#it was in her interest to flatter/praise him
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fideidefenswhore · 14 days ago
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After that last ask about Cromwell’s involvement, I’m really curious how you’d characterise Mary’s relationship with him overall?
Because I’ve seen some historians suggest things were - on the whole - more conciliatory, whilst others have seen it as just another bullying minister in a line of them for Mary.
And yeah I’m just interested in how you’d describe it!
The "bullying minister" is more in line with some older pop history, like Carolly Erickson, but Mary's biographers do tend to take a more cynical view...
Chapuys was informed he must persuade Mary to sign the articles [...] The ambassador, his tongue firmly in his cheek, responded that he thought Mary would take more notice of Cromwell, who was like a second father to her. In fact, Cromwell was more like a wicked uncle. He sent Mary a letter that was both uncompromising and threatening. [...] The prospect of abandonment by Cromwell [...] finally broke Mary's resolve.
Her correspondence with him after her capitulation was cordial and warm. But I don't think she would've forgotten that he promoted the cause of her mother's demotion, any more than she would've forgotten for anyone else. She's aware that he's the most influential person with her father at this point, that's why she uses him as an intermediary on matters of finances and such in the coming year(s).
Like her relationship with her second stepmother, I think it's important to consider the self-fashioning: she knows everything she writes will be relayed to her father.
Mary sent Cromwell a letter of thanks in effecting her reconciliation. Surprisingly, she did not take up the offer obviously made by either letter or messenger for new clothes. She told him she had written to her father saying she required no more clothes than her father's favour.
Again, we know she'll be asking Cromwell to ask Henry to send her more funds later in the year, so this could suggest various possibilities...1) she wasn't so destitute of clothes during AB's reign as Chapuys suggested, and/or 2) Henry hasn't been quite so generous absent of her influence as Chapuys has suggested, so she's hedging on asking for anything further than what has been granted on the hope it will be offered and that she doesn't have to later be in the position of 'beggar', and/or 3) she's being intentionally self-abasing/humble as a matter of self-fashioning (not necessarily 'sincerely' thankful).
Mary does thank him for his kindness to her servant and her mother's. But I don't necessarily think this means their relationship was completely beneficial to Mary's well-being...it's likely that as Cromwell is "stringing Chapuys along", he's likewise doing the same to Mary, as late as August that year still telling him that Henry will name her heir to the throne. Charles V seemed to take a more realistic view, even from farther away: "he doubted Cromwell's sincerity in promoting either Mary's marriage to Dom Luis or her restoration the succession".
There's often an anachronism of Mary's life 1536- being 'fairly tranquil'. But what follows is the execution of her chamberlain in connection to the Pilgrimage, and Cromwell was very active in carrying out Henry's will in regards to reprisals for that rebellion. We don't know what she felt about that, nor how much blame she felt was due, and to whom. Maybe she believed, underneath all the courtly politesse towards Cromwell, that much like AB, he was a corrupting influence on her father...or, maybe not. Later on, he's extremely active in the reprisals of the "Exeter Conspiracy", which led to the arrests and executions of many of her supporters and friends. How did she feel about Cromwell's role in this? Again, this is all speculation, but I don't necessarily, personally believe her only emotion towards Cromwell was gratitude.
Elizabeth Seymour asked her to be godmother to her son, but it's hard to know how suggestive that is of Mary being an ally /of an affinity/friendly with the Cromwells, and/or the Seymours. It might also just have been reflective of an honour that Elizabeth wanted conferred on her son; her son was the King's nephew-in-law, it would've been entirely appropriate for his daughter to be his godmother as well, reifying that royal connection.
Cromwell warned Mary (or took her to task, depending on your view) that her lodging foreigners in her household without permission from Henry made her suspect to him. He also instructed her to meet Charles V's ambassadors in 1538, and then to inform him exactly what they had said. Mary seems to have perhaps 'technically' (what did they say, vs what did they write) followed his instructions, but ultimately defied them (she either spoke in a language her ladies did not know, or slipped them a letter apprising them of 'secret matters'). He later sent instructions to 'sound Cleves in regard to a marriage for Mary with the Duke'.
In 1540, Mary thanked him again for looking after her own interests. It was to be the last time she did so. These are Melita Thomas' last remarks on the subject:
From Mary's letters to Cromwell, and the presents exchanged between them, we can infer that they were personally on good terms [...] Mary never sought to undermine or circumvent his power with Henry. It is impossible to know whether, secretly, she hated him as the author of the destruction of papal authority, and the Dissolution of the Monasteries, or whether she was sincerelly grateful to him for effecting the reconciliation with Henry. [...]
Interesting, but I don't think 1) Mary had enough power or influence to undermine or circumvent Cromwell's power, even had she wanted to, and 2) "sincere hatred" and "sincere gratitude" are not mutually exclusive emotions, necessarily. Even if it was more the former, she would have been disabused on the notion (if she held it), that he was the sole influence responsible for the destruction of what/those she held dear (much like she was in 1536); because days after Cromwell's execution, Dr Abell, her mother's chaplain and supporter, and her own former tutor and supporter, Dr Fetherstone, were executed.
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a-hazbin-reader · 10 months ago
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OMGOMG I HAD THIS IDEA FOR A WHILE NOW
(u dont have to do it if u dont wanna !!)
BUT THE READER IS ALASTORS WIFE AND SHE EXTREMELY LOYAL TO HIM BUT VOX KEEPS TRYING TO GET HER TO FALL FOR HIM
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Vox being humiliated, Unwanted Attention, Possessive Alastor
Description: ☝️⬆️
If you wanted that stupid tv head then you would've gotten with him by now, you only have eyes for your husband
It used to make you a little embarrassed, having someone so openly into you and then having your husband come to your rescue
That was always your favorite part
Alastor coming around and wrapping a protective arm around your waist, pulling you in close in a possessive display
You always used to really play up the adoring wife, cooing at and praising your brave husband
Not you two looking adorable, you leaning on him happily, hand on his chest as he grinned down at you while whisking you away
You're not even flattered by the attention anymore, having long since figured out that Vox is only into you because he's into your husband
His hate boner is obvious
The point is, Vox is only trying to woo you to get under Alastor's skin and if he somehow managed to land you then it's just a cherry on top
You know he would lose interest if he actually got you
But Vox will never steal you away from your husband, you're too infatuated with him to even consider it
You don't even respond to Vox anymore, straight up ignoring him whenever you see him
You throw out the flowers he sends, give Niffty the sweets and let Alastor rip up the little notes
If you see him in public then you pretend he's not there
"Hey hey hey~ Fancy bumping into you here, Y/N~ How you been~? Still with that old-school geezer of yours?"
"... Yes, I would like two pounds of venison, please"
It really irks Vox more than anything to be ignored/not taken seriously so this always pisses him off and throws him off his game
"U-uh so...Y/N did you catch the news lately? Lotta scary freaks out and about! Maybe I could walk you home? Just to keep you safe, of course-"
You've already left the shop before Vox even realizes it, the shop owner watching him with a nervous expression
You fucking bitch
"My counters!!"
He isn't going to lose his shit in front of you, that would be a major turn off and he knows it
Not that you don't already know he's throwing a small tantrum before chasing after you
Not him forcefully taking your bags so that you have no choice but to let him walk you home
🙄 Your funeral man
Vox talks the entire time, awkwardly trying to fill your icey silence with tales of his great deeds
The paparazzi are going fucking nuts rn
BREAKING NEWS! IS VOX MOVING IN ON THE RADIO DEMON'S WIFE???
You don't even make it halfway home before Alastor shows up, bumping Vox out of the way and catching your bags, using his free arm to hold you close
"Alastor! What took you so long?"
"Apologies my dear, Rosie was being quite the chatterbox today~"
Not both of you pretending Vox was never even there-
By the time Vox is able to pull his head out of the ground all he can see is the two of you walking away, you leaning your head on Alastor's shoulder
And Alastor's entire head whipping around to give him a shit eating grin as you two round a corner
FUCK!
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I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE!!
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kitoshii · 1 year ago
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whos ? subbot ! bunny hybrid ! male ! reader x domtop ! wolf hybrid ! male character | pt 2
lovin ? kinda psuedocest , feminization , breeding , degradation & praise , size kink / size difference , small reader , overstim …
your first meeting.. was a weird one. your moms telling you the two of you are going for dinner and of course this is a surprise - eating out is not a normal occurrence in your family, home cooked meals are much preferred, and you’re especially surprised when she says to dress in something nice. yet, you pick out clothes, something form flattering yet dressy, and the two of you are on your way to the restaurant when she proposes an idea, as if its from the top of her head. “why don’t we invite another to join us?”
youre naturally confused, but you don’t disagree, and reaching the restaurant, you’re greeted at your reserved table by two carnivores, huge ones at that, and your normally floppy ears perk up in interest. the younger one is tall, dark, and handsome and you’re swooning before you’ve even introduced yourself.
yet- you’re still confused. you’re not dumb, you can tell this was all previously planned and so as the night progresses a little more, you ask your mom about what’s going on. the oldest carnivore at the table barks out a little laugh, as does your mother, and the two explain that they’ve been seeing each other, and marriage is on the table.
so the tall, dark, and handsome wolf is going to be your tall, dark, and handsome brother. much less exciting than you’d have wished, although you are naturally happy for your mother. the night ends quite quickly, and the four of you say your goodbyes before parting ways.
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your second meeting.. is what he can only describe as insufferable.
he thinks all of this is insanity. he swears under his breath, licking his fangs. his eyes are forced away from you- you, who is crossing your plush legs as you sit on the couch, leaning your weight on the armrest, exposing the side of your neck. a clean, soft surface is all he sees. something on you thats ready to be marked, littered with indents of his teeth and bruises that prove the presence of his lips on your neck- he adjusts himself where he sat, pulling his pants at the thighs to give relief to the problem he finds growing, quite literally, by the second. he’s afraid if he continues staring any longer he might do something he regrets.
he shouldn’t think this way, he knows he shouldn’t, he’s practically just met you, and under the promise of becoming siblings, but it’s not his fault, is it? you’re a pretty bunny boy, soft skin, soft ears, and soft tail on display for him, he’s known he was going to have a hard time since the moment he saw you - and even worse from the moment he smelt you. you’re so defenseless, the shorts that you’re wearing reveal far too much, your fair skin far too tempting, and your innocent eyes far too beautiful. he wants to ruin it all. he want’s to force you to have to put your guard up when he’s around, to rip the shorts off your plush thighs, exposing whats creating the small, compared to his, bulge in them, he wants to mark up your skin until you’re bleeding, nd he wants to strip the innocence from your eyes, forcing you to keep them closed tight as your tears struggle to crawl out.
his breath turns heavier, pants leaving his parted lips as he squeezes his eyes shut, running a hand through his hair - when he’s snapped out of his deep thoughts after your small hand is rested upon his arm and he’s suddenly aware that you’re directly in front of him- but the only thing he can focus on is your silky thighs, the cute bulge in the middle of them, and how much smaller your hand is than his because fuck, he could ruin you so easily it’s driving him insane.
a soft growl escapes from his throat and he notices the way your hand quickly retracts, and he finally tears his gaze away from his eye candy, trailing his eyes up to your face, noticing the way your long, soft ears pin backwards, as if you were a dog. worry is clear in your eyes and he raises an eyebrow, crossing his legs inconspicuously.
“are you feeling alright?” you mumble softly and his mouth opens for a second before its closed again, his fangs catching on his bottom lip. your voice is sweet like honey yet soft like velvet and his ears twitch, moving in obvious attention to you.
he doesn’t answer you, he’s not even sure if he can, choosing to simply nod his head as he stands up, towering over your small frame. he thinks he hears a squeak escape from you and his hard cock twitches in his pants, flitting through every fantasy that involves your mouth.
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your third, fourth and fifth can all be considered normal, but your sixth meeting.. is surprisingly his breaking point.
he prides himself on his restraint. his ability to control his emotions, his urges- but the two of you are at your mothers house, and you are, as usual, far too relaxed, and wearing far too little clothing. he sits on a chair outside in the backyard, the shade a willow tree provides and the gentle wind cooling his face - while his lower half burns in desperation.
you’re none the wiser, innocently indulging in boy-ish behavior as you scavenge green grass for anything that may catch your eye, knees bending the blades underneath you. your back is to him - of course it is, he cant seem to catch a break, he mumbles irritatedly, curling his hands into fists from where they sat on the rests of the chair, his piercing eyes fixated on the curve of your ass, the arch of your back, the squish of your thighs, and the way he can perfectly see a prominent imprint of your balls when you bend far enough forward.
for a few moments he thinks you’re doing this on purpose, that you know of his perverted thoughts and are doing this to maybe punish him, but when your soft ears perk up, and you look back at him with sparkling eyes, a grin on your face to tell him that you’ve found, hell, a cool rock? he knows you wouldn’t do that. you couldn’t do that, you’re too dense to even notice the raging hard on in his pants every time you so much as giggle.
the two of you are inside now, still left alone with each other and you decide to join him where he stood in the kitchen, hungry for something. you open the fridge, leaning down to slide the fruit drawer open, bending at the waist and fuck..
“hm?” you ask, perking up, leaning over to peek at him from behind the fridge door. did he say that aloud?
he scans your face a few minutes before striding over to where you stood. your nose twitches in confusion and despite not being scared, your ears pin themselves back, like a dog. you take a step away from the fridge, beginning to close the door behind you before he’s on you, pressing his arm past your head quickly, closing the fridge door with a bang. you jump slightly, staring at him with big, confused, and worried eyes and his cock fucking jumps because -
“do you know that i.. am a predator?” he mumbles, looking down his nose at you with lidded eyes.
theres a flash of fear in your expression and your mouth gapes slightly. “i know.” you squeak after a beat of silence, trembling hands coming to hold onto your shirt at the chest area
“you know?” he repeats, tilting his head lightly, eyes narrowing as you nod, barely noticeable. “you don’t act like you know.”
a sharp breath escapes you and it takes a minute for you to think of an answer, treading lightly.
“how am i supposed.. to act?”
“..be wary of me. act like at any moment i will pounce on you because fuck, i could.” he growls slightly, moving himself so his forearm is propping him up on the fridge and not his hand - making an already close proximity impossibly closer.
“you could?” you repeat, staring up at him with the same big, innocent eyes but now theres something missing - the worry. the fear. “why haven’t you?” it’s a small mumble, almost a nervous stammer, quiet and hesitant but he heard it. of course he heard it, you’re the only thing he is - and has been focusing on for days.
his heavy breaths pick up, and his stare never falters from your face, slowly scanning your features with calculating movements, immediately catching any change, so when a smile creeps on your lips, a little less innocent than your eyes and in a way, teasing, he catches it. immediately. and he pounces.
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a desperate, muffled cry escapes from your wet lips, his big fingers pressing against your soft tongue, sometimes slipping so far back they’d tease your uvula, making you choke around his digits. his big, thick cock presses against your flush thigh for just a moment, leaving a trail of precum.
his hand that wasnt occupied in keeping you a little quieter is three fingers into your hole, tapping your prostate so hard your body jerks with every press. he’s skilled with his hands, a cocky grin overtaking his face as his ears twitch with every cute sound from your throat and every sloppy sound from your asshole. you’re tight, too tight, he’s not quite sure his dick will fit passed the tip, but he knows you want it, and god knows he wants it too.
the thought of filling you up, of wrecking your small body and moulding you into a cockwhore for him has been infecting his mind like a virus, and he’d be damned if he stopped for anything but a safe word.
a sob fills his ears and suddenly he realizes you’d came a few seconds ago, your legs trembling and kicking up from overstimulation, sensitive dick pressing into the mattress involuntarily before jerking away.
he coos, quite condescendingly, slipping his wet fingers out of your hole, placing a light tap on your balls.
“was it too much for you, bunny?” he asks, pulling you up so your back was flush with his chest, watching as you nod with a dazed look on your tear filled face.
“yeah?” a mischievous grin that you’re unable to see spreads across his lips and wandering hands snake around you, squeezing your pretty thighs, before grasping your hard cock. his breath hitches as his entire hand envelops your small cock and his own twitches, a groan escaping his throat.
“fuck,” he laughs, watching as your hips attempt to pull away from his hand. “so fuckin small compared to me.” he grins, beginning to fist your cock, twisting his wrist around it. your reaction is immediate, a loud wail echoing through the room, your hands reaching out to clasp around his bigger one in a silent plea for mercy.
with reluctance, he gives it to you, letting you fall forward on to the bed. you sniffle, hiccuping softly before pushing yourself to your knees, arching your back as far as you could with your chest to the bed, presenting your ass to him, your fluffy tail wagging in desperation.
his mouth practically waters, hand finding its way down to his dick, closing it around himself before you reach your hands behind, spreading yourself apart to expose your twitching hole. this was you submitting , giving him full control of your body and the situation, and suddenly his instincts were screaming at him to breed you. to rut into you so much that his cum was spilling out, to imprint himself onto you, and to knock you up. to fuck you so full you had to carry his pups.
his stomach coiled and suddenly he couldn’t think, he couldn’t reason. the only thing clear to him was to breed, breed, breed.
he flips you onto your back, using a generous amount of lube, allowing his cockhead to catch onto your hole. you whimper - he’s bigger than his fingers - much thicker, much longer, and much, much hotter. you barely have time to prepare yourself before he’s grabbing your thighs in his hands, the skin spilling over his fingers at how tight his grip is - and suddenly his cock is fucked into you at full force. he bottoms out first thing and even the sound of your voice is delayed, the air being punched from your chest as your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, before a loud shriek does jump through his ears as he begins rutting into you, as if he were a dog in heat.
overtaken with how tight you are around him, and how small you are compared to him, he presses your knees up, bending you in half, watching his big cock sink into your tight hole, and the sight is almost what tips him over.
“fu-huck,” he moans, his pelvis slapping harshly against your thighs with every sharp, deliberate piston of his hips. “takin’ me so well baby, pretty cunts sucking me in so nicely.”
his deep voice riddled with obvious need and want has your ass squeezing around him, your dick twitching as it slaps against your stomach with every rough thrust.
your noises are punched out of you and then cut off with every thrust, the harshness of them making your brain spin and legs convulse. his hold on you does nothing to hide the shaking of your thighs and body, and it makes him groan in satisfaction, a smug smirk overtaking his face.
your drool and tears slide down your chin, pretty, soaked eyelashes batting quickly as you struggle between keeping your eyes open or letting them roll back. his large frame adjusts on top of you, thrusts never faltering despite his red, burning cock growing closer to release. the new angle allows him to hold your legs flush to your chest with his shoulders, while giving room to hold your clawing hands into place and he smirks, before leaning back slightly - and his entire body jerks forward, mouth falling open, fangs baring to pierce harshly into your neck as his eyes roll back because fuck - the bulge in your soft stomach is proof enough that he’s making room in your gut for his huge cock, because you’re just so fucking small.
you kick and cry at his teeth piercing your skin because it hurts, it hurts, but you’re marked and claimed and now he wont stop. teeth covering the expanse of your neck, cock drilling into your prostate with no sign of stopping anytime soon. all you can do is take it like a whore.
“thas’ it.. good girl, my cock was jus’ made for you, isn’t that right, bunny?” he growls and your hard cock spits out something like cum again at just his words because god, his deep voice, the constant stimulation on your prostate and the dirty talk did something to you.
he’s rutting into you so roughly, goin’ so hard nd deep, and you claw at his shoulders, blunt nails doing no real damage, begging him with wails and sobs to hurry up and cum because your tiny cock is so spent nd your tight hole is gonna be gaping afterwards with the effort of fitting such a large cock into you.
for a moment you think this was a bad idea - you think that he wont stop until you’re passed out, his instincts running his brain too wild, but with a thrust up into your stomach and a press down onto his cock bulge from the outside - with help from a desperate wail and a squeal that escaped your mouth - he’s cumming buckets into your soft stomach with a mumbled, “gonna fuckin breed you bunny,” pumping his hot, sticky load into you, filling you so much it’s leakin’ onto the sheets, his knot pressing painfully against your ass hole, threatening a breach as he ruts up feverishly, growls and titters leaving his throat, canines biting into his lip.
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hellooo, im kiyoshi, your writer, nd his is my first fanfiction ! its very self indulgent, nd eng isn’t my first language but if you enjoyed, this is me askin’ you to please reblog nd maybe even follow me to support writers ! we can become great friends ! ^.^
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faebled-stories · 16 days ago
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Rumor Has it
Kinkvember Day 12: Size Queen
ITZY Lee Chaeryeong x Male reader
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“I can’t believe I’m with ITZY’s Chaeryeong,” the man murmured, voice heavy with disbelief as his eyes roamed her flushed face. “You’re just so hot,” he added, the words tumbling out in a way that was meant to be flattering but only served to deepen the emptiness settling in her chest. His awe should have kindled something—pride, excitement, even a fleeting sense of satisfaction—but it barely registered.
Chaeryeong lay on the unfamiliar bed, her body half-sunken into the cushions as he moved rhythmically, each thrust marked by an urgency that lacked any real warmth. His hands skimmed over her skin with a mechanical precision, more rote than passionate, as if he were caught up in the idea of her rather than the moment they shared. His breath came in shallow, heated bursts against her collarbone, but rather than igniting any spark within her, it only deepened the creeping impatience that gnawed at her.
Detachment wrapped around her like a cold wave, numbing her senses until it felt as though she were watching herself from above, disconnected and distant. The cracked, faded ceiling above was far more familiar, more interesting than the man whose movements quickened, already nearing the climax of their encounter.
The scene was painfully predictable, an act she could have performed in her sleep. The pattern was always the same: meet a guy, revel in the spark of attraction, then watch that spark die the moment intimacy began. It wasn’t their lack of effort; many were charming, practiced, saying and doing all the right things. But beneath the flattery, the skilled movements, and the whispered praises, there was only the same worn-out script she had seen unfold too many times to count.
He caught her gaze, a confident smirk tugging at his lips. “I knew you’d be this wild,” he said, tracing a line down her side as if her silence was proof of his prowess. Chaeryeong’s lips curved into a slight, practiced smile—just enough to maintain the illusion. She knew what he was looking for: affirmation, a performance. It was easier to provide it than let him glimpse the blankness she felt inside.
“Tell me how good this feels," he whispered, voice thick with self-assured pride as he pushed forward. The words fell over her, hollow and ineffective, their intended power dissolving before it could ignite even a flicker of genuine response. She knew men like him all too well—the ones who craved validation, whose confidence was built on a steady diet of praise. They lived for these moments, hungry for reassurances that fed their ego as much as any touch or fleeting glance.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, carefully calibrating her voice to mimic desire. Inside, the chasm of disinterest yawned wider, swallowing any pretense of excitement. His movements grew more erratic and rushed, signaling the approach of the end. Each gasp, each strained promise of how he would make her feel, only deepened her impatience. Her eyes wandered to the wall, where the paint peeled in thin, curling strips.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he gasped, voice ragged as he tensed, releasing with a final, shuddering exhalation. The warmth splattered across her stomach, sudden and uncomfortable against her skin. He collapsed beside her, chest heaving, eyes closed with a self-satisfied smile curving his lips. The silence that followed pressed down on her, suffocating and familiar.
Chaeryeong stared at the ceiling, her expression unchanged, irritation simmering beneath her blank exterior. The mess was just another inconvenience, another reminder of how detached she felt from the entire experience. She sat up, reaching for the box of tissues on the bedside table, each swipe across her skin sharp with annoyance. The sticky remnants clung stubbornly, and she fought the urge to let out a sigh as she wiped it clean.
“That was amazing, you loved it, didn’t you?” he said, the lazy grin on his face matched only by the certainty in his voice. He looked up at her, eyes glinting with a kind of self-congratulation that made her jaw tighten.
“Yeah,” she said absently, the word slipping out devoid of meaning. She crumpled the tissue and tossed it into the trash with more force than necessary, already turning her attention to putting her clothes back on. The quicker she dressed, the sooner she could escape the weight of his gaze and the aftermath of a night that felt like just another checkbox ticked.
“You’re leaving?” His tone shifted, a hint of surprise breaking through his post-coital haze.
“Yeah, something came up,” she said, already buttoning her jeans and reaching for her jacket. She didn’t spare him a glance, the cool air from the hallway whispering in as she opened the door.
“Oh, well… okay. I guess I’ll see you around?” The words trailed after her, carrying the echo of confusion and a touch of disappointment.
“Maybe,” she muttered, stepping into the hallway. The door closed behind her, muffling his presence, and she let out a silent breath. The street outside stretched dark and quiet, the distant hum of traffic soothing in its consistency. With each step away, the encounter faded into the background, another scene in a cycle she was desperate to break.
-----
The next day, Chaeryeong walked into the studio, the weight of last night’s disconnection lingering around her like an unwelcome shadow. The steady thump of music in the background was a familiar comfort, its rhythmic beat grounding her as she stepped into the safe haven of dance practice. Here, she could shed the emptiness, rediscovering herself in the movements and the sweat.
As she moved down the hallway, she nearly bumped into you—a newer dancer known for your laid-back, shy demeanor that had a certain charm. The unexpected encounter made her pause, and she blinked up at you, adjusting the strap of her bag with an almost self-conscious touch.
“Oh, hey,” you said, eyes widening with surprise before a soft, genuine smile spread across your face. Your voice carried a hint of nervousness, but it was endearing, a reflection of your gentle nature.
“Hey,” she replied, her tone casual but warm. Chaeryeong had seen you before, exchanged a few words here and there, but your interactions were always routine—comfortable, familiar, but devoid of any real thrill or spark. Still, there was something grounding about your presence, an easy reliability in an industry full of fleeting faces and shallow exchanges.
“How’s it going?” you asked, shifting the strap of your own bag and glancing at her with a mix of shyness and openness.
“Good,” Chaeryeong answered with a brief look toward her makeup room. “Just getting ready for practice.”
“Same here,” you said with a small, awkward chuckle, nodding toward the practice room behind you. “Well, I’ll catch you later.”
“Yeah, see you,” she echoed, stepping past you as the moment seamlessly blended into the rest of her day.
Settling into her makeup chair, Chaeryeong projected an air of calm as the room buzzed around her with practiced chaos. Stylists moved efficiently, tugging at her hair and trimming stray ends while she scrolled through her phone, barely registering the cascade of notifications on the screen. Despite the morning’s encounter, her mind drifted back to the comforting rhythm of dance, where she could momentarily leave everything else behind.
A sudden murmur of gossip cut through the ambient chatter, the tone sharp enough to catch her attention.
“Did you hear about the new dancer?” one stylist whispered, drawing out her words as if relishing their weight.
Chaeryeong’s pulse quickened, but she kept her expression neutral, eyes glued to her phone as though she hadn’t heard.
“Oh yeah,” another stylist chimed in, her red lipstick as bold as the knowing smile she wore. “They say he’s... well, really well-endowed.” She stretched out the last words, savoring the ripple of reactions they prompted and darting her eyes around for signs of who was listening.
Heat crept up Chaeryeong’s neck, her cheeks warming despite her best attempt at indifference. In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of the stylists exchanging conspiratorial looks, their excitement palpable. She focused back on her phone, but the whispered words replayed in her mind, stubbornly refusing to fade.
“Where did you hear that?” a third stylist asked, her eyes wide as if this were the juiciest piece of news in weeks.
“Someone in the wardrobe department,” the second stylist replied, leaning in conspiratorially. “They saw him changing during a show. It was... unmistakable.”
Unmistakable. The word lodged itself in Chaeryeong’s mind. She scolded herself for the flicker of interest that sparked within her. It’s just gossip, she reminded herself. But the allure of whispered secrets had a way of sticking, no matter how much she tried to brush them off.
Chaeryeong attempted to shake off the chatter, but it clung to her thoughts, feeding her curiosity. She opened a recent group photo on her phone from a past shoot, eyes scanning your face, searching for... what, exactly? She didn’t know. The absurdity of it made her bite back a sigh.
She locked her screen and set her phone down, chastising herself. This is ridiculous, she thought, trying to push the rumor out of her mind. But it lingered at the edges, a persistent tickle she couldn’t quite dismiss.
A few days later, Chaeryeong found herself tucked into a quiet corner of a café, a rare escape from the whirlwind of studio life. The hum of coffee machines and the clinking of cups provided a soothing backdrop, calming her frayed nerves. She took a slow sip of her latte, savoring the warmth that radiated through her.
Her peace was short-lived. From a nearby table, lively voices cut through the mellow atmosphere. Natty and Julie, two bright junior members of Kiss of Life, were leaning into each other, their laughter infectiously carefree. Their energy filled the small café, vibrant and uncontainable.
Chaeryeong wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but their excitement was impossible to ignore.
“So... have you heard about the hot topic recently?” Natty’s eyes were wide, her voice tinged with thrill.
Julie’s grin widened as she lowered her voice. “Oh my God, yes! Everyone’s talking about it. You mean... the rumor?”
Chaeryeong’s fingers drummed lightly against her mug. She’d heard variations of this story a hundred times before—momentary bursts of intrigue that swirled through the industry, more smoke than fire. Yet, there was something magnetic about the way these whispers spread. No matter how hard she tried to tune out, the animated tones and shared glances drew her in.
“Yeah, you know... the rumor,” Natty said, barely suppressing her giggles.
Julie leaned back, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. “Honestly, I kind of want to see if it’s true.”
Natty’s eyes widened, shock mixed with amusement. “Wait, what? You’re actually thinking of... finding out?”
A daring glint crossed Julie’s face. “Why not? Everyone’s acting like he’s some kind of god. He’s always so nice and friendly. It wouldn’t be that hard to get close.”
Natty shook her head, half-amused, half-incredulous. “You’re wild! What if it’s not true? Or worse, what if it is?”
Julie’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “That’s what makes it fun! I’m not just going to ask him, obviously. But if the opportunity comes up... why not?”
Chaeryeong took another sip of her coffee, pretending to focus on the view outside. The boldness of youth was something she recognized from her own early days. They were fearless, driven by curiosity and the thrill of what-ifs. But she knew better now. Rumors had a way of spiraling, turning curiosity into consequences.
Yet, their conversation lingered in her thoughts, winding its way into the quiet spaces of her mind. Could there be any truth to it? It was absurd, but the question gnawed at her. She tried to brush it off as idle curiosity, but the story held on like a stubborn melody.
With a sigh, Chaeryeong set down her mug and stood, casting a glance back at Natty and Julie. They were still deep in conversation, laughter bubbling over as they reveled in their world of daring and speculation. Their faces were bright, full of life untouched by the cynicism that came with years in the industry.
As Chaeryeong stepped into the crisp autumn air, a bemused smile tugged at her lips. Maybe, in their own ways, everyone was searching for a little excitement, a hint of truth buried in the glitz and chaos. In the unpredictable realm of K-pop, who wouldn’t want to peek behind the curtain to find out what was real?
-----
On a quiet afternoon, Chaeryeong sprawled across the cool floor of the practice room, her body still humming from hours of intense rehearsal. The mingling scents of sweat and faint traces of perfume filled the air, and the ache in her muscles was a satisfying reminder of her hard work. For a brief moment, silence settled over the room, seeping into her exhaustion and offering a rare sense of peace.
The stillness was broken by the soft, deliberate clicks of Ryujin’s phone. Every few moments, Ryujin’s lips would curl into a smirk, her eyes flickering with amusement as she scrolled through whatever had caught her attention. Chaeryeong, trying to focus on stretching out her legs, found herself drawn to the subtle shifts in Ryujin’s expression.
“What’s got you giggling?” Chaeryeong asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity. She lifted an arm over her head, feeling the pull in her shoulder, though the stretch couldn’t quite outmatch the intrigue sparked by Ryujin’s grin.
“Oh, just some juicy gossip,” Ryujin replied, snapping her phone shut and looking up with a mischievous glint. “You’ve heard the latest about him, haven’t you?”
Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, her heart giving a small, involuntary skip. “I’ve heard bits and pieces. What’s new?”
Ryujin leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, rumor has it things have taken an… interesting turn.”
Chaeryeong found herself inching closer, her interest piqued. “Interesting how?”
“Remember that new staff member from production? Long hair, brunette, always with the clipboard?” Ryujin’s voice dropped even further as Chaeryeong nodded, recalling the confident, polished woman who’d been around the studio lately. “Apparently, she tried to hook up with him, but it didn’t go as planned.”
Chaeryeong’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
Ryujin savored the suspense, a smile playing on her lips. “She called it off halfway through. Said it was ‘too much’ for her.”
Chaeryeong’s mouth fell open in disbelief, a small laugh escaping before she could stop it. “You’re serious?”
Ryujin’s nod was triumphant. “Completely. She’s been avoiding him ever since.” The way Ryujin spoke made it clear she found the entire thing endlessly entertaining. “Can you imagine? She didn’t even finish!”
Chaeryeong leaned back, trying to process the bizarre twist. Until now, the rumors had been little more than idle chatter, a way to pass the time between rehearsals. But this? This felt different—specific, almost too wild to be entirely made up.
“That’s beyond crazy,” she muttered, shaking her head. “So she really just… walked away?”
Ryujin’s smile widened. “Too intense for her, apparently. Makes the rumor even juicier, right?”
Chaeryeong chuckled, fingers brushing her forehead as if to clear the strangeness from her thoughts. She’d always seen you as quiet and reserved, an enigma wrapped in an unassuming presence. You’d danced beside her, shared jokes and casual conversations, but now it felt like a veil of mystery had fallen over you, changing how she saw you.
Ryujin noticed the flicker of interest in Chaeryeong’s eyes and pounced on it. “Not curious at all?”
Chaeryeong scoffed, though a faint warmth crept up her neck. “It’s just gossip. Things like this always get exaggerated.”
Ryujin laughed knowingly. “Maybe. But admit it, there’s a part of you that wants to know. And who’s to say there isn’t some truth hidden in there?”
Chaeryeong rolled her eyes, trying to brush off Ryujin’s teasing, but a reluctant smile played on her lips. “Okay, maybe I’m a little curious,” she conceded.
“Exactly,” Ryujin said, leaning back with a victorious nod. “And who knows? You’ve worked with him more than anyone. If anyone can figure out what’s real, it’s you.”
Chaeryeong’s expression turned wary. “Are you suggesting I go looking for answers?”
“Not exactly,” Ryujin replied with a wink. “But it wouldn’t hurt to keep your eyes open. You never know what you might find.”
As Chaeryeong stood up, stretching her arms high above her head, the tension in her muscles eased, but a new kind of tension lingered in her mind. “I’m not getting caught up in this,” she said, trying to sound resolute.
Ryujin’s smirk deepened. “Sure. Just don’t blame me when you can’t stop wondering.”
Chaeryeong’s gaze drifted across the empty room. Though she said nothing, her thoughts inevitably circled back to you—the unexpected center of a rumor that refused to fade. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to you than she had realized.
-----
In the days that followed, her resolve to ignore the gossip unraveled bit by bit. Every break in rehearsal, she’d catch snippets of whispered conversations, soft voices punctuated by the thrill of the latest gossip. The room seemed charged, the air thick with secrets woven together in webs of speculation, and the more she tried to tune it out, the more the curiosity gnawed at her.
It was a curious thing, the way her perception of you began to shift. In her mind, the once-awkward grin and boyish shyness you’d worn so easily took on a new, shadowed dimension. She’d always seen you as the soft-spoken one, the one who was quietly supportive, almost unassuming. But now, even a passing glance was tinged with the echo of those whispered stories, and each encounter left her feeling as if she’d glimpsed only a fraction of who you really were.
The questions pulsed in her thoughts, gaining a stubborn grip, no matter how often she told herself it was only idle gossip. What if the quiet you she’d known was only part of the story? What if there was a depth, a mystery lurking beneath the surface, a piece of you yet to be uncovered?
With every passing day, her curiosity transformed from a soft, passing thought into an itch that lingered, whispering at the back of her mind. And though she told herself to brush it aside, Chaeryeong couldn’t help but wonder. In a world built on appearances and carefully constructed images, maybe there was something real beneath all the stories. And maybe—just maybe—she’d find herself wanting to know who you truly were.
Then, one afternoon, it seemed as though fortune had finally aligned in her favor. Practice had stretched longer than usual, the group winding down and slowly dispersing in pairs or small clusters, chatter buzzing through the air. Chaeryeong, catching her breath near the edge of the practice room, happened to look up just as you turned the corner into the hallway, your figure briefly silhouetted against the light streaming in from the corridor.
Your gaze found hers, and in that brief, quiet exchange, you offered a shy, slightly lopsided smile—a familiar look that made her pulse skip, the awkward charm in it disarming and strangely magnetic. In that moment, something sparked in Chaeryeong’s chest, a flicker of boldness mixed with curiosity. Today, she insisted, I’ll find out more.
Whether it was the way you moved, calm and at ease despite the group’s lively presence, or the weight of the unanswered questions lingering in her mind, she couldn’t ignore the pull anymore. The hallway felt smaller, the walls pressing closer as she crossed the distance between you, her footsteps light but deliberate.
“Hey!” she called out, her tone casual but carrying a note of unmistakable purpose. You paused, a slight furrow of confusion forming on your brow as you turned. “Can you help me with something?” she asked, her smile warm but with a hint of mischief that made your eyes narrow in curiosity.
“Oh, uh… sure. What do you need?” you replied, polite and almost cautious, your tone laced with that familiar modesty she had come to expect from you.
“There’s something broken in my dressing room,” she replied, her tone smooth and casual as she gestured down the hallway. Ignoring the flicker of uncertainty that crossed your face, she took a step forward, inviting you to follow her. You hesitated, but soon enough, you fell into step beside her, the two of you making your way through the quiet corridor toward her dressing room.
Her heart pounded as you neared the door, the quiet intensity of her decision hitting her as she led you inside, closing the door behind. For a moment, you looked around, a faint confusion in your expression as you glanced around the small space.
“So… what exactly is broken?” you asked, your brow lifting as you scanned the room, clearly searching for any sign of damage.
A smile crept onto her face, playful and assured. “There’s nothing broken,” she said softly, watching as the realization dawned in your expression. “I just wanted to get you alone.”
Your eyes widened, surprise and hesitation crossing your face as you struggled to find a response. “Alone? I… I don’t really…”
She reached out, placing a hand on your arm in a gentle but firm gesture, her gaze steady. “You’ve probably heard the rumors about you,” she said, her voice quiet, laced with both curiosity and determination.
Your face flushed, a deep crimson that betrayed your nervousness, and you quickly averted your gaze. “I-I don’t really pay attention to that stuff,” you stammered, shifting uncomfortably.
“Well, I do,” she replied, her voice lowering to a near-whisper, her breath warm and close. “And I’m curious.”
You blinked, taken aback, struggling to process her words. “Curious? About… about what?” Your voice was barely a murmur, your gaze flicking nervously between her face and the door.
“About whether the rumors are true,” she continued, taking a step closer, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that made the air between you both feel electric. She could feel your hesitation, but she wasn’t about to back down—not now.
Your breath hitched, and you took a small step back, the uncertainty clear in your expression. “I… I don’t think this is a good idea, Chaeryeong.”
But she only smiled, undeterred by the protest, taking the soft reluctance as a sign that she was closer to the truth than she’d expected. “I think it’s a great idea,” she said softly, her gaze steady as she leaned in, her hand tracing a slow line down your arm.
Before you could voice another word of protest, she closed the space between you, capturing your lips with her own in a kiss that was unhurried but unmistakably confident. You froze, the surprise evident as her warmth pressed against you, but after a moment, your hands found her waist, responding with an uncertainty that melted into something softer, bolder.
When she pulled back, your breath was shallow, confusion and conflict swirling in your gaze as you looked at her, trying to find the words. “Chaeryeong, I… I don’t want you to think—”
She lifted a finger to your lips, silencing you with a soft shush. “You don’t have to explain anything. I want this.”
Your expression betrayed your uncertainty, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else—a tension, an attraction you seemed to be struggling to contain. “But… what if this isn’t—”
“Don’t overthink it,” she murmured, her voice soft as her hand found yours, guiding it gently. Her fingers brushed against your skin, warm and light, and you felt the world around you blur, the small room shrinking to just the two of you. “Just show me.”
“Show you?” you repeated, the words barely escaping your lips as you tried to steady yourself, her gaze holding yours with a quiet intensity that felt almost like a challenge.
Her smirk widened, her hand trailing downward, brushing against you with a deliberate slowness that sent a surge of heat through the quiet room. “Show me what I’ve been hearing about.”
A heavy silence fell between you, your gaze flicking toward the door, conflicted but drawn in by the certainty in her eyes. Something shifted in you then—whether it was the thrill of the moment, the pull of her confidence, or the simple desire to finally let go of your restraint, you couldn’t tell. You nodded slowly, your hands moving to the buttons of your shirt, your breath shallow as her eyes followed every motion.
As the last button fell open, Chaeryeong’s gaze grew intense, her breath catching as she took you in. For a moment, the noise and tension of the studio outside felt like a distant memory, her curiosity and excitement heightening with each second. It’s real, she thought, the truth of all the whispers and gossip settling into place, striking her with a thrill she hadn’t fully expected.
"Wow the rumors are true," she whispered, stepping closer. Her hands gently guided you to sit on the plush couch. "I've been looking for someone to be able to fulfill my needs and you are formidable" she admitted, her voice lowering to a sultry whisper.
Sitting down, your heart pounded as Chaeryeong knelt before you. There was a moment of stillness, her eyes locked with yours, before she leaned in. Her breath was warm against your member as she began, her touch sending waves of electricity through your body.
She started slowly, her lips parting to take you in, her movements deliberate and gentle. You could feel her tongue, soft and exploratory, circling the tip before she took more of you into her mouth. The warmth, the wetness, it was overwhelming.
As Chaeryeong continued, she seemed to grow more empowered with each inch she took. Her eyes, when they met yours, were filled with a proud determination. She was proving something to herself as much as she was pleasuring you.
The air was thick with anticipation and the subtle scent of her exertion. She was focused, each movement more deliberate and bold than the last. Her determination was palpable, and you could see it in the way she bit her bottom lip as she concentrated.
Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, using your body for support as she pushed herself to take more of you. With each movement, she adjusted her technique, learning as she went, adapting to the situation with a skill that only came from experience and a deep understanding of her craft.
You could feel the tension building in the room as she took more of you, sinking deeper with each thrust. Her breathing became heavier, and you could hear the soft sounds of her exertion, mingling with the sound of her lips against your skin. Her hair brushed against your thighs as she moved, a soft and sensual contrast to the firmness of her grip.
Finally, she reached the base, her lips pressed against you as she took all of you in. It was a moment of pure intimacy and connection, a testament to her skill and dedication. And as she held you there, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration and respect for the woman before you.
The feeling of your entire body being enveloped by warmth and tightness was overwhelming. You could feel the muscles of their throat contracting and relaxing around you, creating an indescribable level of pleasure that left you trembling. The sensation of being so completely encased was both thrilling and intimidating, and you couldn't help but let out a gasp of disbelief.
"No one has ever taken me so well before," you managed to say, your voice thick with emotion and desire. Your words were muffled, but still understandable, as you were still buried deep within them. You could hear the surprise and satisfaction in your own voice, and it only served to heighten your arousal.
The experience was so intense and all-consuming that you found it hard to think or speak clearly. You were lost in a sea of pleasure, your mind and body fully focused on the sensations coursing through you. You couldn't believe the level of arousal from being completely inside Chaeryeong's throat. 
She paused for a brief moment, pulling back slowly with a satisfied, almost victorious smile gracing her lips. Her eyes slightly teary but gleamed with a sense of pride and accomplishment, as if she had just uncovered a hidden treasure. In a way, she had discovered exactly how to please you in a manner that was unique to her.
She plunged back down, enveloping your shaft once again with her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue danced and swirled around your member, exploring every inch with a curiosity that was both exhilarating and arousing. The rhythm she employed was methodical and precise, building up a steady momentum that left you breathless and wanting more.
Chaeryeong's technique was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. She moved with a confidence and fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly, as if she had been practicing this art for centuries. Every movement was deliberate and calculated, designed to elicit the maximum amount of pleasure from your body.
As she continued to work her magic, you could feel the tension building way too quick, like a coiled spring ready to burst. your muscles tensed and released, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to maintain control. But it was no use she had you under her spell, and there was nothing you could do but surrender to the inevitable.
Without warning, the peak arrived embarrassingly quickly, your body tensed up as you surrendered to the intense climax. A wave of pleasure washed over you from head to toe. Crying out her name, your fingers tangled in her hair, pushing her deeper as you rode out the high. Chaeryeong, who was completely dedicated to the moment, took you in as deeply as she could, her jaw stretched wide open to its maximum capacity. However, even with her best efforts, some of your release managed to escape past her lips, leaving a glistening trail that made its way down her chin. The sight of it was incredibly arousing, and it was clear that Chaeryeong had given her all to the moment, creating an unforgettable experience that would be etched in your memory for a long time.
She sat back on her heels, a look of satisfaction and slight surprise on her face as swallowed as much of your release as possible, savoring the taste as she wiped the corner of her mouth. Her chest heaved, not just from the physical exertion, but from the thrill of her achievement.
"Fuck, I cant wait to have you in my guts," she said, her voice a mix of pride and a playful challenge.
You could only nod, still reeling from the intensity, your mind buzzing with the intimacy of the moment.
As she straddled you with a grace that belied her iron will, the air around you thickened with anticipation. "I told you, I'm not like the others," she murmured, her voice a sultry blend of promise and challenge that seemed to resonate with the very walls of the room. "I'm going to take it all, every inch of you."
Chaeryeong reached down and positioned you member along her toned tummy. the outline of your shaft reaching past her belly button and the sight only seemed to heighten her arousal. She lifted herself up and placed your tip right at her entrance. As the first surge of her entry made contact, a sharp and searing connection coursed through both of you, a potent mixture of challenge and exhilaration. Ugh, finally the words echoed in her mind, a silent testament to the culmination of her relentless pursuit.
Her body's response to your formidable presence was visceral, yielding and stretching in a way that was almost overwhelming. It was a threshold moment, where the line between pleasure and pain blurred into a singular, exquisite sensation. The initial sting of the stretch was rapidly eclipsed by a rush of empowerment, a triumphant defiance that scoffed at any hint of intimidation.
As each second ticked by, she experienced a growing sense of command and authority over the situation. She welcomed the intensity, the complexity, and the overwhelming power of the experience, using it to bolster her confidence and firm her resolve.
The moment was profound for both of you, a shared experience of vulnerability and intimacy that neither had encountered before. As you moved together in a rhythm as old as time, there was a sense of exploration, a journey into the uncharted territories of each other's bodies and souls.
For you, the sensation was overwhelmingly new. The initial penetration was a revelation, the heat of her inner walls enveloped you, the tightness and the pulsating warmth bonded you to her in a way words could scarcely capture. Every inch was cradled by her as you became one. It was as if the very essence of your being was being drawn out, channeled through the physical connection that tethered you to her.
While for Chaeryeong, the experience was equally transformative. She felt a stretching, a yielding of her deepest self to accommodate your presence. The depths of her womb were stirred as if from a long slumber. It was as though ancient, primal instincts were roused, acknowledging the potential of creation that lay within the act.
Her body responded with a knowing of its own, a subtle undulation that seemed to draw you in further, inviting you to explore the innermost sanctum of her being. With each movement, she felt more alive, more in tune with the ebbs and flows of her own desire, mirroring the dance of life itself.
Her breaths grew deeper, her grasp tightened, and her spirit soared. She reveled in the realization that she was not merely a passive participant in this dance of passion—she was the masterful conductor, leading them both in this symphony of sensation and connection.
With every sinuous sway of her hips, Chaeryeong's dominance unfurled like a nocturnal bloom, each movement a testament to her unyielding control. She danced a dance of power that commanded the space around her, her body moving with a precision and intent that was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her voice, rich and velvety, wove a sultry symphony that resonated with the raw essence of confidence and command, her words hanging in the air like a seductive incantation.
"Ugh, fuck you're huge," she murmured, her breaths short and quick from the exertion of her rhythmic movements. "You'll never feel this good with anyone else." Her words, laced with a potent blend of pleasure and cunning seduction, curled into the air like tendrils of smoke, captivating the senses and ensnaring the mind. In that moment, Chaeryeong was the embodiment of dominance, her presence an indomitable force that rewrote the rules of engagement, leaving an indelible mark on the soul.
Your gaze was locked onto the vision before you—Chaeryeong's face, a canvas of pure pleasure, her body undulating with a rhythm that resonated deep within your being. A moan escaped your lips, a testament to the desire that was building like a crescendo within you.
She sensed your struggle, the battle to maintain control as you teetered on the brink of something monumental. "Look at you," she breathed, her voice a sultry whisper that seemed to caress your soul. Her fingers traced a delicate path along your jawline, a touch that was both tender and tantalizing. "I'm making you feel so good, aren't I?"
Her words were a silken web, ensnaring you in a trap of yearning from which there was no escape. "You're going to lose yourself in me, aren't you?" she continued, a hint of satisfaction threading through her tone. "After this, you won't want anyone else. You’ll be mine."
Your grip tightened around her waist, a futile attempt to anchor yourself amidst the tumultuous sea of sensations. "I... I can't hold back much longer, Chaeryeong," you confessed, the urgency in your voice betraying your helplessness.
Her smirk was a promise of the inevitable, her movements an expertly choreographed invitation to let go. "Oh, why would you hold back? I want to feel every last bit of you inside me," she teased, her own excitement evident in the catch of her breath.
The air between you crackled with electricity, each touch, each movement fueling the fire that raged within. The rhythm of your union grew ever more insistent, a siren's call to the depths of abandon. "I won’t be able to stop," you managed to utter, a final warning as your eyes locked with hers, the last vestiges of your resolve dissolving under the weight of your need for her.
Chaeryeong's response was a whisper that scorched your ear and sent a fresh cascade of desire down your spine. "That’s exactly what I want. Show me how much you need me," she commanded, her voice a low thrum that resonated with the primal beat of your hearts.
With a renewed fervor, she moved against you, her hips a maelstrom of motion that drove you both inexorably toward the precipice. The world outside this room ceased to exist; only the two of you remained, entwined and moving as one. The couch beneath you protested faintly, its legs scraping against the floor—a mere whisper compared to the symphony of your mingled breaths and the roar of passion that enveloped you.
"Cum for me," she urged, her voice a blend of triumph and anticipation. "Show me you’re mine."
With a final, surrendering thrust, you reached the zenith of pleasure, your voice breaking in a raw, primal cry as ecstasy consumed you. "I'm cumming," you declared, your body a conduit for the overwhelming surge of release that coursed through every nerve.
The room was thick with the scent of passion, a musky perfume that clung to the air and enveloped the two entwined figures. Chaeryeong's breaths came in short, sharp gasps. Her body, slick with the exertion of their shared dance, moved with an urgency that matched the pounding of her heart, a drumbeat that seemed to echo the rhythm of their lovemaking.
As she surrendered to the waves of her climax, she found herself immersed in an ocean of bliss, her body quivering beneath the relentless surge of rapture. "Yes! I'm cumming! Fill me up" she screamed, her cries a declaration of victory.
Each pump of your seed overflowing within her propelled her to new heights, a sensation that had once been merely a fantastical dream, now vividly experienced. Her body convulsed and succumbed to the intensity, her cries intermingling with the potent atmosphere of the room, culminating in an intoxicating sensory symphony. At long last, she had discovered the pinnacle of her sexual quest, the ultimate fulfillment that had eluded her until this moment of unbridled surrender.
Her fingers, like talons, clawed at your chest, not out of aggression but from a primal need to mark you as hers. She sought to erase the boundaries between you, to blur the lines until there was no her, no you, but a singular entity caught in the throes of passion. It was as if she believed that with enough force, enough desire, she could fuse your very essences together, creating a bond that transcended the physical realm.
As the warmth of the moment settled around you both, Chaeryeong’s fingers moved with slow, intentional strokes along your collarbone, lingering as if marking her place. She traced small circles over your skin, her touch both gentle and claiming, a wordless reminder that she held a special kind of control here. Her gaze lingered on you, unwavering and filled with a spark of something deeper, a hint of possessive pride in the effect she had on you.
She leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice low and deliberate. “You know,” she murmured, each word sinking in with quiet intensity, “no one else could ever take you like I do.” Her fingers drifted to your jawline, holding you there as she spoke, her eyes narrowing slightly, studying you in a way that felt intimate, almost territorial. “You’re mine now,” she added softly, her voice laced with a blend of warmth and certainty, as if she had no doubt of the truth in her words.
There was a satisfaction in her expression, a quiet, possessive pride that seemed to fill the space between you. Her hand found yours, and her grip tightened, an unspoken promise in the way her fingers intertwined with yours. “When you want this again”—she gave your hand a gentle squeeze—“you’ll know exactly where to find me.”
Her eyes never left yours, her gaze intense and steady as if binding you to her in an unbreakable vow. She leaned forward, her lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was slow and lingering, a deliberate, possessive mark she left there like a signature, something to remember her by.
When she finally pulled away, the warmth of her core around your shaft vanished, replaced by the cold, empty air that only made you crave her all the more. As she rose, a trace of your seed slipped down from her glistening folds. The sight stirred something primal within you—a longing that went beyond desire, a need to be inside her again, to feel that consuming warmth at all times.
Her hand lingered on your chest as she looked down at you, her gaze satisfied yet somehow gentle, as if savoring the effect she’d left on you. Her fingers traced along your jaw, her touch warm and lingering, as if marking you with the memory of her presence.
With an effortless grace, she rose to her feet and cast one last, lingering look back at you. Her gaze held a quiet dominance, an unspoken assurance that the spark between you was entirely hers to command. She dressed herself swiftly, leaving the lingering trace of your essence inside her, a mark of the connection you’d just shared. And as she slipped away, her touch, her warmth, and the faint, visceral reminder of your bond wrapped around you like an invisible tether—one you knew you’d carry long after she was gone.
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propertyofwicked · 6 months ago
Text
STARE - LN
based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧
warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, co-workers to lovers??? not proof read
masterlist the playlist
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the energy of the mclaren garage was palpable, with engineers and mechanics scurrying around, ensuring everything was perfect for race day. y/n had been working with mclaren for a couple of years now, her role integral to the smooth running of race weekends. but today, something was different.
in honouring the master of monaco, ayrton senna, the two drivers had been given race suits that showed tribute. yellow and green suits that screamed heritage, elegance, and - in y/n’s opinion - undeniable charisma. both drivers looked good, they always did, but every time y/n caught a glimpse of lando, time seemed to slow. he looked every bit the part, embodying the spirit of senna effortlessly.
she couldn’t help but stare, her eyes seemingly glued to his form as he interacted with the team, each glance lingering a little too long. maybe he caught her a few times, heat rising her cheeks every time she quickly averted her eyes. maybe he hadn’t even noticed her, though had she not been so eager to hide her face, she would’ve seen the way he smirked to himself.
lando felt smug.
the race was typical for monaco, aside from the first-lap crash. oscar finishing P2 was significant for the team and for him, marking his best finish of the season so far. after the chequered flag waved and the celebrations began, y/n tried to busy herself with post-race duties, wrapping up some paperwork in hospitality whilst the rest of the team fulfilled media duties and packing away equipment.
or at least she tried. the room seemed to be filled with tv screens, all displaying lando’s post race interviews, hand on his hip, sweaty curls and a boyish grin. y/n was distracted, trying to avoid looking at the screens for too long, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander at the sight of his black fireproofs clinging tightly to his frame - she was just a girl, after all.
“so,” lando began, smirking as his eyes sparkled with mischief, “you think i look good in the senna suit, huh?”
her heart skipped a beat, and her whole body jumped, not expecting lando to be stood directly behind her, his hands resting on the back of her chair.
“what? no! i-i mean, yes, but –” she stammered, “paperwork,” she added, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence. he chuckled teasingly, though his smirk grew more smug as he noticed her cheeks going red and her hand shooting up to play with her necklace.
“i saw you looking at me. a lot. couldn’t help but notice.”
“i wasn’t – i mean, i was just –” y/n stuttered, trying to regain some composure as he leant down, using the chair to support him as his head dropped to rest closer to hers. she refused to make eye contact.
“it’s okay, you know. i’m flattered,” he muttered, glancing around to ensure no one was in earshot before continuing, “but if you keep looking at me like that, i might start to think you’re more interested in what’s under the suit.”
“lando, i...” she choked out, finally turning her head to face him. he was grinning, his mouth curling into that cocky, confident grin that she had seen too many times - but this time it was directed at her, and y/n was enthralled.
“how about we discuss this further in my driver’s room? less chance of interruptions,” lando told her, his tone leaving no room for an argument, though it wasn’t as if she was going to refuse. his eyes flicked around the room once more, before grabbing her wrist to tug her along behind him. once inside the room, he closed the door behind them, the small space suddenly feeling much more intimate.
“so,” he said again, turning to face y/n, “you think i look good, huh?”
“yes, i do. very good,” she told him, suddenly deciding to put on a brave face. his smirk softened into a genuine smile.
“good to know. because i think you look pretty good too,” lando replied, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “especially in that skirt you wore a few weeks ago.”
she looked at him puzzled for a moment, she knew exactly which skirt he meant, but how did he? how had he noticed her enough to remember what she was wearing?
“how did yo-”
“at least when i stare at you, i don’t make it obvious angel,” lando grinned, before dropping his head to press a kiss to her lips quickly, almost hesitantly at first. she kissed him back quickly, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hand moved to cup her jaw, the other settling on her waist. his hand pushed her head back, allowing him better access as he deepened the kiss, all whilst moving the two of them towards the sofa.
“it wasn’t that obvious,” she retorted in defence, pulling away from his lips quickly to catch her breath.
“it was,” lando replied, shifting the two of them so that he fell comfortably on the sofa, her landing on his lap, “even oscar noticed.”
“shut up?” she replied, tucking her face into his neck to hide her embarrassment, but trailing kisses down his skin.
“make me?” he replied, matching her tone as she nipped at his skin lightly, “good thing i’ve finished media for the day, isn’t it?”
“sorry - i didn’t mean t-” she started, pulling back to look at the red mark forming on his neck, but found herself interrupted by the shake of his head.
“i’d say do it again, but we have…20 minutes until everyone needs to leave,” lando told her reassuringly, his fingers gripping at her hips as his fingers rubbed harsh circles into her skin. her grips rolled into his, as if instinctually, whilst he moved back to kiss her, harsher than before.
“as much as you like this suit, it’s about time i take it off - don’t you think?” he asked, watching as she nodded quickly, her hands moving to the zipper. her hips rose momentarily to help him strip down, a pile of his clothes forming on the floor next to the two until he was left in just his boxers, her in equally as little clothing.
“lace?” lando asked, smiling up at her, his fingers trailing the hem of her underwear teasingly, “id ask if this was for me but there’s no way you could’ve seen this coming.”
“no, id say you were right,” she shrugged, her hand moving to grip his cock through the fabric, “i like to come prepared.”
“and ‘come you will,” he joked, which she couldn’t help but smile at despite the intimacy.
lando pushed a rugged finger past her panties, moving the fabric aside as two fingers slid through her folds, circling her clit a few times. he looked at her face, watching how she reacted to him. her mouth had opened slightly, already feeling pleasure from the anticipation, but it widened as the two fingers pushed into her, stretching her out around him. her hand was still working up and down his clothed length, thumb finding his tip as his precum leaked through the fabric of his boxers.
“did you say 20 minutes?” y/n suddenly asked him, her eyes widening at the realisation.
“i did,” he nodded, stuttering slightly as her hand pulled at his waistband.
“have we got time?”
“from the way you’re working yourself on my fingers, id say we have time to finish this, get dressed and be back at mine with 5 minutes to spare,” he exaggerated slightly, though continued twisting his fingers into her, engulfed in the way she rolled her hips into him as her walls tightened around him.
though lando didn’t give her time to get embarrassed about how quickly she was coming undone for him, before his fingers moved away from her. she whined slowly at the loss of contact, but lando ignored her, moving to take his fingers in his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.
“so good,” he muttered. he grabbed her face harshly, kissing her again so that y/n could taste herself, his hips lifting from the sofa to free himself completely. her hand resumed it’s ministrations, thumb resuming a circling motion on his tip. lando found himself distracted the moment her fingers dragged precum down his cock, following the patterns of veins that spread across his length.
“fuck,” he mumbled, the two of them trying to stay quiet as footsteps could be heard from outside his door, “need you now.”
y/n raised herself up on her knees quickly, lando’s hand on her waist guiding her towards him. his free hand gripped at the base of his cock, tracing it through her folds quickly and lining up with her entrance. the hand on her waist pushed her down slowly, helping to lower herself on him.
“big,” she whined, unable to form a full sentence, her head dropping to rest on lando’s shoulder as she sunk down further.
“thanks,” he laughed out, though the action made his body move causing y/n to slip, taking the rest of his length in all at once.
“fuck,” y/n mewled, nipping at the flesh of lando’s shoulder quickly to distract her from the stretch.
“you’re fine, you’re ok,” he reassured her, his voice soft despite him fighting the urge to thrust up into her.
she nodded into him quickly as her hips began to roll into him, feeling the way his length filled her. small grunts and incoherent mumbles from lando urged her to move more, so she raised her hips slowly before dropping back down over and over again until she settled on a good pace. lando’s fingers dug into her hip, barely guiding her movement whilst his fingers left bruises in his wake.
“wanna see you,” he told her, a hand pushing her shoulder back to look at her face. the new position awoke something in her, the angle sending her into overdrive as she used him to get herself off.
“and these…” lando added, moving to grip her breast in one hand, neck straining to take the other in his mouth.
“fuck, lan- fuck,” y/n uttered, feeling the way his tongue flicked at her nipple quickly before moving to nip and suck at the surrounding flesh. her chest was littered in red marks, sure to form into a constellation of bruises that would adorn her skin for weeks.
“taking me so good baby,” he told her, feeling the slowing of her pace with her legs growing tired, “you need me to help?”
she looked at him intently, before nodding. lando’s eyelids were half closed, but she could still see the way his pupils were blown with lust - he groaned deeply as she came to a stop, returning to rolling her hips into him instead.
“need to hear you say it,” lando insisted, his fingers trailing circular patterns up her thighs before settling on her clit. he felt her tense around him, the rolling of her hips coating his length in her slick as shoots of icy pleasure seemed to move directly from his fingertips to her brain.
“please, lando.”
“please what? what do you need, baby?” he teased, his own hips beginning to slowly jut up into her.
“need you t-to take over,” y/n stammered, gripping at lando’s shoulders tightly, “please.”
as much as he wanted to hear her beg, the way she had whimpered the word please was enough for him to pull her into a tight embrace, her legs anchoring around his back before he started thrusting himself into her at a brutal pace. oh how she prayed no one was stood nearby at this very moment, as all they would hear was the distant sound of skin slapping against each other, slightly muffled by the two of them panting.
“so responsive,” lando praised her, slowing slightly to sneak a hand between the two of them, fingers finding her clit once more, “fit me so well. like you were made f’me,” he grunted.
y/n’s mind had gone blank as lando mindlessly praised her, he himself unable to think about anything else.
“you gonna cum f’me?” he cooed, feeling the way she began to claw at his back, raking her nails into his skin and she grinded her hips into him, matching his pace.
“mhm,” she muttered out, her lips returning to his in a heat kiss - the type of kiss that overall had too much tongue and too much teeth but fit the haste of the moment so perfectly.
“go on then,” he prompted, “show me how good i make you feel.”
y/n didn’t respond verbally, she couldn’t. no, instead she came hard and fast, letting lando grip at her hips to hold her down harshly so that his length stayed deep inside of her.
“fuck me,” she panted out, though tried to keep the rolling motions of her hips to bring lando to his own finish.
“so good to me,” he grunted, taking in the sight in front of him, “you feel so good,” he added, barely able to utter another word before he was pulling her off him, ropes of cum shooting onto his stomach as she hovered over him.
“you didn’t have to do that,” she told him after a few moments of silence with lando catching his breath, “im on the pill anyway.”
“i didn’t think,” he told her, laughing lightly as she clambered off his lap, searching for her clothes, “now i know for next time.”
“next time?”
“yes, next time,” he doubled down, “trust me, ive wanted this for months. and now i’ve had you, i don’t think i want anyone else.”
heat rose to her cheeks again - she’d hoped this wasn’t a one time thing, but she was now blushing at the thought of it being a regular occurrence.
“tonight?” she asked him, cautiously.
“eager?” he teased.
“sorry i-” y/n started to apologise, stuttering slightly in her nervousness.
“y/n - tonight, tomorrow night, next week. my schedule is clear, for you.”
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thebibliosphere · 1 year ago
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From what I've seen, I think the Batkids would like your book.
Hunger Pangs? You flatter me.
But also, yes thank you for this particular strain on self-indulgent brain rot. I am going to be absolutely abnormal about this.
I’d like to imagine Dick picks it up at an airport somewhere on his way back from a trip and becomes hooked on the “clever, pretty, jumps-from balconies-for-the-thrill-of-the-fall vampire and goes, “oh, same.”
The fact that it’s got a rugged, soldiery werewolf with a heart of gold who enforces self-care as a form of kink-play is also doing stuff to his brain. (That’s a thing? He can… he can ask someone for that? Who does he ask for that? It’s been weeks since he slept more than a few hours and ate more than cereal for dinner. Seriously, who does he ask? How much is it? He’s got money. He’ll pay.) The uh, the need for validation and the budding praise kink is also hitting a little too close to home.
As is “all powerful witch with the power to pick you up with her mind and throw you around like a rag doll.” (LiStEN, he spent a large chunk of his formative years surrounded by tight spandex suits, villains with sexy mind control pollen and getting kidnapped and tied up every other week. It’s not his fault he’s Like This.)
He’s not mad about it, though.
*
Babs catches him re-reading it during downtime. She’s not even that interested, more asking what it is to be polite, but the way Dick jumps and turns red, like he didn’t even realize she was in the room is… intriguing.
“I can see why you like it,” she says, several days later, casually drinking her coffee while Dick stares straight ahead, willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Magic, politics. Saving the world from certain doom with the power of knowledge and ecological preservation.” She glances sideways at him. “Vlad’s got some interesting quirks.”
“Shut up.”
“Are we sure you’ve not been compromised?”
“Babs, I mean it.”
“Mean what?” Tim appears in the kitchen as though from nowhere, pouring a red bull into the coffee pot.
No one tries to stop him.
“Dick’s reading a new book,” Babs says, ignoring the murderous look Dick sends her way.
“Oh? What book? Is it any good?”
“Uh, yeah, uh.” Dick rubs at the back of his neck, glaring daggers at Babs as she rolls out of the room, cackling. “It’s uh, romance. Kind of silly actually…”
“Oh?”
Dick nods. “It’s got a vampire and a werewolf. Two guys. And a… well she’s just sort of magic. They break into a library to save the world from ecological disaster. They’re all bi. Together. Or they will be in the next book. This one’s more about the vampire and the werewolf getting together. Um...”
Tim’s gone very still in the way he does when his brain has caught hold of something and he’s absolutely about to let it consume him. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Dick shrugs. “It’s got some kink in it,” he warns, not wanting to expose his younger brother to something he’s not ready for. Which is ludicrous because he’s Robin. And from the way Tim’s not drinking his ‘coffee’ he can tell this is only going to go one way no matter what he says. He brightens, remembering something. “But there’s, like, a non smutty version too? Or a less smutty version, I guess? I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet. I could, we could go to the bookstore, maybe stop at the art store too…”
“I’ll meet you in the car.”
*
“So,” Jason says, and Dick can already tell where this is going by the shit-eating grin on his face. “Vampires, huh? Or is it more the werewolves you’re into?”
“Who told you?” Dick bemoans. “Was it Babs?” He bets it was Babs. Fucking Babs.
“Oh, no one told me anything Boy Wonder. Tim found out the author has a go-fund-me for some medical shit that exceeded his monthly allowance and he’s been harassing Bruce to “fix it” for several days now. He’s down in the cave making a nuisance of himself right now. Apparently he quote “needs more of the bisexual monster books Dick told him about” unquote, and the author can’t do shit if she up and fucking dies because this country’s a fucking for-profit shit hole.”
Dick places his head in his hands. “Oh, God. Is Bruce mad? He’s mad, isn’t he?”
Jason shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you. Last I heard, Tim was playing him the audiobook over the bat computer to make his case.”
Dick let’s his head thump against the table. This is it. This is his villain origin story. He’s going to run away and join the Rogues. Or maybe he’ll go back to the Circus. Either option is better than the idea of having to meet Bruce’s eye later over the dinner table.
“Personally, I thought the plot was a little weak but the characters are compelling,” Jason says, sipping his herbal tea. “I liked the chill necromancer doctor. I feel like he’d be able to fix me.”
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madelynraemunson · 3 months ago
Text
pass the salt pt. 2 • e.m smut
part one here.
OLDER!DAD’S BEST FRIEND!EDDIE x FEM!READER
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summary: dad’s having a bbq for labor day weekend and you heard through the grapevine that a certain friend of his is going to be there.
author’s note: let’s revisit the popsicle ordeal, shall we? 🍦
CW: porn with plot, oral (m-receiving), degrading kink, but also a praise kink bc i’m both and don’t know how that can possibly be, face fucking, cum eating, eddie eats his own cum if you squint heheheheheh, deep throating, cheating; for context, eddie is in his late 30s, reader early 20s and in college. dividers: @benkeibear @bucciniexe
WC: 2.3k words
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Eddie never called.
He couldn’t possibly be that old and forgetful.
Before parting ways, the 39 year old promised he’d let you know when he got home safely. So you stayed up all night waiting for a text, a call. And while it was evident he did make it back (he was playing games with your dad all night a couple days later), you couldn’t help but feel forgotten about.
Also, it’s West Memphis. What’s so interesting about the boonies that made Eddie forget about you so easily?
But now classes are back in session and Eddie, too, was becoming easy to forget. Easy to forget, that is, until conversations about your father’s annual Labor Day Weekend barbecue comes up.
"Eddie will be there, you remember him right?"
DO you?
Your thighs clench in place as you attempt to tame your excitement. Suddenly, your upper divisions are being ignored and you’re searching your closet for the shortest of short shorts to wear.
“Try forgetting about me NOW, Eddie,” you think to yourself.
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LABOR DAY WEEKEND
You just about checked your appearance a billion times in the mirror before making your way downstairs.
This afternoon you’re dressed in skin-tight denim shorts and a light top with puffy sleeves.
Your eye makeup? Specifically designed for destruction. And your lips? Cheeks? Both the same innocent, peachy pink. It’s sure to drive Eddie insane.
You could hardly contain your excitement. The thought of your fantasies being fulfilled within the next couple of days has you in tumultuous heat.
Being bent over the kitchen counter. Folded up atop the wash. Getting railed to bits in the guest room in the middle of the night while the TV drowns out your pretty little noises. But most of all, you couldn’t wait to be with Eddie. There was so much to talk to him about since he left.
After one last pep talk, you down your water like it’s a shot before going over to greet everyone.
———
When you get to the backyard, you offer the sea of guests polite smiles and pleasantries. Your dad is at the grill, doing what he does best with a big smile on his face. When you scoot past him, you see Lucas Sinclair and his wife, Maxine. You nod to Dustin Henderson. And Steve Harrington, the business guy.
Then you see him.
But it is to your absolute shock — and horror — that he happens to be manspread atop a lawn chair, laughing into the crook of a random woman's neck as she's perched on his lap.
Well this is awkward.
You watch as they laugh like teenagers in love, the woman leaning into Eddie the closer he reels her in. You watch him call her his "baby", as she runs her delicate fingers through his wavy brown hair. His cheeks turn a flattered rose when she kisses his nose with hers. But when his gaze drifts from her to you, it’s shifts to a different kind of red. An "oh shit" kind of red. An "I'm caught" kind of red. You swallow hard.
It's no wonder anymore why Eddie didn’t call. He found someone new.
"Sunshine!" your dad calls you over. "You know my buddies, Gareth and Grant. Mike, Will, and Jonathan?”
“Yes!” you attempt to remain collected, giving all the guys a gracious smile hello. “Hi, nice to see you again.”
When you make your way over to Eddie, you notice that he begins to sulk into his seat, avoiding any form of eye contact with you.
“And of course you know Eddie.”
Your dad’s best friend gives you a tight-lipped smile.
“How ya doing, sweetheart?”
“Long time no see…” is all you can say.
“And this is his girlfriend of three years, Sophie."
Your stomach is in knots now. THREE YEARS?!
Suddenly, your gaze goes from surprised to angry. Horrified. Nauseated.
Sophie wasn’t the other woman. It was you.
Meanwhile Eddie doesn’t seem to have a guilty bone in his body. When your eyes finally meet, you see that his are dark, piercing into you with such an intensity that you nearly stumble backwards.
"Aww Jeff," Sophie pouts. "Your daughter is so cute!"
"Isn't she?" Eddie coos.
It’s hard for you to comprehend anything, so you go mute shortly after the interaction. And for a while, you linger, as to not appear suspicious or upset. In the meantime, Eddie watches you while you talk to the other guests and help yourself to a couple pieces of fruit, curious as to why and how you haven’t caused a scene yet.
But you’re about to if you stay any longer.
Storming into the house now, you tilt your chin upwards to stop the inevitable down-flow of waterworks. And it’s when you think you’re all alone that a pair of gruff hands grab you by the wrists, shifting your back promptly against the wall.
Your breath hitches in response, as anyone's would if their body was being refrained by a tall, husky, and intoxicated silhouette.
"The nerve you have wearing those shorts around me," he breathes onto you.
You shove him back aggressively.
"Fuck off, Eddie," you spit. "You have a girlfriend?! You had one this whole time?!"
"Hey now—”
"After everything, you couldn’t even bother to tell me you’re already spoken for? Really?!" your voice is at an aggressive whisper now.
"I never said I was perfect."
"Clearly you aren't."
Eddie backs away for a second to let your anger simmer, his resigned hands creating a fair amount of distance between you two. But seeing you all angry and frazzled made his cock twitch, the only thing stopping him from fucking some forgiveness out of you being the thought of people standing right outside.
"I waited for you to call, Eddie. And you forgot all about me."
"Wanna make me remember then?"
You feel his erection through his strained denim jeans as Eddie tauntingly rubs himself against you.
"Make me remember how good I fucked you that one night?" he questions you rhetorically. "How pretty those moans sounded getting drowned out by my pillow? How you begged me to rail you dumb while you came hard all over my cock?"
Your lip quivers as his hot breath tickles your neck. You bite down in attempts to make it less obvious.
"How I corrupted Daddy's Little Girl?” he cockily adds.
"Ha!" you manage to scoff at him. "You really think you turned me, huh? You cannot be more wrong, Eddie. You haven't influenced me a bit.”
"Then what's all this about?"
He motions towards your outfit.
The taunting lace frills. The scant length with no built-in spandex underneath. Your outfit sculpted your body so nice, in every possible way. And as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you did do all of it for Eddie. And his influence is very prominent. Your face flushes red as Eddie searches for your gaze.
"Not foolin' anybody, darling," your dad’s friend issues you a sinister smirk. "Like I said before, I used to be your age."
“I can’t even look at you right now.” you mutter.
“You don’t have to.”
He grabs your hand and you let him, tracing the outline of his stiff cock as he grunts against you.
“In fact,” Eddie says as he shakes his head. “…you don’t have to speak at all. Would be hard for you to anyways with me in your mouth.”
Your breathing quickens the closer Eddie gets, and you find it impossible to pull away when he starts kissing down your neck — his breaths hot — the way his soft lips suction against your temple... even hotter — and the spearmint that danced with the nic at the back of his throat, expelling a shaky hum out of you that you tirelessly fought to keep inside.
"Eddie," you whimper. "I'm yours."
Eddie issues you a rough smack across your ass.
"I know that. On your knees."
There was no going back now. Before you know it, your knees meet the cold wooden floor, face practically already buried at the base of Eddie’s crotch before he could even strip himself down.
You sit patiently while Eddie grabs a chair, sitting down and teasingly palming himself while he lines himself up with you. You hungrily watch as he slides his jeans down, stroking his incredible length and girth a few times, before slapping the head of his leaking cock against the matching gloss of your lips.
"Missed it?"
You crumble.
"So much," you pout.
Eddie motions you forward and you place your lips on his throbbing head, sucking him in place before spiraling your tongue seductively down his shaft.
“Fuuuck,” he whispers. “There she is. There’s my girl.”
His praise causes you to melt into him, clinging to his waist and taking him deep as he holds you in place, the back of your head fitting his calloused palm like a glove.
“Mmhmm??” Eddie grunts as he studies every fervid bob of your head. “Mmhmm?? — Ohhh, fuck. Good girl.” He moves your hair out of the way. “That’s a good girl.”
Eddie cranes his neck towards the door leading outside, keeping watch of anybody who might be coming in.
But even when on the lookout, Eddie continues to mindfully thrust, slowly when people near but compensating with direct blows the moment they walk away.
Fucking hell.
He's a challenge in every possible way. Your tear-strung eyes trail up at Eddie as he watches you suck, slouching in his seat…rolling his hips… thrusting into your gaping mouth slightly past the point of resistance. And you were being so brave, that is until he unexpectedly plunges himself into you, causing you to gag and push hard against his warm thighs to catch your breath.
"Need some air, baby?"
"I—” you cough. “I — hate you.”
You spit back down onto his throbbing cock, showcasing to Eddie his salty string of pre-cum as he strokes your temple in consolation.
"I’m sure you do..." Eddie chuckles, offering you a menacing, adulterous pout in return. “I’m sure you fucking do.”
He knees the base of your core lightly and you immediately, obediently fold your hands behind your back. With his available hand, Eddie grazes your ass, venturing his fingers around your wet slit causing you to moan as your throat is jabbed repeatedly.
Eddie goes just far enough to hear more of your angelic, reactive gags. Pleasure-saturated tears roll uncontrollably down your cheeks. Amused, Eddie shakes his head as you desperately gargle him dry, his arousal spewing recklessly against your palate.
"She hates Eddie, she hates Eddie,” it’s almost like he’s singing it. Eddie chants sarcastically as he watches your makeup run out of pure lust. "Bet that filthy mouth LOVES him though, doesn't it, sweetheart?"
You nod again. Without the slightest bit of mercy, Eddie is practically ramming into you now. But you’re beyond the point of caring. You want him to obliterate you. More than he already has.
You knew better. But your dad’s best friend knew better than you.
“That filthy mouth loves how Eddie tastes?” he quips again as you nod up at him bitterly. “Hm?”
And as he finishes inside your mouth, salty seed soothing the back of your bruised throat, Eddie grabs you by the jaw to lock you in place. The twisted fucker wants you to savor every drop of his load, his ego oozing into you while his thick groans pollute the kitchen air. And when he finds the courage to finally look you in the eyes, your gaze pierces into him as you swallow him down.
And just as menacingly, Eddie grins down at you. You bat your lashes innocently as he gives your hollowed cheek a few delicate smacks with his large palm, followed by adorn praises for swallowing every drop he issued you.
“My pretty baby,” Eddie fawns, as his stiff cock finally grows flaccid. He grabs your chin to give it a sloppy kiss, and your eyes follow intently as he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He licks the evidence off with his teasing tongue. “You gonna be my pretty lil baby on the low?”
“As long as you don’t forget to call this time,” you issue a playful frown.
“Don’t worry darlin’,” Eddie assures you. “After what you just did to me right now, I’m never leaving you alone.”
When you both finish cleaning up, Eddie follows your lead as you two head outside. He goes back towards his friends at one corner of the backyard while you walk over to the nearest cooler for a popsicle. And as the party draws on, you two mingle around, talk, and party with all the others... as if nothing happened.
And even though you're able to play it off like it's no big deal, Eddie's words were all you could think about for the rest of the day.
“You gonna be my pretty lil baby on the low?”
Crying over spilled milk is almost never worth it. Sometimes it’s best swallowed with your pride.
tagging who seemed interested 🎀 : @tracymbcm @eiightysixbaby @katethetank @mikalovesmusic @munsonscharm @wonderlandwalker @mayaluvzyou @skrzydlak @buckybarnsishot @eddiesxangel @xxbimbobunnyxx @justmeinadaze @nailbatanddungeon @mediocredreams @littlexdeaths
thank you so much for tuning in :)
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blorbocedes · 2 months ago
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For the trope mash-up: didnt mean to turn you on + innocent physical touch for franco 'milf-hunter' colapinto and checo/lewis
okay hear me out. what if checo was a woman instead 🤭🫣
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Checo's had a fucking year.
The car is shit. She's been saying for so long but now they finally believe it as even Redbull’s wunderkind Max struggles in it. Every other interview, news cycle is about her retiring, her being unceremoniously kicked out as drivers salivate for her seat, her middling performance due to early pre-menopausal hormones? Just 2 years ago, she was the Mexican Queen of Defense, and now it's 'is she Redbull’s DEI hire?' The stories have become outlandish, announcing her second pregnancy and retirement at Mexican Grand Prix. That's why after Daniel, who had very clearly been brought in to replace her, was switched mid season she posted the Wolf of Wall Street clip on her instagram to make it clear: I’m not fucking leaving.
So forgive her if she's been seeking a little respite elsewhere.
There's a hot, young Argentine at Williams that's been eyeing her. Checo’s a woman on the F1 grid, she's been eyed like that thousands of times, most of it unwanted. Although, it fell off after she birthed the twins and her tits never returned to their glory days. So it's a little flattering reminder she's still got it. Being able to speak in the same language also helps, not having to translate everything for doublespeak. They have rapport.
“How old are you?” Checo asks at the club. She's not there to celebrate, she just needs a drink. Franco’s at the stage where finishing a race is cause for celebration.
“Twenty five.” Franco replies in her ear entirely too quickly, with a grin.
Checo raised an eyebrow. She didn't keep track of the rookies but she sure as hell knew they weren't doing twenty five year old rookies anymore.
A group of tourists seem to recognize her, probably fans and she's in no autographing mood so she pulls Franco in closer in front of her, to block her five foot four self from the world. He misreads the signal, but is all too happy to step in closer; personal space be damned.
“Okay. I lied. I didn't want to freak you out.” Franco confesses sheepishly.
Checo drinks her whiskey, assessing it. “I was winning karting races while you were in diapers, yes?”
It makes her feel old just saying it. She doesn't know how Fernando does it.
Franco nods, pupils going dark.
“And…” she raises her left hand, eyes pointing to her wedding ring.
Franco smirks. “I don't mind if you don't.” He leans in for the kiss, and Checo leans back denying him. Too public. She's learned from that mistake. She does put her left hand on his nape, stroking it and praising the boldness. It's dangerous, sleeping with another driver. When you're a woman, it gives them too much power. That's why Checo never acted on Max's obvious interest. But Franco doesn't have a seat next year yet... as temporary and harmless to her prospects as it gets.
“Come on,” Franco’s voice betrays the frustration underneath the trying hard to be suave, “I know you're thinking it too. You'd rather be on a boat with me than this totally lame club. And what I might lack in experience, I can make up for in stamina.” He practically purrs in her ear.
“A boat? Williams is not paying you that much.” Checo laughs, even as she entertains the line about stamina. James is a penny pincher to a fault. And Franco might get F1 groupies impressed with that line, but as the primary breadwinner she knows a little better.
Franco’s undeterred. “Your boat then. I can be your yacht boy.”
Now wouldn't Checo love to be sunning on a boat, no kids running around, being waited on hand and foot by an eager, younger man who can go for round two in ten minutes. God, she hasn't been filled up in a satisfying way in so long, her cunt throbs at the fantasy, aided by the tall, warm body in front of her.
Checo bites her lower lip, and looks around. Nobody around them in paying attention to the dark corner they're in anymore. She takes Franco’s hand and places it over her breast, holding his gaze. For all his smooth-talking, Franco seems momentarily stunned, mouth parting in surprise. He has naturally red lips, Checo wants to bite on it. He tentatively squeezes her breast, and after seeing her nod, starts kneading it, thumb trying to find her nipple through the layers of her polo shirt and sports bra.
“Can I please eat you?” Franco’s voice is husky as he begs.
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bigbadvoxbox · 9 months ago
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Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, he takes Lucifer's wife so he can get back at Lucifer I love your posts
THANKS ANON
warnings: previous lucifer x reader. unprotected sex (don't do this). degradation if you squint? like a brief mix of both degradation and praise.
- Lucifer's pretty ex-wife, almost looking more like an angel than a demon, which was one thing that Adam found pretty appealing. The attractive appearance, with the subtle demonic features? Badass. He was into it.
- Puts his plan into action. He knows usually he can get any girl he wants, he's fucking Adam, but you're gonna be special. You were Lucifer's bitch (affectionately), so he wants to make this BIG.
- He plays it real cool. Lucifer almost hands you over himself, sending you to a meeting Adam had requested instead of showing up himself. This was the second time Lucifer had bailed like this now, what a little bitch. He can't help but feel lucky that even after splitting, you were still on okay enough terms for Lucifer to ask you such a favour.
- You have a little chat, and he plays a few harmless little jokes on you. It's been a while since you've laughed this way, and you confide in Adam that Lucifer wasn't the most social. You missed him. He stayed locked away in his room, and you got a small "hi, sweetheart" now and again, but it just wasn't the same. Not compared to how he used to hold you in his arms, sing songs to you, like a fairytale type of love. You missed that. Which was why you left him.
- Adam couldn't help but scoff at this, he should've expected as much from Lucifer.
- "Y'know, he missed out on some good shit. You're a fuckin' hottie. I don't know what he was doing ignoring a babe like you." He says. It's meant to be... comforting? Maybe? In his own way. You're a little confused, but also a little flattered?
- You two start to gossip like friends would, and you become more comfortable with the man sitting a few seats away from you, completely forgetting about the business portion of this meeting (a.k.a. the bullshit Adam made up to even get the meeting in the first place).
- He brags about himself a bit, and you can't help but find it the littlest bit charming, in a funny way. He talks about his band, how he "fuckin' shreds like a badass" on the guitar, and how the fangirls go crazy for him.
- "I'm not too interested in them though. I have my eye on someone else. I mean- yeah, they're cute 'n all, but nothing compared to this one chick I've been thinkin' about lately. She's somethin' real special." he explains.
- "A cute little lady whose shitty ex-husband left her feelin' so lonely... and unsatisfied too, I bet."
- That's when you catch on, taking notice of the subtle flirtatious smirk that plays on his lips. You feel your cheeks burn the slightest bit, and you turn your head away, a bit speechless.
- Adam knows he has you now.
- A few sweet words later, and steps closer that you didn't even really seem to notice him taking, too busy focusing on his (slightly vulgar) flattery, you now feel each other's breath against your faces. The moment is tense, and his lips, now exposed after he removed his mask, ghosting over yours.
- The mask was quite the reveal. But you had to admit, he was not at all bad looking. He wasn't exceptional, but he didn't need to be. You liked him just the way he was. In this small meeting he had shown you more kindness and attention than your husband had in a while.
- One thing led to the next. A flirtatious glance, a gentle brush against each other's hand, and next thing you know, you're laying on your back on the meeting table, Adam between your legs, his lips on your neck.
- He can't help but leave you absolutely covered in hickeys. It's nice to be possessive over something. Someone who's his now. He finally turned the tables on Lucifer, and that thought can't help but bring a smug grin to his face.
- When he was joking around earlier, calling himself the "dick master" you thought he was kidding.
He was not.
- He fucking pounds you into the table, one hand on your waist, the other on your tits, feelin' you up and teasin' you to get you all flustered. He wonders how long it's been since you felt this good, but don't worry, he'll make you forget all about that.
- He can't deny that you feel (ironically enough) fucking heavenly. It's like he can't get enough of it. Not only is the sex itself amazing, he just can't get enough of the victorious feeling of getting back at Lucifer.
- Trust me when I say he has you SCREAMING. He's so fucking glad he didn't use the hologram, instead taking the risk of going down to Hell himself, just for the opportunity to feel that cunt on his cock.
- "That's a good fuckin' bitch."
- He honestly can't even quite help the filth that just comes out of his mouth so naturally, his language vulgar but.. kinda hot?
- He can't help but cum inside you and fill you up, groaning a drawn out "Fuck yes." as he hovers over you on the table.
- He's pretty happy with his new badass demon bitch by his side, and his visits to Hell on "business" become a lot more frequent. The business in question is just him fucking you in every possible position, leaving you covered in hickeys, kisses, and bite marks. You're all his now. Suck it, Lucifer.
THATS IT
it's almost 4 am so this is not at all proofread
so if it's shit
i'm sorry
edit: the cheating part made me feel bad so i switched it up
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adalwolfgang · 1 year ago
Note
S/O flirting with Sinclair brothers
Thank you and love you💜💜💜
Sinclair brothers reaction to being flirted with.
Warning: These reactions are from my viewpoint on the characters and their backstory in the movie. So I tried making their reactions as real and accurate as possible.
Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner(s)
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Beaugard (Bo) Sinclair : 8.3/10
Caught off guard
“Now hold on a damn minute. I’m supposed to be the smooth talker!”
He isn’t opposed to the idea of someone flirting back at him, especially if you’re a tourist since that just tells him you’ve taken the bait of him just being a charmer. But now if you’re both together? He pouts, trying his best to hide his warm face. It’s not that he doesn’t like you flirting with him, it’s just he doesn’t like the idea of someone getting a reaction out of him. Especially when it comes to flirting. He much prefers when he can make you a hot mess and turn into a puddle.
Lester Sinclair : 8/10
Flattered
“Aw, yer makin’ me blush!”
He loves the attention. Both his parents never gave him the attention like Bo and Vincent got so to get it from someone now? He’s lovestruck. If you’re a tourist and quickly start flirting with him, he’ll get on his knees begging Bo to let him keep you. All the tourists he’s encountered were nothing but rude and disrespectful towards him. But you flirting with him and showing interest? Sign him up. Now, that being said. If you two are already together and you start flirting with him. He acts like a school girl. It’s flirty banter back and forth between the two of you as both of y’all’s faces get warmer with each word.
Vincent Sinclair : 9/10
Extremely flattered
Vincent was always reassured by his mother that he was a handsome boy. Hell, he knew good and well she favored him over all 3 of them. When you first met, finding him in the wax museum while your group was off getting killed doing who knows what, you started praising his work and also his looks. Complimenting his hair, his clothes, and his mask. By the time you ran out of things to compliment him on, he was a flustered mess under his mask. Quickly he decided that you would live since he so longed craved for that praise that his mother used to give him. Now, just like with the other two, if y’all were both already together and you started flirting with him, he’d crave more. He wouldn’t want you to stop flirting. He enjoys the attention. He’s been raised with having all the attention on him due to his mother babying him til her death so to get attention from you? He’s struck gold.
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 5 months ago
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How would the One Piece Straw Hat pirates interact with Yor Forger reader?
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-It was a chance meeting, when you met Luffy the first time; you were going after a target, working as a bounty hunter, after you landed in this new and strange world, one you seemed to fit in with, with your raw strength.
-Your target ran into Luffy, knocking the take-out box he was eating out of his hands, sending it to the floor before you leapt over Luffy, dodging him as he was lamenting his food before he chased after the two of you.
-You leapt up, twirling in the air as if you were dancing as you took out your target. Luffy was sparkly eyed, “So cool! You were amazing!!” you were panicking that you had been seen by him, remembering your old life where you had to leave no witnesses.
-It was like night and day with you, when you were on a job you were so icy, so serious, but you were so sweet to Luffy, offering to buy him another takeout, which made him cheer loudly before he asked you to join his crew, “We need an assassin!”
-You were flattered, but you were grateful for his assistance in giving you more stable work and a home, and you instantly agreed.
-When you arrived on the ship, Sanji and Brook were both cheering loudly, seeing another beauty on board, and while a bit shy at first with them, you grew to like them, finding them amusing.
-Zoro could instantly tell that you were way stronger than you let on, as did Jinbei and Robin, as if they could sense your power, but as Usopp and Chopper reported, after they followed you, you were kind of an air head, trying to learn to cook alongside Nami and Sanji.
-Nami liked you, you had a vibe about you that was just soothing to her, you were intelligent but also a bit ditzy, you were a hard worker, and you never gave up.
-Franky thought you were interesting, as you were amazed by his inventions, Usopp’s as well, telling them how you came from another world, telling them about the gadget you remember seeing.
-When another pirate ship attacked, everyone was ready to go on the assault before Luffy beamed brightly, “Y/N! Show us what you can do!” you were startled by his praise before you beamed brightly, pulling out your weapons with a bright smile, “I’ll do my best!”
-You stepped up onto the ledge of the ship, inhaling deeply while the others were all watching, curious as to what you were able to do before you took off like a shot.
-Screams quickly filled the air as you shot around, your weapons catching the light here and there as you shot through the enemy crew, using your deadly precision.
-As you struck down the last one you leapt up, landing in a crouch position on your ship. Several of your crew members were wide-eyed and their jaws on the floor, stunned by your skills as you squeaked lightly, looking a bit embarrassed, “Forgive me- I’m not used to others watching!”
-Their loud cheer took you off guard, surprising you as Luffy and Chopper leapt into your arms, all of them praising you on how amazing you were. You couldn’t help but smile, hugging them back- you were so happy to find such lovely people in this new world!!
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kittencomicslol · 4 months ago
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Gyutaro x Artist but gyutaro is their Main Muse and they just lobe drawing or sketching him!
Gyutaro x Artist! Reader headcanons :3
______
LOVEEEE THIS IDEA UGHHH I LOVE DRAWING HIM SO BAD HE IS SO COOL AND BEAUTIFUL ❤️❤️❤️
His body is so so cool and I love drawing it and writing about it gyah he’s so cool.. you will definitely hear my rambles and interest in his funky little critter body in this.
Only possible tw would be Gyutaro struggling w why anyone would find him pretty but that’s a given so yah
I’m so sorry this took me a long time to put out, I know I say this like every blue moon I post but my life is fr crazy 😭 it’s getting better tho. I just do these for fun and comfort and i appreciate prompts/requests for when I’m in the need to relax and write about my favorite little guy
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•Gyutaro has not a single clue why you seem to be so infatuated with creating art of specifically him
“The entertainment district has so many unique pretty people in it, those who are leaps and bounds more handsome than he is. So why him?
•At first he was even angry to think you would try to gaze upon him in an artistic light before anyone else. He was hideous, he didn’t deserve to be drawn or painted.
•But you didn’t seem to think so
•He would never admit it and prefer to only display his annoyance, but he really was flattered the first few times.
•When you asked to draw him he laughed, because why would you want to do such a thing? He thought you were joking. You were in the entertainment district, a place with some of the most beautiful people in all of Japan!
•But yet.. you insisted on doting upon his hideous form and praising his appearance. showering him with gifts from your natural talent of creativity and your dedication to craft.
•Of course he was envious at first.. of course you were talented. beautiful, nice, and talented. He hated all of those things.
•But he didn’t hate you.
•Gyutaro would unconsciously be annoyed due to thinking your artistic ability is natural born talent. It wasn’t fair how so many humans were blessed with those gifts while he himself seemed to only be cursed with suffering and imperfections.
•Though, after watching you work and create so many different pieces even he himself was able to notice how subtly you improved or when you messed up.
•And of course he noticed because no matter if he would express it or not at first, he adored you making art of him.
•Gyutaro was naturally a very attentive demon. The man grew up on the streets racked with danger and disease. Such living conditions were a constant battle to survive and in order to do so, he needed to be aware of his surroundings.
•His nature to pick up on smaller things only intensified when Ume was born because now he was watching over her, and he deemed her life as bounds more valuable than his own.
•He loved seeing you fail or mess up at your art.. and it wasn’t in an exactly sadistic or crude way like he would feel when seeing others fail. With you, it felt like he was watching you learn and grow. He was witnessing your failure and proof that your talent wasn’t natural, You had to work for it. And something about that struck a chord in him.
•Embarrassment was always a very common emotion for him to express when you asked for a better look at him.
•’I want to see your back better, I need to see the way your spine curves.’
•‘Let me see you up close so I can get your birthmarks right’
•‘Can you show me your hand?’
•Every single little question you asked always gave him butterflies, both from nerves and him becoming flustered.
•But over time as you two bonded; he became much more comfortable with sharing his body with you.
•His small crude comments about how ‘pointless’ your art of him was gradually turned into quiet mumbles of appreciation or gentle praise.
•Sometimes, if you get lucky he will allow you to touch him. Trailing your hand down his odd protruding spine, or delicately brushing your fingers over his ribs that were barely covered by his skin.
•One time he even let you feel his stomach.. if you could even call it that, and where his abs were just to see how his strange anatomy worked. That interaction didn’t last for long as he got far too flustered and anxious to let you continue, but it was still fascinating nonetheless.
•Gyutaro was almost constantly put off but your compliments about the parts of his body he hated the most.
•His disgusting marks? They were pretty, and looked like paint on a canvas to you.
•His visible ribs? They were unique, a wonderful oddity.
•His crooked spine? One of your ‘favorite parts’ of him to draw
•His bloodshot down turned eyes? They looked like gemstones to you, sparkled like the stars.
•It was like any aspect he found repulsive about himself, you saw it the exact opposite.
•There was one small interaction Gyutaro didn’t think he would ever forget, something that touched him in a way he had never felt before
•It was common for you to show Gyutaro new drawings you made of him.. working as Daki’s artist you only had so much time to ever gift him with full pieces.
•Not that he cared, at this point if you gave him a stick figure and said it was him he would be grateful you even thought of him.
•Perhaps that was only because of your close bond.. if another human did that things probably wouldn’t go so sweetly.
•He wished he had a better place to keep such cherished things though all he had was the little cave where him and Daki stored food and skeletons.
•Nevertheless, you liked to doodle him a lot in quick sketches that you almost always displayed to him. Usually you came to sit with him when you would draw him to get reference for something about his ghoulish unnatural form, especially for his birthmarks. He had so many he was used to you coming in with near finished drawings that still needed reference for where his spots were.
•Eventually, you stopped asking for such things and it almost made him sad. Did you just loose interest?.. he wouldn’t blame you, he was hideous.
•Of course that was him being overly negative and unrealistic. You still frequently showed him art you created of him, so he had no reason to think that. But he usually wasn’t very logical when it came to thoughts about his own body..
•One night the two of you ended up in the same room together for a while, Gyutaro glancing over to you for a moment..
•”(Y/N)..”
•He croaked out your name in his broken voice that you never seemed to comment on. Almost instantly you raised your head and turned all of your attention onto Gyutaro
•“Hm?”
*The demon let out a small huff. He felt pathetic asking something like this. He was an upper moon demon, he shouldn’t care.
•“Why did.. why did you stop visiting me whenever you draw?”
• he forced out, letting out a small sigh as soon as he did. He had to use restraint to hold himself back from hiding his face in his palms
•But instead of ignoring him or saying you got sick of looking at his ugly face, you chuckled.
•”Taro, I’ve drawn you so many times I already know what you look like. I even have your marks memorized.”
•He went quiet, his face flushing a crimson hue from your response. There was just.. no way. You couldn’t be real. What had he done to deserve you?..
•”Oh..”
•Was all he was able to manage out, too flustered and dumbfounded to come up with a proper response.
•If he wasn’t in love with you enough before, he was far past head over heels by now.
•The concept of abstract art interested him as well, and he would always be very grateful whenever you would explain how some people found deep interest in things that looked.. less than appealing.
•One of Gyutaro’s favorite small details he always picked up on was in your doodles of him.
•Sometimes you liked to add something extra onto your work to make it more lively, and whenever you did that with him it would always be little hearts around him.
•Things so small yet so meaningful were things he had always loved, and this was definitely no exception.
•When you displayed your art to others you could never exactly display him.. though you sometimes added little details that you knew he would notice
•Little black splotches around the canvas akin to his marks, small Kanji for the number six sometimes appearing.
•He knew you couldn’t exactly ‘show him off’ and he knew you probably wouldn’t want to if you could.. but even so, seeing you do something that still counted as showing him off meant a lot.
•Even if nobody else noticed or knew, he did.
•He noticed all of the little details, the stray lines, the mistakes. Every little thing about your art he adored
•The same way he adored you.
————
WAAA!! I wrote most of this months ago at like 12AM and I am astounded that it actually held up and I didn’t have to completly re-write it. Just finished it up
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mrrecaswife · 1 month ago
Text
Ophelia by Heyser
Late afternoons/evenings with Mr Reca where you two sit down on the couch and watch a movie.
Or more like, you trying to watch a movie while he points out all the flaws in it (or praises it if it's one of his works to flatter his ego, the little shit)
Then, one day, you manage to get an obscure, one of a kind, old series that is set in an ancient period in a blue planet that will not be named for legal reasons.
The story is kind of predictable, or so your lovely director points out. It's some kind of long, 45 minutes to one hour long episodes with a noble vibe that you can't quite shake off. The decors are beautiful, the clothing looks fancy, the plot has a good balance of plot and romance, and the characters are just dreamy, especially the male ones.
You quickly discover after talking to your data obsessed friend that it is a 'regency' style work of art, and you quickly search to get more of it on the net. You dreamed of being in there, with the characters and the landscape, living out an innocent historical fantasy in such a romantic place.
Meanwhile, the gears in the director's head are turning.
If you managed to get into such a setting, for real this time, you would probably swoon all over him like you do with the characters on-screen, right?
So, (after a lot of teasing from your friend, who did help him out of what seems to be pity) after a while, he manages to get a set just like the one on television.
He's practically vibrating with excitement at how this is going to turn out and his imagination is running wild. You will surely love this. As the last preparations are made, he sends you a quick text to meet him at his location.
(the data collector that is your friend is snickering slightly behind her hand. He really is jealous of a mere show, it's so pathetic of him, how cute!)
(when you discover this, you do admittedly end up giving him kisses and swoon all over him. He did work hard for your little daydream to happen, after all.
Mr Reca ends up being very happy and even more excited to start his own movie of this kind with the both of you as the main actors. As glad as you are that there is a new project that interests him, you might have to calm him down a little before he starts harassing your history nerd of a friend (who actually needs to work and not procrastinate for her own sake) to get more info on that period.)
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u3pxx · 8 months ago
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PLEASEEE can you elaborate on the gavinners i cant stop looking at them theyre so pretty
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sometimes i forget that outside of my friends and servers, i don't really talk much about my gavinners boys* huh! so basically, i originally wanted to make them so i could beef up turnabout serenade in my roleswap au, kind of like turnabout samurai where you have a lot more characters which in turn means a lot more suspects!
but then i realized, wait, i need to make them in the canon-verse first before i could make their swap au counterparts! and so now they exist pftt
here y'all go, i'm gonna be copy-pasting the character descriptions i wrote for them during art fight pftt <3
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🥁 DEIDRE MINUENDO
Height: 5'7" (170 cm), 5'9.5" (176) with boots on Birthday: Jul 7 ♋︎ | Pronouns: He/Him, She/Her, They/Them
Deidre is the seemingly gloomy and stoic drummer of the band The Gavinners! At first, it could be difficult to get a read on them but despite all that, they're just like that because they prefer saving their energy. It might not look like it, but Deidre enjoys company even if they're not the most chatty with it and thrives the most when they are around other people (she prefers it if she's around the people closest to her though). Deidre is pretty sensitive and an emotional person even if they don't outwardly express it. To the people close to them, Deidre has a sarcastic streak and can be pretty snappy when it comes to teasing. She can dish it but she can't take it however as they can get slightly irritated when they're teased back. Even if they are a rockstar, they can get embarrassed when people praise or say nice things about them to their face, he tends to brush affection if even if he is secretly flattered by it (he's not gonna admit it though pftt) They also enjoy doodling here and there and like stuffed animals (they have a few of their own!)
Deidre was the closest to Daryan so the events of 4-3 affected him immensely. They felt betrayed and confused and tried to deny that Daryan would be capable of taking another person's life; they scrambled to do everything to protect Daryan from omitting information and even lying on the stand. In the end, all of their efforts were for naught and they felt incredibly guilty for what they've done, especially since she started antagonizing Preston when he was starting to suspect Daryan. They cut themselves off from the group, their job, and stardom. They ended up severely depressed and started to rarely go outside anymore. Only Doremy (Daryan's twin, also a close friend of his) was able to reach him during this time while Viva tried to but he kept refusing to see him. It took them a long time to finally be able to reconnect with the group and it took them a lot of help and support to be able to be well again. Deidre carries Daryan's betrayal to the group heavily and it took a while for her to start forgiving herself.
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⚡ VIVA CHI
Age: 25 | Height: 5'9" (175 cm) Birthday: Jan 1 ♑︎ | Pronouns: He/Him
Viva is the lively and energetic bassist of the band The Gavinners! Though he may seem goofy and a little unserious, he actually is pretty responsible and is the mediator of the band (as the eldest brother of his siblings and the eldest of the band, he kind of made that his responsibility). He's a forensic scientist and has always had an interest in science alongside music ever since he was young (he thinks Ema is very pretty but she finds him annoying pftt). Viva was the last one to join the band when they were all in high school and despite his extroverted personality, felt a little shy at the time getting to know a new group of people (it's because Preston was there who he may or may not have crushed at while in high-school.) He's a lover of all things caffeinated (especially energy drinks though he should really pace himself) which isn't always the best match to the fact that he's got terrible anxiety and thinks himself down a spiral when he gets too worried.
Once the band disbanded after the events of AA4, Viva, though left in a bad place with his anxiety shot through the roof, fared better compared to the other members. He tried his best to keep in touch with everyone with varying successes despite Daryan's arrest being fresh and hurt. - visiting Daryan in prison to hear his side of the story - popping in to check at Preston in his office because the guy started to take worse care of himself - contacting Deidre even if she was trying to isolate and cut herself from everyone and looking out for Klavier even if he buried himself in his work He took a break from music like everyone else, he still hopes one day they can meet up and play music again, not even as a band, but as a group of friends who loved creating music.
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🦇 PRESTON KEISS
Age: 25 | Height: 6'1" (185 cm) Birthday: Oct 25 ♏︎ | Pronouns: He/Him
Preston is the mysterious yet magnetic keyboardist of the Gavinners! Tall, dark, and bewitching; Preston is aware of the impression people have of him at first glance and likes to use that preconception to surprise and even catch people off-guard by purposely being silly or crass. He has a number of odd quirks and mannerisms that he doesn't realize he has, people tend to notice but they often let it pass because he is very handsome (pretty privilege lmao). Preston can sometimes be mischievous and finds certain things amusing only to him even if others don't find it as funny. He's always had an interest in horror and the macabre ever since he was a young boy which developed into a great fascination with the special effects used in old and new horror films alike. (He can be a bit jumpy when watching movies even if he loves to do it, he can't help it if the movie gets to him!) He plays up his whole immortal vampire schtick because the fans tend to theorize if he really was one. (He is not, he'd love to be one though pftt) Preston is very stubborn and adamant about his opinions and can be difficult to sway if he thinks he's correct; he is also quite awkward when it comes to personal matters, as can be seen in his strained relationship with his older sister and whatever romantic thing he's trying to achieve with Viva. He's used to acting larger than life when the cameras are on but being raw and honest has him feeling a little embarrassed and stilted. Preston smokes and keeps it a secret. (Don't tell Viva that!)
Preston was the first person in the band to start suspecting Daryan which he mostly kept to himself at first but wouldn't deny when you asked him (Deidre did not like that.) After Lamirior accused Daryan in court, Preston was determined to make Deidre confront the truth (unfortunately, not taking in why Deidre might be upset and in denial about it) which caused them to have a fight (with Viva being unsuccessful in de-escalating it.) After the Gavinners disbanded, Preston didn't feel very well after Daryan got sent to prison and lost contact with Deidre (whom he hasn't talked to since the case. [he misses them.]) He seemed fine afterward with his workload seeming to increase though upon closer inspection, he's started taking worse care of himself, skipping meals, and losing his interest in music. Preston has a lot of baggage to sort through regarding his friends and his family that will be difficult and painful for him to confront, but rest assured, he's gonna come out of it happy and well.
and here's a compilation of some very old turnabout serenade drawings too :^]
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(i didnt make dei's bday turnabout serenade on purpose, it was a tragic happy accident DFGHDJ i wanted his bday to be 7/7 bc i made daryan 6/6 but then the date. i realize the date orz)
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hi brainrot! for the mini/regular hc prompt (your choice!), we all know nadia's scientifically minded self admires mc for their curiosity in canon. i was wondering how the m6 would react to an mc who's extremely curious and inquisitive by nature, always asking questions to bond with others and learn about the world around them, but is maybe a bit self-conscious of it because their curiosity has sometimes been treated as a nuisance in the past (definitely not projecting lol 😅). what would the m6 make of mc's inquisitive nature? what would they think of mc allowing themself to show their love by being curious, asking them questions about what they're doing or something completely random just because? how would they reassure mc about that insecurity? sorry this is so long LOL, thanks for reading and no pressure to write this request! thank you for sharing your writing and i hope your hand feels better soon! <3
The Arcana Mini-HCs: With a curious MC
Julian: a true scholar, he's as invested in soaking up the information around him as you are. also finds your detailed attention flattering
Asra: it was so difficult early on, because of the headaches. now they're in love with how well you two enable each other's curiosity
Nadia: adores this part of you and loves questions she can research and then come back to you with answers for. constantly praises it
Muriel: has a hard time with it at first because of how much talking it makes him do. highkey loves how you light up with wonder from it
Portia: is exactly like you and adores it. might well up with happy tears that someone's finally interested in her the way she is in them
Lucio: look, after three years of no friends, having someone pay this much attention to him and make him feel this important is awesome
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ipostdumbthings · 1 year ago
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Romantic Headcanons for Bard Reader with BG3 Companions
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Astarion
Well, won’t you be the easy target? What could be easier to seduce than a bard? Honestly, he probably could just wait for you to try to seduce him first. Too easy. At least that’s how he thinks about it at first.
It’s not hard to choose you to seduce, of course, not only are you capable and competent, you also provide a little taste of civilization and creature comforts in the way of making camping more pleasant. Your music and aesthetic skills are the sort of luxuries Astarion loves to indulge in whenever he can.
In some ways he’s a little more guarded with his feelings around you, at least to start with. Bards have a reputation, and he finds your company just so pleasurable, that he realizes how easy it may be for him to slip. So until he is forced to confide in you, you’ll find he defaults to flowery praise of your talents as a tactic to avoid having any meaningful discussions.
When he does have to actually let you in, the thing he feared, being connected meaningfully with you proves to be almost immediate. After all, he just enjoys you so much. You’re fun. When you accept him for all the struggles, he finds himself vulnerable in a way that he may actually enjoy. He quickly becomes more willing to have these conversations with you.
While playing your music in camp, you’ll often spot him just watching you with the most lovely smile on his face.
Shadowheart
Shadowheart distrusts you, well, she trusts you initially because she has no choice, but she’s aware you have expert skills in deception. Something she herself trades heavily in, and that being the case, she knows she has to be careful taking you at your word. She does respect you for it though, she respects a well executed lie more than anyone.
Actions help her trust you, but honestly what really does it is being on the same side of the deceptions. She often finds herself fancying you as a partner in crime of sorts, you two having the same interests and needs has made you someone she can count on.
She doesn’t seem interested in your music at first, in fact, she’s often hanging in her tent while you are playing for everyone else. She can hear it from there, and does very much enjoy it. Just privately.
Once you two are on the path to romance together, though, you’ll find she’s the first to ask you to start playing. It’s one of the rare things that gets her happily interacting with the rest of the team.
She’ll tease you for it, but she does genuinely love the songs you write for her. Especially if they’re dark and mysterious sounding, it makes her feel understood and flattered. But to reiterate, she won’t actually tell you that. You’ll just have to realize it from the look on her face as you perform for her.
Gale
Gale finds himself smitten by you quite quickly, as a matter of fact. He’s a verbose man, and there’s few skills outside of magic that he respects as much as verbal cleverness.
So he quickly seeks you out during the evenings at camp for stimulating dialogue. You’ll likely have to endure quite a bit of him prattling endlessly about his passions, but if you engage with him on those subjects enthusiastically, he falls hard.
He may come off condescending about your magic at first, he kind of is, but the more he hears of your experiences the more impressed he is with what it is to you. For you magic is your art, it’s an expression of passion, skill, and freedom. He finds that so very charming.
He’s a bit shy at first sharing his poetry with you, more so than he’d be with others. Afterall, you’re sort of an expert on such matters. In the same breath, your approval of his work carries so much more weight. You’ll never see his chest puff out with so much pride as you do when you tell him you like one of his poems.
The next several he writes are all about you.
Lae’zel
Lae’zel finds you frivolous at first, and why would she not? She’s carving through the enemy with blades while you play an instrument.
It doesn’t take her long to figure out just how talented and useful in fights you are though. Be you casting a quick spell to patch up an ally, or rendering your opponents weak with a well delivered insult.
In fact your devastating burns are the thing she may find most appealing about you. You can do with a few well chosen words what others have to do with weapons. That’s a skill she doesn’t take lightly.
It’s this that causes her to reassess all your talents she’d deemed worthless to begin with. The way your fingers pluck at a lute speak to a dexterity and an expert level of skill. While she may not appreciate music the way others do, she often finds herself watching you play with admiration for your well honed craft.
She’ll tell you as much when she’s trying to entice you into sex, she’s always quick to highlight your talents as proof of your worthiness.
Wyll
Before there’s even the hint of feelings caught on either side, Wyll makes it known he’s very much a fan of your work. And that means the music, the magic, the skills, all of it. You’re a person that has a solution to almost every problem, and that’s something truly special about you. You’ll get no bard jokes from him.
He finds himself quickly picturing adventures with you. Imagine the tales of a bard and the Blade of the Frontiers! It’s just so easy to see a future with you where the two of you ride off into the sunset, righting wrongs and saving the day.
He actually finds himself nervous of your response when Mizora turns him, wondering if that could jeopardize that wonderful future with you. Your acceptance of his new form means more than anyone else’s. 
In fact he feels similarly about the dancing, a bard's disapproval of his skills would cut so much deeper than anyone else’s. You are worth the risk though.
Karlach
Finally, someone to actually perform the music for her dances. She adores you the second you first catch her dancing and immediately pull out your instrument for her. It even encourages her to test out new dances to see what songs you supply in response to them.
You are her fun, you are the lightness and the joy that she so desperately thrives on while dealing with such horrific circumstances. In that way, you’re her safety from the misery. 
Whenever you two are connecting and discussing those horrific things, she always asks you to play a nice song when she’s ready to move on from the subject. When you do, the softness in her eyes make her affection for you all the more obvious.
She’s very defensive of your instruments, she won’t let anyone in camp touch them when you aren’t around. She’s sweet about it. But firm.
Her favorite moments in camp are when everyone’s around the campfire while you play your music and laughs are easy. Those will be the moments she turns to when she handles her most trying moments.
Halsin
Halsin makes it clear very quickly how highly he thinks of your musical abilities, especially since it’s something he lacks. He’s quick to thank you for songs you play, and he always stops what he’s doing to listen and enjoy your music.
In fact, he finds the most beautiful and romantic moments between the two of you to be when you take your instrument for nature walks. He loves to find a place to sit and enjoy nature, as well as your talents. He could honestly do that for hours, especially if you’re cuddled up beside him while playing.
He’s just as impressed by your charm and magical talents. He loves watching your games of verbal chess in situations, and is honestly just so impressed with how much you can accomplish with your wit alone.
He’s probably the one that first most respects and values what bards are truly capable of, and he considers you a fine tribute to the profession. He has fewer preconceived notions about bards and their antics, and as such you find it easy to simply be yourself around him.
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