” Hueningkai’s sudden voice has your head snapping up, looking to where he stands as he taps a finger at his collarbone, “Why didn’t I get one of those?”
Your eyes widen as you’re turning back to Taehyun at break-neck speed— sure enough, you’ve left a mark, and you can already feel your stomach sinking at the thought of having to cover that up. 
“Relax, our outfits are pretty covered,” Taehyun scoffs, reading your expression with a playful roll of his eyes, “But I wouldn’t really mind having others see it.”
“No fair, can I get one?” Hueningkai pouts, even more so when you deny him shyly, focusing on your task and pretending as though you’re currently not sitting firmly on Taehyun’s cock with both their cum leaking out of you.
“Baby,” Hueningkai calls out softly, making you turn your head as he captures you in another kiss— it’s even messier than last time, which you really didn’t think was possible as you’re left panting for breath once he pulls away, your eyes widening at the lopsided grin he sends you. 
“Fix my makeup next?”
Fuck, they’ll miss their damn show at this point. 
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eccentricallygothic · 2 months ago
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Psycho Husband!Steve Rogers who is a crazed coercive bastard.
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Warning(s): Noncon, misogyny/sexism, depraved housewife kink, head shaving/hair cutting, he's a mental mf who thinks he is only doing what's best for you; cruel punishments are care and better sense according to him, age gap, fear kink, infantilization, humiliation, size kink. MDNI. 
. . .
You meekly sit atop your husband, Steve Rogers' lap as he feeds himself and you the dinner you meticulously prepared for him as he cares greatly for detail and perfection. 
The older man hums with each bite, one large paw caressing your back from over the thin -nearly sheer- material of one of the many dresses that make up the entirety of your wardrobe. 
“Absolutely delicious, baby, good job” he has been praising you with each bite and so you cannot help but smile at the compliments, your smaller body resting against his as you gently comb his hair with your fingers.
This is good.
Him being pleased is good.
“Thank you, my heart” you kiss his cheek that he had shaved just this morning when you were on your knees getting rid of his morning wood. He usually does that at night but you chose to wear a certain dress yesterday that caused for you to remain trapped in bed from the moment he got home till the both of you woke up tangled and sticky.
“See?” Now his fingers silkily glide up the length of your spine, past its dents that appear on your nape and towards your scalp that holds no barriers between your skins. “Wasn't I right?” Steve's fingertips flex all over your shiny head that he keeps empty from any hurdle between yourself and him. “Didn't it make things all better for us, hm?” Your tongue grows heavy and you feel it beginning to swell.
But you must not speak your mind.
For you are not allowed to have one.
“Yes, hubby, you were” you feel him stroke the bald crown of your head and the feeling of his coarse skin rubbing your soft and moisturized one sends shivers down your spine. 
His dark but relaxed blue eyes watch you, outwardly friendly but secretly inspecting you closely for the tiniest slip up. “Just too stupid to see it back then, weren't you?”
You nod nervously, offering him a smile as you avert your gaze from his, choosing to awkwardly play with his dress shirt instead. “Yes, hubby, I was.” Before you look up momentarily. He hates it when you don't look at him while speaking. “Thank you for teaching me better.” 
“And what did I teach you?” You bite your tongue, his words scalding your ears. 
Of course, he wants you to say it.
It is a routine that he likes to do every night. 
“That you are always right because you know better.” You resist the urge to cringe from how he suddenly gives you a burst of praise head rubs. 
It is a trap, meant to set you off.
He knows you don't like his hand rubbing your bald head like you're some kind of an animal and he still does it.
You've made the mistake of fighting back one too many times in the past.
But now you know it never fares well for you.
So better to just obey.
“Yeah?” His eyes begin to dance all over your form in that lewd fashion of theirs. “And how did I teach you that?” This is nothing new, and yet your heart drops.
“You taught me by…” Your face becomes hot from the embarrassment and humiliation. “B- By…” Fuck.
Even after all this time, it's no easier to do it. 
“By?” You can feel his sick arousal poke into the back of your thigh. He shifts to readjust himself. “Know what, honey?” He actually has the gall to sound friendly like he's doing you a favor out of the goodness of his heart. “I'll help your little mind out by giving you a hint.” You cannot hold his gaze anymore. So you drop your eyes and train them on his collars as you whimper into his cheek from how he hugs you closer with the arm he has draped around you. He loves proximity. “It had something to do with a machine and a cute head” his long fingers caress your scalp in circular motions.
Your heart is erratic against his chest. “H–” the whimper you let out is shaky and pathetic. Your expression falters into one of pain but you recover just as fast. At least on the outside. “T- Taught me by shaving my head.”
Steve's smirk is one of pride. “Oh? And what setting did I shave it on? Did I leave anything behind or did you become a complete cueball?” 
Tears sting your eyes from the sensitivity and helplessness as you feel your throat tighten even more. “N- No, hubby. Nothing was left. You shaved it all off…” Closing your eyes momentarily is the only way you can let out your next words. “Until I was a cueball.”
“And why was that, huh, baby?” Now he speaks to you like you're a child. 
He does that when he is horny. 
The realization makes your stomach twist.
“B- Because you warned me many times but—” your voice breaks and you softly sob into his cheek all of a sudden because the memories overwhelm you. “I didn't l- listen and my hair kept getting in the food I would prepare for you.” He somberly cooes and lowers your head forwards in a submissive position to caress the links of your spine.
“Oh, honey. Is that what happened?” Though Steve rests his cheek atop your bald head that he keeps shiny with scented oils and feigns sadness his bulge is too stiff against your tender skin for his little act to hold any weight. 
“Yes, hubby.” Your tears fall on your lap. 
“And how did it happen, huh, darling?” He loves the helplessness of your situation. That has got to be it. “Can you tell me?”
You nod and swallow the bile in your throat. Denial is not an option. “The scary razor went all over my head, hubby” you make yourself sound like a baby because that's what he likes. “Like buzz buzz buzz~” you try to mimic the sound and gesture as you run a pretend trimmer over your naked scalp. 
“Aw, it was scary for your little baby self, was it?” You timidly nod, pouting a little. “That's because you're so small and easily scared, aren't you?” He presses kisses all over your head and pinches your cheek. 
“Yes, hubby.” 
“Aw, my poor girl” he cups your face and lets his thumb trace the shape of your mouth. “I get it, you’re just a baby” he cannot but kiss you deeply before speaking again. 
“But it was necessary, wasn't it? And it worked” it is typical of him to seek validation for his unhinged actions from you, probably helps him sleep easier and pumps his pompousness further. “No more hair in the food.” He smiles and forces you to look at him by tipping your head back.
“No more hair in the food.” You echo him like the hollow doll he has made of you.
“Awww” he chuckles at the dejection in your voice. “Cheer up, silly. You look just as perfect as the first moment I laid my eyes on you” his lips repeatedly peck yours for a few moments. Then he continues. “I am the only one whose opinion matters for you and I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive” he scoops you up in his arms before standing up and you give him a smile like you're supposed to. He leans in to capture it in his own. “The cueball only makes you sexier and more nude for me. So it's a win all around” you whimper into the words he utters against your mouth. “C'mon, hubby will make you feel all better.” He whispers before carrying you to the bedroom. It is impossible not to be aware of your devastation and that is why he offers compensation the way he does. “Yeah?”
All you can do is nod defeatedly.
. . .
If you made it down here, hi you're cool. 
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discoonthegrass · 4 months ago
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Watched The Search for Spock for the first time the other day, and wow this movie is such a tragic love story I’m in awe:
Kirk reflects in his personal log that he feels very uneasy, like a home without the children except even more empty (basically implying that even his “spouse” is gone)
Jim feels that he’s left the noblest part of himself (Spock is a part of him apparently) on the new planet
Sarek automatically assuming that Kirk holds Spock’s katra (why would he assume that if they were just friends)
“Your son meant more to me than you could know. I would’ve given my life if it could’ve saved his.”
Sarek essentially forcing Kirk to relive the worst possible moment of his life, and Kirk tearing up all over again
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Jim saying he has a responsibility to Spock’s eternal soul “as surely as if it was his own” (if this isn’t admitting they’re soulmates idk what is)
Jim directly being told that if he goes through with this, he will never sit in the captain’s chair again which has always been shown as the most important thing to him, yet he completely ignores that and goes to warp speed because now nothing matters more than getting Spock’s soul to its resting place
Even in the middle of an intense confrontation with the Klingons, Jim’s face still betrays his hope and joy after he hears about the “Vulcan scientist [he’s] acquainted with”
Jim BLOWS UP the Enterprise instead of surrendering to the Klingons because he can’t give up on saving Spock now, and barely even mourns since he’s already lost someone more important
Jim demanding that Spock get beamed up and the Klingon captain refusing because he can tell how much Jim wants it/cares for Spock
Jim immediately rushing to Spock’s unconscious body and shielding it with his own, draping Spock’s body over himself in a protective “white knight” stance
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Unlike everyone else, Jim is restless during the fal-tor-pan, wanting to be with Spock but being prevented from doing so and resorting to pacing instead
Jim not even asking about how Bones is faring but immediately wondering about Spock
“I had to do [it]. If I hadn’t tried, the cost would’ve been my soul.”
Sarek even points out that Jim paid with his ship and his son, but Jim genuinely feels it was worth it
Spock, having just been revived, is supposed to leave to get healed but is compelled to turn back — he cannot recognize any of them (not even McCoy who he literally cohabitated in the same body with) except Jim
Spock asking why Jim came back for him, and Jim responding “because the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many” (the reverse of the Vulcan philosophy—he’s saying it was illogical but he needed Spock back and Spock too needed him)
Spock parroting the “I have been and always shall be your friend” line, then finally identifying him as “Jim”
Jim’s face melts into the biggest smile ever seen on his face, even as he’s tearing up from joy
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Suffice to say, I love this movie and will be considering it a romance with a side of action from now on.
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funkyplantguy · 2 months ago
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grian gets saved by hotguy and then pines over him <3
so this "au" (if you can even call it that when it exists exclusively in my brain and now in this ask) is mostly crack and comes from me joking around a couple days ago with some friends so...don't take it too seriously. that being said...
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you have (3) new comments! view now?
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areeongreenday: hey! so this is insane.
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h0tguysnumber0n3fan: i guess i kind of understand where you're coming from with this - scar goodman and hotguy do share a similar sense of humor, and i sort of see what you're saying at 47:03 when you compared their voices (more specifically, the inflection they use on specific words) but...i guess i'm having a hard time imagining scar as a superhero. don't get me wrong - he's plenty cool, but...didn't he say that he's a full-time content creator now? i don't know that he'd really have the time to record, edit, and post videos on top of saving the city on a near-daily basis. interesting theory, though! admire the dedication.
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scargoodman: ;)
and there it was, taunting him - that damn winky face, yet again, commented nearly instantaneously each time grian uploaded a new video about the man itself. scar goodman - known to many as the man who had risen to sudden fame in the video essayist community with his charming good looks and boisterous personality. scar goodman, whom grian suspected was secretly none other than the city's beloved superhero. after all, they'd both made their debuts within a week of each other and shared not only a similar path of success but a similar sense of humor, a similar speaking style, a similar body type, a similar laugh...sure, there were things that didn't quite line up, but...for the most part, they appeared to be the exact same person.
okay - maybe grian was a little obsessed. but what was he supposed to do, not point out the obvious?
what made matters worse was that nobody seemed to believe him. no matter how many videos he posted, no matter how much proof he gave...nobody was willing to hear him out.
nobody except scar goodman himself, who seemed intent to drive him absolutely insane.
grian grumbled something to himself, pocketing his phone and continuing down the long, narrow sidewalk to his apartment complex. he'd lost track of time at work yet again, and as a result, the sun had long set. this wasn't unusual for him - he often opted to remain late in the office to "finish up a few things" (ie take advantage of the functional wifi his workplace offered instead of trying to upload videos on his crummy home network), so he was...fairly comfortable tracing the path back to his apartment in the dark of night. the street lights in this part of town didn't work exceptionally well, but with the familiarity of it all and the dull light of the moon, grian typically fared well enough.
tonight, however...well, call him paranoid, but...something felt...off. something about the way all the buildings around him were dark, indicating that their inhabitants were either asleep or out (and entirely unreachable if grian were to call for help). something about the absence of the various stray cats that he often crossed paths with. something about how the complete and utter silence made his ears ring.
"aw, what's this? a cute guy? well, pretty boy, you've just entered the wrong part of town at the wrong time. unfortunately, loose lips sink ships, or...uh...however the saying goes, so...sorry, i can't let you leave this visit alive."
before grian could even register the words being spoken (where were they even coming from?? above him? below him? behind him? everywhere, all at once?), he felt hands gripping the back of his shirt. in another moment, he was on the ground, his breath clawing its way out of his chest. above him stood a figure, shrouded in darkness and the billowing, starry cape draped across their shoulders. in their hands was something glinting, something sharp, something deadly -- something that grian's frazzled, spinning mind was unable to put a name to. or maybe it refused to - refused to name the tool that would be his doom. maybe it was better that way, he mused idly, as the figure raised it high above their head. maybe it was best to not know.
"hey! there you are - what did i say about running off?"
and just as quickly as he'd accepted his death, the threat of it was gone, vanquished by the appearance of the tall, costumed man on the rooftop adjacent. grian felt his breath return to his chest in one fell swoop, filling his lungs and sending a wave of sensitivity to his throat. he coughed, hard, tears welling helplessly in his eyes, and the newcomer's attention snapped to him in an instant.
"oh - and you've made a friend! how nice. unfortunately, there are no plus ones in prison."
"hotguy," grian's would-be murderer snarled. "i thought i'd lost you."
"nah. i may have gotten lost, sure. but you didn't lose me. there's a difference."
"you'll wish that i'd lost you when i'm through with you."
"oh, that was lame!" the man cried, hopping over the low rooftop wall and landing neatly on the ground below (how he did it, even grian wasn't sure. by all intents and purposes, his legs shouldn't have that level of shock absorption, even if he had been fed some chemical cocktail by a mad scientist at a young age as he boasted). "listen - we've got to get you a better catchphrase."
hotguy strode forward, his eyes glinting behind his tinted visor. he glanced to grian out of the corner of his eye, then back to the villain - then back to grian again, his mouth going slack in surprise. grian met his gaze - took in his appearance - and let out a bark of laughter, one not missed by either scar goodman or the cloaked figure in front of him. scar returned his laughter, throwing his head back and planting his hands firmly on his hips.
"well, what a coincidence," he giggled, after a moment. "my new catchphrase just so happens to be "subscribe to my youtube channel."
"what?" their third demanded, glancing between the two. "what are you talking about?"
"oh my god. there's no way. there's no way. how - how am i the only one who knows? how am i the only one who suspects?? it's obvious - it's so obvious."
"what's obvious?"
"i know, right? i make it as obvious as possible, and still...still, nobody puts two and two together. well...nobody except for you, apparently. i guess that you're just...special."
"why don't you just come out and say it?" grian mused, propping himself up on his elbows and ignoring the sputtering from their newly acquired third wheel. "i feel like if you said it - either as scar goodman or hotguy - people would have to believe it, no?"
a strange look came over hotguy's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived.
"ah...i don't think that would change anything. plus, i have this thing with this cute guy where he tries to tell everyone my identity and i egg him on to get him to make more silly videos. i would hate to give that up."
he winked, and grian felt warmth climb his cheeks. gone was the fear, gone was the panic, gone was the darkness and the creeping, crawling sense of unease - instead, there was only curiosity, burning brightly in his chest. he wanted to talk to scar - hotguy - for hours, wanted to pull the object of his obsession apart to see what made him tick, then put him back together again, just to see what would happen. he wanted to get to know who hotguy was underneath the suit - and who scar goodman was with the suit. he'd wanted (he'd wanted for so long) and it felt like maybe...just maybe...he'd get to have.
"hey! what the hell is going on?"
"oh, right," hotguy chuckled, turning his attention to the third member of their party. "sorry - didn't mean to ignore you. here - sit tight, for real this time. the police will be here soon."
"dude, i'm just going to leave again. do you really not have handcuffs or something?"
"who needs handcuffs when you have a cub to design fancy gadgets for you?"
"a...a what?" the figure asked, then yelped, startled, as something exploded out of the cuff on hotguy's wrist. a net, affixing itself neatly to their body, wrapping them up in a cocoon of their own folly. grian stared at it, humming in approval.
"nice."
"thank you! it's new."
"i know."
"i bet you do," scar responded, and grian flushed further at the teasing edge his tone took on. "i bet you know almost everything about me, at this point. obsessed, much?"
"i could say the same," grian huffed back, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off his jeans (there was a rip in one leg, now, he noticed with a frown). "you recognized me, like, immediately. it's pretty dark out, too - sounds like you're the one obsessed."
"what can i say - you're pretty and smart. i happen to like my men pretty and smart."
grian sputtered incoherently in response, all confidence gone out the window. oh god - he was even more charismatic in person, even in costume. and god, was the costume more attractive in person, as well - baggy cargo pants and a tight, fitted top that exposed his tanned midriff. not the most tactical, sure - but damn was it hot.
"you can't say that," he moaned, covering his reddened cheeks with his hands. "oh my god. i hate you. i've known you for five minutes and i already hate you."
"sure you do," scar responded, grinning. "i - oh, hold on."
he raised his hand and tapped the earpiece affixed to the side of his head, concentrating. after a moment, he sighed - and for just a second, grian thought that his shoulders drooped in exhaustion. as quickly as they sagged, however, scar was straightening, turning back to grian with an easy smile.
"sorry, handsome, duty calls. are you alright to get back home on your own? i doubt this guy will be giving you any more trouble. those nets are pretty sturdy."
"wait!" grian sputtered, his heart hammering painfully in his chest (no, no, he couldn't let scar slip through his fingers, not now, not when he was finally so close). "don't go - i...can i see you again?"
scar's smile wobbled around the edges, and any panic grian felt was replaced with guilty - heavy and suffocating (though he wasn't sure why)
"ah...isn't it more fun, this way? don't you like the chase? isn't that exhilaration enough for your pretty little head?"
"i mean...it's a fun hobby, yeah, but -,"
"then we'll stick to the status quo. after all, i'd hate to rob you of your favorite hobby. goodnight, grian. can't wait for your next video."
and with a wink, he was gone, disappearing back into the shadows so quickly grian could have sworn he was made of them. and grian...well. he had an apartment to get home to, a cat to feed...and a chase to continue. and maybe, someday, if he was fast enough...he'd catch up.
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