#it took me one hour to write this post yes

[dairy-farmer]

Yes that’s the one! Thank you so much! Do you also have it on tumblr? Twitter hides the thread when you are not a member ):

answered out of order:

brutim

cw/tw cnc

i dont but i can post it! here!

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brutim| bruce with noncon fantasies he never shared with partners like talia or selina. but then tim gets hit with a spell that makes him say the opposite of what he wants and bruce fucks him harder than he ever has before while shivering at his 'no more! stop! help me! slower!'

bruce being so close to finishing, fucking harder and deeper and then tim, gasps, whines, and in his ears bruce hears him beg-

"not inside! not inside!"

and bruce GROANS and cums as deep as he can in tim.

it’s during one of those rare out-of-gotham cases that it happens. tim gets returned to him by a sheepish clark who is holding a squirming superboy by the ear in one hand.

“zatanna says it should wear off by morning”

IT. is a tongue curse.

a magician had seen that robin had been the one calling the shots and decided to teach him a lesson.

in the medbay tim squirms as bruce examines him, peeling off his sweat-slickened suit and prodding at his bruises and superficial cuts.

“that doesn’t hurt."

tim states matter of factly when bruce presses a finger to a sluggishly bleeding scrape on tim’s jaw.

bruce carefully removes his fingers.

that means it does hurt. it was, afterall, a diametric spell. every word that came out of tim's mouth was the opposite of what he wanted.

if he said it didn't hurt, that meant that it did. if he didn't want something, it meant that he did.

bruce had tested it out, trying to see the extent of how the spell worked.

it was only supposed to last a few hours but bruce still wanted a catalog of the incident.

'yes' meant 'no'.

'slow down' became 'faster'.

simple things like that.

expletives were interesting. when bruce ordered tim to swear at him, tim blushed and hesitantly said 'fuck'.

names seemed unaffected.

it appeared that since the words were exclamations rather than words with assigned meanings they didn't have a reversal.

bruce put tim through a set of comprehensive tests to see the extent of the spell.

if bruce told him to point to the right, tim would point to the left.

if bruce told him to write down specific words, tim would write the opposite.

but if bruce didn't order him then tim could do as he pleased. it was a fascinating effect. able to function by using compulsion.

the spell seemed to invade tim's language center, his writing ability, and his body's motions.

when bruce told tim to step closer to him, tim took a step back.

it was a remarkable effect. and dangerous.

things like this in the field could immediately effect the chain of command, orders given, and plans laid out.

if tim tried to resist saying anything at all he could remain silent.

for a bit.

but then his jaw would begin to tremble and bruce would see drool collecting in the corner of tim's mouth until tim burst out with the words.

tim's mouth was slack, pink tongue peeking out. lines and strings of drool dripped out as tim hastily wiped it away.

bruce stared for a moment longer than necessary before adding that the spell had a compulsion aspect to it.

alfred was away in europe for a few more days, leaving bruce and tim alone for the most part.

that's why bruce was in charge of tim's physical.

along with making sure he got something to eat and was showered and dressed for bed.

tim is already up in his room by the time bruce retires from the cave.

there's a small tub of ointment for tim's bruises in his hand.

he'd forgotten to hand it to tim before he sent him upstairs.

bruce knocks and lets the door creak open, peeking in to the sight of tim sitting up and staring at him from bed.

"get out."

bruce's sleepiness had a bit of its claws in him but at the sound of the soft order he startles awake.

bruce's head shoots up to face tim who is red-faced and squirming in bed.

"get out," he repeats with more force before letting out a sharp frustrated breath through his nose.

bruce feels a tug of something in his gut and enters tim's room.

tim's sleeping shirt is hanging off a shoulder. there's a bright red mark on his shoulder that will likely purple into a bruise within a day or two.

tim has pushed himself up and is staring at bruce with some hazy interest.

bruce doesn't know why he hasn't offered tim the ointment yet. instead, he's just standing in tim's room. staring.

but there's a strange tension in the air.

bruce is shirtless with just some loose cotton sleeping pants. tim is in a simple shirt and some underwear that bruce can see peeking beneath.

tim is staring at him patiently. waiting for his explanation for why he's in his room so late.

the room he's already told bruce to get out of. (but it wasn't like that was it? tim didn't mean to tell bruce to get out, he meant to tell him to come in when he knocked).

they've been here before. done this before.

where the manor was empty save for them and tim would crawl into bed with bruce.

it started innocently enough, tim tucking his face into bruce's neck, breathing him in. but then hands wandered and clothes were removed.

bruce always felt guilty in the morning.

he avoided tim for a few days out of shame and then everything returned to normal.

bruce could always reassure himself with the fact that it was always tim who came to him. tim entered his room, got into his bed.

it wasn't as bad if tim was the one who did it. who started it.

bruce felt less guilty about it.

but here...now...

bruce was in tim's room. (coming to give him medicine).

tim was staring at him and bruce held out the small glass jar.

"ointment" he offered and held it out to tim who went cross-eyed to stare at it.

"use it for your bruises."

tim sucked on his bottom lip. slowly.

bruce watched the movement of his mouth with something forming in his gut.

tim looked back up at him. eyes big, one shoulder bare with his shirt hanging off it.

"i'm not in any pain."

tim let his tongue dart out to wet his lips. bruce watched it like a hawk. "i don't need your help."

bruce swallowed thickly. something...something was in his gut coiling.

tim's tone ordering him to get out. tim's insistence that he wasn't in pain and didn't need bruce's help.

"i'll do it." bruce replied, voice oddly croaked. "i'll apply it."

"no." tim breathed, voice oddly breathless. "i don't want you to."

bruce felt a shiver race down his spine as he edged closer, form practically eclipsing tim.

bruce pressed him down with a single hand.

tim didn't resist him. tim's pupils were big, his breathing was heavier

bruce grabbed tim's bare thigh, squeezing it experimentally and listening to tim's soft hiss.

"did that hurt?" bruce asked.

he opened the slick balm that turned to an oil with the warmth of his skin.

"no." tim replied with a slight strain, like he was reluctant like he didn't mean it.

something tugged at bruce's brainstem.

bruce massaged the flesh.

he dug in expert fingers until tim let out a soft whimper.

"you want me to make you feel better?" bruce asked, voice heavy with...something.

tim whimpered.

"n-no."

tim's eyes slip closed and bruce inched closer.

"are you going to let me help you?"

tim shakily sucked in a breath and-

"n-no. no i don't want your help, please-"

bruce wasn't paying attention to tim's bruises or scratches. the little glass jar was somewhere in the sheets, bruce didn't know where. he was too focused on tim.

tim's little baby clit was pulsing under bruce's fingers as tim's thighs shook around where bruce had settled between his legs.

tim was making little murmurs under his breath, brows furrowed as bruce trailed his fingers around his slick little entrance.

"stop." tim panted.

"stop stop stop-"

bruce swallowed the lump in his throat, steadied his shaking arm and pressed two fingers into tim's wet slit.

tim arched up off the bed.

"n-no! no! bruce-" bruce felt something like agony course through him.

his jaw was clenched so tight, his body was winded up with tension.

bruce shoved tim's shirt further up his chest. his other hand not inside tim, cupped and pinched tim's little tit. he squeezed and roughed up the flesh.

he left the skin red and distressed as he pressed in closer and ground his covered cock into tim's wet seam.

"no, bruce, no-"

tim began shaking, trembling under him.

bruce knows it's because he gets overwhelmed. because it just feels too good.

it's not because he's afraid.

not because he doesn't want this. but still. tim's words and the mixed signals from his body- they just do things to bruce's brain.

he's felt guilty about his thoughts that were like this.

he's cursed himself and convinced himself there was something deeply wrong with him for desiring something like this.

a body squirming and crying under him, desperate to get away. but bruce is too big, too strong and they can't escape. they can't get away.

bruce knows it's wrong. it's a branch of depraved that is considered one of the more extreme taboos.

he's never tried it with a partner. never.

he knows the kind of women he is attracted to. strong and proud.

they'd never lower themselves to begging.

they'd never give into the indignance of pretending to be a victim for bruce. they'd be insulted, disgusted even.

it's why bruce kept it to himself. kept his shameful thoughts to himself.

bruce comforts himself with the fact that he's sickened by the thought of ever attempting something like this outside of a fantasy.

not in real life.

not when he's seen the aftermath on the streets so many times.

but still sometimes...he can't help but just think of it...

it's why he hated himself just a little bit more every time the desire reared his head and he touched himself to the thought of backing someone into a corner and using all his bulk to do what he wanted to them.

so bruce is more than a little interested in tim (he ignores the voice in his head that is telling him this is a bad idea).

more than he usually is.

because tim is soft. his body is pliant and bends to bruce's whims.

he's warm and he clings to bruce every time he bottoms out into his sinfully tight cunt. all sloppy and wet and straining against the size of bruce.

sometimes tim freezes up like one of those deers in the headlights when bruce fucks him.

with his legs thrown over bruce's shoulders, hands clinging to any bit he can hang on, mouth open and just staring at bruce with big eyes. bruce rocks into his body, meeting his eyes and holding his hips as he fucks deep and fast until tim is twitching around him.

until he's letting out soft 'unghh unghh hnngh' sounds.

but tim also likes to talk, he's vocal and offers feedback to bruce. (which bruce appreciates).

he tells bruce what he likes, tells him to keep going, to fuck faster, deeper, harder-

bruce shivers as tim whines under him. he's twitching around bruce's fingers, pussy clamping onto the fingers and desperate to keep them in even as he cries-

"no more! no more! it hurts"

bruce groans over tim, cock so achingly hard and throbbing that he's dripping with precum.

bruce is panting audibly, he can hear himself in his ears as he grinds his cock against tim's twitching cunt stuffed full of his fingers.

bruce thrusts them in down to the knuckle.

tim's body jolts, flinching against the movement. bruce crouches closer, his heart is pounding in his chest. his cock is aching with need to be inside tim.

bruce presses his fingers in harshly, spreading them, watching as tim's pretty,

red pussy strained to accommodate the stretch.

"does that hurt?" bruce asked, voice heavy with desire. he can feel his body coiled in anticipation at tim's reply. there are tears beading in his eyes, his cheeks are stained red and he's squirming.

"does that hurt tim?"

"yes!" tim cries, a little sob bursting out of him as he shook. bruce felt his hot cunt go tight around his fingers.

bruce shivered.

"you want daddy to make you hurt? huh?"

" you want him to destroy your little pussy?" bruce's voice was a near growl. his hands drifted down to his pants and began tugging them down, shivering at the warm air as it hit his cock dripping with need.

fuck. bruce had never been this hard before.

he hadn't even fucking touched himself and he was already leaking.

"no!" tim sobbed, head thrown back and tears streaming down his face "no! no! no!"

bruce shook as he tugged out his dripping fingers.

"daddy's going to fuck you-"

"no!"

"yes he is."

bruce steadied his grip on tim's hips, carefully inched closer to tim's entrance and looked up to stare at tim's tear-filled eyes that were staring at him as near inaudible 'no no no's' were being whispered under his breath.

bruce almost cooed at the sight before fucked all the way in with a single hard thrust.

tim went still under him.

"yes. he. is." bruce snapped his hips into a sharp thrust with every word as tim gasped with every push into him.

"bruce,"

tim let out the word with such a raspy voice like he was being strangled. "bruce, stop, stop, stop-"

tim's voice was increasing in urgency. bruce could see as tim's face was twisted in pleasure.

his legs desperately wrapped around bruce's hips to keep him in even as he pleaded for bruce to stop, to slow down, to get out of him-

bruce felt as something seeped into him. he felt like he detached from his body,

only able to watch as he pinned down tim's hips and began FUCKING.

tim threw his head back and cried.

"oh god! bruce no more no more! slower! oh please go slower! i can't take it!"

bruce buried his face into tim's shoulder,

groaning as he listened to tim squirm under him, breathy voice pleading with bruce to stop this, to slow down, that it hurts-

bruce started fucking harder, faster, deeper.

tim's hips arched up to meet his hard thrusts. tim was panting in his ear, breathless,

and whining with a strained voice.

bruce pumped his cock into tim's hot cunt, feeling as he split open his walls. as that tight pussy shivered around him, unable to handle his size.

tim's body was so small under him, so easy to grab and manipulate and hold down.

tim kept squirming under him, trying to get into a better position, trying to lift his hips so bruce could sink in deeper. but with the words he's saying and how he's moving. it's almost as if he's trying to escape.

"stop fighting."

bruce whispered the order to tim's ear. "stop fighting and let me fuck you."

tim went still for a moment and bruce knows what's coming. knows it from the moment tim's body refused to follow a direct order while bruce tested him.

tim can't help but do the opposite of what he's told.

bruce groans as tim tries desperately to buck him off. his legs are kicking at either side of him. tim grunts with effort as his hands press on bruce's chest, trying to push him off.

he's fighting bruce so fiercely. fighting like he doesn't want this.

tim sobs into his ears and tells him to stop, stop, stop.

bruce lays his weight onto tim, pins down his hands and fucks into tim with twice the fervor he did before.

bruce feels like something has unclasped in him. there's a swirling heat in his gut that's all demand and want for him to take.

tim stretches so beautifully for him, his cunt sucking him and letting him bottom out about despite tim's words about not wanting this,

about hating this, about hating bruce.

"i ...i h-hate you-" tim breathes out as he keens when bruce roughly strokes his clit. "i hate you i hate you- oh god, fuck i hate you so fucking much-"

bruce laps up the hot tears streaming down tim's sweetly pink cheeks.

he hums his acknowledgment into tim's brows and litters gentle kisses onto the skin.

tim sobs and shakes under him, trembling like a bird in the snow.

bruce groans as he sinks in deep, feels his balls slap tim's wet cunt and stays there. he feels tim twitch around him.

feels his hot pussy walls clamp down and try to keep him inside.

tim is straining under him, caught between sobbing and trying to squirm away from him. bruce just wraps a hand around his waist and uses his hard-earned strength to keep tim pinned to him.

bruce groans into tim's cheek as the bit of wiggling has tim thrusting up and down on his cock.

"good boy," bruce breathes, "such a good boy- you want this so badly don't you?"

"n-no!" tim's voice is thick with his sobs and tears and bruce kisses his parted mouth,

licking in and tasting the sweet slickness of tim's saliva.

"you love me fucking you, don't you? you little slut"

tim weakly twitches under him and nods his head even after a croaked "no i don't, i hate it, i hate it so much-"

bruce's cock has been steadily dripping cum the entire tim. his balls are clenched tight and bruce can feel he's right at the edge.

tim's pussy is so perfect for him, accommodating him so well and letting bruce batter the walls as he begins to pull back and sharply thrust in.

tim yelps and clings to bruce as he begins panting out low orders to his ears.

"i'm so close, just be quiet tim alright?-"

"don't let anyone in the house know what we're doing okay? just a little longer okay, i'm almost done. daddy's almost done and then he'll cum inside you, alright?"

tim's cries got louder. louder and louder until he was almost screaming bruce's name.

pleading for him to slow down, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, can't someone help him? please!

tim suddenly lets out a sharp cry and throws his head back. bruce grunts as he feels tim tighten around him, hard enough the at he can barely move but bruce just fucks. harder.

tim lets out punctuated 'ah ah ah's' with every push of bruce's cock.

tim is panting. red-faced. out of breath. almost delirious with pleasure as bruce feels tim's little clit throb under his fingers.

"nnhg b-bruce-" tim's voice is dry and raspy.

his brows are furrowed as he lets out occasional gasps. "nngh n-not inside, please."

bruce feels his eyes close. his breaths are growing heavier, his thighs are burning with lactic acid as he sinks into that sloppy wet pussy.

bruce can hear the 'squelches' in his ears as he feels his balls tighten until its almost painful.

"not inside!" tim sobs. fresh tears are streaming down his cheeks and his forehead is creased from overstimulation of bruce touching his little clitty. "no! not inside!"

"not inside! please! please bruce!"

tim is begging him not to cum in him. not to ruin him further.

and bruce almost cries as he cums, scrambling to stuff inside tim as deep as he can. he groans as he feels his cum shoot into tim.

he knows it's pooling right at the entrance of his womb.

the thought fills bruce with so much animalistic satisfaction that he humps into tim's slutty hole while listening to his whines. bruce bites and kisses at his pretty pink tits.

sucking hard enough to leave bruises before shoving his tongue into that exhausted little mouth.

bruce hums into it, as the kiss grows sloppy and thick with spit that froths down their chins.

tim whimpers occasionally.

his body slow and unreactive as bruce tugs his softened cock out and lets it rest against the seam of tim's well-used pussy.

"you're mine." bruce whispers to him. "say you're mine. you'll always be mine."

tim's eyes are heavy with sleep, he's nodding off as he says-

"n-no."

"not yours. w-wil never be yours."

bruce shivers at the words and tightens his grip on tim's hip. his wet cock, spent and tired, gets pressed back into tim's little hole with a bit of manuevering.

bruce is going to keep it there for the night.

tucked inside a nice warm hole where it belonged. plugged in until tim's pussy never forgot the shape of bruce's cock.

until he never forgot that his cunt was bruce's. his tits, his mouth, his body, his everything was bruce's.

maybe bruce should be horrified.

maybe the weight of what he's done should be sitting like a stone in his stomach. his guilt should keep him awake as well as the anticipation of morning because by morning tim will be back to normal.

he'll be back to normal and will know how much bruce liked fucking him while acting like he didn't want it. he'll know the things bruce said to him and how much he liked tim fighting against him.

maybe bruce should be more mortified.

more concerned about how tim wasn't disturbed by this.

but instead, bruce settles in. he tightens his grip on tim's hip and tucks tim's sweet head under his chin.

he breathes in deeply and sleeps without a single thing weighing on his mind.

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[mirmidones]

3.40 i woke up bc i was cold and needed to pee and now i can't fall back asleep i keep thinking of the people i accidentally ghosted. is it ghosted if there was no intent to ghost? i feel so bad and it's not even like i don't think about them i often do think "i should really reply to them... once this is over ill properly sit down and write them... " and then i don't bc something else happens and im dealing with that and the longer i leave it unanswered the more difficult it becomes because i feel so guilty and therefore want to do things properly not half assed but bc i feel so guilty a part of me also tends to avoid it even more. if i do this to you just know i'm really sorry and ill get back to you i swear

[dansevilpianotea]

ramble ahead about time, tatinof, 2015 and changing one's life

tatinof is very special and im so happy they did this video to acknowledge that its not cringe at all and that theyre proud of their past selves !! there's sth genuinely healing about that !! ive had a hard time in 2015 and even tho i was 12/13 and just discovered that online fan communities of things i was into were a thing and was nowhere close to the phandom (i joined after BIG), this is the fandom internet that i joined back then. thats why its so poetic that they sing 'the internet is here', because to me this is the time it started to be there for me. it wasnt always kind to me and instagram was not a great platform to start on if your bullies and other ppl from school were also on it, but it was also when for the first time ever i realised that there were not only people who liked what i liked but that those ppl also have created their own culture and community online !! i was not totally alone !! there is a life outside of school !! i would never chose to go back to that time ever like it was horrible (that applies to any time in the past tho, i hate the idea of 'going back in time' with a passion) but im glad that the internet was there for me because no one else really was if im being real with you.

more below the cut because im an insufferable yapper (dan is a terrible influence haha tit joke)

this all is maybe why i find it hard to go back to watch dnps older content and also the stuff from the tatinof era. dan's sarcastic self-hating persona and phils innocent nerd persona are both hitting a bit too close to home and i want to both cry for them and for myself. we knew nothing back then. we were lost and yet did sth we were proud of. yet here we are almost 10 years later and how the fuck did we end up here but oh my god im so proud of us. all it took for me was to watch dan's coming out video. all it took for them was to be embraced and loved by their audience (us). dan also needed a break which is something that at the time it happend was really hard for me but then i found my wonderful lovely phannie discord friends here. we really all got here together and if i ever see any single person say that dnp hate us or dan hates it or that dnp are cringe or that we are cringe etc etc i will block you so hard because what are you even doing bringing up drama when in reality dan and phil and the phandom have developed the most remarkable symbiotic relationship between artist adn fans ever. they are our dads and i honestly just want to say how fucking proud i am of them for how far theyve come and what theyve done since 2015. dan really did the whole mental health and gay thing but then he did the mental health again!! and i think ywgttn and wad need to be given more credit here because idk if you remember pre-wad dan but he wasnt anything like post wad dan. every since wad he seems so happy and genuinely authetic and in peace. (im ignoring dystopia daily here because that was filmed before wad and his dd persona also reminds me too much of 2015 depressed dan than whatever high concept he was going for lol, im just not a dd fan). like wad changed his relationship with us and its warming my entire heart when i see dan smile so much now. he deserves to be happy and proud. and if dan deserved it after going through so much and coming out on top (literally), then i deserve it too. and phil? i love how he's just so confident now. fuck. (literally). he is not the innocent nerd anymore like he actually is fully really himself now and feels comfortable in his body (crop top, phlonde, etc) and openly expressing his sexuality ! even compare this phil to phil from the beginning of the hiatus!! he got so much more confident and relaxed since then!! like fully, really, if he can do it, if he can strip himself of the persona that ppl have attributed to him because of his anxiety, then i can do that too. im so proud of phil. he is an inspiration and the more he's being himself publically with no shame, the more an autistic phannie will feel hopeful for their future. im so proud of both of them.

like its crazy you go through your life thinking you're going nowhere and never making any progress and will never reach your goals but then you stop and look back what you were like 6 months ago and realise how many lives you have lived since then. it always goes back to BIG when dan said this:

[...] I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that's it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we've dreamed of. I want anyone that's ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side.

this everyone, changed my life. and i will never be able to thank dan enough for it, no matter how much i pay for tour tickets, how often i watch their videos or share my love for them on here. i just want to mention this because its never just 'light entertainment', it means the world to many of us and we have build a wonderful and loving community despite the hardships of the past and pointless discourses of the present. like, we can change shit for ourselves because we see these gay idiots do it who have done soooo fucking much in the last 15 years like they were on radio 1 and on a hollywood billboard and hosted various big big events. and yet, they decided they want to use their time to do things for themselves and their community. they have said many times that they havent made a profit from (parts of) their tours but they do it regardless. they do really love us and i dont think ive ever really felt loved by people who i was in a fandom for like that. its really not as parasocial as it might seem anymore. we got here together and we should be proud of that. i love dnp and i love you phannies so much !! 💕💕💕💕💕

[sinvulkt]

20 Questions For Writers

Wow, thank you so much for the tag @fanfictasia !! I've wanted to participate in something like this forever!! 🎶✨️✨️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Right now? 66.

"Yes, as a star wars writer, I am very proud of that. No, I do not intend to change it anytime soon."

I really need to focus on (and finish) some of my WIPs, and that mean trying not to disperse my energy amidst one shots (no matter how much i love monthly challenges and fic exchange events). Also I'm very proud of that 66 count and want to appreciate it xd.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

321k words!!

(More or less 100k / year 🎶 little me would never believe that 0.0

My school exam results sure don't, with how they are dropping 🤣)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star wars mostly (Vaderkin or my OC Sinvulkt), then Marvel (Dr Strange), Dream SMP (Dream), Le Visiteur du Future (Renard) and more recently Batman (Bruce Wayne) as well as Avatar: the last airbender (Zuko).

Plus the original stories I am supposed to write but almost never end up doing xd (the engagement in fandom compared to original stories make the switch hard xd).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Dreamt of a Never Ending Sky (Dream SMP)

669 kudos

2. To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)

480 kudos

3. On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

380 kudos

4. Scales of Embers (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

353 kudos

5. Crash Landing on Space Australia (Star Wars)

319 kudos

I'll never know how my Dream SMP fic got so much engagement. Good timing at a moment the fandom was in effervescence, I guess. Scales of Embers scoring so high is also a surprise 0.0. I discovered it had that many kudos today. It’s a shame the Dr Strange fandom is small because I think my Dr Strange WIP What If Doctor Strange Lost His Humanity ? would have deserved a place here. It definitely does in my heart.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! As a reader, I always feel super happy when the author shows that they’ve read and appreciated my comments. I know that personality an author who answers make me more likely to want to drop a comment.

As an author, I absolutely want to show how much I love every single comments, so I try to answer them all. But I get a little overwhelmed sometimes, bcs lots of other stuff going on irl or another reason. As such, it can happen that I don't feel the energy to answer a comment on the spot. And if I don't answer it on the spot (using the power of the wiggy dizzy nice happy feeling of getting a comment), I don't necessarily have the energy to answer later on. I currently have something like 60 unanswered comments I think? TT.TT

But rest assured that whether I answered or not, I absolutely adore and cherish every single ones!! Comments are amazing! ✨️.✨️

(This kind of engagement is one of the only reason I managed to settle into such an active rythm of writing after years of trying then dropping the hobby~)

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Glance at my fics.

Uhhh... This is a hard question here... Many of them have angsty endings XD

Mostly the ones at the beginning (the worst written ones xd). I wonder why~

Also a lot of them don' have endings yet XD

I'll say amidst the 'old' fics from 2021, Day 8 - Screaming (Star Wars) would be the angstier one (or most horrible one ig xd).

But as far as recent fic go... While I haven't finished writing it bcs its wordcount exploded in my face, I already plotted / drafted it a few months ago and I know the ending, so I'll choose:

Batman’s Downfall (To Stand Alone) (Batman)

I noticed my kind of angst doesn’t have much success around these parts 🫠🤣. Oh well. I cherish it all the same :3.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sometimes I think I wrote too many fics. It's hard to select one.

Uhhh... My fluffiest works are one shots in Of Feathers and Freedom serie, but they are part of the series so it’s not really an 'ending'.

...

I'll answer for the crackiest story rather than the happiest ending bcs all my finished fics ending are ominous open ending at best xd.

The Blob Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi (Star Wars)

Because it's cute blob drawings of our crazy team of OC in taaoej, and I love them (although we are all angst lovers in taaoej, so it's more crack-angst, and we don't know the ending bcs there isn't really one. Not yet at least. Hopefully never).

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Just my own innervoice as far as I'm aware. But then I've always been rather clueless when people tried to 'hate on me'. The message usually just got lost somewhere in dreamspace immensity, never computing.

I've found the fandoms communities really welcoming at the very least!!

9. Do you write smut?

No.

I don't really enjoy reading smut. Nor romance for the matter. I don't think I'd enjoy writing it.

But maybe I'll try one day, for the sake of experimenting all genres.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I never did. I don't know why. Maybe I just never felt the need to mix characters and universes. There are amazing crossovers out there though, so who knows, maybe one day I'll try one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. In all honesty, I don't think my works are nearly popular enough to get stolen xd.

My writing style isn’t that good yet, and my dislike of romance when the majority of the fandom community is ship-powered means I end up in a corner quite niche. (A corner I love, that being said. Yay Crack, Angst and Gen~)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but maybe I'll translate some of mine in french someday. Be it only so that I do write fiction in my native language from time to time.

Anyone that wanna translate my fics, feel free to!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)!!

I’m still waiting for my co-author @purpleopossum to come back to me / get back in star wars mood to continue that one. 🫠

Can’t say my hopes are that high up after all this time, but it’s the redemption | healing part of the serie and I don’t really have fun writing alone redemption | healing part... i prefer doing the whole mayhem that create the injury in the first place. And with how long some of my fics hiatus are (and I got no excuse for those xd), it’s only fair for me to wait. (I did write more other works for the dragon Vader serie in the meantime xd).

I made an oath to myself to never leave a work unfinished though, so we’ll see. If in several years purple still doesn’t wish to continue it, or if she inform me she is dropping the story, I’ll try to make some kind of ending. It’s part of the game i guess.

Alternatively, the The Amazing Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi universe is a group of star wars OCs that we made together with @pat-the-togorian , @asteral-feileacan , @ct2002-rema and Xylian. I don’t know if that count as co-writing? We usually write our OCs pov.

But in all cases, co-writting is very fun and I’d definitely do it again if other opportunities arise in the future.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

The absence of ship is my all-time favorite ship. Otherwise, "main character / digging their own grave" would be my 'favorite ship' since I tend to synch with idiots snarky jerks disasters.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars) that I mentioned for question 13? 🤣

More seriously, I'll answer On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

Because it's my vent fic. I know the main plot line, I vaguely know the current arc, but no one can predict where the next arc will go. It's all pure impulse and while I have a vague idea of 'ending', I refuse to plan a path towards it. This fic specifically, I want to keep pure impulse. So I'd love for it to become some kind of "The NeverEnding Story". :3

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I write.

No seriously, it's not something I did four years ago appart from vent poems here and there. Writing is in itself a huge writing strenght!

Otherwise I'm also a bottomless well of idea. It's pretty neat.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

... romance?

Or dialogues. Lastly I have a lot of frustration around the transition from dialogue / transition / dialogue. I feel like I'm crap at properly timing that.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's fun. I do it for games sometimes. Since apparently writing normally is not chllenging enough for my brain sometimes. It did teach me bits of mando'a.

Recently for Sēċan (Star Wars) I decided last minute to put the whole droid dialogue in morse, and I regret none of it.

I'm usually only doing it for one shots though, and never 'official existing' languages until now.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star wars :p

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Now that's another hard question, how am I supposed to select one.

I'm gonna answer the whole Of Feathers And Freedom (Star Wars) serie. Bcs wings. :3

Tag time~ (if you wish to)

@purpleopossum @pat-the-togorian @cinderfeather @beguilewritesstuff @purple-iris @dreaminghour @ravenite-void @trickstress333 @bluntblade @doctorgeekery @stewardofningishzida @jenae-0 @trickstress333 @kittonafoxgirl @pastelcourage @salparadiselost @kefalion @charlottevader @ravenstakeflight @starr234 @aelaer @sarcasticfirefighter @mckiwi @linzerj @sonderwalker @exomal @tonhalszendvics @nephilimswitchlight @firejay112 @only-here-for-the-star-wars @ajedilikehisfather @makaronik @chickadeechickadoo @dirtkid123 @numerousbees1106 @akizumy @25centsoda @udekai @wendingways @silvereddaye @in-company-of-misery @wisechaosglitter @kuraiarcoiris @alright-anakin @wyvunn you're more than welcome to join on the interview fun!! (Or to ignore the tagging if not interested xd).

I know I tagged. I lot of people. Some of you may recognise my pseud, some may not. But I thought it would be interesting to hear the answer of the various authors with whom I interacted on ao3 over the years, so I went and digged up those with tumblr I could find from my inbox 🤣

(Hopefully I didn’t bother any of you >.< - otherwise I apologize. Same for if I accidentally tagged a non-writer.)

I'd love to hear your answers! 🎶

[newtness532]

my study sessions consist of 60% singing along to songs, 15% of staring at the wall, 15% looking up random things or getting up to do unrelated stuff and maybe 10% actually studying and then i have the audacity to wonder why it takes me so long to finish anything

[sorcerous-caress]

I hope you are doing well

Did I- Did I make it seem like I'm going crazy or something? Like yes I am okay, I promise.

Well, no. I lied, but I'm not worse than normal. I have always been this deranged. It is not out of the ordinary. Why the concerns now?

But thank you anyways, I hope you're doing well too.

[darnell-la]

perchance..dry humping with logan….pretty please with all the cherries on top

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡 '𝗘𝗠 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬

summary: Logan had just became apart of the x men. he’s always been known to flirt with whoever he could, but when y/n came around, he realized she was the only one he wanted to smell like.

warnings: up late, public humping, embarrassed, kissing, submission, dominance, dry orgasm, love confession, etc.

note: we kind of want to write a submissive!logan… tell us what y’all think.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Whatcha doin’ down here, bub? It’s like three in the mornin,” Logan made his way into the kitchen. Y/n had jumped from the man’s voice. She wasn’t expecting anyone down here. She wasn’t expecting him down here.

“God — I-I’m just listening to music,” y/n placed her phone down and took her headphones out. She was lying and somehow, Logan knew that. The way she slammed her phone — He couldn’t hold back his smirk.

“Are you sure that’s what you’re up to?” Logan asked as he sat next to y/n with his eyes on her phone. “Yes, I was-“ she tried to lie but she was cut off when Logan snatched her phone.

“Hey!” She yelled and whispered at the man, praying her phone was locked, but it wasn’t. Shit. “Let’s see what we have here,” Logan leaned back in his chair as he clicked the video he assumed she was just watching.

“Why are you watching us train?” Logan asked, already finding whatever she was doing boring. “You’re not even in the video,” he laughed, trying to figure out what it was that she was looking at until he noticed the video was cropped.

It was cropped to show him closer. The man skipped the video and noticed it was almost an hour long of him fighting.

The smirk that grew on his face, raised y/n’s heart rate. She was caught and she had nothing to back her up.

“Now, what made you do this, bub?” Logan slid her phone across the table for her to look at. “If I’m not mistaken, that looks like me — for an hour,” he pointed at himself fight training.

“I-I can't explain,” she said low, so embarrassed that she got caught. How could she get caught? She knew she should’ve stayed in her room.

“I don’t think there’s much to explain, princess. Seems you get off by watching me fight,” Logan was now hunching over, looking at her with his sweet and soft eyes.

She couldn’t look at him. She swore she would pass out if she did.

“You like watching me fight?” Logan asked y/n, a right hand softly touching her thigh. He’s been teasing her ever since he got here. Tonight was the first time he touched her. She was going inside on the inside.

“I know you do, you wanna know why?” He asked, hands getting higher until he stopped under her nightgown. His fingers were grazing her panties. Y/n looked up at the older boy, eyes shy.

“Because I can smell that pretty cunt leak,” his voice was sweet, yet dark. “And you’re always like that. It’s hard walking past you because you’re always so damn wet,” he tease as he rubbed on her clothes heat.

“Logan,” she whispered, not knowing if she wanted him to do this. They’re in the kitchen, so anyone could come down here and see how flustered she is from the way he’s talking and touching her.

“C’mere, bub,” Logan pulled away before patting his lap. Y/n was confused at first, but got the idea and did was she was told. She got up and went to sit, back facing him until he turned her around to sit, facing him.

As soon as she sat down, she felt how hard he was. It felt like actual metal, but she knew a human cock had no bone — So why is he this hard?

“You feel that, princess? Got me like this as soon as I walked in,” he said, making his cock throb through his pajamas. “I-I don’t know if we can do this,” y/n spoke. She’s never been a submissive kind, but he brought it out of her.

“Why not? I’ve liked you ever since I got here. Had to work weeks to make you nervous,” Logan’s hands traveled from her back, down to her ass to grip and pull at.

“We’re in the kitchen, Logan. A-And I don’t think the girls that you talk to will-“ she went to say but he cut her off quickly. “Ah uh — I don’t talk to anyone, bub. They talk to me,” he corrected her.

“I’ve been workin’ hard to impress you. No one else. Who gives a shit if they want me. I don’t want them,” Logan lifted his hand to cup her chin.

“Are you okay with that?” He asked, now using his hand that was on her ass to move her, making her grind on his clothes cock.

The whine that left her mouth, made Logan’s heart skip a beat. She sounds so beautiful.

“C’mon, baby, tell me — Tell me you’re okay with being my pretty girl,” he said, slowly moving his own hips. He kept asking her, wanting her to reply as her mind fogged up.

“O-Okay,” her head fell onto his shoulder. Logan lifted the girl's head back up only to lean in and suck on her neck. He wanted to make sure she knew he was going to claim her.

“Lo,” y/n moaned, now moving her own hips, feeling her cunt throb on him. She was getting hot and her stomach felt funny. Kind of when she masturbated but better.

She’s never grinned at someone, but this felt so good. This felt amazing.

“Always lookin’ so pretty, baby,” Logan said as his hands lifted her nightgown up so he could touch and feel her skin. “T-Thank you,” she stuttered as she looked into the man’s eyes.

Y/n was the first to lean in and taste Logan. He was sweet. He already knew she was sweet, but finding it out for himself was the best feeling.

Y/n’s hips began to speed up as her moans got a bit louder. Logan knew she was near. He couldn’t help but smirk on her lips. She was falling apart right on top of him.

“C-Cumming,” the word was barely heard from the low she was. Her moan was broken as she shook. She’s never had her cunt throb this hard before. She couldn’t stop it.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned under his breath as his hips bucked. He swear he wouldn’t cum in his pants. He’s not one of those, but tonight — he was different. Y/n felt wetness grow under him, and she knew it wasn’t her.

She was confused until she looked at the man in front of her. His breathing stuttered, his body twitched and his shaky arm was holding her back into him so she’d be closer to him.

“O-Oh my god, baby — Fuck,” the man caught his breath and calmed down from his high. In his mind, he thought she was emasculated, but when he looked at her needy eyes, he knew she still felt submissive.

“You’re so good, baby,” Logan gave her a peck. “I think I’m in love,” he joked, but they could both tell he wasn’t joking. “I know I am,” y/n said as her hands rested on his shoulders.

Logan felt relief before he smashed his lips on hers, making out with her roughly but softly at the same time. He eventually took her up to his room, not being able to hold back and tell her how he was going to move everything from her room into his.

He didn’t think he wanted her this bad, but after tonight — After she showed how much she liked him back, he needed to keep her around him at all costs. He was in love and she was too.

[httpsserene]

Jealous sex with Charles 🤩

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐜𝐥. ����𝟔

summary: there’s no reason for charles to be jealous of men who are stupid enough to think they have a chance with you. content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. jealous sex. tennis. monte carlo masters winner stefanos tsitsipas used as a plot device. porn with a side of plot. mildly possesive!charles leclerc. jealousy. reader’s kindness is misunderstood for flirting. no infidelity. vaginal sex. unprotected sex(don’t do that!). fingering. missionary & cowgirl. rough(ish?) sex. the clothes stay on. uhm, reader gets railed stupid, lowkey. cumplay (i’m so sorry). pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bpoc!reader word count: 2.8k words.

from serene: surprised i finished this when i said i would. to make a long story short, i’m breaking up with my boyfriend 🤪✌🏽ANYWAYS, i listened to the beauty behind the madness and my dear melancholy albums by the weekend to lock in the smexxy vibes. idk if it worked, it took me two days to write less than 3k words 🙂 y’all lmk if you think the wait was worth it, and enjoy reading lovelies x

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

The car ride home was quiet. You figured it was post-tennis exhaustion keeping your boyfriend quiet; the entire match was viewed with the Monte Carlo sun radiating down on the stands. Secondarily, the silence could’ve been induced by a little social exhaustion even though Charles thrives in crowds—the two of you spent a couple of hours before the match chatting to anyone who approached him, which felt like every person at the event had to have his attention for a brief moment. Then after the match, the two of you spent another hour speaking with the Master’s Winner, Stefanos, and the Prince, before you were able to take your exit.

So, you attributed his low energy to being sun-tired and talked-out. In retrospect, you should’ve known that it was more than fatigue from how Charles failed to put his hand on your thigh as he drove, and how he sat through slow-crawling traffic without ever moving to turn on music or talk. Your weariness prevented you from prodding further when the Monegasque responded with a nearly inaudible hum when asked if he was tired—the lack of presence in his answer felt like confirmation.

Yet, you realize it wasn’t an answer at all when you entered your home.

Your comments and questions about the match and dinner plans were met with one-word answers and off-timed hums of indifference in response. It’s not until the two of you are in your bedroom getting unready that Charles speaks more than a single word.

“Stefanos was nice, wasn’t he?” 

You pause in your action of taking off an earring, a puzzled tilt to your brow at the odd tone his words took, eyes examining him in the reflection of your vanity’s mirror. He stares down at his forearm as he unclasps his watch, his expression unreadable from his side profile. 

“Yes…he was,” you answer slowly, your confusion growing as you see Charles’ jaw clench, “I didn’t imagine him to be so, normal, I guess? After winning the Monte Carlo Masters, of all things. And, he’s done it three times! I mean, that’s incredible, no? For him to be so friendly and relaxed after was nice, I think.”

You rambled endlessly, the feeling that you’ve talked yourself into a corner flaring at the base of your skull. Charles turned to face you fully, shrugging his suit jacket off and calmly placing it on top of the dresser, rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt before he leaned to rest against the furniture as well.

“Ah,” the hair on the nape of your neck rises at the sound, you continue to remove your necklaces with hesitant fingers, “Did he charm you into being your favorite tennis player today, mon amour?”

A humorous scoff escapes your lips, “You know I’m not a fan of tennis. But, if there happens to be a match playing within my view, and he’s playing, I suppose I would want him to win. I wouldn’t say I was ‘charmed,’ I just think he’s a nice man.”

“I think you were too nice to him.”

You slowly place your diamond-studded, golden tennis chain away before your eyes flicker back to meet Charles’ in the reflection of the mirror. You raise a brow, unsure how to respond to his statement. Intelligently, you’ve deduced that he’s jealous, which is odd—considering he’s Charles Leclerc, the prettiest, sweetest, and kindest man on the face of the Earth, in your humble opinion. Stefanos doesn’t hold a candle compared to your boyfriend. Your fingers struggle to undo the clasp of your final necklace; the gold, diamond-paved, Cartier necklace with Charles’ name carved on the back—it was expensive enough that he refused to tell you the price when he gifted it, only saying that “the cost was nothing compared to the love he has for you,” the smooth-talker.

“Arrête,” he speaks firmly, pushing off the dresser and making his way towards you, his dress shoes clicking on the floor sending your heartbeat racing. He stops mere centimeters behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back.

“Leave it on,” he murmurs, darkened eyes running over your form in the mirror indulgently. 

You do as he says, arms shakily lowering to rest at your sides, fingers tugging at the hem of your sundress as your heart skips and body flushes with heat. The Monegasque reaches around you to center the necklace on your clavicle, the sensation of his fingertips barely ghosting across your brown skin has your mouth parting with an inaudible gasp.

“If only he knew that you wear my name locked around your neck,” the brunette pondered aloud, “Maybe then he would remember that your pretty eyes, sweet giggles, and flirty words are for me—since you seemed to forget.”

“I was not f-flirting with him!” You stutter over the word as if it were an insult.

“You were not,” Charles sounds like he agrees, “But, you know very well that people mistake your kindness as more than that. It’s happened before, no?”

It has happened before. More than you can count. The number of men who mistake politeness and your overall niceness for interest is frightening; you don’t want anybody but Charles.

“What was I supposed to say to Stefanos? Nothing? Should I have just ignored him? And stood at your side quietly like I was just there for decoration?” Your tone peaks with annoyance, heated at the idea of being reduced to an accessory.

“No,” his voice cuts through your train of thought, “You should’ve agreed with me when I mentioned we needed to leave after he said ‘the only thing he’s missing to celebrate is a beautiful woman’ as he stared directly at you—instead of forcing me to stay for another twenty minutes to talk.”

Your mouth drops open disbelievingly, a scoff following a few moments later when you slowly realize that Stefanos wasn’t interested in being set up with one of your friends as he asked. You should’ve known when he asked if you had a twin sister he could meet.

“Okay, in hindsight, I can see that he was flirting,” you clarify, “But, I definitely was not. You know in that entire conversation, I was just being polite—and I made you stay for longer because the Prince wanted to talk to you. Not because I was entertaining a man who doesn’t respect my relationship with you!”

“You were being polite when he kissed your hand?”

“Yes! I thought that was just him laying it on thick?”

“He’s not royalty,” Charles snorts, “The only person allowed to put their lips on you is me.”

“You keep talking about who’s ‘allowed’ to do anything to me and you’ll very quickly find out that I’m ‘allowed’ to reconsider this relationship if you continue speaking about me as if you own me.”

“I don’t own you,” Charles pauses, and a smile spreads across his lips, dimples deepening in his cheeks, nearly forcing you to forget your previous statement as you admire them in the vanity mirror, “But—you own me.”

You turn around quickly at the words, breath stuttering at the lack of space between you two. Tilting your head upwards, you examine your boyfriend’s face with narrowed eyes and cheeks burning so hot the red flush is apparent. His smile has softened to a smirk, his eyebrows laced with a smug undertone, his pupils blown wide enough for you to have to focus to see the green ring around them. You languidly raise a hand to trace a finger across the edge of his jawline, then cupping your hand along the side of his face, gently resting your thumb in the indent of his dimple. Your chest tightens when Charles leans into your palm, slowly shifting to press a kiss on your wrist before nudging you back to holding his face.

Sighing gently, you shake your head, “What do you want from me?”

“Je veux que tu me laisses baiser ma jalousie sur toi, s'il te plaît.”

“S-say it slower please,” you request meekly, “I think I heard you wrong.”

“I want you to let me fuck my jealousy out,” Charles emphasizes each word slowly, his tone becoming teasing as he sees you fluster with each added syllable, “Ple–”

Your lips meet his desperately, your other hand flying upwards to grasp at his shoulder when you feel his laughter through the kiss. You’re sure his amusement is multiplied as you try to dominate the kiss, even as you rise on the tips of your toes and arch your body towards his. Needily, you whine into his mouth as he refuses to meet your rushed rhythm, digging your nails into the meat of his broad shoulders to convey your urgency.

The Monegasques’ hold on your waist turns rough and you pull backward with a gasp when he pinches the skin of your arm. You glower at him in displeasure but it’s quick to fade as he guides you back to his lips with a heavy hand on the nape of your neck. His thumb and pointer finger are weighted from their position at the base of your skull, directing the tilt and movement of your head as he licks into your mouth and bruises your swollen lips further with pressure and stings of teeth.

He walks himself backward, one hand firm on your hip to guide you with him, the other rucking up the skirt of your sundress and sliding underneath to tug your panties down your legs with ease. You kick the fabric off your ankles distractedly, falling to straddle Charles’ lap as soon as he sits on the edge of the bed. His hand slips between the cradle of your thighs, cupping along your warmth and toying within your folds.

“Wet for me already,” he discovers delightedly, breaking the kiss to suck a mark into the sensitive skin behind your left ear and peppering more nips and teases of teeth down the stretch of your neck. Hisses of pleasure slip from your parted lips and you slant your hips forward to guide Charles’ fingers inside. You exhale breathily at the slide of a single finger in your cunt, rolling down onto his hand when you deem his pace too slow.

“Another, please,” you beg, moaning throatily when your boyfriend fulfills your plea without hesitation.

Two fingers turn into three, and three fingers turn into Charles flipping you over and pushing you into the bed so he can hover over you. With rushed hands, you both shove the zipper of his slacks and the hem of his briefs low for him to slip his cock out and press into you. The brunette shudders as he sinks within your depths, falling to his elbows, your moans and gasps of breath spilling into the same pocket of air when his hips rest against the back of your thighs. 

“M-move, please, Cha,” you cry, knees pressing into his sides and body rolling upwards to get a glimpse of friction during his stillness.

Charles drops his head to quiet you with a chaste kiss before matching the rhythm of your rocking hips, his rumbling groans quieted by your lips. He holds himself steady on one arm while he uses the other to reach above your head and drag a pillow downwards, tapping your ass briefly to wordlessly command you into rising upwards as he slips the cushion underneath you. As soon as the pillow is properly positioned, Charles’ slow grinds are exchanged for slamming thrusts, sharp flares of pain-dipped pleasure shooting up your spine and tightening the knot in your navel. Your breath is lost quickly and you struggle to recover, eyes screwing shut and exhales of expletives and whimpers of encouragement are all you can offer.

The Monegasque roughly slides his hand down your leg and grasps you by the ankle digging into the small of his back to keep him close, moving it to rest over his shoulder, and letting his hand fall to squeeze at your thigh for purchase as the change of position tightens the fluttering channel of your cunt around him. This angle feels like he’s digging deeper inside you; one of your hands scrambling to drag your nails down his toned back while the other fists in his hair as you shriek high-pitched into the heated air between your bodies.

“All mine,” you can feel the possessive lilt to his tone rumble through the thin skin of your throat as he sucks along the rapid beat of your pulse. Your nails decorate his back with red scores and it has Charles biting out sharp putain’s and rabbiting his cock into you forcefully, yet remaining conscious enough to realign his thrusts as he bullies his way inside of you to pound against your g-spot. His leaned forward position stretches the limits of your comfortable flexibility, but it allows his pelvis to barely scrape against your clit, sending a wave of overstimulating pleasure to your brain, your eyes rolling as the sensation knocks any form of rational thought from your brain.

He pauses to tug the front of your dress down, the hem tucked under the spill of your breasts. His fingers flick teasingly over a pebbled nipple while he folds himself lower to drag his tongue against the other and nip small marks around your areola. You fight against the assault on your chest; arching your back towards and away from him—chasing and running away from the pleasure simultaneously, yet you continue to grind onto his cock.

“Charles, f-fuck, lemme–uhuh—lemme ride ‘ou,” you whine out incoherently, pushing at his shoulder with a closed fist, hoping he’ll understand your slurred words as your tongue begins to feel heavy.

Your boyfriend pulls away from your breasts in question, panting roughly as he stares up at you to see a pure look of want in your dampened eyes,  lashes clumped together and brown skin flushing deeper when the eye contact is held unendingly. You know that Charles debated denying your request, or at least thought about making you beg for it, but he decides to kneel and drag you upwards into his lap without a fight. He allows you a brief respite to adjust your legs and anchor your arms over his shoulders, then tightens the hold of his hands on your waist, fingertips sure to leave indents as he assists your first upward motion, before solidly dragging you back down. 

The strength you regained in your legs from the short break disappears, knees weakening and body slumping into Charles’ chest, your head drooping to rest in the crook of his neck. 

Charles steadies your head and tilts you back gently, checking in, “Is this too much, mon amour? We can stop.”

“No,” you murmur, “You fucked the feeling out of my legs, Cha.”

He laughs warmly, situating his hands on your ass to direct your motions, the tone of his voice light as he coos, “‘s okay, mon coeur—I’ll do all the work.”

You brush your nose along his, moaning softly at the sweetened drag of his cock. Charles chases your bitten lips, groaning lowly as he deepens his thrusts, fingers dipping to circle your clit—always ensuring your release is prioritized. Your thighs begin to shake and his thrusts skip beats as he begins to near the precipice as well. Shuddering, you gasp into his mouth, attempting to alert him to your nearing orgasm but you’re unable to speak the words.

“It’s okay, mon amour,” your boyfriend soothes, “Cum for me—I’ve got you.”

“yesyesyes,” you babble mindlessly, Charles continuing to pound into you, not slowing the search for his release now that you’re orgasm is imminent. A few well-angled jabs of your g-spot and you’re gone; release frying your nerve endings and vision blurring as your boyfriend continues to ride your high to its very end. 

The Monegasque pulls out the moment your hips fight his hold, dropping his hand drenched with your pleasure from your clit to grab his cock, and with one stroke, he spills. Charles paints your navel and inner thighs white with whimpering moans, and lilted French. He milks himself into over-sensitivity, only stopping when the orgasmic relief shifts into pain. He kisses you on the cheek as he drags a finger through his cum pooled between your thighs. His hand rises to your mouth and he hums approvingly as your lips part and suckle his spend clean off.  

“Hm,” Charles sounds, staring down at the claim he’s spilled, his free hand rubbing his cum along your navel, “All mine.”

© httpsserene2024

[likeumeanit9497]

you jealous? | c.s. & m.s. |

chris sturniolo x reader x matt sturniolo

summary: y/n's secret fwb, chris, teaches her a lesson on sharing.

warnings: SMUTTTT; unprotected p in v; fingering; handjob; oral (f receiving); dirty talk; lowk toxic chris (srry); 2 boys 1 night ;); 18+

notes: hiiii guys!! sooooo i know i have been painfully inactive AGAIN over the past few weeks BUT I CAN EXPLAIN!!! so yes i got back from my trip at the start of aug, but i made a super stupid last minute decision to go back to college this fall, so i had to do all my applications, find a new place to live in a new city, AND move out of my old place all since i've been back. sooo i've been a bit busy hence why i haven't been able to write or post anything since the start of the month. BUT to make it up to u all i decided to write a fic for both the matt and chris girlies teehee. side note this is probably the closest i will ever get to a chris x matt x reader threesome okay i can't handle much more than this before it starts feeling weird af, BUT i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (can u tell the duo streams are making it hard for me to pick one straight triplet to thirst over for the week?? hope someone relates) love u all and can't wait to write some more nasty shit <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

As I walked through the front door at the party, I really didn’t know what to expect. Sure, the flashing lights, loud rap music, and the sinus-burning waft of alcohol that flooded my senses as soon as I opened the door were a given, but there was so much uncertainty in my life that the night was feeling almost surreal.

“There she is!” I heard Nick’s bellowing voice through the sea of people as I walked up the front steps and entered the living room. Nick was my best friend, and had been since him and his brothers moved to Los Angeles, and he had decided to throw a ‘small’ party for me when I told him that I got a promotion at my job. Nervous to have so much attention on me at once, I smiled sheepishly as he ran over to me with a bottle of tequila in his hand.

After squeezing me so hard that I thought my ribs might break, he waved the half-empty bottle in my face. “You look sober. You can’t be sober at your own party! Let’s go take some shots.” By his rushed speech and disheveled appearance, I could tell that he had been drinking for a while prior to my arrival. And he was right, I was sober, and with the number of eyes on me and unrecognizable people circling me, I knew I had to gain some liquid courage quick.

“I thought you said this was just going to be a small get together Nick, what happened?” I asked quietly as we reached the kitchen. He grabbed us two shot glasses from the stack sitting on the counter, and rushed to the fridge to grab me a High Noon before pouring the tequila. “It’s LA, Y/n, this is a small get together. And besides,” He handed me an overflowing shot glass, “Everyone loves you. Now hurry up and cheers me.” Rolling my eyes, I obliged; lifting my glass in the air and clinking it gently against his before bringing it to my lips and tilting my head back.

The first shot is always the worst, and this one was no exception. I felt the burn as it traveled down my throat and into my stomach, and I winced before finally giving in and chasing with the High Noon that Nick had grabbed for me. “Wooo!” Shouted Nick before pouring more tequila into our glasses. “Hold on, what are you doing?” I tried to protest by covering the top of my shot glass with my hand. Without hesitation, Nick swatted my hand away. “You need another silly. Everyone here has been drinking for hours.” Grumbling under my breath, I let him pour another one, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the person I was most anxious to see would make an appearance.

As if he had sensed my nerves, it was just then, as I was bringing my second shot to my lips, that I saw him walking up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hurriedly took my shot before chugging half of my drink at once in an attempt to calm my mind. I still had my drink at my lips when he noticed me; his droopy blue eyes scanning the room before they landed on mine. He smirked, soft pink lips curled up in a taunting manner, before waltzing over to where Nick and I were standing.

“Hey there.” He chirped, leaning against the counter just inches away from me. “Hey Chris.” I replied, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible as I felt his gaze burn into me. “When did you get in?” He asked as I continued to avoid eye contact. I took a sip of my drink. “Just a few minutes ago.” There was a silence between the three of us; the awkwardness so intense that I felt like I could explode. “Okayyyy, I’m gonna go say hi to a few people.” Nick stated before quickly rushing off to the living room, leaving me alone with Chris.

“So,” Began Chris, “Long time no see.” I felt him take a step closer to me before running his hand lightly across the small of my back. Reacting to his touch, I inhaled a sharp breath and my eyes shot to his. “Very funny.” I responded, my voice a low whisper as if anyone could hear our conversation above the loud music and steady chatter in the room. He chuckled, still rubbing my back discreetly. “I thought so.”

It had actually been less than 24 hours since I had seen Chris. Just the night before, my wrists had been tied to his headboard while my legs were wrapped around his waist. A few weeks ago, after a night at the bar with Nick, Chris and I had had rushed, sloppy sex on their living room couch when Matt and Nick were asleep. Since then, him and I had fucked at least a dozen more times without telling a soul. I couldn’t bear the thought of my best friend finding out that I was sleeping with his brother, and Chris couldn’t stand the thought of anyone knowing anything about his personal life. Plus, there was something so sexy about our little secret; and I worried that if anyone found out about what we had been doing, the adrenaline that flooded my veins every time he looked at me with that knowing gaze, or touched me covertly, would disappear.

Over the past few weeks, there had been moments when our secret was almost revealed. Like the one time, when I was changing in Nick’s room, when he saw the dark blue hickeys all across my chest and stomach. Or another time, when I rolled up my sleeves to wash my hands in the kitchen and Matt asked me about the marks on my wrists. Both times, I froze; but both times I was able to come up with little white lies on the spot. I had made up a fictional man — one that lived in another city and they certainly didn’t know — that I had been seeing, and after sharing perhaps too many explicit details, they had both believed me.

Other than that, there had been no other times where people seemed to have any inclination of what Chris and I had been doing — most likely because we hadn’t been around others since we started hooking up. Tonight was the first time that we were going to be drinking with a big group of people, hence why I had been so anxious about how the night might go.

“You wanna go downstairs?” Chris’ voice in my ear pulled me from my thoughts, and I felt that familiar jump in my stomach from the thought of being alone with him right now. However, I was still sober enough to remember that we had to be careful, so I took a moment and glanced around the room. Everyone seemed pretty drunk, but the night was still young, and it was too risky yet. So, I shook my head softly. “We can’t yet, let’s wait for it to get later.” I was whispering just like he had been, and I felt his hand move from my lower back down to my ass, where he cupped it and gave it a generous squeeze. “Got it.” He replied, before snaking off and leaving me alone in our corner of the kitchen. Sighing, I reached for the bottle of tequila that Nick left behind; pouring myself yet another shot. Tonight was gonna be a long night.

𓆩♡𓆪

After a few more shots and a couple High Noons, I was drunk. Unfortunately, it had done nothing to ease my nerves, because I had spent the past hour or so watching Chris get progressively closer to another girl. As I leaned against the kitchen table attempting to keep up a conversation with Matt, I watched as he went from innocently chatting with her, to draping his arm across the back of the couch where she was sitting, to him now; pulling her onto his lap as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

I tried to act as unbothered as possible, but it wasn’t easy. It’s not like I had any romantic feelings for Chris — him and I had both made it abundantly clear that it was just sex — but I couldn’t help but see red as I watched her run her hands through his messy curls as she rolled her hips on his lap. It was just that the sex that him and I were having was so good, I selfishly didn’t want anyone else to get it from him.

Groaning under my breath, I made an excuse and snuck away from Matt before walking to the fridge to grab one more drink. As I was rummaging through the fridge’s contents, I felt a warm hand brush against my bare leg. “You ready to sneak away now?” His words were hushed just like before, but I couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be serious.” I replied before closing the fridge and cracking open my drink. Now facing him, I noticed he had a confused expression across his face.

“What happened? Did that girl on the couch give you blue balls?” Even as I spoke, I recognized how stupid and bitter I sounded. A slight twinkle formed in Chris’ eyes, causing me to grow even more angry. “What are you talking about Y/n?” He asked, a small smile crossing his lips. I rolled my eyes, growing increasingly more angry. “The girl who’s tongue was just down your throat. What happened to her?” I asked, noticing how drunk I was sounding. Chris stared at me for a moment, before tilting his head slightly to the side. “You jealous?” He asked, and in that moment I wanted to smack him.

“Of course not,” I said, walking in the direction of Matt’s washroom in an attempt to escape this increasingly uncomfortable conversation, “But you’re crazy if you think you’re gonna come to me only when plan A fails.” Trying the door, I realized that the washroom was locked and I groaned. Chris had followed me down the hall, and now he had me cornered. Just as I was about to turn around and get past him back to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into Matt’s room.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed in a harsh whisper as my sense of sight was almost completely removed by the pitch-black darkness of the room. I heard the door slam shut behind me, but when I turned around, I could just barely see the outline of Chris’ frame standing just inches from me. Just then, I heard a low chuckle come from his direction. “I can’t believe my Y/n is jealous.” He said, taking a few more steps in my direction before grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him.

“You know that you’re my favourite girl baby,” He started, bringing a hand to my throat and squeezing gently. My head was tilted up, and in the poor lighting the only thing I could make out were his bright blue eyes reflecting my own nervous expression. “But you’ve gotta learn how to share.” Before I could even roll my eyes at his statement, I felt his warm thumb press against my lower lip; urging it open. With hitched breaths, I obliged; parting my lips and opening my mouth slightly.

With his hold on my neck, he tilted my head back even further and I felt, more than saw, his lips just centimetres from mine. Then, without warning, he spit a pool of his saliva into my mouth with expert precision, and at that moment all of my walls caved in. “Now be a good girl for me and get on Matt’s bed.”

With red hot arousal already coursing through me, I didn’t hesitate before rushing over to the unmade bed in the centre of the room. The sound of my racing heart in my ears and the rush of excitement that I was feeling was enough of a distraction from the fact that I was draping my body along a bed that didn’t belong to either Chris or I. The fact that almost anyone could walk in at any moment, and the view that I had once I faced Chris, was enough to cause my head to spin.

There, just in front of me, was a now-shirtless Chris. From my position on the bed, he was looming over me; and the smirk plastered to his face was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. My needy eyes trailed slowly down his body, first his chest; down to his stomach; then his waistband — wait, what’s that shiny thing in his hand?

As if he heard my thoughts, Chris dangled the object teasingly, allowing me to realize what it was — the silver handcuffs from his room. “Were you just carrying those around all night?” I asked, locking my eyes back on his. He shrugged. “Didn’t know when I was finally gonna be able to use them.” I rolled my eyes, but as I opened my mouth to deliver a snarky reply, I was abruptly cut off by his lips on mine.

Hungry, drunk lips moulded to mine — they tasted like him. All of my annoyance with him dissolved within an instant as he wasted no time in peeling my clothing from my body; only breaking the kiss for a moment as he pulled my shirt over my head in the space between us. Immediately, his hands flew to my lower half where he simply lifted my skirt to give himself access to his favourite part of my body.

He squeezed my ass so hard that it hurt in that deliciously erotic way. Pulling me onto his lap, I felt his growing member press against my aching core as he continued to massage my ass like it was a life source that he had been deprived of for years. Low moans passed through his lips as he indulged, and I felt my body begin to tremble in painful anticipation. “Chris.” I whined before subtly grinding my core against the part of him that I needed most in that moment. I felt his lips turn up into a smile. “What’s wrong Y/n?” His voice was playful but rough from arousal, “I could’ve fucked you hours ago, remember? Then you wouldn’t be so painfully worked up.” I groaned again, not caring how desperate I felt as I dragged my soaked core up and down his clothed shaft for the second time.

Chris used his harsh grip on my ass to lift me off of him, causing me to release a frustrated sigh from the lack of contact. That quickly changed once he slid my panties to the side and used his fingers to gingerly graze my aching centre. I released a soft hiss as his fingers reached my swollen clit; hoping more than anything that he would spend extra time there. He chuckled at my noises, but any care I might have had over that dissipated as his fingers drew rapid circles on my bundle of nerves.

Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, I had to bite hard on his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out profanities from the immediate pleasure that I felt circulating in my body just from his touch. “You know, Y/n,” Chris began, his words coming out choppy from his quick movements, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were turned on watching me with that other girl.” I stayed silent, feeling tears well up in my eyes in the same way that my orgasm was welling up in my lower stomach. With all the strength I had, I managed to shake my head weakly in response to Chris’ words; causing him to chuckle.

“You might not think so, in your mind, but your pussy is telling me something different.” Just then, two of his long fingers slipped effortlessly inside of me. Unable to hold back now, I released a sharp scream into his bruised shoulder. His fingers began moving in and out of me slowly, curling right up to my g-spot each time. “Oh yeah,” His fingers began picking up speed; filling the room with the sounds of my arousal, “You hear that? You’re pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, it’s giving away your deep dark secrets.”

Moans now fell from my lips carelessly as his actions and words brought me closer and closer to an earth shattering orgasm. Maybe he was right, maybe there was a part of me that loved the thought of him being with another girl. Maybe I liked the idea of watching from the sidelines as he touched, kissed, or even fucked other girls.

Or maybe I just loved the idea that, no matter how many other girls he’s with, he will never find a better fuck than me.

That was the last thought I had before my mind was overtaken by the tidal wave of my orgasm. Arching my back in pleasure, I moaned out profanities as Chris’ fingers worked my pulsing core. I felt my legs shake as the relentless euphoria tore through my body, until Chris quickly removed his fingers from my core, lifted me up off of his lap, and bent me over the side of the bed all in one motion.

The cool air against my soaked and exposed core caused me to gasp, but still I waited exactly where he placed me with trembling limbs as I anticipated his next move. The sharp sound of a zipper filled the dark room, and after a moment I felt the heat from Chris’ member press against my wetness. Immediately and without thinking, I began rolling my hips in a weak attempt at relieving the unyielding want deep inside of me, but a firm hand on my hip promptly stopped all movements. “Wait one minute, Y/n.” Chris said, and I heard the sound of metal clanking together before the ice cold handcuffs were placed around my wrists.

I felt my stomach do a flip just like it always did when Chris tied me up in any way that he could, and once he was content with their placement, he gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands as he used his other to line his shaft up with my opening. I felt his tip slide up and down my slick folds a handful of times, causing an anticipatory shiver to crawl up my spine, before the indescribable satisfaction of feeling his length stretch my walls caused me to sigh in relief. That satisfaction was quickly replaced by gritty need as Chris began slamming his cock deep into me at a relentless pace. His hand tightened around my wrist as he gained momentum, causing the harsh metal of the handcuffs to dig into my skin; increasing the pleasure that I was feeling.

The room was filled with the sounds of my ass slapping against his front, and I knew even without him saying anything that the view he had was driving him crazy. Just as expected, his hand dropped a sharp smack to my left ass cheek before gripping onto it ruthlessly. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me baby.” Chris’ voice was already deep and guttural, and I could tell that he wasn’t gonna last very long. Moaning in response, I bit onto the comforter beneath me to muffle the sound as I relished in the feeling of his cock hitting just the right spot on each harsh thrust.

“This is what you needed, huh? I knew by your attitude you were dyin’ for it.” His filthy talk was enough to send me another strong wave of vertigo, and I felt my restrained hands desperately try to grab onto him in any way so that I could stabilize myself. “You know this cock is yours,” Chris continued, both his movements and his voice now growing choppier, “But just because something is yours doesn’t mean you can’t share.” I felt my body begin to tense up, goosebumps raised on my skin as I felt my pleasure begin to boil over.

“Fuck, gonna cum baby.” Chris’ words were rushed, and as he spoke them he quickly pulled his swollen length out of my wincing core. After a few pumps in his hand, I felt his warm fluid shoot onto my back and collect in a small pool. As he came down from his high, I heard small grunts leave his mouth and I wanted nothing more than to use my own restrained hands to milk him dry. After a few moments of silence, both of us simply catching our breaths, Chris spoke. “Sorry, Y/n, I didn’t expect to cum so fast.” He massaged my ass with his hands as he spoke.

“It’s okay.” I replied, though the screaming need in between my legs was saying otherwise. “Get up on the bed and arch that back, I’ll get you there.” His words caused my body to quiver once again. Just as I was about to do as he told me, the shocking sound of a door opening caused me to freeze in place like a deer in headlights.

“Chris who the fuck are you talking to in my ro-”

The familiar voice filled the room and deafening silence immediately followed. Chris’ hands were still on my waist, and I felt my skin grow hot in embarrassment. In the heat of everything that had happened over the past little while, I had forgotten who’s room we were in. But now, that person’s voice pulled me back to reality, and I was reminded of the fact that my naked body had been pressed against his bed as I was fucked senseless by his brother.

Still, no one was speaking. My face was buried in the comforter, where I planned on keeping it in order to avoid facing the situation I found myself in. The silence felt like a fifty pound weight pressing against my bare back, and I prayed to the universe that someone was going to speak. Just then, I felt Chris shift behind me; placing a hand on the back of my neck and leaning towards my ear.

“I know how to share what’s mine. Watch this.”

His words sent chills down my spine, and that chill was exemplified once I felt the heat of his body move away from me. Through the pounding anxiety in my head, I was able to hear a few footsteps followed by an entire conversation performed in well-executed whispers. Chris and Matt spoke in hushed tones for what felt like hours as I continued to stay in the place that Chris had left me; my heart racing and breath heaving at the thought of what they might be talking about. Chris’ last statement was ominous, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher what he meant: he wanted to share me with Matt.

As they spoke to one another, I went over the idea of it in my head. It was wrong, for sure. I was already fucking one of my best friends’ brothers, but to fuck both of them in one night was too far. Plus, I had never had any interest in Matt before. Him and I were friends, sure, but not once had I considered doing anything more with him. Because I was already fucking his brother, and his other brother is my best friend. It was wrong, end of story.

But then why did I feel a new trickle of my own arousal fall down my leg at the thought of Matt’s eyes glued to my naked body right now?

I’m fucked.

“You okay, Y/n?” I heard Chris’ voice and it pulled me out of my trance. I knew what he meant by that. “Yes.” I replied, wincing at the desperation laced through my tone. A chuckle came in response, then the sound of the door opening — bringing with it bright lights and an increase in clarity of the constant party chatter — before it clicked shut; and then, silence.

I could hear nothing around me but my own heavy breathing, and if I didn’t know any better I would genuinely believe that I was alone in the room at last. But I did know better, because I could feel his tired blue eyes on my body. I still hadn’t moved, couldn’t move. My face was still buried deep in his comforter and I was too afraid to face him yet. My legs felt like jello, and I knew that if I wasn’t already bent over his bed, I would have collapsed by now.

Finally, I hear footsteps. They were slow, and I couldn’t tell which direction they were going, but he was finally moving. Next I heard the shuffling sound of some sort of fabric, then more footsteps. This time, I was sure they were heading for me. I was proven right when I felt the heat of his body behind me. Suddenly, I released a sharp gasp when I felt the soft material of a towel against my lower back. Matt wiped the pool of his brother’s cum off of my lower back in silence, and even the accidental brush of his knuckles against my clammy skin set me on fire.

“So, this was what those marks on your wrists were from.” He finally spoke, and his voice in this setting was so unfamiliar that I physically jumped. In my silence, he assumed I didn’t understand what he meant, so I felt him tap lightly on the metal around my wrists. “The handcuffs.” He clarified even further. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, trying to sound confident, “Yeah.” At that, I felt his hands travel around the perimeter of the cuffs, trying to find something, when suddenly I heard a faint click and my wrists were free.

Taking the cuffs completely off of me, he rubbed my aching wrists gently with both hands. Even this touch, one seemingly so innocent and caring, shot waves of pleasure to my core. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” His words grounded me for just a moment; reminding me that this is in fact real life, yet still I responded with zero hesitation. “I’m sure.”

Again, silence. But this time, it was accompanied by the remarkable feeling of Matt’s gentle fingers trailing down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “Turn around for me.” His voice had dropped an octave since he last spoke, and while it was still far from threatening, it was no longer the comforting tone he had used as he took my cuffs off.

The shame I had previously felt from the situation had been stripped off of me by his touch, so I barely hesitated before lifting my head off of the bed and turning my body so that I was now facing him. In the dark, the outline of his body looked nearly identical to his brother, but I was able to easily tell the difference. My body didn’t react in excited fear when I saw his frame, but instead it responded in anticipatory comfort; as if I knew I had nothing to be nervous about.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, I watched his chest rise and fall in silence for a moment. Unable to really see his eyes, I was unsure what he was looking at, but I knew he was looking at me. Just then, I watched as he climbed onto his bed, meeting me where I was. He leaned so close to me that I had to allow my head to fall back against the comforter. Now laying on top of me, using one arm to brace his weight, I suddenly felt the lust seeping out of his veins just before his lips attached to mine.

His lips were slightly softer, and slightly fuller than Chris’, and they moved with just the slightest bit more apprehension for a moment. That quickly dissipated, however, as after just a few short moments I felt his tongue run against my lower lip; begging for access to my mouth. I obliged, and relished in the new and exciting taste of him. His lips were cold — the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his skin told me that was because he had just been outside — and they felt amazing against my own hot, swollen lips. As I felt one of his hands snake up to my chest, I released a soft moan. My pleasure began to double, and then triple, when I felt him squeeze my tit and run a thumb along my hardened nipple before doing the exact same to the other one.

Having complete access to my hands for the first time in what felt like forever, I used that to my advantage and began exploring Matt’s body. His frame was slightly thinner than Chris’, and I relished in the feeling of a raised, fresh tattoo against my fingers as I traveled down his arm. Reaching his waist, I grazed my hand against his clothed member; already painfully hard and pressing against his jeans. As I palmed it a few times, Matt released a soft moan in my ear before moving his mouth down to my left tit; swirling his slippery tongue against my nipple and causing me to shutter in pleasure. After taking his time with the left, he moved his mouth to the right. While Chris’ favourite part of my body is my ass, clearly Matt has found his own personal favourite.

While the feeling of his mouth on my tit was already causing my head to spin, I desperately needed more. I fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans, before slowly pulling them down his legs and hopefully granting his member some relief. With his mouth still on my tit, Matt helped me by pulling them down the rest of the way, along with his boxers. Once his boxers were off and his cock was able to spring free, I immediately grabbed it in my hand and began pumping up and down. Another soft groan left his lips, and the vibration from it against my sensitive nipples caused me to moan in reply.

As I pumped his member in my hand, I felt his own hand trail down my body before finally landing on the place where I needed it the most. As if he knew my body by heart, Matt found my clit in seconds and wasted no time before rubbing it at the same pace that I was jerking him off at. His mouth detached from my tit and found mine, but in our world of equal pleasure the kiss was sloppy; our mouths fell open at times and tongues swiped in and out mindlessly.

“Y-you feel good?” Asked Matt, his voice soft and choppy at the same time. Nodding my head, I widened my legs with the desperation of needing more. “Want to feel all of y-you Matt.” I whispered, opening my eyes and finally meeting his. In the dim light, they were glossed over. His pupils were so dilated that, if I didn’t know him before, I would have assumed his eyes were brown. He blinked at me for a quick moment, but didn’t make me wait long before positioning himself in between my legs.

I watched in awe as his body hovered over mine. I flinched slightly as he lined his member up to my opening; my core still slightly sore from a few minutes ago. Noticing, Matt looks back up at me. “I’ll go slow, okay?” Nodding, I drop my jaw as Matt sinks into me, keeping true to his word but still bottoming out. I felt every inch of him stretch me out, and as he stayed still to allow me a moment to adjust to him, I couldn’t help but release a frustrated moan. As if he has been in tune with my needs for years, Matt takes this simple remark for what it means, and slowly began thrusting into me.

Although his pace is slow, his shaft pleasures what seems like every nerve inside of me before finally reaching my spongey g-spot with a quick snap on each thrust. His movements are so pleasurable it’s almost excruciating, and I struggle to keep the moans from falling helplessly from my mouth. What’s more, is that even with my eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, I can feel his eyes on my face, taking in every expression and hushed sound that I make. “You want more?” He asks, his voice in a strained whisper. I shake my head. “N-no. Keep going just like that, please.” I reply, and I release a breathy moan when I feel him wrap my legs around his waist before continuing in the same unbeatable rhythm.

I run my hands through his dark brown hair, before allowing them to rest on the nape of his neck. I relished in the feeling of his back muscles tensing on each meticulously controlled thrust, before pulling his head down so that I could kiss him. Normally, I’m not someone who cares much about kissing during sex, but there was something about the deprivation and tenderness of his soft kiss that seemed to bring me even closer to an orgasm than his cock did. As he kissed me, his pace never wavered, but I could tell by the soft grunts falling from his lips that he was getting close.

As if reading my mind, he suddenly pulled out of me and I felt him shift on the bed. Thinking that he was about to cum on my stomach and that I was going to once again be deprived of an orgasm, I felt embarrassing tears well up in my eyes. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the sudden feeling of his tongue twirling skillfully against my clit. My hands immediately flew to his hair, and I was no longer capable of holding back the moans that fell from my lips. As he continued eating my pussy, he slid two fingers into my core and began pumping them the exact same way he pumped his cock into me just moments before.

In that moment, I was in total euphoria. I was sure that my knuckles were turning white from the death grip that I had on Matt’s hair, just as I was sure that if anyone was on the other side of the bedroom door — or, in the bathroom for that matter — they would definitely hear the filth that was falling from my mouth. But I had lost the ability to care, because all of my thoughts were highjacked by the unutterable levels of pleasure that were surging through my body in that moment.

And what made everything that much more intense, was the fact that Matt so clearly loved what he was doing to me. Every few seconds, I felt a deep moan fall from his mouth and vibrate off of my bundle of nerves, and in the off chance that I had my eyes open, watching him, I noticed him grinding his hips against his bed to gain some sort of relief. “I-I — oh fuck! — Matt, I’m c-close!” I exclaimed, feeling the waves of my orgasm rise threateningly close to the surface.

At my proclamation, Matt moved in one swift motion and slid his cock back into me. His pace was the same as it was before, but this time his thumb found my swollen clit and he began rubbing it quickly. “Gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” My legs were back around his waist, and my fingers were digging into his shoulder blades as I struggled to gather my thoughts. “Anywhere you want Matt!” My words breathless and exclamatory, I was barely able to get them out before an indescribable orgasm tore through my body.

I might have truly screamed out in pleasure, and dug my nails into Matt’s skin so far that he bled, but I have no way of knowing for sure — I had lost all of my senses through the overwhelming waves of pleasure. All I remember is feeling as if the pressure that had been building up inside of me for so long had been too much, and my brain had exploded. For what could have been minutes or hours — but which was probably only a few seconds — I truly thought that I might have died. But then, suddenly, I was back in my body, and it was convulsing uncontrollably through a life altering orgasm.

When I came back to my senses, Matt had his damp forehead resting against mine. His body had stilled above me, but I could feel his member twitching inside of me; painting my walls in his signature shade of white. Both of our breathing was ragged as if we had both just completed a marathon, and we both stayed still, in complete silence, as we came down from our highs.

After a few moments, Matt placed a soft kiss to my forehead before slowly removing himself from my centre. I watched him walk over to where he had discarded the towel, picking it up and bringing it over to me to help me clean myself up. So far neither of us had spoken, but I didn’t care very much as my mind was still not fully connected to my body. Finally, he spoke. “You still feel okay about this?” He asked as he began putting his clothes on. I smiled, almost laughing at the absurdity of the caution in his words. “I feel more than okay Matt.” I replied, to which he released a small laugh before handing me my shirt.

Once I was dressed, I managed to get myself to my feet. Standing at the edge of the bed, I suddenly felt nervous about walking back out into the party after being gone for so long. As if he read my mind once again, Matt walked to the door first. “I’ll head out first, then you can come out in a few minutes.” I laughed nervously but nodded. “Sounds good. See you out there.” I watched as his hand reached for the door knob before turning back to the bed to find my phone.

“Oh and Y/n?” I faced him again, “Chris might be good at sharing, but I’m not.”

His words made my already unsteady knees wobbly, and I dropped back onto the bed once he closed the bedroom door behind him. All at once, every moment of the night hit me like a freight train, and I finally realized what happened. I fucked Matt. Just a few hours ago, I was pretending to have a normal conversation with him as I was green with envy watching Chris make out with that girl. I had never planned on doing anything even close to what I had done with him, yet here I am, sitting on his bed. I close my eyes. I can still feel him inside of me. He was so good. But Chris was also sogood. Both of my best friends’ triplet brothers. How did I get here?

I’m fucked.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[bluetimeombre]

: ̗̀➛ Call it what you want to

You're an up-coming star, staring in some hit movies like Hunger games Ballad of songbirds and snakes and now Wonka, along the Timothee Chalamet.

[i'm obsessed with my man and just need to ignore the fact he's dating someone that isn't me. anyway, you're an up-coming actress who stared in the new hunger games movie and now you're also staring in wonka, the people love you and maybe, so does a co-star of yours] not proof read. this was very fun to write so maybe i'll do more, if anyone likes it. or just for me

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tayrussell, joshandresrivera, tomblyth, sadiesink_, tchalamet & others

yourusername: wonka press tour starts now!

809k likes. 304k comments

user: wait, you're in wonka?!

user: I LOVE YOU!!

user: mother giving us content, as always

tchalamet: now you've posted can you come up and help me

yourusername: no

tchalamet: pls!!!

user: omg she really said no to timothee chalamet, who does she thin she is?

user: slayyyy

user: isn't wonka supposed to suck

tomblyth: from one press tour to another, i see

yourusername: girls got to earn a living

tomblyth: she doesn't let the grass grow

user: say hi to timothee for me!!!!

user: omg how is she getting all the hottest guys in hollywood rn? gurl leave some for us

wonkamovie: 😍😍

balladofsongbirdsandsnakes: 😍😍😍

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

you were flicking through comments by your friends when your phone started to ring, the familiar picture of your co-star flicking up on your phone. quickly, you dimissed yourself from your assistant and took the call. 'yes?'

'I need your help.'

'Timothee, you're old enough to zip up your own jacket,' you tease, leaning on the wall.

'I don't know what jumper to wear, what are you wearing? we'll coordinate.'

you'd opted for something of your own style. a jumper with pinks and blues and a white flowering skirt with a ring almost on every finger. this was only your second big press tour and sitting next to timothee chalamet every day for it was enough to make you nervous. so nervous you woke every morning wondering if you'd throw up. it didn't help you were also surrounded by others you'd looked up to, like olivia coleman and hugh grant. how were you supposed to keep your cool for months. even if now you were considered just as big a star.

'don't you have a stylist for this?' you ask, looking at the crew around, ready to go but waiting for him.

'there's three options and i don't know which one to go for. can't you just come up.'

you could, sure. go to timothee's hotel room and see him probably shirtless. once you'd have dreamt of it, but things were different, now you just didn't have a silly celebrity crush. now he was your co-star and very off limits.

'option two now come on, please.' quickly, you end the call and pick up your coffee, heading to the room where you'd be sat for the next eight hours answering questions with timothee.

you were there first, shaking hands with the interviewer and introducing yourself to her. you took your seat, making little chatter before timothee chalamet walked in, calm, cool and collected. completely different to your flushed and smiling expression.

you watched as he quickly said hello to everyone in the room and greeted the lady who'd be conducting the interview.

timothee turned to you, arms out wide and waiting. laughing, you put your coffee down and stood up, giving him a hug. you shared small pleasantries before he took his seat next to you, shuffling around and settling in. only then did you realise how much your jumpers looked the same, both smudges of similar colours. you blushed more as timothee watched, silently wondering what could make you so red. as if he had no idea what he did to you just by sitting down next to him.

'I have had scrub scrub stuck in my head since seeing the movie,' she- charline, said as you and timothee laugh. 'do you guys have a favourite song you got to perform?'

'I mean, pure imagination was quite a surreal experience. you know, getting to sing something that was so ... iconic, it was-it was a lot of fun. and a lot of pressure, but, in a good way,' said timothee.

'you killed it,' you assure, casually.

'thank you,' he smiled.

'i really enjoyed you've never had chocolate like this number. that was just so fun, the dancing and all,' you say, timothee nodding and agreeing.

'for a moment was fun to, i guess,' added timothee. 'we got to dance.'

you grin at the memory. 'we did.' you remembered the a million takes, timothee singing practically to you while prancing around. it was your favourite scene to shoot because it was such an easy and happy scene. you didn't have to think about it, just held timmy's hand as he twirled you around the place.

'and i know we're here to talk about wonka but i just have to say-' she gestured to you, 'congratulations on hunger games, biggest movie in the world.'

you wave her off, thanking her as timmy claps for you. 'thank you, thank you.'

'i was wondering what was your favourite song to film there on that set and how does it compare to singing on this one.'

ranting about yourself or your achievements was always hard for you. your stardom and come so quickly with hunger games and wonka, so much so you felt like you didn't deserve half of it.

'i mean, for hunger games it was all live. i sang them there and then so that's daunting in itself, um. i loved filming pure as the driven snow, just because i got to- essentially- sing it to tom. it was just him and me and the crew, like for those shots there was no extra's so that was great fun. a special moment. and singing it to him made it a whole lot easier. whereas on this movie, luckily it was all like pre-recorded so, not so daunting. didn't have to sing in front of timothee chalamet,' you say.

he listened carefully to you, seeing your smile at mentioning tom blyth, your co-star from the hunger games. he'd never met the guy, he was probably lovely- from the amount you talked about him. 'you've got a great singing voice.'

'thanks man.'

'this cast is just so insane and obviously you two got close during filming,' says charline, gesturing to the two of you.

timothee nudged you with his head, like he'd done a thousand times before knowing how much you secretly loved it. just like a horse, as had been quoted.

'who's more british, olivia or hugh?'

'hugh, easily,' you say. you loved all of hugh's movies, but you'd never say that to his face.

'you know, i'm gonna go and say you,' says timothee, turning to you.

you drop you jaw, pointing to yourself. yes, you were british, but more so than than the hugh grant seemed impossible. 'me?'

'yea, i mean, hugh grant is like a walking union jack- and i mean that in the best way possible, but you seem so much more like british. you know, wicked sense of humor and the charm and- you love london,' he pointed out.

'i do love london,' you agreed.

'did you have fun filming in england, timothee?' she asked.

they want on and on to talk about filming the movie, answering questions in depth and it was sure the two of you had great answers, listening intently together and everyone could tell. your chemistry was there, your smiles and answers together were almost so perfect it was like it was practiced and the fans ate it up!

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... zendaya, mtv, kyliejenner, yourusername, wbpictures & others

tchamalmet: WONKA!!! coming soon

tagged: yourusername

1.1m likes, 609k comments

user: he posted! he posted!

user: we are getting FED

user: i just know this is all yourusername influence

user: not kylie liking...

user: statistics! statistics!

liked by yourusername

yourusername: bring back little timmy tim!

yourusername: out of all the pictures you chose that one

user: anyone else think her and timmy are getting too close

user: like fr she stealin my man

user: i love them!!!

user: i swear something is going on with her and tom blyth

user: she's just like us!

user: LOVE!!!!!

user: her and timmy >>> him and kylie

user: plssss, i love kylie

user: is wonka a musical

user: TIMMY I WANT TO HAVE YOUR CHILDREN!!!

user: fave bob dylan song?

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tomblyth, rachelzeglar, tchalamet, hunterschafer, zendaya & others

yourusername: ballad of song birds and snakes is number one movie? more like i'm the number one most grateful person out there for this chance and being trusted with my girl lucy-grey!!! thank you, thank you, thank you!!

tagged: tomblyth

1m likes 477k comments

tomblyth: lots of love my dear !

user: pls the second picture was so unncesary she just wanted to post it

user: MOTHER

user: parents are parenting

user: I LOVED THIS FILM

user: tom blyth is honestly so hot like wtf

rachelzeglar: my luv &lt;3

yourusername: omg my gf everybody!!!!

joshandresrivera: funny how you don't post a picture of me

yourusername: it's funny because i don't like you

joshandresrivera: tomblyth you gonna let her talk to me like that??

tomblyth: she's the boss

user: how is she so amazing in everything

user: wonder how she got this job? she's literally as plain as a plank

user: hi!

user: the film was insane, i'm obsessed

user: i need this film injected into my veins

user: she's so good at singing, get her on broadway!!!

tchalamet: very proud

yourusername liked tchalamet's comment

user: why would you post the second pic unless they're clearly dating

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

user: pls why do i ship them so hard!!

user: lol it looks like he's just refusing to answer questions without her

user: is nobody gonna talk about how they were basically wearing the same jumpers?

user: no because i thought the exact same thing

user: someone pointed it out in an interview and timothee said it was 100% planned, they're so cute

user: doesn't he have a girlfriend?

user: isn't she with tom blyth? they look like they're together?

user: they haven't confirmed it

user: they don't need to did you see her post on instagram?! it was all just him

user: no but the way she's just constantly blushing around him

user: so would you if you were sat next to the timothee chalamet

[pedroscurls]

Hugh x reader actress. Both live their relationship out of the spotlight, trying to keep it professional every time they're at some Hollywood event in front of the camera, but Hugh can't stop eyeing his girl in a tight dress during the party organized for the success of his latest movie.

mesmerized from afar (one-shot)

summary: despite your relationship with hugh being out in the open, you both still do your best to keep it professional in the public eye... until hugh makes it very obvious during a hollywood event. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: fluff, teasing, sexual tension, hugh can't keep his eyes (and hands) off of you, no use of y/n word count: 2.2k a/n: to the anon who sent this request in, i also am sorry it took me so long to write this!!! i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it bc i love this dynamic of hugh not being able to contain himself during an event. as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

“I’ll see you at the red carpet?” Hugh asks from over the phone. You had just landed in New York and figured it’d be best to just get ready at your place instead of meeting him at his. You know that you’re going to be about half an hour late, but you don’t have to be there on time. The event was for Deadpool & Wolverine, a party to celebrate the success of the movie. 

“Yeah, baby. I just got to my place. I’ll be there.” 

“Okay, honey. Pack a bag, yeah?” 

You bite your lower lip and smile, already having had a packed duffle bag to bring with you. “Yes, Hugh,” you laugh quietly. “We did already discuss that I’d be spending the weekend with you.”

“Good, good,” he replies. “Missed you a lot.” 

“Me too, baby,” you say softly. “Can’t wait to just spend time with you.” 

Hugh sighs from the other end. “Alright, baby. I’ll let you go and get ready. I’ll see you in a bit. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Hugh,” you smile. Hearing those words from him will never get old and despite being in a relationship with him for over a year now, you both like to keep your relationship as private as you both can. It isn’t a secret that you’re together, but you both had talked about keeping things professional in the public eye. Though, neither of you can escape the paparazzi pictures of the photographs that fans have taken of you when you’re both out and about in the city with each other. 

You also rarely go to events together, never arriving at the same time and never walking the red carpet side by side. You both have done a good job at keeping things away from the public eye, only giving them a glimpse into your relationship with pictures posted on your social media. It helps strengthen your relationship with Hugh, not revealing so much to the media and keeping the most intimate aspects of your relationship amongst one another. 

You’re still relatively new in the industry, having had your big break in a film that won you best actress a few years ago. You’re lucky enough to have Hugh and even Ryan and Blake to guide you in this new world that you still haven’t gotten used to. 

You see a text message from Blake, smiling to yourself when she said that she was going to come over to help you get ready. It isn’t a secret that you still aren’t familiar with the formality of these events because you still pay for your own dresses and still do your own hair and makeup. You’ve received a lot of messages from designers who would like for you to wear their dresses, but it just never felt like you. You were simple. Always have been, always will. 

So instead of agreeing and accepting Blake’s offer, you send her a quick text to let her know that you’re almost finished getting ready. It’s mainly a lie– you haven’t even showered yet, but you at least have your dress laid out on your bed. 

You have two hours to get to the event, so you send a quick text to let Hugh know that you can’t wait to see him. His reply comes almost instantly, sending you a simple heart emoji. 

—

An hour and a half later, you’re standing in front of your full body mirror with a satisfied expression on your face. You’re wearing a full length, navy blue dress with spaghetti straps resting on your shoulders, trailing into a tailored silhouette where the fabric clings to every curve. You bite your lower lip, the sweetheart neckline and empire waist fitting so well with your frame. You turn slightly, looking over your shoulder to see the deep v-open styled back with a high slit on the left side of the dress, revealing your exposed thigh as the bottom of the dress sculpts into a mermaid skirt. It’s elegant, yet sexy. 

Your makeup remains light, neutral with your hair in loose waves and pinned back away from your face. Grabbing your bag, you hear your phone go off to let you know that your driver is waiting downstairs to take you to the event. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. Red carpet events still make you anxious, the flashes of the camera, talking with reporters – all of it was still another aspect of this new life that you hadn’t gotten used to yet. The fans, however, you feel more at home and at ease with them, always taking the time to speak with each other and provide your full undivided attention to them. 

You climb into the backseat of the car, immediately making conversation with the driver as you send a text to Hugh that you’re on your way. Fifteen minutes later and you feel the car stop at the end of the red carpet. You can hear the screams, can hear your name being called from outside and when you step out, you take a deep breath and put on a smile despite the nerves you feel in the pit of your stomach. 

Your publicist leads you to the carpet, motioning for you to stand on the first mark as you pose for the cameras, waving to the fans that scream your name with excitement. You turn your head and immediately meet eyes with Hugh, who’s standing very far from you as he’s speaking with a reporter. 

You walk to each marker, taking the time to pose for the photographers. You want so badly to run up to Hugh, to be pulled into his arms, but you refrain from doing so. You try to remind yourself that you need to remain professional, but you can’t help but notice the way he’s looking at you. Even while he’s talking with the reporters, his eyes never leave you. 

The moment Hugh heard your name being called, his attention was pulled from the person he was speaking to. He glanced over at the end of the red carpet, his breath being taken away once you stepped out. Hugh clears his throat at the sight of you, the dress that clings to perfectly to each curve that he’s so familiar with, and your smile that makes his heart race even faster. There’s a kindness behind your eyes that he had fallen in love with and despite knowing that this – red carpet events – aren’t something you’re too keen on, you still display such grace and elegance. 

He feels a hand clasp his shoulder and Hugh has to tear his eyes away from you to look over to see Ryan standing next to him, apologizing to the woman with the microphone. 

“I’m so sorry for my friend here,” Ryan grins, eyes glancing over in your direction. “He just gets so distracted.” 

“Well, can you blame me?” Hugh chuckles, pointing at you. “I mean, look at her. She looks amazing.” 

The woman nods in agreement and then looks over at Hugh and Ryan. “The fans want to know, Hugh,” she begins. “How come you both never come to these things together? We know you’re both in a relationship, so…”

“Ah,” Hugh smiles. “The million dollar question.” 

“Well, let’s keep that a secret,” Ryan interjects. “Now, if you’d excuse us…”

Ryan takes Hugh away from the line of reporters to meet with you as you get closer. You smile up at Ryan, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. 

“You look beautiful,” Ryan says. “Blake told me she was going to help you get ready.”

“Yeah, well you know me…” you smile. 

Hugh gently reaches out to take your hand, his eyes sparkling in your direction. “You look–” he lets out a breath. “My god, baby.” 

“You like the blue?” you lean in and peck his lips lightly, hearing your name and Hugh’s being called repeatedly. 

“Oh, I love it.” 

“Okay, and now I’m gonna go and find my girl,” Ryan says, leaving the both of you. 

“You look so handsome,” you tell Hugh, hands coming up to gently straighten out his bowtie.

“Me? Look at you, baby.” Hugh grins, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. Every thought and conversation he’s had with you to keep things professional leaves his mind. He can’t get enough of you, can’t take his eyes off of you. 

“You’re being very… showy,” you giggle, hand moving up to rest on his chest as the other comes up to wrap around his shoulders. “You do realize that we’re out in public.”

“Don’t matter to me,” Hugh smiles. “You look breathtaking, baby.” 

“It isn’t too much?” you ask. 

“I think it’s not enough,” Hugh answers. “And the slit on your leg,” he growls. “You’re just teasing me at this point, baby.” 

“What?” you blush. 

“I mean, I love this dress. I do, but–” Hugh shuts his eyes and leans in to whisper quietly into your ear. “I just want to rip it off of you the minute we get back home.” 

You clear your throat and gently grip at the lapel of his suit jacket, feeling the anticipation and throbbing between your legs. “You can’t go around saying things like that when we have this party to attend the entire night.”

Hugh chuckles and pulls back enough to rest his forehead against yours. He can hear the photographers calling his name, can hear the sounds of the cameras going off, and he leans forward and presses his lips firmly against yours. He wants the whole world to know just how much he loves you. 

He doesn’t try to deepen the kiss, afraid that if he does, he’s going to have to somehow hide his growing erection. So, he pulls away and looks down at you. “We still have half of the carpet to go. Care to join me, baby?” 

“You sure?” 

“Absolutely,” Hugh answers. He takes your hand and leads you to the next marker, standing right next to you as his arm snakes around your waist. He can’t even smile or pose for the cameras, too focused on you. You lead him towards the end of the carpet, grateful that you’re in control because all he can think about is you and that dress. Usually, Hugh’s a gentleman, making sure not to make it too obvious that his eyes are lingering, but he can’t help himself. 

Once you turn around, your back facing him, Hugh comes up from behind you and wraps his arms around you. He presses a kiss to your temple, whispering into your ear. “You’re absolutely stunning, baby.”

The cameras continue to go off, so excited and grateful to have captured this moment between the both of you. You look up at him and smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Hm, all these compliments, Hugh… What do you want?” 

Hugh grins, leading you away from the red carpet and into the venue. “Oh, baby, you know what I want.” It’s dark when you enter the building, pressing his front against your backside. The fabric of your dress is satin, but thin enough that you can feel him so firmly. 

“Hugh…” 

“Okay, okay,” Hugh kisses your cheek and then pulls away before he gets too excited. He takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. “Let’s grab a drink, yeah?” 

“We have a long night ahead of us, don’t we?” 

Hugh chuckles. “Let’s stay for a couple of hours and then head back home.”

“But this party is for you, Hugh. You should probably stay the entire time and–”

Hugh shakes his head. “I’m taking you back home because I don’t think I can last the entire night seeing you in that dress.” 

“Well, when you put it like that…”

Hugh leans down and pecks your lips. “Now, come on. Let’s grab a drink and you owe me a dance.” 

“Oh, I do, do I?” you smile, following him to the bar. 

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m not dancing with you when you’re wearing that dress.” 

—

The two hours quickly approach and you had been talking to Blake when Hugh comes up behind you, arms wrapped around your waist. “Last dance?” he whispers. 

You nod, leaning back against him. “This one always wants to dance,” you tease, telling Blake who gives you a knowing look. 

“Well, you are with the greatest showman,” she quips. 

“Always singing, always dancing, I’m so lucky.”

“And I’m still right here,” Hugh points out with a chuckle. “You mind if I steal her away, Blake?” 

Blake nods and smiles, turning on her heel to go and get another drink. Hugh takes your hand, leading you to the dance floor. He slowly twirls you around, pulling you into him as his free hand rests a hand on your lower back. He keeps ahold of your hand against his chest, bringing it up to his lips as he places a soft kiss on your knuckles. 

Your free hand rests on his shoulder as you gaze up at him, slowly swaying side to side with him. “I think I’ve been really good,” he tells you. “Even though it’s been very hard to not just take you into the bathroom and–”

“Hugh!” you interrupt, letting out a quiet giggle. “One last dance and then we can head home.” 

“Good,” Hugh says. “Because I’ve been very hard for you,” he growls lowly. “It’s quite painful, actually.”

“Oh, poor baby,” you tease. “What can I do to help?”

“I’ve got a few things in mind, baby,” Hugh grins. 

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

[cuubism]

Found this old fic concept in my notes, I doubt I'll ever get around to writing it or that I could do it justice if I did, but it still makes me laugh so I wrote it up as a little blurb. Perhaps it will make you laugh too.

Mega Popstar Dream and Hob, his extremely non-famous celebrity crush

So in this universe Dream is an extremely famous musician. He's like Taylor Swift level of famous, if you walk up to any random person on the street they would know who he is. Meanwhile Hob is an actor but really not very well known, he was in a few small projects and is in the core cast of one TV show that's well-regarded but not super popular.

It's Dream's FAVORITE TV SHOW and Hob is his FAVORITE ACTOR that he's ferally OBSESSED WITH. Everyone knows about this too, Dream is really obvious about it. In interviews people will ask him what he likes and he's like "this is my favorite TV show" "have you seen Hob Gadling in that show isn't he incredible", They'll ask him if he has a celebrity crush (as a joke) and he's like "YES HOB GADLING 😍" like it's become a meme in Dream's fandom how much he has a crush on this random actor.

They've never met though, probably Dream was afraid to -- 'never meet your heroes' and all -- and never let his team book any overlapping events. So he's never seen Hob in person, only watched his favorite TV show 65 times in a row and memorized every inch of his face. Like a stalker.

So then a Buzzfeed-esque YouTube channel is running a special edition of their usual challenge show, "People Meet Their Celebrity Crush", except this time it's "CELEBRITIES Meet Their Celebrity Crush." Dream's entire team conspires against him to book him on this. Dream doesn't know what it is until the very moment since the whole point is to surprise people with their crush. Needless to say, Hob was REALLY dubious when the channel reached out like "do you want to come on as Dream's celebrity crush" but what's he gonna do say NO? say NO when Dream is so pretty and cute? So yeah he goes.

Anyway during the moment in the video when they revealed his celebrity crush to him -- aka Hob just looking like a totally normal and random guy -- Dream literally tripped over a chair and fell on the floor and then fainted. Instant meme and it became the thumbnail of the video. When Dream woke up to find Hob crouched by him all concerned asking if he was okay he nearly had a panic attack, he was never more flustered and nervous in his whole life not even performing for crowds of millions.

Hob fell in love instantly. He doesn't even know much about Dream, he hasn't even listened to Dream's music other than what's just playing ubiquitously on the radio all the time but all it took was watching Dream fall over a chair and then look up at him with his huge starry eyes and he was like 'This one's mine forever idc. I gotta protect this nerd he won't survive in the wild.'

Anyway they did start dating after that and Dream never leaves the honeymoon phase for the rest of his whole life, he truly thinks Hob is the most handsome man and best actor in the entire world and will tell anyone so at any opportunity, he goes around saying things like "see if you believe really hard you too can marry your celebrity crush 🥰" with zero irony, he might have skipped the Grammys to go to the premiere of season 3 of Hob's show (Hob didn't ask him to do that) (Dream won the Grammy but had more fun staring at Hob's face for 2 hours than he would have had at the awards show). Meanwhile Hob never talks about Dream in public because Dream already has negative 500% privacy in his life, he's extremely protective of him, and he allegedly punched one of the paparazzi in the face when they tried to take stealth shots at their wedding which was supposed to be a private affair. ALLEGEDLY. No charges were filed.

Dream did post one photo of the wedding on insta for his adoring fandom in which he described Hob as his knight in shining armor and then denied any knowledge of any 'alleged' events when asked about it in the future. Because Hob was so much more private about their relationship than Dream, for a while Dream's fandom had been like HOB DOESN'T DESERVE DREAM but after the (alleged) story about Hob punching someone in the face came out they were all obsessed with him. So that solved that problem.

(Despite Hob's efforts a paparazzi photo did come out of them the morning after the wedding, Hob sitting on the terrace drinking coffee, Dream sitting on his lap wearing Hob's shirt and looking thoroughly ravished. Dream might have framed it.)

Then they lived happily ever after. Dream put Hob in every one of his music videos regardless of whether it made sense for the story. Hob got one of Dream's songs put in his favorite TV show which made Dream's whole entire year. The end :)

[skzms]

¸*˳·˖ৎ୭ good loving changbin x f!reader

summary: out of the 90 odd playlists on changbin's spotify, jisung picks what might be the one playlist that isn't meant to be played in a car with him and chan – changbin and your sex playlist

word count: 2.6k words

author's note: this was originally for something else that has now fallen through, so I might as well post it for you all to enjoy <3 thank you to ems and a certain someone else for reading it first and gassing me up. also can you believe this is my first time writing a standalone for my main man? unbelievable

warnings: unfocused (bricked up) driving; many memories of unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it & pee after sex, guys); oral (m&f receiving); breeding kink; blindfolds and sensory deprivation; the tiniest bit of side minsung bc it's me

skzms' masterlist

♫ frank ocean - novacane ♫ doja cat - agora hills ♫ the weeknd - the party & the after-party ♫ plaza - all mine ♫ madeintyo - hunniddolla ♫ partynextdoor - wus good / curious

The last notes of a TigerJK track blast through the car, but before the song even fully ends, Jisung sighs dramatically and rips the USB cable from his phone.

“Okay, I’m officially bored with my music,” he announces with a pointed sigh

Changbin scoffs from the driver’s seat, the sound of the indicator clicking through the air as he makes a right turn.

“Only took you – what? 3 hours?” he teases. Jisung flicks his shoulder with a pout. Chan next to you, who’d been so quiet for the last hour that you thought he was asleep, chuckles quietly and pops one eye open, giving you a look that says ‘here they go again’.

“You said you didn’t mind! I offered to leave the aux to you, and you said I should put the music on!”

Changbin reaches over from where his arm is resting on the middle console and absentmindedly pats Jisung’s arm.

“I’m just teasing you, Sung, I like your music,” he chuckles, but Jisung’s pout doesn’t budge.

“No, no, you know what, let’s put your music on then,” he exclaims pettily and grabs Changbin’s phone from between them. “We have like an hour left, and I wouldn’t want to keep bothering you with my music.”

Changbin’s strong shoulders, the only thing you can see from your seat behind him, a peek of them visible between the back- and headrest of the driver’s seat, rise, and fall in an easy shrug. But despite your limited view of him, you still stare because you’re atrociously down bad for your boyfriend, yes, but also because his thin, black, figure-hugging sweater is ridiculously distracting, especially when you know what it feels like under your fingertips.

“Go ahead, Jisung-ah, just pick whatever.”

His voice is soft, and you know his eyes are equally so, and you wish you could see them. But you’d have to crane your whole body to the left if you wanted to do as much as catch his eyes in the rearview mirror. So you count your losses and let your eyes trail back out the window, watching the highway and the fields beyond pass you by while Jisung quietly scrolls through Changbin’s Spotify.

You’re on the way to the mountains, to Changbin’s family’s cabin in the woods. They usually rented it out as an airbnb, but had offered it to Changbin and his friends for a little fall break getaway, which you had gladly accepted. You’re in the car with Chan, Changbin and Jisung, but the others are also on the way, Felix, Jeongin and Hyunjin in one car, bringing copious amounts of snacks and food, and Seungmin and Minho in the last, and most likely quietest car, bringing what is probably a ridiculous amount of booze.

“You have so many playlists, Changbin-hyung,” Jisung whines, kicking his feet restlessly into the carpet.

“Just pick one that looks good,” Changbin retorts, “we pretty much listen to the same stuff anyways, I don’t know why you’re insisting on using mine.”

Jisung scoffs.

“I will not let you tease me later about me bothering you with my music for four hours,” he pouts, and this time you can’t help but giggle. He must know that he will get teased anyways. “Plus, I wanna find some new stuff to listen to.”

He scrolls for 10 more seconds before he shrugs.

“Okay, fuck it, let’s just do this one, this looks chill.”

He presses play and your body reacts immediately, before your brain can even catch up, heat dripping down your spine and into your abdomen. No, he couldn’t have …

“Which one is that …?” Changbin asks, his voice sounds casual enough to the boys, but not to you, attuned as you are to even the slightest crack in his facade.

Jisung obliviously checks Changbin’s phone again.

“It doesn’t have a title. Just the explosion emoji,” he shrugs and goes back to looking out the window, his head bopping to the music, completely oblivious to what he just did.

Of the 90 odd playlists on Changbin’s Spotify, Jisung had somehow managed to pick your and Changbin’s fucking sex playlist.

Frank Ocean’s voice floats through the car, and you see Changbin’s fingers flex on the steering wheel. You rack your brain for a reason to ask Jisung to change playlists, but the heat coiling between your legs is too addicting, making your head a little fuzzy already. And so neither you nor Changbin say anything as the song nears its end and when the tinny sample of Agora Hills starts playing, it doesn’t even take you by surprise. No, all it does is remind you of a few nights ago, of the same voice greeting you as you walked out of the bathroom wrapped in your towel, Changbin waiting for you, lounging on the bed wearing a tight black t-shirt and a devilish grin on his handsome face.

He’d gotten up and sauntered over to you, ignoring your raised eyebrow, thick arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you so close you could smell the cologne on his skin. He’d pushed you against the wall and kissed you with such eager lips, warm hands slithering over your damp skin, hot tongue licking the stray water droplets off your shoulders before ripping the towel from your body and sinking to his knees. He’d given you your first orgasm right there, against the bedroom wall with your thigh over his shoulder, and the second one on the bed, hands laced with yours as he fucked his tongue into you.

The memory vibrates through your body, and it’s like you can feel his soft fingertips on your skin, can feel his hot breath on your lips, the rumble of his groan against your clit. Arousal already pools deep in your gut when the song changes.

But this one, is even worse, the Weeknd’s voice calm and balmy in your ears and taking you back to a few months ago, a random weekend off for Changbin, when he’d suggested the blindfold for the first time. Said blindfold has become a regular part of your sex life now, but you still remember everything from that first night, the intensity of it all, of every one of Changbin’s touches, of the nerves jittering through your body, of the otherworldly feeling of the orgasm he pulled from you with his fingers, of the wet tears staining the black silk as you begged for him to take it off so you could look at him as you fell apart – the look on his face when he did, the way his thumbs wiped your tears away as he kissed you, forehead’s touching as you fell apart almost at the same time.

Distantly, you can hear Jisung ask Changbin about the cabin, the rooms, where the nearest supermarket is, but you can’t find it in yourself to focus. Chan next to you, thankfully, still has his eyes closed, his arms crossed over his chest that’s rising and falling gently.

For a second, you wonder if Changbin knows. If the edge to his voice is real, or if it’s all in your head. But then a muscle in his neck jumps when the song changes, and you know he knows, know he feels it, too.

Your pussy throbs when the bass drum of the next song hits, the smell of your laundry detergent wafting off your clothes only serving to drive you a little more insane, intensifying the memory of your face buried into the freshly washed duvet of the foot end of the bed, sucking in greedy lungfuls of air through your open, drooling mouth, on the night Changbin had fucked you raw for the first time. When you slightly shift in your seat you have to bite back a moan, your pussy so sensitive, your whole body floating somewhere on the edge of reality where you can feel the memory of Changbin’s nails digging into the skin of your hips, of his plush pink lips dragging wetly against the shell of your ear as he gasped strings of praises into your ear before he filled you up, so hot and sticky and perfect and addicting.

You lift your hand with no involvement of your brain, burning with the need to establish some kind of grounding contact with the love of your life in the front seat before you lose your goddamn mind.

Changbin nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels your fingers tracing the swell of his tense muscles, and his vision blurs for a moment when your fingernails drag down his skin. He doesn’t know if this is better or worse because the feeling of finally being able to feel you, instead of having to contend with the dull ache of knowing you’re behind him with no chance to even see you, makes him a little bit dizzy.

He’s rock fucking hard and weeping into his boxers, has been since the first notes of Jisung’s ill-fated pick rung through the car, and he thanks whatever fucking deity gave him the idea of wearing jeans today because if he was wearing sweats, there is no way Jisung wouldn’t have caught on. But instead, all Jisung does is babble on and on about the week, about whether there might be some early snow, about who he should room with, about how he had always wanted to try chopping wood, though he wonders if he’ll be strong enough to do it.

And Changbin truly tries his best to make all the appropriate noises, say all the right things and focus on the road at the same time, though that is so, so hard when the song that’s playing now was the one reverberating through the walls of the bathroom of a club he doesn’t remember the name of while you were on your knees, skirt flaring over your soft thighs, your eyes so big and watery and pretty as you took his cock down your throat.

It’s torture, the way he can still feel your nails digging into his thighs, the music throbbing through the wall and into his spine, the way he feels the phantom of your throat constricting around his cock.

“He wouldn’t, right?” Jisung says through the horny fog in Changbin’s brain, and Changbin has to blink a few times before he can reply.

“No, Minho would never pick Seungmin over you,” he says dutifully, but all he can focus on is the memory of the tears dripping down your glittered cheeks, the lipstick smeared around the base of his cock.

He casts a glance at Google Maps and the indicator that there are only 13 minutes left would be a relief, but that’s almost 4 more songs, and he knows which one’s next because it’s the one you don’t always get to, the one you only still get to hear when it’s 3am and his whole body is folded over you, your sweet gasps and whines and slick sounds filling the room, as he fucks his release back into you, filthy and hot and wet. It’s usually at this point that his brain to mouth filter has melted away, and he starts slurring his words when he tells you he wants to marry you, wants to put a baby or five in you and raise them and grow old together. And it’s always bittersweet because at this point, with you whimpering, promising you’re his, his orgasm racks through him dry, no more cum left to fill you up with.

His cock twitches and he has to stop himself from grimacing when a thick stream of pre-cum leaks into his boxers.

Are you as affected as he is? It kills him, the fact that he can’t even see you, the only thing he can see in his rearview mirror, apart from the road, is a sleeping Chan. He wonders how you’re doing, if your body is on fire like his, if you’re squirming in your seat trying to get friction, if you’re wet in your …

He has to actively stop himself because if he thinks about your pretty, creamy little pussy now he might actually cum untouched. Oh, but he wonders, wonders if you’ve been turned on for long enough that it does the maddening, hot throb it sometimes does. Wonders if you’ll cum quickly when he’s finally buried in you, squeezing around him so hard he sees stars as he fucks you through it and towards your second …

“Wow!” Jisung exclaims, and Changbin nearly swerves straight into a tree. Wait, a tree?

When he blinks back into focus he realises they’re rolling up to the cabin, his cabin, a silver car parked in front of it, Minho waving to them with one gloved hand before he goes back to unloading beer.

“Ha, I knew we wouldn’t be last. Hyunjin’s on dish duty tonight, just like I told him he would.”

Jisung jumps out of his seat as soon as Changbin kills the motor, already skipping down the drive and yelling about dishes and a bet to Minho. Chan yawns behind him.

“Thanks for driving, man,” he mumbles, slapping a hand on Changbin’s shoulder, and Changbin forces himself to give him a smile. He wonders if his face is as hot as it feels.

When Chan throws the car door shut behind him, Changbin finally dares to throw a discreet look down.

Oh, he’s definitely hard, and he has no idea how Jisung didn’t notice because it is … obvious. No wet spot, thankfully, even though his boxers are sticky with his pre-cum, but his cock, right there, hard and pulsing and straining against the zipper. Straining so hard, as a matter of fact, that he has to bite back a hiss as he climbs out of the car.

But then the back door of the car opens and you get out. Changbin’s cock kicks valiantly, heart squeezing in his chest when he finally lays eyes on you because you’re … you’re you, always like straight out of his best wet dreams, but god, he loves you like this, legs deliciously shaky, chest rising and falling rapidly, burning hot blush on your pretty face.

The look in your eyes is nothing short of feral, all blown pupils and eyelids heavy with arousal, the last remnants of his reason fly out the window. He swallows and chuckles drily, gaze not budging from yours as he slowly reaches out his hand and drags you closer, until your bodies are pressed together. The proximity, your hot breath against his face, he wants to eat you whole. He blinks down at you slowly.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to a bed.”

“Then we better hurry,” you say and Changbin leans down, winding one arm around your waist, using the other to swoop you up into his arms, before carrying you into the house, past Minho and Jisung and Chan without so much as a hello, and kicks the door of the first bedroom he finds shut behind him.

Minho blinks after you stupidly and gives Jisung a look.

“What’s gotten into them?” he asks incredulously. Jisung grins, but his cheeks are a fiery red.

“I’m pretty sure I accidentally put on their sex playlist in the car.”

Minho’s eyebrows shoot up and Chan chokes on air.

“Jisung!” he scolds, but Jisung just giggles giddily.

“In my defence, I didn’t notice until like 4 songs in when I saw Changbin bricked up and clutching the steering wheel for dear life.”

Minho smirks at him, and Jisung blushes even deeper.

“Jesus Christ,” Seungmin suddenly yells behind them, and they turn to see him hurrying out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him, “didn’t they arrive like literally 2 minutes ago, how are they already fucking?!”

Chan groans, running an exasperated hand down his face. Minho is still staring at Jisung, dark eyes watching him as he shrugs nonchalantly.

“It was a good playlist.”

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

[crimeronan]

i've seen a couple people in the notes of this very good post about fictional polyamory by @thebibliosphere say things along the lines of "oh, i've been doing it wrong :(" or "how do i know if i did this right??" or "i should probably give up and start over, i wrote this badly :(" and. no!!!!

(i AM seeing far MORE people say "oh, this clarified and helped me so much, i think i know how to fix issues i've been having with my own story" which. YES!!!!)

listen. if you're a monogamous person who's writing a polyamorous relationship, and you've been focusing mainly on The Triad and All Three Together All The Time as the endgame, that's literally fine. that's a perfectly acceptable and strong starting point for your plotting, imo. you do not need to give up on a story that you've started like this.

but the things discussed in the post Can and Should improve your execution!

you can keep the same plot beats and overall relationship arc 100%. polyamorous relationships are infinite in their formations, every one is unique. "basically a monogamous romance but with three people" Does exist, as a relationship type. you're not hashtag Misrepresenting (TM) poly people with it

BUT i do think it will help to read up on some poly people talking about how their relationships Differ from monogamous ones.

so i have outlined some basic important concepts about polyamory.

MORE IMPORTANTLY though, i've broken down some questions that you can answer throughout the writing process to strengthen your individual dyad relationships, your individual characterization, & your characters' individual feelings/experiences. this is a writing resource have fun

future kitkat butting in to say i spent over two hours writing this and it definitely needs a readmore. it is also NOT comprehensive. but everything should be pretty simple to follow! feel free to reblog if you find it helpful yourself or just want to reward me for how gotdan long this took KSLDKFJKDL.

i've grabbed quick links for a couple of the important concepts, some have SEO pitches in them but the info largely seems to be good. (if i missed anything Egregiously Gross on these sites i should be able to update the links with better ones later, since they're under the readmore.)

sidenote: this is NOT meant to be overwhelming, despite the length. if you can't read all of this, that's Okay. you do not need to give up on your writing.

here we go:

compersion!

compersion is a BIG thing in a lot of polyamorous relationships. it's joy derived from seeing two (or more) of your partners happy together, or joy derived from seeing your partner happy with someone else.

compersion is really important as a concept because it highlights that every individual relationship within a polycule is different -- and that that's a GOOD thing. it's sort of the inverse of jealousy.

by the "inverse of jealousy," i mean that instead of feeling left out and upset and possessive, you feel happy/joyous/content.

i can use personal experience as an example: it's a Relief for me when my partners receive joy/support/sex/romance/etc that i can't (or prefer not to) give them. and i love seeing my partners make each other laugh and be silly together.

it's 100% okay for a poly triad not to be together 100% of the time, it doesn't mean that the third member is being left out or not treated equally when two people do things alone together.

(i have individual dates with my partners all the time! PLUS larger 3-and-4-person date nights.)

if the third member DOES feel jealous or left out, then the polycule can have a conversation to figure out what needs/wants aren't being met, and solve that. this happens semi-regularly in my polycule, as it will happen in any relationship (including monogamous ones)! it's just part of being an adult, sometimes you have to talk about feelings.

metamours!

a metamour is someone who is dating your partner, but ISN'T dating you. this may not be relevant for people writing closed three-person romantic sexual triads, but it's a super helpful term to know.

the linked article also lists different types of metamour relationships with some fun phrasing i hadn't heard before. the tl;dr is: sometimes you'll be domestic cohabitation friends, sometimes you'll be buddies with your own friendship, sometimes you might not interact much outside of parties, every relationship is different.

there's no one-size-fits-all requirement for metamour relationships. sometimes polyamorous people will end up dating their metamour after a while (has happened to me), sometimes polyamorous people will break up with one partner for normal life reasons, but remain friendly metamours.

the goal of polyamory is NOT for EVERYONE to fall in love. it is 100% okay if this happens in your story, it happens in real life too! but it is also 100% okay for characters to be metamours without ever becoming "more than friends."

(sidenote: try to kill any internalized "more than" that you have when it comes to friendship. friends are just as important and special and vital as partners.)

of course there are a million ways for messiness to occur with metamours within a complex polycule, exactly like with close-knit platonic friend groups. however this post is not about that! there's enough "here's how polyamory can go wrong" stuff out there already, so i'm focusing on the positives here :)

open versus closed polyamorous relationships!

i'm struggling to find an online article that reflects my experience without directly contradicting at least SOME stuff. so i'll give a quick rundown

google has a bunch of conflicting definitions of open relationships and whether open relationships are different from polyamory. the general consensus seems to be that an open relationship prioritizes one partnership (often a marriage), but that each partner can have extraneous flings or long-term commitments (most often sexual in nature).

this is not typically how i use the term wrt polyamory. the poly concept is pretty simple. a closed polyamorous relationship is one with boundaries like a monogamous one. there are multiple partners in the polycule, but they are not interested in having anybody new join said polycule.

an open polyamorous relationship tends to be more flexible -- it just means that IF someone in the polycule develops mutual feelings for a new person, it's fine for them to become part of said polycule if they want to! the relationship/person is open to newcomers.

some groups will need to negotiate this all together, others will just go "haha, you kids have fun." just depends on the individuals!

with open AND closed polyamorous relationships, the most important thing is making sure that there's respectful communication and that everyone is on the same page. but there's no one-size-fits-all way to do that.

i wish i could give you guys a prescriptive "You Must Do It This Way" guide, but that's.... basically the opposite of what polyamory is about, HAHA.

feelings for multiple people!

i was gonna tack this on to the previous section but decided it warranted its own lil bit.

a defining feature (....i'm told?) of monogamous relationships is that a monogamous person only has feelings for One individual at a time. they only want a relationship with one individual at a time. or, if they DO have feelings for multiple people simultaneously, they're still only comfortable dating one person at a time & being exclusive with that one person.

this is perfectly fine!

the poly experience is generally different from this. but once again..... polyamorous people all have different individual perspectives on this.

for me, i have never been able to draw hard boxes around romantic vs sexual vs platonic relationships, & i love many people at once. my personal polycule lacks many strict definitions beyond "these are my chosen people, i want to forge a life with them indefinitely, whatever shape that life takes"

some poly people feel explicit romantic or sexual attraction to multiple people at once, some poly people feel almost no romantic or sexual attraction at all. i'd say that MOST poly people feel different things for different partners, which is not a bad thing!

some poly people are even monogamous-leaning -- they have just chosen one romantic partner who is themselves part of a larger polycule. (so this monogamous-leaning person has at least one metamour!)

or alternatively, they might have one romantic partner AND a qpr, or other ways of defining relationships. (this is a factor in my own polycule!)

i made this its own point because if you're writing a straightforward triad, this is unlikely to come up in the story itself -- but it's worth thinking about how your characters develop/handle feelings outside of their partnerships.

like, is this sort of a soulmateship, 'these are the only ones for me' type deal? in which they won't fall in love with anyone else, and can be fairly certain of that?

that's pretty close to typical monogamous standards but you Can make it work. just be thoughtful with it

alternatively, can you see any of these characters falling in love Again after the happily-ever-after? and how would the triad approach it, if so? what would they all need to talk about beforehand, and what feelings would everybody have about the situation?

it's worth considering these questions even if the hypothetical will never feature in your actual canon, because knowing the answers to these questions will help you understand all of the individuals & their relationship(s) MUCH better.

i've been typing this for nearly two hours and there's a lot more i COULD say because... there's just a lot to say. i'll close out with some quick questions that you can ask yourself when developing the dyad dynamics within your triad

first, take a page and create a separate section for each individual dyad. then answer these questions for every pair:

how does each pair act when alone?

how do they act differently alone compared to when they're with their third partner?

are there any elements of this dyad (romantic, sexual, financial, domestic, etc) that these two people DON'T have with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

are there any boundaries or hard limits within this dyad that aren't shared with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

partner 3 goes out of town alone for a few weeks. what are the remaining two doing in their absence?

(doesn't have to be anything special, it's just to get a sense of how the two interact on a day-by-day basis without the third there)

what is something that each partner in the dyad admires about the other -- that they DON'T necessarily see in the third partner?

what problem do These Two Specifically need to solve in the story before their relationship will work?

how is that problem DIFFERENT from the problems being solved within the other two dyads?

doing this for ALL THREE dyads is VITAL imo. that way, you develop complex and nuanced and different relationships that all have unique dynamics.

those questions should be enough to get you started, i hope

then After you've charted the differences in relationships, you can start to jot down similarities in the overarching triad. what does one person admire in Both of their partners? what are activities that all three like to do together? what are boundaries or discussions that all three share?

but the main goal is to figure out how to Differentiate each relationship!

a polycule is only as strong as the individual relationships within it. if two people are struggling with their own relationship, adding a third person won't fix that.

(UNLESS the third person is the catalyst for those two to, like, Actually Communicate And Work Their Shit Out. i just mean that the old adage of "maybe if we just add a third-" works about as well to fix a miserable non-communicative marriage as, uh, "maybe if we have a baby-")

AND FINALLY.

if you're not sure whether your poly romance reads organically to poly people, you can hire a sensitivity reader with poly experience. if you can't afford that, you can read up on polyamorous resources like a glossary of terms & articles actually written by poly people. (and stories written by poly people!)

you can also just.... ask poly people questions, if they're open to it. i like talking about polyamory and my own relationships so you're welcome to send asks if u want, i just can't guarantee i'll answer bc my energy levels fluctuate a lot and i don't always have time.

polyamorous people are in an uphill battle for positive representation right now & so the LAST thing i want to see is authors giving up on their stories bc they're worried about getting things Wrong. well-meaning and positive stories that treat this kind of love as normal, healthy, & aspirational are So So So Needed. even if you guys end up with some funky-feeling details.

seriously, if you're monogamous then you probably don't have a full idea of Just How Nasty a lot of people can get about polyamory. i wish it DIDN'T mean so much for you guys to want to write nice stories about us, but it does mean a lot. and it means a lot that you want to do it WELL.

in conclusion. this is not a prescriptive guide, it's just a way to raise questions. and also, you all are doing FINE.

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[rangerbarbz]

Study Sessions

“Study Sessions”

Author’s Note: Had some time to start another blurb! (After reading Book of Bill I’m thinking about writing about Ford possessed by Bill idk) I hope y’all enjoy this one! Let me know what you think lovelies <3 EDIT: OH MY GOODNESS I DID NOT SEE ALL THE INBOX REPLIES I HAD I AM SO SORRRYYYY I HAVE SOME REQUEST IDEAS IN THERE I’D LOVE TO DO 

You had conquered every single class at Backupsmore with either an A or a B as your final grade. You wouldn’t say you were a genius by any means, but you took pride in your schoolwork and wished to graduate as soon as possible. This changed when you began taking physics. You had never been so stumped by a subject. The equations, the laws, and the Godforsaken labs were the bane of your existence. 

Your determined nature refused to let you fail, so you decided to ask your professor for help. He began doting on his star student Stanford Pines who had taken his class the previous semester and was excelling through the upper level classes. Your professor suggested reaching out to him because he had recently become a S.I. for the introductory physics and chemistry courses. He handed you a Post-It note with his name and the hours when he was going to be in the library. 

After your last class of the day, you strolled over to the library on campus, nervous for your first session. He was so smart and you were afraid that he would get frustrated with how little you understood this subject. You made your way to the S.I. lab on campus and tapped your knuckle on the wooden door that was open. There was no one at any of the tables, but there were scattered notebook paper scribbled on and a textbook open. 

“Hello?” you called, looking around for a sign of anyone. Suddenly, a head popped up from underneath the table. He had ruffled brown hair and black, square glasses. 

“Hello!” the man replied, getting up from the floor. “Sorry about that. I had dropped my pen before you walked in.” He then sat on the rolling chair and scooted it closer to the table. “I’m Stanford, but you can call me Ford. I assume you’re here for physics help?” 

You smiled. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Ford. Yes, I am here for physics. My professor recommended you to me.” You placed your backpack on the floor and sat in the chair beside him. “I just want to go ahead and warn you, I’ve had trouble in this class. I hope I don’t frustrate you too much.” 

Ford chuckled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I know you’re a smart girl. Do you have any homework that needs to be completed?” You felt your face become warm. Smart girl. You enjoyed him calling you that. There was nothing quite like academic praise to a scholar. 

“Uh, yes I do actually,” you answered, not letting your train of thought derail. You pulled your binder from the first pocket of your backpack and set it on the table in front of you two. “It’s ten problems, so if I miss more than three of them that means I have a D,” you continued as you removed the worksheet from the rings. “I am shooting for at least a C in the class overall.” 

He grinned at you like he was happy about doing physics. “Well, I believe you’re going to get no less than an A in that class.” You laughed at his confidence in you. 

“I don’t know about that, but I appreciate it, Ford,” you replied, twirling your pencil between your fingers. You gazed into his eyes; the sunlight from the window brought out hints of gold in his dark brown irises. Wow, they were so pretty.

He then cocked his head to the side. “Pardon? Did you just say ‘pretty?’” he asked with a smile tugging at his lips. 

Your face immediately became hot. Oh my God you spoke out loud not meaning to. Okay how do you save this conversation. You laughed nervously. “Pretty excited to start learning that is! Ha! Let’s get started, please. I can’t wait!” you exclaimed, all in one breath. 

Ford nodded. “What a great attitude to have, Y/N!” He then picked up his pencil and began to explain the first problem to you. He was so good at going into detail about every little thing. He was patient with you as well which was good because he kept on distracting you. 

The more you focused on him, the more features you noticed. His glasses had scratches on the wire rims, he had a prominent, square jaw, and he had unkempt sideburns. He was so damn good looking it made you want to study thermodynamics forever if it meant you got to look at him. 

You had actually gone through the homework quicker than you thought you would, so Ford asked if you would want to practice some extra problems on the blackboard. Of course you agreed. You walked up to the board ready to write whatever he threw at you but feeling self-conscious about being the center of his attention like this. He was still sitting at the table reciting the equation back to you while you stood out in the open. You then pushed your insecurity to the side in order to show him you had actually learned something today. He carefully observed you as you wrote, watching the cogs in your brain turn. He also was watching the way your face contorted in concentration and the way your fingers tapped against the chalk tray. 

“Alright. I think I’m done, Ford.” You moved to the side so he could see your final answer. 

He smiled at you, putting his hands on his knees to get up. “Let’s see what ya got,” he responded, walking over to stand beside you. You didn’t realize when he was sitting how tall he was compared to you or how broad his chest was. He began to mumble under his breath, making sure there were no mistakes present. “Everything looks good Y/N!” He then turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours. 

“You know, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Look at what you accomplished in just this short amount of time! If you keep on coming to my sessions, I know you can get through this class without worry.” Ford paused and looked back at the board, hands held behind his back. “It would make me happy to see you succeed.” 

You beamed back at him. Would it be inappropriate to kiss him right now? 

You (obviously) continued going to Ford’s S.I. sessions because your grade improved with each one you went to. You had also spent some time outside of the library together  by doing some photography of the wildlife around campus while Ford doodled in his sketchbook. People usually clocked him as an introvert, but he was not like that with you. He had opened up quite a bit to you about his past and what he wanted to do in the future. 

Today, you had met Ford on a bench outside his dormitory after your physics class had let out to share some good news with him. “Ford!” you called out. He looked up to see you waving a paper marked with an A+ in red ink. “Guess who got the highest grade in the class on the test last week?” you squealed. 

“Yes!” Ford said triumphantly, standing up quickly to pump his fists in the air. His sketchbook fell to the ground with some of the loose papers coming out. “I’m so proud of you!” You put your hands on his strong shoulders and jumped up and down. 

“Thank you thank you thank you! I’m just tickled pink right now,” you responded happily, bending down to pick up his drawings before the wind caught them. Ford’s face suddenly fell.

“Oh here I’ll get that,” he started, kneeling down on the concrete beside you. He was trying to pick up the papers that fell out as fast as possible, but you were faster. 

Your eyes grew wide as you picked up a paper with drawings of a woman reading a textbook, in a tree taking a picture of a bird, and one where she was just laughing. They were all you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at them. They were so beautiful. 

“Y/N I’m so sorry. I- I can explain,” Ford stammered. “I- I have…liked you for a while now. You just are always on my mind, so I end up drawing you sometimes.”

“I like you too,” you cut him off. 

His face was flushed beyond belief. “I, well, uh-” 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you stated. Ford’s eyebrows lifted as you closed the gap between you with a sweet kiss. He let out the tiniest sigh at the contact, his eyes fluttering close. You held his face in your hands and separated your lips from his to see his reaction. He was still blushing with a goofy smile on his lipstick stained face. 

“That was nice. Should’ve done that sooner,” he joked. You giggled and began to kiss him rapidly on his cheeks and forehead. You had left red stains of your lips with each smooch you gave him. 

“Yeah, you should have, smart guy.” He rolled his eyes and held your chin between his thumb and index finger to pull you in for another kiss. You smiled against his lips.

“I can’t wait to tell Fiddleford about this,” Ford murmured. 

“ And I can’t wait to see Fiddleford’s reaction to my assault on your face,” you laughed.