#protest etiquette
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stil-lindigo · 1 year ago
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fellow protest attendees, i am begging you to take safety measures, you simply can’t trust your government to not go after you if your face is clearly visible and documented.
hats, masks, bulky jackets if the weather allows it. In the aftermath of a number of BLM protests, people were identified from photos and arrested, just DONT take the chance.
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deathishauntedbyhumans · 10 months ago
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why is everyone at protests taking pictures. stop that. have we learned nothing from past movements. put your phone away. stop it.
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information pulled directly from this document from 2020, which was compiled from this site and this site
the chance of you being identified from your photos or of someone in your photos being identified is higher than you think. the chance of you being hurt at a protest is higher than you think. organise smart, organise strong, keep your fellow protesters and yourself safe out there.
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adhdbraingoburrr · 8 months ago
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Stay safe out there y’all, if we don’t stand together we all fall apart!
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grenade-cephalopod · 7 months ago
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If you go to a protest and narc because you think protesters are going "too far," you are undermining every single effort for change!
Revolution does not come easy, and that's exactly what this has to be. As long as nobody is being hurt physically (who did not instigate it!) there is no line. The otherside crossed the line months ago repeatedly. If it's not your cup of tea, don't engage. But know that they have just as much of a right to revolt as you do.
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genderfuckerymascedition · 10 months ago
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THIS IS A CHANCE TO SHOW YOUR OUTRAGE AT LEGISLATION BEING PUSHED WITH INTENT TO HARM AND DISCRIMINATE AGAINST QUEER PEOPLE.
Show up (as you're able) and help us to show Senators how angry we are!
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splatoon-countdown · 11 months ago
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I just had an idea. Perhaps we could all change our in-game nicknames to "FREE GAZA" or "SAVE GAZA" to show our support. It sounds a bit silly, but it could spread the message about this terrible genocide. Obviously, you should be doing so, so much more than just changing your display name in a video game, but it's an extra thing you can do maximize your support. Maybe after a protest, when you want to relax from the stress of it, you can still wind down with a game of Splatoon while still showing support. It would be awesome if this started spreading, and a bunch of people starting changing their display names to this, and maybe even made a bunch of plaza posts about it! If you have a following in the Splatoon community, you should reblog this to spread the message. Maybe even repost it to Twitter/X! I saw a plaza post about the matter and it made me feel even more determined to do all I can. The more of us who work together, the stronger we become!!
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andrrrgynous · 11 months ago
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i love that theres a photo of me and a friend at a protest going viral every other week bc our banner is funny but i can't rlly openly post about it bc it also goes viral on the wrong side of the internet and those mfs want me dead so
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nickysfacts · 1 year ago
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Who said protesting societal norms has to be a hassle?
🚬🚺☠️
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ghostofbriggiesmalls · 1 year ago
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And friendly reminder to USE WATER TO FLUSH TEAR GAS FROM EYES NOT MILK. WATER. NOT. MILK. There’s no reason to use milk. Period. Carry water. Drink it. Flush tear gas with it.
Also, not a requirement because it’s not always feasible, but if you have the time and resources, PLEASE take a Stop The Bleed course and get an IFAK (individual first-aid kit with stop the bleed supplies, not bandaids and shit - that can wait until home, this is about critical care). IFAKs MUST have a tourniquet.
A BELT IS NOT A TOURNIQUET IT WILL NOT STOP BLEEDING ENOUGH TO SAVE A LIFE.
Take care of yourself and each other. ❤️
Gentle reminder to anyone able to make it to any protests coming up please practice proper protest etiquette both for your own safety and that of others.
Wear a mask, cover any tattoos, and don't wear clothing with recognizable logos or branding. Don't take pictures of yourself or others. Don't talk to cops.
Protests aren't a fun event to post about on social media, we are trying to make an real change. Be safe and responsible
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odoraful · 5 months ago
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?
wanderer would prefer not to be stopped on his way home, especially when he's had a hard few days
content: wanderer x gn!reader; established relationship; 'kuni' nickname; pure fluff; just wanderer lowkey being a pathetic lover boy for you; 1.9k words
a/n: nothing else to say here besides i had a lot of fun writing this !! pls enjoy clingy wanderer !!
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“Hat Guy! Do yo-”
“Nope.”
Wanderer deadpanned, not even sparing a look at the scholar who addressed him as he walked past. It was at this point where most people would give up. Students of the Akademiya found that you had to catch the snarky scholar on a good day to strike up a casual conversation with him outside of the classroom. Unfortunately, this person was tenacious enough to not even let such an outright rejection faze him. Wanderer walked faster, only for his peer to match his stride.
“Hold on!” They cried out, slightly breathless from having to speed up. “You’re really not going to let me finish what I’m saying first?”
Wanderer scoffed. “What gave you that impression? My visible irritation? Or the fact that I’m actively trying to outpace you?”
“Hey! You don’t have to be so rude…” They frowned, voice trailing off in disappointment.
Finally giving the person a side-eyed glance, he recognised them to be a fellow Vahumana scholar named Mir. Whilst Wanderer could acknowledge Mir’s intelligence, he was far too soft-hearted for how stubborn he was. At that deflated comment, Wanderer stopped dead in his tracks. Mir wobbled, skidding on his feet to stop as well.
He considered using his flying abilities to leave Mir in the dust. However, this plan was only a fleeting thought as he recalled a stern meeting he had with staff at the Akademiya. They scolded that he wasn’t allowed to use his powers to avoid interaction with his peers. Something about misconduct and lacking etiquette that Wanderer half-remembered, choosing to nod along rather than actually listen to the prattle from the professors.
“Mir.”
He perked up. Wanderer could see his self-esteem reassemble at the mere fact that his name was remembered.
“What do you want?” Wanderer seethed, each word punctuated through gritted teeth.
If Mir felt intimidated at all by Wanderer’s ire, it showed little on his face. He only brightened further, seizing his chance to speak.
“I wanted to see whether you wanted to go to a social event later tonight at Lambad’s! There’ll be free drinks and food, and it’s really just a friendly get together to boost morale. It’s meant to be for us Vahumana scholars to catch each other up on the work we’re doing, and on what’s been going on in our lives,” he rambled.
What could simply be said in a few words Mir incredibly managed to do in multiple sentences. Wanderer let out a loud sigh.
“Mir,” he began, folding his arms. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve just returned from a long and arduous trip from the desert where you’ve used all your energy up to explore ruins. Would you want to spend what little time off you have for the day going to a crowded tavern with people you only barely know?”
Mir stuttered. It was the most Wanderer had spoken to him in one go.
“W-well, that’s a good question! I guess it depends on what kind of-”
“Just answer it.”
Wanderer interrupted, dismissing Mir’s frivolous technicalities with a wave of his hand.
“Alright! Probably not! I’d just want to go home and relax.”
“And there it is,” Wanderer opened his arms wide, like a magician revealing their latest trick, “my response to your invitation.”
He turned smoothly on his heel and walked off. Mir opened his mouth to protest, but none came out. He stood there slack-jawed at his own words being used against him. Fortunately, he didn’t follow any longer.
Wanderer would probably short circuit if he bumped into anyone else right now. What he had told Mir was the truth. He was on his way home from the Akademiya just after returning from a 2 day trip in the desert. He would have enjoyed the expedition far more if his professor hadn’t dragged him out on such short notice. Most likely, she had seen that his schedule wasn’t as busy for the next few days and roped him into a project of ‘great academic importance’. Time that would have been spent doing whatever he wanted to at home had been replaced by sweltering weathers and endless scribing of ancient tomes.
Fate was a truly cruel force. Especially so when it separated him from you without warning. At the thought of his partner, he recalled how he announced his departure. He had to leave that same day, and you had already left for work, so he scrawled a note and left it on the table for you to look at when you returned.
My professor has taken me on an research expedition last minute. I’ll be back in 2 days time. I’ll make it up to you.
Kuni.
Perhaps he would come back to see the same annoyance he had when dealing with Mir on your face at such a lukewarm message.
There was an inexplicable weight in his body when he walked. A dragging emotion that humans would probably label as tiredness. He needed to get home and fast. If he did arrive to a grumpy partner, he wouldn’t mind it. You were the only person who was actually worth dealing with in his eyes.
He looked around. The sun had retreated behind the horizon, and there were only a few people mingling around the street he was on. Perfect. It was empty enough for him to not cause a spectacle. Wind kicked up around him as he swiftly launched upwards, flying high above roofs. This would certainly cut his commute time in half. Quietly, he navigated the familiar streets towards home.
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Dots of yellow emerged below from hanging lamps across the city. The residents of Sumeru were preparing for the night, whether in revelry or idleness. The latter suited you more, as you began to unwind from a day of work and waited for Wanderer to arrive. The news that he needed to leave had surprised and saddened you a little. You were looking forward to spending more time with him over these few days when he wasn’t so busy with classes. If he kept to the words he wrote on that note, however, he would somehow make it up to you.
You held onto that hope as you folded clothes to be put away in the bedroom. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice movement outside as Wanderer approached the window on the second storey. Putting his face closer to the stained glass, your figure was rendered in an orange hue as he peered in. He tapped against the window with a finger.
You jumped with a yelp, turning towards the source of the disruption.
Honestly, you would have welcomed his arrival more warmly if the sight before you wasn’t so unexpected. Now, you couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh. Your boyfriend was hovering outside your bedroom window, staring at you like a rain-soaked cat waiting to be let inside.
You hurried towards the window, but didn’t reach out to open it just yet. Instead, you placed your hands on your hips, cocking your head to the side.
“We have a front door for a reason, you know.”
Even though your voice was muffled, he heard how you spoke in a sing-song manner.
“Well, I’m not at the front door now, am I?” He replied, matter-of-factly. “Mind opening up?”
Gesturing for him to step away a little, you unlatched the window and swung the glass outwards. Cool air immediately washed over your face, tickling your skin. He could hear the mild offense in your voice crystal clear now,
“I cannot believe this is how I’m being greeted after such a sudden departure-“
Your sentence cut off short as the wind got knocked out you.
Your boyfriend crashing into you mid-flight was a quick way to shut you up.
The force caused you to stumble back, falling to sit on the edge of the bed. Only then did the surprise settle in at what he was doing.
Wanderer had you in a tight hug.
Somewhat awkwardly, he was half-sitting in your lap, half-sitting on the bed. Shaking out of your stupor, you encircled your arms around his shoulders. Wanderer let his body fall limp, his feet now on solid ground. He buried his face in your neck.
“A-are you-”
“Don’t say a single word.” He said, voice low in warning. Though, the threat had little weight behind it with how he nuzzled into the hug.
Wanderer didn’t need to breathe to survive, but he had learned to inhale and exhale largely so that others wouldn’t gawk at him for his lack of breathing (he had honestly stopped doing it because of how bothersome it was to keep such a façade. However, after some convincing from Nahida about the necessity to get along with his peers, he begrudgingly adopted the habit once again). For you, it served another purpose. Clearly something or someone had riled him up earlier because his breathing had initially been huffed and short. Now, as he settled against your body, you felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, breaths slow and intentional.
“It’s only been 2 days, Kuni,” you pointed out with a soft chuckle.
His violet hair tickled your skin as he shifted his head, propping his chin up on your shoulder. Perhaps it was intentional that he kept his face out of your line of sight.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “I know.”
“Then why are you acting like you haven’t seen me in months?”
Wanderer scoffed loudly. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
It was a shame you couldn’t see his face, for the way he closed his eyes and scrunched his nose in embarrassment at his own clinginess would’ve given you weeks of material to poke fun at him for.
“I think you do because I haven’t the faintest idea why you’re acting like this.”
There was no way he was falling for the fake, sugary innocence in your tone. You were an unstoppable force and he an immovable object. He chose to remain silent as you continued,
“Oh well, I guess I should go and finish folding these clothes if it’s nothing important.”
Abruptly, you removed your arms from him and went to stand. However, the grasp Wanderer had around your waist meant you could barely even move. Even bending over proved to be fruitless for you.
“Those chores can wait,” he muttered, interlocking his fingers together to hold you in place.
Despite knowing that you were messing with him, a small part of him was irritated that you even considered putting such a menial task above him.
You giggled at how touchy he was being. Your boyfriend could hardly come up with a word of affection without looking like he was going to combust, but would stop at nothing at the chance to hold you. You raised a hand to pat his head, smoothing his hair down. Every grievance he had over the past 2 days melted away with each pass of your hand. Archons, he even started to feel like he went a bit too harsh on Mir.
“Don’t worry,” Wanderer could hear the smile on your face as you began gently combing his hair between your fingertips. “I missed you too.”
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pampushky · 3 months ago
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Mon Petit Doudou
Pornstar! Charles Leclerc/Pornstar! Reader - 7.4k
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here it is!! enjoy! please reblog and share and all that lovely stuff! getting your comments makes my day and seeing how excited everyone was for this made me super happy :)
uhhh anyway. Might be a bit inaccurate, I'm not all that well versed in BDSM stuff so if anything is like... a super negative connotation within the community that's inaccurate (besides one character who has bad etiquette for plot reasons sorry)
anyway lmk what ya think lmao
masterlist |
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He was too beautiful to be doing something like this for a living. With those bewitching hazel eyes. The effortlessly styled hair. His athletic build. The sweet slur of his accent as he lowered his voice to a sultry level when he talked to you.
But weren’t you as well? Wasn’t that why you fought so hard for your anonymity? That was why you had only ever allowed your mouth or lower to be seen in any stream or video, combined with the concealer that hid away any tattoos or marks from the prying eyes of those who watched you pleasure yourself on camera. Why you never wore your glasses to any professional shoot. It became a necessity to dress so differently on and off screen.
So why did it feel so weird now? Two of you, the same profession between you as you discuss plans for your… collaboration. Charles smiles at you. Stubbly beard and white teeth, a bit of the foam from his coffee clinging to his mustache. Perfectly styled hair as though he’d just stepped out of a convertible. You know you look similar. The soft cardigan slipping off your shoulders. Exposing the delicate tattoos of rue on your upper arms that circled your biceps and danced up to your shoulders.
Herb-of-grace. Purity. Innocence. How ironic for you, considering what your profession had turned into. From a part-time job to a serious career that often ended up having better benefits and more money. 
Charles leans forward, whispering something in French you don’t quite catch, making you frown as he cackles, leaning back. Other tables at the cafe look at the two of you, and you can see the adoration in their eyes. You look like the perfect couple. In a way, you are, just not a romantic one. A spoiled rotten sub and the protective, sweet dom.
“I think you should let them see the tattoos, no? I think they would like it,” Charles says, shit eating grin on his lips. “What does the rue flower represent again?” Because he damn well knows what it means, he just likes to tease you.
“You’re impossible,” you take a steady sip from your cup, looking down at the journal that you’d brought to jot any ideas or notes down in. “You are aware of that, right?”
“But the people like it.” Charles leans back with a shrug. “So. To continue…”
If only the other tables were close enough to hear any of your discussion. To hear the things he was suggesting. But you couldn’t even protest against most of his ideas— they were appealing. Sponsorship deals that both of you had been offered. Not only would your audience like it, but… well, you would enjoy it as well. You can’t help but the little smile that makes its way onto your lips when he nudges you under the table with his foot. 
“Don’t play footsie with me,” you kick him back gently, making sure to just brush his shin. “Who said it was my foot?”
“Har har.” You roll your eyes, but Charles kicks you again, and you can’t help but laugh with your head tilted back. “And was that your foot, this time?” “Wouldn’t you like to see, hm?” 
The rest of the video series is figured out pretty easily. The safewords, plot, who’s going to edit the videos (Max will. He’s one of Charles’s buddies who you’ve seen edit together the most filthy things from previous collaborations and blending everything together with a straight face while sucking on a fancy bendy straw leading to a tall can of Red Bull). You’re comfortable with it all, even asking if Max would be willing to let you use the straw for your water bottle during filming breaks when shooting more traditional videos. 
“Probably not. He’s very protective of it,” Charles says sagely, watching as you just doodle loops and loops of ink into your journal. “Do you still use the same brand of concealer? Just so I can have it on hand. The other bottle you gave me expired.”
“Ah, no, ended up having a bad reaction with it the last time I used it,” you scratch your neck and shrug the cardigan back on. Covering up the twin rue tattoos. “I’ll text you the new brand. I can bring it, too, because it’s a bit pricy…” 
“Don’t worry about it, I can get it.”
“Yeah?” 
“Of course,” Charles looks down at his phone when you text him the link, frowning more so about how you had thought you’d even need to think about buying it. A bottle of your matching shade is ordered by the end of his sentence. “You know that.”
“Tattoo seals are also a good thing to use,” You turn to reach into your bag, missing the way that he traces over the leafy, flowering tattoos on your shoulders. You push a few of the little stickers across to him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t have to worry about replacing or cleaning the sheets, then.” 
“Hm. My smart girl,” His praise falls easily from his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way your gaze seems to soften for just a second after it. “I’ll let you know,” Charles snaps a picture of a few and pushes them back towards you. “Stream in a few days then? Don’t forget the collar, mon chou,”
You just laugh, leaning back in your seat while finishing your tea. Like you haven’t been discussing an upcoming scene that will take place in your next shoot with your dom over coffee. How you’ll split the costs and whatever monetization comes from the videos, while also letting him spoil you with the tea and pastries you love. It’s almost like a date. Perhaps in another life, it would be such an innocent thing, and not the planning of a semi-niche porn live stream.
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Charles trails kisses down your neck, letting his stubble brush against you, chuckling as your skin flushes, leaving a wake of goosebumps and heated skin under his lips. The camera is on, but you don’t exactly see it, most of your face is pushed out of frame with how you’re lying across his lap.
“Are you going to be good, mon chou?” 
One of his hands rubs softly on your back, while you’re laid across his lap. You’re face down, and you know you’re positioned in a way so that the viewers will be able to see all of your body. You squirm gently, and nod, trying to tilt your head back so that you’ll be a bit closer to his face. You lay so that you’re facing away from the camera. Your tattoos have been carefully covered with a mix of concealer and tattoo patches. It’s warm, and you feel safe, your mind fuzzy as you slip into subspace. Your hair falls in small waves around the duvet, like a halo. 
Sitting comfortably against your neck is your newest collar. A lovely burgundy leather with brass d-rings and pressed eyes that have been carefully polished to shine. A few pendants hang off the D-ring, little gifts from Charles to you. The inside of the collar itself is lined with soft velvet, made to stop the skin from chaffing. Admittedly, Charles had splurged on it for you, wanting you to have only the best as he worshiped you.
“Uh uh uh,” His hand moves to cup the small of your back to stop your squirming. “Doudou, they want to see you. Don’t move so much,” He looks over at the screen, where a few messages are beginning to pop in. A few donations pop onto the stream’s overlay, displayed for all to see, along with the chat on the side, displayed by one of his other monitors.
ugh she’s so cute (€5) Is that a new collar? Looks so cute on her!! (€10) awww!! she’s getting so excited!! happy to see you both <3 (€20) Such a good girl, listening so well already (€5) Make her answer the question. Give a sub an inch and they’ll take a mile. (€50)
Charles frowns at one of the more recent messages in the chat. Very rarely did he ever need to punish you for being a brat or acting out of turn. Whenever he did do this, it was always scripted for the viewers. Played up, and a rare event that usually came after a request was put in for it, along with a substantial amount of money. But fifty euros is nothing close to what would substantiate any punishment, so he brushes over it and smiles at the chat as more tips and excited messages drop in.
“Oh, mon chou, they’re so happy to see you again,” Charles whispers, watching as the viewer count starts to grow as people tap on the notification that you’ve both gone live. More comments in the chat pour in. “Yes, she’s been so good lately, haven’t you, ma moitié?”
He runs a hand up and down your back, and then gently squeezes the swell of your ass. You squirm a little bit again and make a needy noise rather than answering.
Make her answer. She seems like a bit of a spoilt sub, needs a reminder of who’s in control. (€50)
The message donation floats on the stream overlay for a few seconds, before being replaced by more donations. The chat is a mix of more praise and excitement along with a handful of confused ‘???’ about the last donation message. It’s the same username as the other donation that had confused him a bit. His mouth quirks down into a frown before he quickly masks it with a little smirk as he looks down at you.  
“Doudou, have you been good?” Charles whispers softly in your ear, leaning down to ask you. His stubble brushes over your skin, and he gently rubs your lower back, encouraging you to speak. “They want to hear your sweet voice, bébé.”
“Uh–huh,” you mumble out, starting to squirm again. “Been good, sir.”
“Yes or no, bébé,” Charles gently reminds you, his touch still reverent around your skin as you lay across his lap, stomach facing down. “I know you have, but our lovely friends watching you don’t.”
“Y-yes, been so good,” your voice is soft, and his heart melts. Charles is already a very soft dom towards you. Never pushing. Never raised his voice. He doesn’t like using any crops or toys that can verge on pain. That’s just what the relationship between the two of you had become. 
she’s so cute!! Aaksfhasl so so good for us!! I just wanna see her cute little face (T^T) She’s so eager to please!! 
The chat is a blur at this point. Mostly compliments for your good behavior and how eager you appear to be to start the steam. Lovingly, Charles rubs your back again. Kisses the top of your head, and then gently starts to finger you open, prepping you for what you’d both discussed for today’s streams.
“There’s a bunch of toys we’ve gotten today,” Charles leans back to grab the little basket of toys, reading out their names and the slightly dry sponsor segments he knows he has to read. He lifts each one to show the camera, and you press your legs together with a whine as he reads out the descriptions the sponsors had given him for each toy.
He tilts his head back to laugh a little bit at your desperation and softly kisses the small of your back. 
“You should have seen her the other day,” Charles looks at the camera, while you let out little squeaks. You’re still on his lap and trying your best to keep still as he gently pumps in and out of you with his ring and middle fingers. “She was so good. Even when she had a plug in.” 
Hot hot hot omg
You squirm slightly at his words. Whining softly. Staying as still as possible just like he’d told you, lost in the sweetness of subspace. The tip of his middle finger brushes against a very special, spongy spot inside of you that has you keening into the duvet on Charles’s bed. 
“Oh? Did I find something?” Charles feigns disinterest while curling his fingers to press just a bit harder into your G-spot. He reaches with his other hand to grab the camera, wanting the chat to have a good view of your folds clenching around his fingers tightly. When he pulls his fingers out, they glisten with your wetness, and your sweet hole tightens around nothing. “Look at you, so responsive for me,”
He brings himself to a slower pace, no longer thrusting his fingers in and out of you with the same rigor as he had minutes before. You wiggle your rear at him again, craning your neck to look over your shoulder at him with a little sigh, your pleading look invisible to the camera. Just as his lips quirked into a small smile over your sass, another donation popped up just as he pressed the camera back onto its little stand. 
What an indignant little thing. Put her in her place, hopefully this helps you grow a pair. (€100)
Charles holds back every childish instance to flash his balls to the camera just to specifically show this donor that he does indeed have a pair, and a rather substantial set at that. You whine again, and without really thinking, he brings his palm down onto your left cheek, the one closest to the camera. It’s not too hard, and it sounded worse than it actually was. You let out a little yelp, and still, your hands fist in the duvet covers even tighter, looking over your shoulder at him with wide, shocked eyes. 
“You know better than to whine, you’ll get what you want,” Charles' gaze softens, and he already feels a bit of regret for spanking you without warning. The collar around your neck shifts a bit, some of the pendants hanging off the D-ring jingle together from how you’d jerked your head back to look at him. The little bell on the collar chimes sweetly, and soothingly, Charles continues to rub your left cheek, leaning down to softly kiss you out of frame. You whine, and he swallows all your noises, before leaning back in, looking at the camera while lovingly soothing the skin where he’d smacked down. 
To some satisfaction, he can’t see any new donations from that particular donor. He’ll make sure you feel nothing but loved, with the two hundred euros the person had dropped on it. Charles just smiles again, letting his hand still on your lower back, continuing with the stream as planned. 
An hour in and he’s had you nearly cumming on one of the rabbit toys sent to you. It’s smooth, and the actual toy part is a lovely mint green color. A very nice one, with several different speeds used to keep you squirming and whining softly under his touch. Small sighs of “—Sir— please—” and “Ch—Charles—” fall from your lips ever so often, and he even manages to coax a loud moan from your lips, which the chat goes insane about. When you do climax, you don’t even have the where-with-all to try and warn Charles. And he doesn’t even mind, he’s always been happy to just let you chase your own pleasure and highs. 
You whine, slumping against him, feeling him pull the still-vibrating toy from your folds. Your clit is puffy and engorged, and the chat loves to see how you whimper as Charles brushes his fingers through your folds, holding the camera close to give everyone a good view of your still-twitching cunt. 
so pretty now give her another!! Her whines omg Good Girl <3 (€25)  Such a cute little sub Wish i had a dom to take care of me like she does waaaa
Despite himself, Charles smirks, knowing his face is out of view while he gives everyone a good view of your slick heat. The donor who’d been provoking him hadn’t said anything in a while. He grins at every little noise you make, especially with how you whimper at his touches, still sensitive. But you don’t move away— you know you’re safe, and that he’d never do anything to harm you. You have safewords for that exact reason, and you’d never had to use them outside of practice scenarios Charles would make you do just in case. 
He settles the camera back onto its stand, tilting it down so that the stream can also see a bit of himself. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low around his hips. The waistband of his boxers is visible, showing off the V-line of his lower body, and the happy trail of dark brown fuzz that crawls up his torso. 
“Did you like that one, mon chou?” Charles croons, moving so that he blocks the view of the camera, purposefully hiding your pretty face so that you have a bit of time to reposition yourself. “Hmm?”
“Mhm,” your voice is dreamy, and your head lolls uselessly to the side as he strokes your cheek. “S’good…” 
There’s no need for you to call him ‘sir’ at this moment. He doesn’t even really enforce the title, it’s just something that slips out occasionally while he takes care of you. It’s adorable, in all honesty, the way that you talk when he’s truly gotten you into the hazy, carefree state that is your subspace, never so much as raising his voice when talking to you. That’s his brand. That’s your brand. Just a needy sub and soft dom pairing that verged on Charles having an obsession with you cumming and feeling safe while he’s there. 
The rest of the stream goes about as planned. Charles tries a variety of new toys on you, ranging from a dual-purpose clitoral suction toy that doubles as a dildo to vibrating anal beads that you are not much a fan of, but let him try them on you for the sake of experimentation. It all comes to the grand finale of Charles then having you bounce on his lap as you ride his thick cock, your walls clenching around him as you whine and wail out pleas for him. 
“That’s it, mon chou, you’re being so good for me, always so wonderful,” Charles squeezes your waist, guiding you up and down on his lap as you whine out a sound that might be his name. The camera has a wonderful view of your back, zoomed in to specifically see the way he slides in and out of you. Your cream covers his cock. 
You lean against him, your forehead on his shoulder as you gasp and pant. He can feel the way you’re loosely gripping onto his shoulders, not strong enough to scratch his skin, but certainly hard enough to remind him that you were here, if the warm wetness of your cunt somehow didn’t. 
“Where do you want me? Where, mon chaton?” Charles whispers against your head, and he is rewarded by you looking at him with a hazy glance, just for him.
“I-inside,” you whimper, trying to lean against him further, trying to get him to press his face against yours, stopped only by the fact that he needs to keep your face out of frame.
So he gently moves so that both of your faces are out of frame, his stubbled cheek against yours. Thrusts growing more rapid until you clench around him, trying to milk his cock for anything he may give you. He finishes a minute after, twitching inside of you, and breathing hard as he comes down from his high. In the back of his mind, Charles imagines his cum settling in your womb. Making a baby. Seeing you grow round as the months passed, needing help with simple things. Perhaps it would have if it weren’t for your implant and his vasectomy. Just precautions of the trade. 
Gently, he pulls himself from you, still panting. He brings the camera closer, giving the viewers a good look at how his seed trickles from your folds, mixing with your release. 
hot!! Eeeek!! breeding kink breeding kink She’d look so fucking cute all round with a baby Give her a baby!! (€20)
Charles pauses the camera feed for a few minutes, gently wiping at your core with a warm cloth and praising you endlessly as you mewl helplessly. The chat feeds into his little fantasy. He thinks about you as his housewife. Coming home from a normal office job rather than a studio shoot with other people. Kissing the rue flower tattoos on your shoulders lovingly, while his hands come to hold the little bump of your pregnant belly. 
But with a shake of his head, it’s gone. Because that isn’t your relationship with him. So he turns the camera back on with you settled in his lap, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies. You’re curled up happily, face nuzzled into his shoulder, hiding everything away from the camera’s view. He can feel you placing almost sleepy kisses on his neck, along with the contented sighs you’re making. 
As is the normal routine, Charles thanks everyone for their donations, while also allowing viewers to make requests in the chat. Answering questions about the little break from any streaming and videos the two of you would normally do. This is usually when more of the donations sweep in, much bigger ones. The notifications are delayed, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees one rather large donation come through. 
I’d like to commission something of the two of you. I’ll be reaching out to your business email after the stream, just to ensure that this tip doesn’t bounce. (€800)
It’s the same username as the donor who had dropped €200 earlier in the stream. Part of Charles feels incredibly uneasy over whatever this commission could entail, simply based on the comments they had made in their previous donations. 
But if they had been able to give over €1000 in a single stream…. Which was nearly a third, if not more, of the total donations…
You shift slightly in Charles’ lap, bringing him back to the present. You’re still lost, he can see that by the distant, glazed-over look in your eyes. What you need right now is a good bath, a bottle of water, and something to snack on while he massages the knots from your back. You can talk about the possibility of something like a commissioned video later.
“That’s…. Hm, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we, bébé?” Charles grins, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead, before bidding farewell to the stream, and turning off the camera. The donations still pour in for another thirty minutes, and that’s when Charles gets the light ping that everything’s done downloading, right as he’s gotten you to finish a bottle of water. He sends it to Max immediately, who’s already gotten the rough outline of how the video should look. Charles will go over to his apartment tomorrow to work on the specifics of what everything should look like, and then send the link to you for final approval to post. Knowing Max, the Dutchman is likely just starting to wake up as the world is going to sleep. He’ll probably have a mockup done just as the sun starts to rise. 
For now, Charles turns his focus to you, watching as you slowly munch on goldfish crackers, as if deep in thought. It’s funny, really, you’re so lost in your thoughts and somewhat spaced out still. But when you look at him, he can see the little grin on your face as he walks over to you. Letting you curl into his embrace.
“You’re all sweaty.”
“Mm. I was fucking you rather hard near the end.”
That makes you giggle, and you look up at him with a mischievous little grin. “You also spanked me.”
“I did.” Charles swallows a bit of his guilt down. “Are you sore?”
“No. It was… just unexpected.” You fiddle with the strings of his sweatpants, and he plays with the hair at the back of your head. It’s domestic and sweet. It could be a scene from the everyday life of any young couple. Charles feels like he’s in the wrong for wishing it was. “It startled me a bit. Nothing bad.”
“Sorry.” 
You just shrug, and let him help you out of the hoodie. With the utmost care, he peels off the tattoo seals. Wipes away the concealer. And helps you into the shower, washing away any of the stubborn bits of makeup that insisted on staying behind. The rue flowers bloom under his touch, and without really thinking, Charles kisses them, his lips trailing around your shoulders and upper arms as if he’s worshiping some idol. 
It’s the most intimate thing someone’s ever done for you. And Charles realizes he may have just crossed a serious line, looking back at you like a deer in the headlights as you stare at him over your shoulder, with a mildly sleepy gaze. His hands start to shake.
“Why’d you stop?” 
The way you tilt your head is sinful. That someone so innocent and willing to give and submit your body to him also looks at him in such a way. Asking such obvious questions when you already know the answer. Entering a relationship because of your shared profession with him could be catastrophic. You both work in such a niche of your industry when it comes to the kinks and roleplays you’re willing to work through that both of you would be screwed if feelings got in the way of your work. 
“Because we shouldn’t take it any further,” 
“What if I want you to?”
Charles nearly chokes on his surprise. The water is still warm around him. Your hair still has the conditioner in it, just soaking on your scalp as you wait for him to help you wash it out. 
“That’s a bad idea. We shouldn’t.”
“But you were just kissing my tattoos.” Your brow furrows. “That’s hardly the porn we normally shoot.”
“It’s—  it’s not about the porn—”
“Then ask me out.” You say it so plainly. As if it’s that easy… and maybe it is. “I like you.”
“What?”
“I like you. You seem to like me.”
“I do like you!” Charles blurts out. And then blushes violently, his pale skin turning a vibrant pink-red as he starts to rinse the conditioner out of your hair, making you turn away from him so he doesn’t get any of it in your eyes. He still feels guilty for spanking you without much warning. “But don’t you think this could be weird—”
“I think it could be nice.” You sigh, leaning into his touch. Entrusting him to put you back together after breaking you apart. “Don’t you?”
He can’t bring himself to speak after that. Drives you home. You watch him from the window of your apartment as the rear lights of his car fade away. 
The moment Charles is out of sight, he goes to Max’s flat. Pounding on the door hard until the disgruntled Dutchman opens up. He can hear Daniel moving around somewhere in the apartment, talking to one of the cats as Charles stands dumbly at the threshold of the happy couple’s home.
“What?”
“I think I’m in love with her,” Charles blurts out, and Max just scowls further.
“Mate, I could have told you that!” Daniel calls from deeper in the house, as Max pulls the panicked man inside, making him sit down in the cozy living room. Max’s computer set up is pushed into the corner, with a cat tower beside the desk. Sassy currently sleeps happily on the highest little bed, while Jimmy weaves through Daniel’s legs as the Australian offers a slice of pizza to Charles. “What finally made you realize?”
“She— she told me to ask her out. Wait— does that count as her asking me out—?” 
Charles’ voice grows more frantic, and his hands go to his hair as he starts to pace in the living room. Both cats watch him go back and forth, while Max settles at his desk, opening the file to start editing. 
“Who cares? Do it. You’ve been making moony eyes at her for the past year of working with her.” Max grumbles, clearly unamused by the drama of it all. 
“We make porn together!”
“So? That’s how I met Max.” Daniel tilts his head, at which point Jimmy does the same. The Monegasque frowns at him. “Didn’t stop us.”
“You’re both gay.”
“Ouch.” Max’s stoic tone is somehow cutting, even when he’s focused on the screen, pulling up the video Charles had sent to him, and then the outline on the other monitor. “I don’t see how that changes anything. The only difference is that I was Daniel’s editor rather than costar.”
Charles flops onto the couch. Daniel just looks down at the man, before looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “And how’d you respond?”
“What?”
“How did you respond to her asking you out?”
His face goes blank, and a look of realization dawns on his face. 
“I panicked?”
“How badly?”
“I kept— okay I responded pretty badly,” Charles admits, and then groans right into his hands, rubbing his face in frustration. He keeps thinking about how he’d kissed your tattoos. Had he inadvertently made you feel like you could ask that? Furthermore, were you really, truly asking that, or were you still somewhat caught up trying to be a good sub?
Images of you sleeping in his bed as the morning sun rises conjure up in his mind, followed by cooking together in the kitchen of his flat, and he can’t help but groan angrily at himself for letting such a fantasy with someone who he could call his coworker appear in his mind at this moment. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face as you sit across from him at the cafe, brushing your foot against his shins while sipping at your cup of tea. Your feet up on his lap while reading a book on his couch, pure domestic bliss. 
“Fuuuuck,” Charles just keeps his hands on his face. “She’s gonna hate me.” 
“She’s not going to hate you,” Daniel tries to comfort him. “Just tell her you need time to think about it.”
“No but— I was also sending mixed messages,” he mumbles, and he hears a long, drawn-out sigh from both Max and Daniel. “I was kissing her shoulders. I— I couldn’t help it, I felt bad, I kinda spanked her without warning earlier in the stream—”
“Gross.”
“I know! But this one donor was getting so pissy about how she was responding—”
“I’m sorry, you let someone who was watching and imagining touching her dictate how you were actually touching her?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Dude. You’re her dom, not to mention how many times you’ve been with her. Why would you get so possessive then?”
Maybe he is a bit possessive. Last year, during a studio-based shoot when another dom had been too rough with you, using your blindfold to practically drag you around the set, and spanking you much harder than he had originally implied he would, Charles had immediately cut the camera and kicked the man out of the room, not even letting him get dressed. He’d gone straight to your side after that, checking you were okay for nearly an hour before even considering letting the filming start again. 
That had earned him a bit of a reputation as possessive over his subs, you in particular. The lack of collaborations with any other actors certainly hadn’t helped much either, with your last one being with Daniel almost half a year ago, and that one had been a cuckolding video, where he had posed as the husband watching his wife getting fucked and bred by another man, not even touching you throughout the process besides a scripted kiss at the end. 
Now, Charles feels like he is 1.) the stupidest man on planet Earth and 2.) just passed up on an opportunity that you had presented him on a silver platter. He stares up at the ceiling as Daniel looks down at him. Maxis typing away in the corner, and makes a little ‘hm’ noise, likely getting to the part of the stream where he’d spanked you. 
“Wow. That sounded bad. Didn’t leave a mark though,” Max hums, and then starts to type again, before making a much more distressed noise. “No fucking way— Dani! It’s the fucking guy again!”
“Wha— really?” Daniel dashes over to look at the screen while Charles stays on the couch. “Ugh. What a fucking creep.”
That piques some interest.
“What?”
“Yeah— the guy with the weird dono? Total creep. Tried to commission me into some weird, non-con roleplay. Wanted to do a solo stream for just him, totally ignored all of my rules for that stuff, and outright told me to ‘Just suck it up’ when I used the safeword for some of the shit he was saying about me.” Daniel shivers, and for a moment, Max looks like he wants to strangle the man until his boyfriend squeezes his shoulder. Charles's blood runs cold. 
“What?!” Charles looks over the username again. MattiaBinn. “Jesus fucking—Je le tuerai moi-même pour avoir voulu que je fasse une telle chose avec elle—”
“English, Charles.”
“I’ll kill him myself,” Charles growls, and starts to march right towards the door, “I need to talk to her right now—”
“Or maybe we need to give her time to cool down,” Daniel reaches towards him, holding onto his shoulder and pulling him backward. “She probably still needs some space and to take care of herself after the stream, regardless of how much aftercare you did with her.”
Part of Charles hates that Daniel’s right. Another part of him says that no, you should be letting him take care of you. That’s what his job was as your dom, he was supposed to take care of you and make sure you didn’t experience sub-drop. You deserve only the best, and right now he’s not acting like that. Quite frankly, he’s being a bit of a self-righteous prick about his own feelings for you. 
His phone pings with a notification, and out of pure irritation, he considers silencing it, until he sees it’s an email from a frankly disturbing email address. From: Mattia Binotto. Subject: Commissioned Private Stream.
“Oh, putain de merde,” Charles groans, and quickly scans through the email. It’s exactly as Daniel described. Non-con, harsher treatment, and quite honestly, the opposite of nearly everything Charles did as a dom and that you would agree to. Infuriatingly, your business email has also been sent this. You text him not a second after he’s done scanning it.
Did you also get this?
It seems… uhm, interesting. 
Attached is a screenshot of the email. You’re awake, at the very least. Alert enough to be checking your business email. He texts back quickly. 
I’m not doing any of that.
That’s not the shit I do. Fuck.
…okay. 
Sorry, you seem to be in a bad mood. 
It’s not your fault
Please don’t blame yourself for any of this, mon doudou
I kinda feel like it is…
I didn’t mean to push any boundaries or make you upset about this
I am sorry, Charles.
Charles wants to bash his head against the wall because now he feels like utter shit for making you feel guilty about his own stupidity. Just as he’s about to text you back you send him a goodnight text. When Daniel glances at the screen he visibly winces. 
“Yeah. I’d give her some space.”
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Space turns into a week. Instead of the normal collab stream, you do a solo one. Charles ends up watching it. You’ve got an array of toys behind you, most pretty pastel colors or swirling abstract designs that make an odd pit settle in his stomach at the idea of them bringing you pleasure rather than him.
You’re currently fucking yourself on a dildo he’d gifted you, shaped like… certain sweet treat. It was meant to be a bit of a gag gift— the name of it was called the banana split, for Christ’s sake— but seeing you fuck yourself on it made him groan, palming the hardness in his pants as you gasped and whined. You were wearing one of his hoodies too, muffling your little noises into the sleeves. And the chat was loving it, encouraging you to keep going. 
And then the fucking donation showed up from that fucking prick Mattia.
Needy little thing. Do you think you deserve to cum? (€50)
The robot voice that read out the message had you whining, and you momentarily pause, before slowly lifting your hoodie to give the cam a better view, showing the slight bulge in your tummy from the toy resting inside of you before you started to bounce up and down on it again, rutting your hips forward as if that could provide some respite for the high you were chasing. 
“Y-Yes—wanna cum—” Your face is hidden, as per usual, just off-screen, but at the very top, he can see how your chin wobbles a bit as if you’re currently panting with an open mouth, “Please please please please—”
Hold it. Not yet. Needy little sluts only get what they need when they’re good. (€50)
Rage bubbles in Charles’ stomach. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was, first of all, calling you a needy slut, and then acting like you were his to take care of. Charles makes a note to ban him from both of your chats as soon as this is over. 
He can tell by your posture that you look startled, and the chat mixed. Some are telling Mattia to fuck off, while others are encouraging you to listen because Charles isn’t there. You whimper, confused, and Charles nearly screams, sprinting to get to his keys while the stream continues on his phone. He knows how insane he must look, having porn very audibly playing on his phone, but he doesn’t care, not as he starts his car and calls you. He can hear the phone in the background of your stream, and you whine even louder, the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on the toy pausing.
“Fuck, doudou, pick up,” Charles groans, his driving becomes more and more reckless as he gets closer to your apartment. “Pick up!”
The sounds of your stream seem to pause, and there’s a rustle as you move, hopefully reaching for the phone and—
Did I say you could do that, slut? Or are you too stupid to listen to directions? (€50)
Charles roars as he hears you let out a pathetic whine, followed by sniffles. How dare Mattia insult you like that, how dare he make you feel unsafe when you should be feeling nothing but safe and loved. He was going to find him. He was going to find whoever this Mattia Binotto was and beat the tar out of him.
“M’sorry— wanna be good—”
“You are good,” Charles’ mouth is dry,  right as he pulls outside the front of your flat, with a half-assed park job that’s likely going to get him a ticket if he stays there until morning. “You’re so good, mon petit doudou, just hold on,”
You’re not being good now. Apologize, you useless little slut. No wonder your dom isn’t here. What a spoiled little sub. (€50)
Charles fiddles with the lock, searching for the spare you’d told him about, hidden under a fake rock right off of your stoop. He opens the door, nearly forgets to close it behind him, and screams out your name as he tears through the kitchen.
Find your biggest toy for me. And show us how badly it hurts. Do it if you want to be good for me (€50)
When he manages to get to your room, you’re startled by his sudden appearance, and so is the chat. There’s a new, much larger toy positioned under you, the tip just brushing against your folds. The first thing that Charles does is cut the camera. The next thing he does is end the stream. A final donation, clearly placed before the stream ended appears on the screen, all the notifications from the tip jar making a discordant melody with your hiccuping sobs and Charles’ panting.
The donation makes him see red.
Fuck yourself. Slow. Let me hear you cry. (€50)
You let out a whimper, shaking, as you sink onto the toy, only to be scooped up by Charles. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s knocking around the toys and is probably making his possessive reputation worse. He’s not going to let you hurt yourself because some fucking pervert got in your head, and he’s furious that you’ve fallen for the same manipulation he did. 
“M’sorry— m’sorry, I wanna be good—”
“You’re so good, tu es si bon pour moi,” Charles croons, rocking you back and forth, holding you close as you cry into his chest. “I’m here. I’m here. You don’t have to do any of that. Let me take care of you.”
It takes nearly thirty minutes to get you to stop crying. You keep your face pressed into his shoulder, shaking as Charles soothes you, humming softly to you. He speaks in French, knowing that you enjoy the way his voice sounds when he speaks it. 
“Can you tell me where you are, Doudou?”
“In my bed,” 
“Wonderful job, so smart for me,” Charles praises, kissing your forehead softly. Your grip tightens on his shirt, and he can feel a small huff of air against his skin when you breathe out. “And what’s my name?”
“Charles. You’re Charles.” You murmur. “How did you get in here…?”
“Spare key.” He shifts so that you can look at him, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes under one of your eyes, the skin sticky from tears. “I was… I was watching the stream.”
“Oh.” You lean against his chest, letting him stroke up and down your back. You nuzzle into the collar of the hoodie. Charles presses his nose into your hairline, inhaling your scent, while keeping his lips against your forehead. “So you….saw…”
“He’s banned. It’s the same guy from the commission email.” There’s a hint of rage in his voice, which fades the moment your nose nudges under his chin, dislodging him from your hairline. 
“Thanks.” He can feel the curve of your lips turning into a smile as you nuzzle into him further. “My hero. Taking care of me, even when you’re upset.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” Charles’ voice catches in his throat at the admission, pulling away enough to look down at you. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face, and a sleepy look in your eyes. 
“It could be nice,” You murmur again, shyer than before. “You and me, couldn’t it?”
“I think it could be more than nice,” His lips are so close to yours, enough so that he can feel your breath against them. Charles has been balls-deep in you. Has fucked into you until you cream around his cock and sobbed out his name. But this is quite possibly the most intimate thing he’s ever done with you. “Really, really nice.”
The taste of your lips on his is divine as he holds onto your waist with one hand, and cups your face with the other. You giggle when he pulls away to catch his breath, and before he can even stop himself, he’s grinning and pressing you into the bed, blowing a raspberry against your cheek just to hear your shrill laughter and feel the butterflies in his stomach that appear every time you laugh around him. 
“Mon petit Doudou,” He can’t stop the grin on his face as he kisses all over your face, looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your hair is fanning around your head like a halo. Your smile is infectious. And he can see a few blooms from your tattoos under the neckline of your hoodie. His hoodie. “Mine, mine, mine.”
“Yours, yours, yours.” You respond, curling into him happily as the two of you lay in your bed.
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bbyseok · 1 month ago
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thinking about showering dazai with a ton of compliments, and he becomes soo flustered he doesn’t know how to react. <3
it’s a normal day in the office of the armed detective agency, and as per usual, the infamous dazai osamu is at his desk—doing anything but his actual paperwork.
his time consists of doodling scribbles on the neatly stacked papers or taking said papers to fold them into intricate little airplanes… to throw at you, of course.
but after growing bored of his past antics after a while, he resorts to rolling his pen on the desk with his slender fingers, his posture slumped over in a way that definitely doesn’t match proper office etiquette.
unlike your boyfriend, you’ve been dutifully attending to your work for the day, but your break is nearly about to start... and dazai has been quiet for some time, so you resort to staring at him.
maybe it’s the way the sunlight streams into the office space in dainty rays to highlight his chocolate irises. or perhaps it’s the adorable subtle pout curling on his lips in his current state of inactivity.
dazai looks pretty.
so what better way to spend your break time than to tell him that?
“‘samu.”
he perks up, bangs falling over his eyes messily, “hm?”
a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “you’re very pretty.”
his pen stops rolling. for a moment, he’s quiet, but then that familiar characteristic smirk comes forth as he dramatically announces, “oh? what’s this? sudden affection from my partner?”
you lean back in your chair, eyes never straying away from him as you reply, “only saying the truth.”
oh—oh, there it is. the dazai osamu… blushing. pink dusts over his face as he tries to brush off your words, a chuckle falling from his throat. “ahaha, you flatter me, darling.”
“someone needs to, i guess,” you go on, trying to hide the growing smirk on your lips, “y’know.. you cause a lotta distractions at work but honestly, you can consider your handsomeness a distraction by itself.”
however cheesy your words are, they’re enough for dazai to avert his eyes elsewhere, turning to hide his gradual blush with the collar of his trenchcoat. you might be feeding his ego, but it seems that he’s too flustered to retaliate.
“someone is a feeling a little bold today,” he huffs out, abandoning his pen to cross his arms in faux petulance, “praise this early in the day? my my, what are you up to..?”
you rise from your desk to saunter over, coming to stand in front of his with a cheeky grin. “i can’t compliment by lovely boyfriend?”
he meets your gaze, his embarrassed state still obvious. dazai stares up at you inquisitively, “hmm.. do you want something from me?” as if he’s trying to deduce a reasoning for your sudden flattery.
you laugh at that. “maybeeee.” you move to lean down and forward, becoming eye-level with the detective, and he blinks at you with his familiar, almost puppy-like gaze.
dazai’s wide eyes don’t even blink as he leans forward, awaiting for the savory feeling of your lips brushing against his in the kiss he thinks you’re asking for...
only for you to pull away with a snicker.
“i want you to finish a good chunk of your paperwork while i’m out on break,” you declare, leaning back and straightening your posture to turn on heel as you stroll away from his desk.
flustered splutters and whines come from osamu then, out of confusion and protest, frantic and scrambled movements as he tries to follow you.
“darling, w-wait! come back here!! where’s my kiss?!”
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lemedstudent2021 · 8 months ago
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they israeled the food
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ego-meliorem-esse · 1 year ago
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July 13th, 1917
Be it from a sense of paternal concern or simply patriotic duty, Arthur made sure to leave his soldiers in the charge of an older Corporal and made his way to the quite pathetic excuse of a medical section where his son was left to rot.
Arthur had heard about the attack. He had been informed the day prior.
He had seen war and famine and sickness, but never like this. Arthur wasn't young, in any sense, and what wonders and strong political oppinions young men had, had left him a long time ago like a ship leaving the harbour in a hury to claim new land. This though, had left shock echoing within his tired, millenia old frame. He wasn't used to this.
Arthur made his way through the trenches with soldiers from every corner of the globe instantly stopping whatever they were doing prior and saluting him as if etiquette and rank mattered in hell. As if it was more importaint to greet the Higher ups than to survive long enough to even write a letter back to family. Arthur did understand that though. Routine and rules were the only thing keeping these poor and wretched souls from being consumed by thoughts of an imminent death.
The path to the section where Matthew was held was quite straightforward and quite familiar. He had marched to and from it hundreds of times and had a sort of automatic rithm in his step. Arthur made his way to the small and damp room with a fast pace indicative of familiarity, only to stop in his tracks in the shabbily built doorframe at the sight that awaited him in the corner.
Matthew sat in the corner of the sad makeshift medical section of the trenches, his back firm against the cold, damp wall.
His once-piercing blue-grey eyes were now clouded over with milky white cataracts, rendering him completely blind. The newly used gas had stolen his sight. His skin, once tanned and healthy, now bore the sickly pallor of a much older man who had endured unimaginable suffering.
Matthew's uniform, discarded in favour of his worn down undershirt, was now a tattered and stained relic of his time in the trenches. The not-white-anymore shirt clung to his emaciated frame as if decency still mattered in hell. The physical toll of the war was clear on his body. Not that Matthew would have to worry about seeing that any time soon. His hands, which had once held a rifle with resolve, now trembled even while resting on his thighs.
Despite his physical and emotional anguish, Matthew remained seated upright, his back pressed against the unforgiving, stained wall. A testament to his resilience if there was any left, a silent protest against the horrors that had taken his sight and left him broken in body and spirit.
As he sat there, his spirit reduced to a hollow shell, Matthew's face bore a mixed expression of utter defeat and complete indifference. His lips were drawn into a thin, lifeless line, and his cheeks were gaunt from the weight of his suffering. His blank, unseeing eyes stared into the abyss, as if waiting for answers and also hoping they'd never arrive.
In that moment, Matthew was not a representation of Canada; he was a young man who had been scarred and broken by the senseless brutality of war. The trenches around him buzzed with activity, but he remained isolated in his silent world of darkness and despair. The young medics job was done. He had patched Matthew up and left him to his own misery. Matthew was grateful.
Arthur stood there silently under the doorframe for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. A strange and unfamiliar twinge of emotion plucked and pulled on his conscience. He hadn't felt guilt in quite some time. This feeling was reserved for drunken nights spent in solitude with the doors to the room he resided in firmly locked so that his sliver of self-deprecating emotion wasn't witnessed by any but himself, while he drunk himself to unconsciousness.
He preferred the emotional solitude to this.
Arthur had believed himself to be capable of most things. Especially conversation and confrontation. He was quite good at those as centuries of existence had proved. He believed himself quite skilful with words. Most of the time he knew what to say and when to say it without it resulting in unwanted and unforeseen consequences, while still making sure his opinion was heard.
Arthur had no words forming as he stood in that doorframe. If Arthur was a good man, his reasoning would be that he felt such strong empathy and sadness that words wouldn't be enough to express the sorrow he felt at that moment. If Arthur was a good man he'd run to his son, assure him that this wouldn't happen ever again and that he was safe. If Arthur was a good man he would fall on his knees in front of his oldest son and beg for forgiveness.
Arthur wasn't a good man.
He could admit to his shortcomings, but to act on them was not in his nature.
So he stood there for another 5 or 6 minutes watching his son shallowly breathe in and out, hearing the boys lungs struggle to keep up with his muscles contraction and need for air.
He must have made a noise, as Matthew's head tilted slightly to the left, almost looking at Arthur but definitely not seeing him. Arthur looked back at him.
The room was quiet, save for the desperate plea of Matthews lungs to be put out of their misery.
Sensing nothing after a few moments, Matthew turned his head back towards the blank wall ahead.
Arthur silently turned his frame around and slowly started walking the path he had taken to get here. As he took a few steps, he released the breath he didn't know he was holding.
How he longed for that whiskey bottle and that dark room where he could lock himself in and slowly drift out of consciousness instead of facing his own mistakes.
Arthur definitely was not a good man.
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emeritusemeritus · 1 month ago
Note
omg! saw your requests opening, glad to see you writing and I’ve read nearly all of your works! your writing style and fics inspired me to write more and motivate me so I thank thee for that!
i didn’t know if I would be able to request something like this, but you be willing to write something for both of the Weasley twins? you come home from a bad day, it was absolutely horrendous and overwhelming and you just want to forget about it. would you be able to write both of the Weasley twins willing to blow their mind away in bed to try to make them forget about their day? 🙌
Hi lovely Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m so glad I could inspire you to write more, I’d love to read your work! I hope it’s okay that I added a little Christmas twist. Hope you enjoy! P.s. my own personal headcanon is that Angelina would become a healer after hogwarts, so I made the reader a healer too🖤
Warnings: where do I start… smut, pinv sex, graphic smut, oral (both), fingering, masturbation, slight sub/dom elements, rough sex, overstimulation. Threesomes (no twincest) Readers feeling a bit of a grinch. Healer reader. Christmas stress. Can you tell I’ve worked retail with how much I hate Christmas crowds. Not spellchecker nor beta read.
Word count: 6.7k (some of it is plot I swear)
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Fairytale of Diagon Alley
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You were turning into the Grinch.
It appeared that when you had kissed your boyfriend's goodbye this morning upon leaving your shared flat above the shop, you had also kissed goodbye to your good mood and any semblance of patience you had left.
There were people everywhere, the whole street of Diagon Alley was packed with frantic christmas shoppers wanting those last minute bargains, forgetting all of their manners and regular etiquette as their heads filled with 'what to get little Timmy' and how Flourish and Botts hadn't even started their sales yet, Godric forbid.
You pushed through the brainless crowds, cringing at the attention you were receiving having walked out of the closed store, protests of unfairness echoing through the street as if you were some VIP patron with early access before the store had opened.   The line of people waiting for Wheezes to open was eye watering and you felt a complex mixture of happiness and sadness for your boyfriends knowing that they would have such a busy day once again, though business would be booming and they'd inevitably make a killing. They'd been exhausted these last few weeks, working extra hours to accommodate the expanse of people whilst importing more stock than ever to see them through peak trade. They'd started the sale two days ago, an offer of buy 3 get 1 free that had skyrocketed sales and had plunged through their stock even quicker than expended, leading to more light nights spent dealing with manufacturers and suppliers to rush through more orders. They did it all with a smile, so warm and welcoming to each customer that it filled you with awe seeing them, knowing that they were running on very little sleep.
You simply huddled down, pulling your coat tighter against your collar to ward off the biting cold and pushed through the crowds with facetious attempts of politeness as you muttered excuse me repeatedly , trying to make your way out of the crowded street. Christmas music was blaring out from the cafe at the top of the street and you cringed as you walked past, the volume almost deafening.
It didn't cheer you, not today. You were just overwhelmed by the amount of people, overstimulated by the ridiculous noise of the music and the constant chatter around you as you were just trying to make your way to work for what you knew would almost certainly be another dreadful day.
You paused outside the entrance to the abandoned looking department store Purge and Dowse Ltd, heaving a heavy sigh to prepare you for the day, having successfully made it through the crowds... eventually. You loved your job usually, but something about Christmas time just seemed to make people more stupid, less careful and much more irate.
The welcome witch was unpleasant as ever as you stepped into the entrance of the building, seeing a bustling waiting room of people with various maladies and injuries that were certain to keep you on your toes today.
"St Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries," the receptionist Barbara welcomed the next person waiting to be booked in, her usual overly-cheery voice ringing out along the corridor, pausing her speech to wave at you warmly as you walked past. Her hair was transfigured into a Christmas tree shape though it was leaning at the top with tinsel wrapped around for good measure and a couple of illuminated lights in her hair that were flickering on and off in an uneven pattern, which you noticed she kept trying to fix with her wand though she was largely unsuccessful.
"Ready for another fun day?" Angelina asks sarcastically as you change into your uniform, casting the usual enchantments upon the regulated clothes to protect them from all manner of horrors. Knowing that you don't have to hide your real emotions from Angelina, you sigh and let out a long whinge, resting your head dramatically on her shoulder. She laughs whilst stroking your hair, the two of you sharing a moment together as you prepare for the day, enormously thankful that at least your best friend would be on the same shift as you today, both of you successful in following your calling to become a healer.
"Just think, 12 hours to go and you'll be back fighting your way back to the flat through the Christmas crowds!"
The whinge that fell from your lips was louder and longer than the first and held nothing back of how you truly felt.
Angelina didn't need to be part seer to foresee the future but she sure got it right in predicting with almost perfect accuracy the horror of Diagon Alley upon your return. If anything, she had downplayed the horror of your return as it seemed even busier than this morning, with people covering almost every square inch of the cobbled street. You briefly wondered if everyone stood on a singular cobble, if there'd be any room at all for more people.
Children were squealing with excitement, some crying at the top of their lungs about being denied early gifts. Three boys in the corner near Fortescue's had found a small patch of untouched snow and were crafting snowballs to throw at each other though their sense of aim was way off and had instead found it much more enjoyable to cast the snowballs into the crowd to hit unsuspecting shoppers who most appeared indifferent to the attacks, probably not even noticing.
It was sheer mayhem and all you could think of was getting home, taking a bath and soaking away the stresses of your very long day. It had been none stop from the second you arrived on the ward, with new challenges and issues that often rendered you speechless. You were beyond stressed and weary, the long days and the disregulation of routine completely throwing you off. You'd barely spent any time with your boyfriends these past weeks, even after they'd employed temporary staff over the busy period. The flat was increasing in mess and clutter everyday and you found yourself caring less everyday, completely void of motivation. Presents needed to be wrapped, some still left to be bought, Christmas cards to be written, food to be ordered and collected. You needed to confirm with Molly what time you'd be arriving on Christmas Eve, the plan on everyone staying at the Burrow in their old bedrooms ready for a big family Christmas seeming more and more welcoming with each passing day as you craved simpler times, away from the stresses of an adult Christmas. You lamented the days at Hogwarts when everything was easy, when it was just you, the twins and your friends around a perfectly elf-prepared Christmas dinner with gifts that were more gestures of love before money and being an adult ruined everything.
Your feet were hurting, you were exhausted, you were sick of fighting through crowds morning and night each time you left the flat. You needed to sort the Floo network but each and every time you resolved yourself to asking Fred to have a look, you'd see him walk in exhausted and the request would fall from your lips upon seeing the deepening purple bags under his eyes. You didn't know the first thing about floo networks or where to even start on fixing it or asking someone to look so you left it alone, the entire thought process dropping from your mind the second you were home every time without fail until you were faced with the unpleasant crowd once again.
The sights and sounds of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes flooded out into the dark street like a lighthouse at sea, the bacon of light that guided you home. As overwhelmingly pleased as you were to see it in all its glory, knowing you were so close to being home you were also a little downtrodden at the sight of so many people still out shopping. The closer you got, you could see George on the third floor near the explosives section, helping yet another customer with their purchases as he pointed out various whizzbangs on the wall between Fred's blaze box and George's compendium box of pyrotechtrix. You couldn't see Fred anywhere but you could spot Verity through the window looking frazzled at the till. You snook around the back and let yourself in with the appropriate charms, begrudgingly taking each painful step up the back staircase near the storeroom to make your way to the flat, the noise and the bustle from the shop falling silent as soon as the door was closed.
You sighed in relief as you toed off your shoes and hung up your bag and coat, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer number of layers that you were wearing as you frantically unwrapped your scarf and tugged off your hat with very little care of what your hair looked like underneath. You wanted to make a cup of tea but couldn't even muster the energy even with magic and so you walked straight to the bathroom and began running a bath, ignoring any messes you could see along the way.
You pulled off your clothes with determination, desperate to rid yourself of the day and soak in the bath full of bubbles. The bath was huge, one of the many benefits of being in love with two very tall men who had both insisted on a bathtub that could accommodate their whole bodies without question.
You lit a candle and placed it on the windowsill to illuminate the room, praying that the outline of your naked figure couldn't be seen by all of Diagon Alley.
Slipping into the hot bath felt like heaven. Your skin was pleasantly tingling from the warmth and you felt your eyes closing instinctively as you head tilted back to rest on the edge of the tub. You felt soothed, both in body and soul as you sank deeper into the water, finally finding peace in your day.
You don't know how long you are lay there floating somewhere between relaxed and dozing until you heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door.
"Well this is a welcomed sight," you hear George say as he steps into the bathroom after you'd told him to enter. He looks tired but happy, his eyes roaming over you in the bath, no doubt trying to see exactly how much of your body was covered by the bubbles. You smile, holding your hand out for him to take as you look up to him with heavy eyes.
"You should have joined me," you smile, knowing that it wouldn't have even been an option, but it was nice to think of.
"I'd have burned down the shop to have jumped in there with you," he says with a deep chuckle, perching on the side of the tub with you, his hand still holding yours.
"You're going to get wet," you say as a soft warning, eyes roaming over his work suit.
"Don't care," he replies quickly, his other hand scooping up some of the extra bubbles, eyes lighting up with mischief as he suddenly blows the bubbles back towards you. You squeal seeing the bubbles flying towards your face and flail slightly to get your face away from the incoming bubbles as George laughs.
"Hello ladies," George smirks, staring at your breasts as they become exposed by your flailing, the bubbles no longer concealing you. Your eyes widen and you scramble to cover your chest with your arms instinctively.
"Angel," he says, one brow slightly raising as he reaches to stroke your concealing arm, gently beginning to pull it away from you, though his touch is gentle enough for you to keep it there if you're uncomfortable. "I've been looking at these pretty tits for years, don't go shy on me now."
With the look in his eye and his smooth voice, you're helpless to resist and pull your arm away from your body with a slight bite of your lip. Seeing his eyes feast upon your exposed chest is instantly arousing, your naked form so vulnerable to his fully clothed self. The mood in the small room has shifted almost instantly, the calm and peaceful atmosphere now filled with a need, the tension between you both so overwhelming. His eyes are half lidded but it's no longer from tiredness as he looks up to your eyes again, pausing as if he's considering his next move before he leans forward, capturing your lips in a dangerously loaded kiss. You want to reach out for him, to run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer to you by his tie but you're wet through and you'd inevitably soak his favourite suit.
"George! Where are you, you're needed out here!" You hear Fred calling up the stairs and pull apart, a quiet sigh of disappointment falling from your lips as your shoulders sink like a deflated balloons. George growls as he pulls away, his head resting on yours with his eyes still closed, evidently we wound up and frustrated as you by the sudden interruption.
"Hold that thought baby okay? 30 minutes and we're all yours, I want you right here when I'm done."
With one last smirk and a delicate kiss placed upon your forehead, George steps out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him.
You throw your head back onto the side of the tub in frustration, arousal swirling through your body with no outlet now to relieve that need. The thought of having to wait for at least another half an hour was killing you but there was nothing you could do about it.
You tried to stay in the bath just as George had requested but you found yourself growing cold even after enchanting the water back up to the warmth of before once again but you were no longer relaxed, unable to find that sense of peace. You were too wound up, too aware of your naked body, the hardening of your nipples and the ache between your thighs that seemed to be calling out to you for relief.
You heaved yourself out of the bath with a frustrated groan, not even sure what you were annoyed at. Before George had walked in you'd been perfectly content to just lie there and put your day behind you. If Fred hadn't had called out for him, if the shop wasn't open so bloody late, if the customers would just go home. You were spiralling but didn't care, for once you just wanted the night to go how you wanted it to go, for your needs to be met and to come first for a change. Groping for the towel, you quickly dried yourself off and walked into the bedroom, cursing Merlin under your breath at the state of the room. Wardrobe doors left open with various ties scattered around as if someone had been looking for a specific one this morning and simply discarded all the rest. Your pyjamas from last night were thrown in a pile in the corner of the room, the bed wasn't made and various pieces of clutter decorated the vanity that had become a dumping ground for all three of you. You cursed again when you stepped on the corner of a pin badge, one of the many iconic 'W' badges that your husbands wore in the shop discarded on the floor. You reached for your wand and cast numerous cleaning charms, not even caring on how they would clash, just praying that they would sort out the room.
You threw on your comfiest, baggiest clothes and threw the towel towards the rough direction of the bathroom, watching briefly as it got caught up in the crossfire of the charms you'd used.
Gone were the thoughts of a quiet night or any hope of some stress relief fucking that you'd so desperately needed. Apparently your lack of sexual relief had caused you to become increasingly frustrated and short, your lip fixed into a near permanent pout as you sulked about your day. You wouldn't entertain ideas of making dinner, despite your stomachs grumbling protest and opted instead to flip down onto the sofa, pull out your book and ignore the rest of the world- especially the 'Christmas to do list' that lay infront of you almost mockingly on the coffee table.
"You were meant to be in the bath sweet girl," George says as both he and Fred entered the flat after close. Your eyes flicker up to the clock on the wall and saw that it had not been thirty minutes as promised but instead it had taken nearly double that for George to get back to you. You don't reply, only offering a noncommittal shrug as you fix your eyes back to your book, rereading the same sentence for the third time.
"Hey princess, good day?" Fred asks as he throws himself down onto the sofa beside you, arm immediately reaching across the back to where his fingers reach out to run your shoulder.
"Busy."
"Tell me about it," Fred answers, reaching up with his spare hand to undo his top button and loosen his tie, missing the true meaning of your words completely. "So what's for tea?"
You slam your book down onto the coffee table and march off towards the bedroom without a single word, barely holding in your groan of annoyance at his lack of sensitivity. It wasn't just down to you to think about meals all the time, to do the bloody shopping and start preparing a meal when you'd already worked twelve hours, having to fight through the stupid crowds morning noon and night just to go about your day. You knew they'd had a long day too but it didn't trump yours, didn't mean that they automatically got a pass from adulting because they'd been working hard because you had too.
"Angel?"
You rolled your eyes, knowing what was coming. You didn't answer, hoping that George would just go away. You didn't want sensitivity or broken promises right now, you didn't really know what you wanted but you knew that if George came in here to try and reason with you, you'd go mad.
The second he slips through the door, you know that you'd gotten it very wrong. He wasn't coming to reconcile or to ask you what was wrong to fix the issue, instead his eyes told a completely other story.
"Where did my sweet girl go?" He says, eyes fixed hard as he looks at you, suddenly seeming to be even taller than you pictured. "I kept you waiting too long."
You don't reply, knowing that you'd only say something that you'd later regret.
"I agree it was mean of me, getting you all worked up and leaving you like that, so beautiful and needy."
He knew exactly what he was doing, and unfortunately for your pride, it was working.
He moves closer to you now, his firm towering over you as you sit on the edge of the bed where you'd slumped down, neck craned to stare up at him with a look that is softening more with every passing second.
"But there question is," he says as he squats down in front of you, your eyes lining up once again as you threaten to cower under his blazing eyes and dangerous smirk. "How needy are you?"
You can't help it, your chest heaves at the very same time you have to swallow down your nervous energy, altering George to how well his words were affecting you.
"That bad huh?" You don't know if you want to slap or kiss that smirk off his smug face but all you know is that the fire from earlier had been reignited in the most sinful way possible.
"You think Freddie could help with that too?"
At the very mention of your other boyfriend, you feel your eyes widen slightly with the sudden influx of sinful possibilities crossing your mind, your need and arousal doubling as you fight the need to squirm under his forceful gaze. You nod gently, hardly daring to look away from his mesmerising eyes, your breathing rapidly increasing though it's shallow breaths only.
"You need us to fuck away your day sweetheart?" A second voice says from the side, alerting you to the presence of your other love, his eyes just as fiery as his words. You nod again, biting your lip under the scrutiny of them both.
"Words princess," Fred warns, eyes dark as he prowls over to you.
"Please," you say as if on command, submitting to them so willingly that it's almost alarming.
Their smirks are completely identical as they briefly share a look before turning back to you, stalking closer and capturing you in their arms. George attacks your lips again, his tongue snaking around your lips before mingling with yours in a sinful battle of dominance that he inevitably wins. Fred's lips attack your neck as he joins you on the bed, hands snaking around your waist and up to your breasts where he cups and squeezes with just enough pressure that you gasp onto George's lips. Your hips begin to cant on their own accord, too aroused for you to remain stationary as their hands begin to wander. George's hands replace Fred's on your breasts, his favourite place to play on the wonderland of your body whilst Fred's begin to stroke across your legs, caressing your thighs through your baggy clothes that you deeply regretted wearing.
George pulls away from your lips and tits for only a second as he rips your oversized shirt over your head, leaving your tits exposed to him once again. His eyes glaze over as he looks at your bountiful flesh, his eyes tracing the curves of your body and fixating upon your rosy nipples, so hard and aching for his mouth. You cry out when you feel Fred's big hands snaking around your waist and reaching to cup your breasts, squeezing them together and raising them up for George to take into his mouth, his full lips wrapping around your bud as his tongue pokes out to circle it seductively.
"I want you naked beautiful girl," Fred whispers in your ear, his right hand beginning to toy with the waistband of your sweatpants, long fingers edging closer to your heated core with every stroke.
"Please."
George pulls away from your breasts once again and gives you a devilish smirk as his fingers reach into the top of your waist band whilst Fred pulls you back to recline on him as he slips behind you on the bed. They share a brief look of utter mischief before George rips your sweatpants away from your body leaving you completely exposed to their eyes.
Your legs squeeze together as you look between the three of you, seeing them both still fully dressed in their suits with you wearing nothing but a smile between them, like the prey and the predators together.
Fred's lips trace the lines of your ear down to your neck and your chest rises, back arching in pleasure which seems to welcome George back to caressing your tits, his mouth latching back onto the hardened buds. He breaks away from sucking on your nipples to press a line of kisses up the column of your throat until he captured your lips in a blazing kiss once again, his hands caressing your breasts now instead of his mouth.
"Don't know about you mate, I reckon she's soaking wet for us," Fred says to George almost mockingly, as if you're not lay between them.
"Oh I know she is mate," George says as he pulls away, casting a cursory glance over at you before replying to his twin, "I can see that little pussy glistening from here."
"Ah ah ah," Fred warns with a firm grip of your thigh as your legs squeeze together to offer any relief you can find as their words catapult you towards dangerous levels of arousal.
"That was naughty," George chastises, one single finger on his right hand now trailing down the length of your body towards your core, teasing you.
"Will you be our good girl tonight?" Fred asks in your ear, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through you.
"I'll be your good girl," you say breathlessly, needing more than what you were getting.
"Then prove it," George says, standing up in front of you and undoing his belt. You watch with rapt attention as he undoes the belt, looping it out of his trousers and throwing it off to the side, nimble fingers undoing the buttons on his tweed trousers and dragging down the zip.
Your mouth waters when you watch him reach into his underwear and pull out his hard cock, already so swollen and throbbing. You force yourself to look away from the delicious sight, up into his eyes to look for his consent, seeing his eyes dark and predatory.
He holds out his cock towards you, gripping it hard in his big hands by the base, offering it for you to take. You waste no time, slipping out of Fred's grasp to crawl forwards on the bed so that your face as near perfectly aligned with your reward. You kick a tentative stripe up from the bottom of his cock towards the tip, circling the bulbous tip and moaning when you taste the faint salty liquid already leaking from his little hole. You lap it up greedily, allowing his cock to rest on your flat tongue as your lips wrap around the entire head before giving him a long and deliberate suck. The growl that you pull from his lips only makes you want to do better, to suck his harder and take him deeper. You allow your mouth to fill with saliva, knowing how sloppy he likes it, how he likes you messy. You push him deeper into your mouth, tongue working over the sensitive veins and ridges until you open your eyes, looking up at him with big, wide eyes that you know he can't resist. His mouth is open, face contorted into pure pleasure as he pants, nose scrunched up as he watches you pleasure him. He pulls away his hand now, knowing that you can take more of his length and his now free hand reaches out to stroke your hair in a way that shows his love for you even in his dominant state.
You take him deeper still, fighting off the urge to choke as you slip him into his throat, immediately rewarded by the most delicious moans and gasps from above, his hand slipping into your hair to gather it. He doesn't force you nor guide your movements but simply holds back your hair in a way that forces you to know that he holds the power here.
Fred, who had been stroking your body as you gag on his twins cock suddenly sits up, unbuckling his own belt as he moves towards you, no longer content just to sit there and watch.
You're acutely aware of your nakedness between the two men who are still fully dressed and suddenly have a desperate urge for them to be just as naked as you, to see their perfect bodies taking yours. Defying their usual expectations, you take it upon yourself to reach out for Fred's trousers, giving a slightly pull trying to silently communicate your needs whilst still pleasuring George.
"Think our girl wants something," Fred says, the smugness in his voice allowing you to almost hear the smirk upon his face.
George's fingers tap gently on your chin and you look up at him as you pull off of his cock with a resounding 'pop', his whole body fighting off a shiver of arousal.
"What does our princess want?" George says, the dominant edge to his voice almost mocking you.
You don't answer verbally, your hands reaching up to fumble with the buttons on his waist coat, wanting his naked. He's still wearing his full suit, jacket and all except for the long cock hanging free from his unbuckled trousers. Fred's equally as clothed only without his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
"You want us just as naked as you sweetheart?" Fred murmurs in your ear, hands wandering again.
"Please," you say sounding desperate, "want to see your bodies as you fuck me."
"Merlin," Fred curses behind you. George's fingers instantly hook under your chin to force you to look at him and he leans down to place a blazing kiss upon your lips with so much force that it knocks you backwards, your words clearly affecting him too.
You can hardly believe your luck when as you get to watch them undress, having a moment of confused sentimentality that this was your life, that only you were in this position. They were so similar and yet so different, even as they undressed. You watched transfixed as their braces were pulled off their bodies, shirts quickly unbuttoned by long fingers and trousers pulled down their long legs until they were bare.
"Is that better sweet girl?" George mocks, moving to stand in front of you. Fred slips back behind you on the bed, maneuvering you so that he can slide in. You can feel the prominent bulge of his erection as his rests on your hip and you fight to control the urge to squeeze your legs again, feeling largely untouched. "Now because you've been so good."
"Lean back on me darling," Fred coos in your ear, handling you backwards until you're resting against his chest, head thrown back onto his shoulder.
"Let me make you feel good."
His hands slip down over your breasts, his fingers reigniting the hardness in your nipples as his gorgoeus, veiny hands cup and squeeze your supple flesh. His fingers trail down your chest and across your tummy making you squirm, hips raising on their own accord as his fingers trail down towards your dripping core.
You gasp when you feel his fingers dip lower, legs spreading wide as you allow him access. He strokes over your outer lips, barely ghosting your pussy as he teases, touching your thighs, your outerlips- simply anywhere except where you need him.
When his finger suddenly dips within your folds, collecting the juices that are freely flowing from you and beginning to draw a line right up to your throbbing clit. You cry out as he makes contact with your clip, back arching at the pleasure as he begins to circle it slowly, knowing just how you like it.
Your eyes open and you gasp seeing George sitting directly infront of you, his hand wrapped around his cock as he slowly strokes himself, eyes fixed upon your spread pussy as Fred works his magic.
You're close to the edge already, aching for it, the teasing already too drawn out. Fred senses it right away as your breath catches in your throat, hips canting as you fight back the urge and stops his ministrations. You whine at the sudden loss of contact but stop when you feel his hands on your hip.
"You need my cock darling? I'm aching for you."
"Please Freddie," you gasp, rubbing your ass against his throbbing cock, desperate to have him inside of you.
"Up baby," he instructs, tapping your hip as he kisses your cheek. You lift your hips and Fred scoots down a little, lying flat but propped up on the pillow. He reaches down and holds up his cock for you. You stay facing away from him, lying on top whilst holding your weight on your hands as you align yourself with his gorgeous length.
You can hardly contain the moans as his tip begins to penetrate you, the tip slipping in easily with the wetness between your legs. You're breathless as you push his cock further into you, slipping down until you were taking almost every inch of his cock. He's moaning and breathing heavily underneath you as he keeps a firm hold of your hips to guide you, picking you up slightly only to bring you down a second time, his entire length inside of you. You cry out in perfect synchronisation with Fred as you begin riding his cock hard, bouncing up and down in his lap.
You feel sexy, empowered and yet submissive being so spread out and naked, completely open for George's view as he sits with his cock in his hand almost drooling as he watches you get fucked.
Fred's grip is almost bruising but it only serves as a reminder of his control over you, even if you are the one on top as he stops your hips bouncing, choosing instead to pound you from below as he keeps you still, the feel of his cock overwhelming. He bares the brunt of your weight as he forced you to lean on his chest instead of your hands. His thrusts are forceful and powerful with perfect aim as your head falls back from the overwhelming pleasure, your moans and cries unable to be contained.
You whine as you feel George join you on the bed, his hands grabbing hold of your thighs as he attempts to hold some of your weight whilst keeping you spread open for them. His lips find your clit from above, tongue running over that swollen little nub, latching on giving sharp, quick sucks. You're completely done for, the pleasure taking over your entire body.
Your walls are squeezing Fred who's moaning out your name and growling from below, long fingers still brushing your hips as his thrusts get harder as he approaches his end. George's lips suckle your clit with perfect precision, doubling your pleasure and propelling you towards your orgasm in no time at all.
"I'm, I'm," you try to warn but it's pointless, your climax ripping through your body in a fit of blinding light as you scream out Fred's name, hardly able to hold your head up any longer.
You're lost in pleasure, barely registering fred's orgasm that follows yours within seconds until you feel his cum filling you to the brim, cock lodged in you so deep that you feel he's in your tummy.
He waits for you to get your breath back before slowly pulling out of you, shifting you gently so that you're almost lay beside him, his lips pressing a cool-down kiss onto your own as you feel a stream of cum slowly leaking out.
You're breathless and panting but you still need more, turning to George with expectant eyes, seeing that he's waiting impatiently for you to come back to him.
"On your knees," he commands. You sit up onto your knees and turn away from him now, looking back towards Fred who offers you a loving smile as he leans against the headboard, giving you room.
You gasp when George's hands wrap around your hips, his fingers digging into the marks that Fred had left as he pulls your ass right up to the edge of the bed and presses a hand to the skin between your shoulder blades to push your body down. Your upper half falls forward, ass high up in the air as he grips you with force, his cock already pressed up against your core.
"George," you breathe out in desperation, too worked up for teasing.
The cry that falls from your lips sounds almost non-human as he suddenly pushes forward, his entire length slipping inside your already overworked pussy. The curve of his cock drags purposely against your inner walls and your head drops down onto your arms with the force. He shows no mercy as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing around the room, his balls hitting your clit with every deep thrust. It's agonising pleasure and you scramble with your fingers to reach out for the duvet beneath you to ground yourself. You look up into Fred's eyes when you feel his hand entwine with yours, offering you that support you so desperately needed.
It's a delicious contrast of personality as the usual menace tenderly holds your hand tenderly in support whilst the normally more sensitive twin takes you roughly from behind. He's growling and groaning as your walls stretch and constrict with the pleasure, your body becoming quickly overstimulated as you feel tears well up in your eyes at the sheer sensory overload.
"George!" You cry out, earning a swift spank to your right bum cheek that seems to echo around the room multiple times. The force of the smack, the jarring of your nervous system and the deep growl that emits from George as your pussy clenched on him is enough to renew your arousal to heightened levels. You can feel that telltale feeling in your lower stomach rising, as if it's slowly taking over your entire body, your skin erupting in goosebumps and your hips suddenly trying to squirm against George's hold. It rises within you quickly until you're squeezing Fred's hand, clawing at the sheets and fucking yourself back onto George's cock, your orgasm erupting. You're silent this time, the slow build of the white hot heat rendering you silent.
"Fucking Merlin!" George cries out, pulling out of you and quickly pulling you down into the bed, turning you over with one slight shove to your shoulder. His fist works quickly on his cock as he looks upon your squirming body, breasts heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, legs wide open and a slight line of drool coming from your mouth. You scramble forwards, your mouth wide open for him as you look up into his eyes with a look that you know will finish him off. You watch closely as his face crumbles, eyes squeezing tightly shut as his fist moves quickly along the long column of his cock, catching against the bulbous tip that looks bright pink.
He cries out as he cums, the viscous liquid spraying your face and shooting into your waiting mouth. You taste him on your tongue, leaning forward to engulf his throbbing tip in your mouth to lick up every drop of the salty liquid that addicts you as you watch him shudder.
You fall back onto the bed in an exhausted heap, flanked by two satisfied men mere moment later who instinctively reach out to touch you, their lips pressing against your slightly sweaty hair and any skin they can reach. Fred offers you his handkerchief to wipe off your face which you gratefully accept, wiping off the quickly drying cum from your cheek.
"You did so well sweetheart," Fred murmurs into your ear, his voice soft and quiet as if speaking louder would shatter the bubble you found yourselves in.
"So good for us," George echoes, his hand reaching out to yours to entwine your fingers as you all fight to regain your usual heart rates.
You're exhausted. Unable to reply back to them no matter how many ways you want to compliment them but can't bring yourself to muster the energy to talk and so you sink down into their comforting hold in complete contentment.
"Not that I mind how it's turned out since I asked the first time," Fred suddenly says, his softness disappearing from his voice as he sounds just as mischievous as usual now. "But what's for tea?"
You smack him on the chest playfully, not wanting to answer his question.
"We could go out," George suggests. You instantly groan thinking of the crowds of people that were inevitably still shopping somewhere, all the craziness of London in general and the number of layers you'd have to put back on. You needed a bath again, cum leaking from you and onto the sheets below, your skin covered in a thin sheet of sweat and most of all you just didn't want to leave the flat again.
"We can order in," George offers, hearing your groan. "Order in and work on getting that Christmas joblist sorted, plenty we can get done before bed."
You don't answer, you simply reach down and pull the covers above your head to hide yourself, wishing it was Harry's invisibility cloak, thinking to yourself  that you'd never heard a worse idea in your life.
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wonniesdoll · 11 months ago
Text
locked up - yjw
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MDNI 18+ ONLY! this is SMUT.
- this is my first time ever writing smut, so feedback is totally appreciated but pls be kind and lmk what you think :)
- english is not my first language! do lmk if you see any spelling mistakes hihi.
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warnings: female reader, throat fucking(f!receiving), chastity belt(f!receiving), anal play(f!receiving) reader can be picked up and carried, hair can be grabbed, "you" pov, vaginal pleasure denial? is there a word for this idk!! degrading word! (slut) used on reader, jungwon is readers bf and they are kinky! reader is desperate but super into what's going on
umm.. this is my first smut so lmk what else i should add here since idrk how tumblr etiquette works but lmk if i did anything wrong pls!
also how do you make text a different color without having it be underlined pls help me a girl is struggling! also sorry the layout is ugly i was struggling with all the editing omg but happy reading! if anyone has tips or anything for me or wants to be friends even plsplsplps slide into my dms I'm so nice!!!
it starts here!
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an irritated whine rips out of your throat as your boyfriend, jungwon, puts the stupid, stupid chastity belt on you. the one he's been threatening to put on you as a punishment since.. well, for a long time. but today is when you managed to make him snap.
finally.
the action of him going through with putting you in the chastity belt proves to frustrate you even more, the cage encasing your throbbing pussy into an evil metal cage.
specifically designed to deny you pleasure.
"shut up, brat." he angrily mutters, his hands working harshly to secure the belt as you squirm on the bed.
"I'll be good from now on, i swear!!" another whine of protest slips out, and you immediately draw back seeing the way Jungwon's eyes narrow at you when he hears your voice once more.
"I told you earlier, baby. sluts like you don't deserve pleasure. pleasure is for good girls." he says, fastening the belt for the last time and securing the it with a small padlock before pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork, key in hand.
you're prettily sprawled out and squirming underneath him, naked, just how he likes it. your soft skin is glowing underneath the faint streams of evening sunlight filtering through the curtains and onto your desperate, pathetically adorable body.
"I'm sorry for touching myself without your permission, but isn't this a bit too harsh? a chastity belt, really?" you complain diligently, still wanting to stay on his good side for the sake of your throbbing pussy.
Jungwon simply grins in response, his dimples making an appearance and melting your heart despite your uncontrollable horniness as the chastity belt restricts you.
"i told you, no cumming for a week. how am i supposed to know you won't try to get that desperate pussy off while I'm away, hm?"
his catlike eyes glance down at the chastity belt, a metal one he had ordered to be perfectly fit for your pretty body. he smirks again before stuffing the key into his pocket and shuffling a bit further away to admire you even more.
"i won't! please just take it off, Wonnie.." you whimper, begging softly, wanting nothing more than to jump on top of him and ride his thick, hard dick until you both pass out.
"if you had been a good girl, this wouldn't have happened, you brat." he grins as he comes closer to your figure on the bed, languidly sliding his hand down the chastity belt, right where he knows your slit is dripping and quivering.
so wet. so ready for him. so naughty.
you watch him with dilated pupils. dirty, vile thoughts running through your pretty little head as he continues his teasing ministrations.
your breath hitches when his hand suddenly slips lower, tracing along the metal ring that presents your other hole to him. the forbidden one.
that's right. not only does Jungwon's punishment include denying you of your own pleasure for a week, it also includes him taking you anally, since he sure as hell isn't going to suffer through a week of no sex because of your bratty behavior.
"do you remember the rules i explained earlier, baby?" your boyfriend asks, his pretty fingers circling around your puckered hole as he watches your facial expressions carefully.
he loves you after all, and he wants to make sure you're not uncomfortable throughout this entire encounter.
"yes i do. you're not touching my pussy for a week, nor am i allowed to. you'll satisfy yourself by using my ass or my mouth." you obediently repeat the rules back to him, eyes lighting up at the smile on his face at the sight of you being so good.
"that's a good girl." he praises you, his finger dragging some of the slick on your inner thigh before lazily falling back to your asshole, which he begins teasing with that very same finger.
you jolt in surprise, trying your best to relax as you sink into the pillows, a faint whimper escaping you at the feeling of his fingertip stretching your ass out slightly as it begins tipping into you. the heels of your feet dig into the mattress slightly as you focus on the delicious feeling.
your eyes land on the bulge that can easily be seen in his sweatpants. he's been achingly hard ever since he got home, expecting to see his sweet, cute girlfriend readily waiting at the door to be able to greet him with a kiss and a hug like usually.
yet, all he was met with when he tiredly walked in after a long day of recording and practice, was a dark house along with faint moans coming from your shared bedroom.
upon further inspection, Jungwon had found you, wearing only one of his shirts. the fabric of the white cotton was draping onto your thighs as you rode a pillow. his pillow. there was a blissful look on your face as you chased your high with closed eyes and an open mouth, sweet little moans slipping from your lips as you called out for your boyfriend while having absolutely no idea that he was watching you from the doorway.
that's how you ended up in this predicament in the first place, now having little to no say in what would be done to you during the oncoming week. and you couldn't be more turned on at the thought.
the thought of Jungwon using you for his pleasure while simultaneously denying all of your needs made your pussy unbelievably wet, little droplets of your essence already leaking through the slit of the chastity belt, staining the silver metal in your juices.
you opened your legs a bit wider for him to get a good look at the sight of his finger sliding in and out of your exposed asshole, the metal ring almost serving as a guide for where exactly to train your eyes to have the best view.
"f-fuck.." you bite back a moan. anal had always been something you'd been into, and it's only recently that you brought it up with Jungwon, who was more than happy to help you indulge in your desires.
"language." you jolt when your boyfriend slaps your inner thigh sternly, yet softly. his tone isn't angry, it's a warning.
"sorry, wonnie.." you smile sheepishly as he continues to gently stretch your asshole with his fingers.
one finger, then two, then three. at this point you're a blubbering mess. uncontrollably moaning as your chest rises and falls rapidly while he fingers your asshole with a smirk on his face. "wonnie please.." you beg softly, your sweet eyes pleading with him.
"not a chance, baby." the man simply grins at you before reaching over and grabbing an adorable buttplug off the bedside table. it's metal, it has a base with a pink, heart shaped jewel that perfectly matches some of the other cute pink pieces of lingerie Jungwon buys you all the time.
he coats it in a layer of your slick that's leaked out of the slit in the chastity belt before carefully slipping it into your tight asshole, presumably to keep you nice and stretched for when he wants to use you there, which you absolutely couldn't wait for.
"please, not even anal? you really won't even fuck my ass? i need it wonnie.. please." you beg softly, wanting nothing more than to have your boyfriend's pretty cock sliding in and out of you while you moan into his mouth.
"no. you don't deserve to be touched by me right now, you've been bad." Jungwon huffs in response, making sure the buttplug is fit snugly inside of your tight little ass. his hand comes down to leave a smack on the skin of your plush ass, grabbing a handful and spreading your cheeks to get a good look at the buttplug inside you and the metal ring which would allow him to use your ass at all times if he so wished to.
his eyes then moved upwards, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he trains his gaze onto the metal slab encasing your pussy. your tight, sweet wetness. he lets out a small, audible groan at the sight of the amount of essence dripping out of the slit in the middle of the chastity belt, imagining how good your tight pussy would feel right now, skilfully gripping his aching cock as you whimpered his name.
he shakes away the thoughts, wanting to stay strong and true to the discipline he has planned for you, finally allowing his eyes to peer even higher and to look at your desperate, adorable face.
your pupils are completely dilated, your beautiful tits moving up and down with the deep breaths you take as you look deep into his eyes with the most desperate expression he's ever seen on you.
"please?" you plead innocently.
fuck.
fuck.
Jungwon could smack himself in the face in frustration, his cock twitching at the sound of your sweet voice, sounding so pathetic. so pretty. so perfect. He wanted nothing more than to rip that chastity belt off you and to bury himself deep inside your wonderful pussy for all eternity.
but he didn't. he wouldn't.
"No. Now stop whining and get on your knees." his hands move to the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down along with his boxers as you rush to kneel in front of him.
Jungwon smirks down at you as he pulls his hard cock out of his sweats, eyes trained on your desperate face.
your own eyes are locked on Jungwon's hard cock. the shape of his mushroom tip, each vein, each barely noticable ridge completely engraved in your mind.
you were a slut for cock. you were an absolute whore for your boyfriend's cock, though.
The man in question stands tall in front of you, grabbing the base of his cock and hissing softly as he strokes himself a few times, his free hand reaching towards your hair to grip it, gently pulling your face closer to the twitching muscle as you breathe out in contentment.
"suck." he commands, slapping his achingly hard cock onto your cheek twice.
you don't have to be told again, opening your mouth and swirling your tongue around his pink tip, savoring the taste of the precum that's been dribbling out since he got home.
a small moan escapes you just as Jungwon groans in satisfaction, leaning back against the wall as he watches you slowly work your way down his cock.
you look up into his eyes, making eye contact as you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head.
the sight above you belongs in a magazine, or on the wall of a museum, maybe it even deserves to be displayed on one of gigantic building's screens in time square.
jungwon is looking down at you, the same intensity in his eyes that's undoubtedly being mirrored back to him as you suck him off how he likes it. his lips are parted as he groans, waiting for the perfect moment..
it's when you finally ease his cock into your willing, tight throat that jungwon knows it's okay for him to retake control. so he does.
you moan softly around his cock as both hands trail down, gripping your hair tightly, yet gently.
"tap my thigh twice if you want me to stop, yeah?" he whispers, stroking your hair affectionately before his expression hardens and he stands up a bit straighter.
you can barely nod due to his tight grip, but you both understand it. you're ready.
with that, he takes control. his hands are swiftly tangled into your hair as he thrusts forward slowly, burying his length deep into your throat and letting out what's possibly the sluttiest moan you've ever heard from a man.
you're no different, trying to trail your hand down to rub your clit before the realization sets in. you're locked. caged up. your poor clit and hole completely off limits.
you're not sure if you tear up because of the thought that you can't get off, or because of the fact that the tip of Jungwon's cock keeps slamming against the back of your throat, but you quickly focus on relaxing your throat once more, trying not to choke too much as your boyfriend fucks your face, smirking when he sees you remember the chastity belt.
"aw, my poor little slut." he grins devilishly, driving his throbbing cock in and out of your throat. "can't even get off without me, hm?" he smirks at the way you look right now.
there's an almost dollike expression on your face. to him at least. your pupils are completely dilated as you try to keep eye contact with him, there's a bunch of drool running down the corner of your mouth, and dripping down your face and onto your pretty tits, the mixture of your saliva, tears, and his precum making him twitch in your throat.
Mmm," he hums, his hips undulating in a rhythm that matches his moans. His left hand lets go of your hair, now trailing down, he gropes your breast, squeezing and pinching one of your sensitive, hardened nipples. his thrusts don't slow down at all as he lazily plays with your tits while fucking your throat.
"fuck. I'm close." jungwon warns, his hips not stilling at all as he pistons in and out of your willing mouth. you're all too turned on right now, and he can tell by the way your arousal is leaking from the slit in the chastity belt and onto the floor while you choke on his cock.
the mere thought of you being so turned on yet so helpless makes his vision go white as his orgasm washes over him. his hips twitch uncontrollably as he shoots his load deep into your throat. his hands are now both gripping your head tightly as he keeps you right where he wants- no. where he needs you as he fills your throat with his pearly cum while moaning out.
he groans out, his hips jerking violently as he empties his cum down your throat. "Swallow." he commands, his grip tightening in your hair.
and you? you couldn't be happier. your own eyes roll back as you feel his cum invade your body. the way he's holding you down so tightly, his cock absolutely enveloped by your throat as he cums down it. you obediently swallow around him, the feeling of your throat convulsing around his length making him let out another deep groan.
your nose is buried into his neatly trimmed pubic hair as he holds you there for a few more seconds. he then pumps in and out of your mouth twice to ride out his high before finally pulling out, allowing you to catch your breath.
you pant, looking up at him with teary eyes and a messy face. "i swallowed.." you inform him in a timid tone, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze.
"I know," he smirks, his hand moving to stroke your cheek gently while you open your mouth to show him you really did swallow all the cum he spilled inside. "such a good girl."
you look up at him pleadingly, whimpering softly. "please, wonnie.. it's not enough!" you complain once more, tugging on the stupid chastity belt in frustration.
Jungwon giggles softly, taking his pants and boxers off completely before leaning down to pick you up and take you into his arms, carrying you to the bed with ease.
you relax as he lays you down on the bed on your back, taking another good luck at your pretty little plugged up asshole, the ring around it making it even prettier.
he's always liked jewelry on you, after all.
his hand trails down and he strokes his throbbing cock once more, cursing softly when he realizes he's still achingly hard for you.
you whimper once more, spreading your legs a bit more and pulling them up to your chest, showing off my caged pussy and the jewel on the hilt of the buttplug.
"wonnie please.. just want your cock in me. I'll be a good girl, i swear. please?" you beg pathetically, tears now dripping down your sweet face due to the sheer frustration you felt at your needy pussy being so neglected. he wouldn't even touch your ass?
Jungwon simply smirks, cooing at you before leaning over you to kiss you passionately, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue as his hands trail down your body, resting on your tits as your legs wrap around his waist.
the tip of his cock leaks precum all over your caged pussy, the metal now coated in small spurts and smears of the pearly essence.
he kisses you a bit more, tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands slide from groping your pretty tits to your hips before finding its way between your legs to gently tug the buttplug out.
you draw in a sharp breath at the intensity of his actions, a shiver running down your spine as he leans down to whisper in your ear as you feel the buttplug gently being pulled out of you.
"are you ready for me, baby..?"
2024 © wonniesdoll on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  
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*screams internally* if u read to here idk i just planted a fat kiss on ur forehead mwah ily and I'm making an introduction post soon SO STAY TUNEDDDD
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