#the 100 book headers

[barrowedits]

─ six of crows

› like/reblog if you save or use

[heavymetalchemist]

Chapter 52 is posted! Xiao Cheng just wants his Lao Wen to come home.

It's smut, you know it's smut.

New fic! It's Ruocheng!

Jiang Cheng/Wen Ruohan

Rated E (although nothing explicit for several chapters)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Manipulation, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dom/sub Undertones, businessy business, tags will update to be comprehensive as I write, Slow Burn, maybe? hopefully not that slow!, Jiāng Family Dynamics (Módào Zǔshī)

Summary: After an altercation between Wei Wuxian and Wen Chao at an event, Jiang Cheng acts quickly to protect his family. He has to do whatever it takes to prevent Wen Ruohan from destroying the Jiangs.

And if that means being Wen Ruohan's personal assistant? It's a sacrifice he's willing to make.

[buttercupblu]

SoftDom!Suguru

Geto Finds Your Fanfic X Reader|Birthday One-Shot

the deets: uh, oh...girl, your boyfriend found your smut 😶 w.c: 12.3k (look...it is what it is) tags: fem!reader, fanfic indulgence (reverse uno, reader is an ADDICT—SHOCKER), mention of smut which is so ironic, delulu reader has all her dreams come true with the dreamiest fucking boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, soft-dom power dynamic, clitoral and vaginal masturbation, spanking/impact, edging/orgasm denial, fingering, forced orgasm, mention of breath play, gagging and throat fucking, mention of wax play, rope/restraint play, overstimulation, use of vibrator, P in V, creampie, reader’s brain is scrambled as she’s fucked into oblivion and ‘space’ (if you know you know), and most importantly, 💗💗💗CONSENT AND AFTERCARE IS SEXYYY💗💗💗 angel’s note: i almost named this 50 Shades of Geto chat 🧍🏾‍♀️…|a SoftDom!Suguru inspo pic i came across while writing 🥴 earworm 🐛: Freak in You|PartyNextDoor [Hoe|Jhene Aiko in video header]

Is this really the life I'm living?

Stifled moans threatening to spill over your puffy lips say yes.

That's less noticeable than the sharp, cool air kissing your aching nipples, though. Cute, little buttons that make your boyfriend's dick jump when he thinks about pinching them.

But neither compare to the coarse feel of the rope wrapped around your dainty wrists—competing for your attention and burning into your skin the more you grapple with it. 

Remnants will be there for days. Intricate lines of art that mark your body and make your slutty little mind smile.

But only fear lives in your eyes looking into Suguru's—his face smug but stern. 

A slight grin graces his lips as he raises his hand. “Eyes on me.” 

And you hold your breath, knowing that it’ll be 100 times worse if you look away, and wait for the—

Holy fucking coW, this is not a drill this is nOT A DRILL.

You squealed watching the mail truck drive off from the post you'd been stalking for hours—barely containing yourself from tearing the package to shreds the moment it's in your hands after rushing back inside.

Weeks had gone by, WEEKS, waiting for the beauty so gracefully wrapped in a shimmery tulle. Delicately peeling it away, you practically creamed yourself the second you pulled it from its satin bag.

It was finally in your hands, your fingers tracing over the glossy cover and raised title, not believing you were finally witnessing it in all its glory. And God, that new book smell was like crack.

Isn't It Sweet?

You nodded, biting your lip, agreeing with one of your favorite authors of all time as you marveled at their latest limited-book release.

One of only 1000 copies.

You remember how shaky your hands were when you ordered it, having set 4 or 5 alarms to make sure you didn't miss out on the drop. But you probably should've won an award for the world's fastest order the way you secured the bag with the quickness. And after daydreaming about it for days, you wanted nothing more than to hug it into your chest like a newborn babe.

Anyone who knows you would agree and say you're an avid reader (as if your overflowing bookshelf isn't enough evidence.) Still, you would say you were maybe just slightly above average—only spending about 5 to 6 hours a day gluing your eyes to books and words. Fully immersing yourself in endless lives, worlds, and universes was nothing as long as the life was worth living. And you're no stranger to all kinds of genres.

The classics. Sci-Fy. Horror. Smut. Occasional non-fic and self-help because it pays to be well-rounded. Romance is often hit or miss, but it has its moments.

What?

Oh ya. That's right.

That said smut.

And oh baby, does it have its claws in you.

Especially when it comes to fanfic.

Are you the world's biggest nerd? Maybe not (that's a lie; you've cosplayed and been to a few conventions—you're too far in the trenches, beloved, and it's okay), but the second someone mentions anime, you almost break your neck to listen in. Waiting to see if your favs are mentioned.

With most of them, you come for the action, laughs, and often heartbreak. Your latest fav was a great example of all of the above and taking the anime world by storm. The storyline and PTSD you get from watching it are part of the reason why, but truth be told, it's mostly because of the real gems you get if you stay. Gracing the screen from the first episode to the last.

Drop-dead gorgeous fictional daddies.

Being ate up around the world for being too good to be true. And there are more than enough of them to build a harem all wrapped up in a cute, gory little bow.

And you're the baddest of the down bad.

But you're not alone.

Oh dear love, very, very far from it.

The simps are everywhere. 

And you're the queen of Delulu Land, full of edits, cosplays, AUs, and art galore of anything you could ask for. And who could forget the stories?

Just the sheer amount of raw, raunchy, unsolicited smuttiness you get out of those is enough to make anyone sweat like a sinner in church. And you keep coming back for more.

It amazes you, the quality of content you get from those fandoms written by everyday people that even rival popular published works. But God, you can't even begin to imagine the sheer amount of batshit-crazy and unhinged energy it must take to think up and create such toe-curling filth.

Be there you were. Holding your second hardcopy fanfic that managed to make it off of the internet. About to shamelessly indulge your tastes once again. 

It didn't help that the cover was positively delish. It had a dark and mysterious air that you instantly recognized and made you feel a little funny. The infamous style belonged to one of your fav fanfic artists, and you couldn't believe the collab of your dreams was real.

Your bath was about to be one for the books, and you wanted to wait until you were simmering in the tub to open it, but you just had to get a sneak peek of the author's note at least.

You laughed, expecting nothing less as you read the gaggorific but true words. They're so unserious.

But this bath was about to be.

Rosy scents filled the bathroom as you lit a few candles and drew your bath, sprinkling salts and tiny petals into the bubbles.

Anyone on the outside looking in would think you were preparing for a date, and in a way, they would be right, but this solo ritual was routine anytime you got your hands on a good, smutty story.

Sighing, you sank into the cloud of bubbles, your muscles instantly relaxing in the hot, steamy water as you exhaled your cares away and let your head fall back against the fluffy body pillow.

The water felt amazing, and you could spend forever soaking in paradise, but slowly, your face began to warm. Not just because of the sweltering bath curling waves of steam around your body but also because of the heady thoughts that floated through your brain when you remembered why you were there. And so you pulled the caddy into the tub, your heart fluttering as you set up your book and dove in.

Fruity notes coated your tongue as you sipped a new wine between scenes, warming not just your tummy but also your core. Desire steadily built as you flipped through the pages, eyes soaking up the words as the scenes played in your head like you actually had the privilege of being a voyeur of such vulgar moments.

Your hand absent-mindedly drew small circles on your neck the more you imagined and read about your fav fictional daddy. Hearing his voice, trailing your finger down your chest as you envisioned his sharp, sultry eyes. That face he makes when he's being a big, tough, serious guy and somehow your hand ended up between your thighs, fingers lightly tapping your gradually pulsing clit.

And fuck were you jealous.

Your fav warned you about being in her bondage and restraint era, but the OC was going through it—manhandled and dealt with in a way that made your pussy throb until you couldn't take it anymore and slipped your fingers in to feed it.

Mewling, your fingers flexed inside you, feeling so warm inside your walls that ached so much you could feel a heartbeat when you dove in and out—moaning and working to sync with the story's vulgar pleasures.

But no matter how romantic the atmosphere was or how turned on and desperate for release you were, your dainty fingers, as cute as they were, were simply no match for the level of smut between those pages, and soon you found yourself drunk and pouting. Failing to properly reach those deliciously sweet spots inside you and leaving you unsatisfied and craving the only thing you knew could actually give you what you needed.

Your boyfriend.

And you knew if the day ever came when he did even a smidge of the things you'd seen in that book, you'd absolutely fall apart in his hands while blubbering ‘thank you’.

If only you weren't too chickenshit to just open your mouth and ask your angel of a boyfriend for it.

Suguru is such an, oh God—(insert animalistic noises)—you could eat that man for DAYS.

But truth be told, you weren't the usually overly confident bad bitch that made boys fall to their knees with Suguru. In fact, when you first saw him around, you were actually very intimidated.

Right off the bat, everything about him was different, way different.

His casual but cunty style screamed curated but careless when he walked around looking like he was fresh out of a Japanese street-style magazine. Often dressed in dark, baggy clothing that added to his mellow, mysterious aura—only to quietly flex on niggas by adding minimalistic but expensive layers of jewelry and accessories.

But what really made you weak the first time you saw them are the crown jewels that tie his look together—his piercings. The one in his eyebrow made it look sharper when he raised it, and whenever he tucked a strand of hair, you'd notice his cuff earrings fitting snugly on his cartilage that perfectly complimented his gauges. And—fuck—you could go on and on for days about how you constantly had to resist the urge to smash your lips onto his just to feel his snakebites.

You were doomed.

There he was, this tasty but nonchalant, cool guy. Reserved. Exclusive. And picky. 

Never ever ever in a million years did you think you could bag a walking piece of art like that. 

Don’t get it twisted; you are THEE shit and always the prize, but this time, it was less about looks and more about personality. And compared to Suguru? You were like a baby Powderpuff, sweet and bubbly, while he was a panther: sly, magnetic, and quick to ghost anyone who tried to get too close. 

Hot and impossibly hard to get. 

No wonder everyone wanted him.

Even without the competition, you were sure he probably had a thing for someone more his vibe, like big titty goth bitches, and you wouldn't blame him. Because sugar and spice just do not mix.

But fate had a funny way of humoring you, and one day you were unexpectedly thrown into each other's lives in a way that couldn't have been anything but the stars aligning.

The Panther and the Powderpuff.

Who knew you two would be a recipe for...perfection? And to your surprise, it was Suguru who latched on first, finding you simply addicting.

You were this vibrant, unapologetic good girl, sugary sweet and full of life, while he was this introverted yet magnetic loner, secretly craving someone to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Everyone else had been mere distractions, superficial, and a waste of his time.

But when the universe suddenly dropped you right into his lap, everything he thought he knew about loving someone changed.

The chemistry was undeniable and Suguru was selfish, wasting no time taking you off the market after only a few dates because the thought of you with anyone else made his stomach twist. But honestly, he had you hooked from, "Hello, my name is...", and ever since, you still find yourself unbelieving your luck—and the way he treats you.

From the unconditional princess treatment to every small or large sentiment you could wish for, Suguru does it all without hesitation. Knowing you deserve nothing less and leaving no room for anyone else to even try to compete. Often making you blush like a little schoolgirl who doesn't know what to do with herself because of his cool candor but loud love. Leaving you gagged and absolutely feral for him.

But it was simple for Suguru. He never questioned his instinct or need to have you. He just knew what he wanted, what he needed. 

You. 

You stir something deep in him, and he’s simply a slave to that insatiable urge to care for you in ways only he can.

Your sweet, raven-hair simp��always waiting and ready for you to pepper his blissful face with kisses every time you love on each other. Leaving you with no doubts that he’s yours and you’re his.

And he constantly reminds you that he can and will match your freak as his hands never seem to be able to stay off of you just as much as you think about sinking your claws into him.  

You practically jumped at any opportunity to have your way and slut out that man in all his panty-dropping glory—when he lets you—but you firmly drew the line at vanilla.

In a perfect world, you could live freely as the truly unhinged and slutty succubus you were and let this man dictate your every waking moment, body, and soul however he pleased—just like many of the books you obsess over. 

But you couldn’t risk scaring off your dream man with your Freak-a-leek fantasies. 

You had to be quiet with it. 

There was no way Suguru would be into that stuff.

Besides, it’s not like you were missing much. 

Suguru and Satisfaction go hand-in-hand, and your oh-so-thoughtful boyfriend is damn-near dedicated to making sure you spend your nights repeatedly moaning his name. Whether it’s by slurping you up with his tongue just for a taste or slow-stroking your insides until you soak the sheets before fighting over who's sleeping in it. Naturally reading your body with ease and filling you to the brim with butterflies until you claw his back then milk him dry. 

But every now and then, you couldn’t help but wonder…what would happen if one day he just happened to tap into that subtle but smug big dick energy and took the reins?

Alas, you’d rather sneak away every blue moon and submerge in the depths of smut than confess. Settled and content with getting your fix when you could, but that night, you found yourself growing more frustrated the longer you tried.

No matter how hard you concretrated, no matter how detailed and lewd the images and sounds were in your head, you were hell-bent on shooting stars into your eyes with every trick you knew in the book yet failing to bring yourself rapture with such feeble fingers. 

Eventually, with a final but not yet defeated groan, you decided to stop toying with yourself and return to Earth. Slightly disappointed but relishing in the fact that you always had access to the ultimate trump card, no matter how your smutty escapades went. You might not get to play 9 and ½ Weeks with your boyfriend, but he always guaranteed to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you and give you everything you need anytime you get all dolled up for him.

Your hand glided down your silky thighs, feeling smooth like butter as you caressed them, and you nodded. Mhmm, you were gonna get tore up tonight.

After finishing your bath, you dressed your body in your favorite lotion and serum combo before slipping into the silky lingerie Suguru randomly bought you a few weeks ago. He had been doing that more lately, coming home with all kinds of catered gifts and this one was by far one of your favorites and fit so perfectly. Now, all that was left to do was wait for him to get home and peel it off.

He’d been out most of the afternoon hanging with the guys while you did a few chores and stalked your mailbox. Suguru said it was supposed to be chill, but with the sun setting soon and knowing that Satoru was invited and without a doubt responsible for why Suguru was still not home, nine times out of ten, they ended up playing basketball. 

Your boyfriend is already pretty active, but anytime Satoru comes around, he gets turned up times ten and things get real competitive, real fast. Almost always against Sugu’s will, but he’d rather entertain Toru to make him shut up and eat his words than back down. And like a good girlfriend who knows all of her boyfriend’s dumb little weaknesses, you were exactly right.  

You missed the sound of his umbrella as he came through the front door, smoothing back his hair from the rain you didn’t hear while in the bath.

“I’m home, Love,” he calls out, and his gentle yet sultry voice paired with your pet name always makes you blush.

His natural scent was the first thing to hit your nose when he entered the bedroom, mingling with the wine steadily warming your body. Expecting you to nearly tackle him with a hug as you usually do after hours of being apart, he braced himself, but when he found you poised on the bed, relaxed and waiting for him, his mouth dropped, his heart once again racing even though he was sure he burned through his adrenaline playing basketball. 

You looked downright delectable.

“Hi, baby,” you laughed, smiling at his expression as you crawled towards him. The silky fabric draped in soft folds over your body, shifting and riding up just enough to reveal tantalizing glimpses of skin as you moved—clinging to your curves like a second skin. Everywhere he wanted his hands to be. 

Imagining you in it when he picked it out was one thing, but seeing you in it, right in front of him, well fuck—you looked so perfect now, he’d probably die seeing it around your ankles later.  

He drew a breath, unable to believe his luck or imagine a better view than the one of looking up at him with doe eyes while on your hands and knees. Just for him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, the soft blend of rose and vanilla flooding his senses as you pulled your body close before realizing he was soaking wet.

“Ahh! Babe!” You jumped back. “You’re wet.” But his warm hands had already settled on your waist, firmly holding you in place. He smirked and stole a quick peck, and the familiar tease of his lips soon made you forget all about how cold and drenched he was as you melted into his touch, his lips making you more and more needy every time they met yours. 

He smiled against your lips, noticing you were more excitable than usual as you deepened the kiss, your heartbeat thudding against his chest as you pressed closer.

“You’re going to *peck* ruin your lingerie, Pretty,” he teased. But you clearly didn’t care, and he softly chuckled, having to reel it in for the both of you as he gently pulled away. “Let me hop in the shower first, ya?”

But when he looked into your puppy-dog eyes as you knelt before him, the thought of walking away felt nearly impossible. You wore that little frown and plea in your eyes that silently begged him not to leave, and any other time, he’d give right in. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, sending warm tingles to your tummy and making it just a bit easier for both of you. With your patience recharged, you perked up and switched gears, asking about his day as he settled in.

He casually shrugged, saying everything was cool. Yu called him, Toru, and Kento over to try out the latest 2K game, and though Toru was always down to hang, he spent the entire time groaning because, surprise, surprise, he was awfully bad at it—no matter which version he played. After losing one too many 1v1s to Suguru and the others, he let his butt-hurt ego get the best of him and suggested they ditch the “baby game” and play some real basketball.

Suguru knew it was just a cop-out for Toru sucking, but he also knew Toru wouldn’t stop whining until he got a chance to redeem himself. At least the day was nice enough for Suguru to humor him—until their Opp, Toji, showed up trying to start shit and ruin a good time as per usual. Lucky for him, the rain came in out of nowhere and cleared everyone out just before the gang could pop off, and blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff. 

Suguru sounds so lovely when he talks, but you were only half-listening, completely mesmerized as he pulled his sopping, wet shirt over his head and revealed his toned body and tats.

No one would ever guess that his chest and sides of his torso were inked unless he showed you. The intricate dragon tattoo weaved across his shoulders and down the full sleeve of his arms, but that was the only evidence that he’d taken a needle to his skin. It’s like a special little surprise reserved only for those he wants to see, and you never get tired of drooling over it—or him, watching him shyly smile as he noticed your gaze and gave you a playful wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

You sank into the bed with a pout but managed to distract yourself as he showered. Suguru loves a long, hot one, and he definitely took his sweet time that night. You figured he deserved it after such a hectic evening and told yourself that the wait to quell your fire was just a little bit longer. 

But your impatience would cost you, as you failed to notice that in your haste to get ready for Pound Town, you’d forgotten to do something very important. 

Suguru came out whistling, a cloud of steam pouring into the bedroom as he stepped through, a towel wrapped low on his hips. His long, slightly towel-dried hair clung to his face in cute, messy stands, and he shot you a soft, knowing smile as he crossed the room. You were so adorable, waiting on him like a pup, shamelessly following his every movement with your gaze.

He laughed, “You look comfy.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you pouted. “You were in there forever.”

Suguru grinned, reaching for the towel draped around his neck. “Yeah? I guess I got a bit distracted.” He moved toward the dresser, lazily pulling it open. “Did you have a good day?” 

Suppressing the urge to be frank, you nodded. If only he knew. “It was okay. Nothing special.”

“Oh, real?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re in such a good mood, though. Didn’t get into anything exciting?”

Just failed to get off to one of the smuttiest fics ever written. 

“Nope,” you quickly replied, chewing on your bottom lip. As thoughtful as it was for Suguru to be a loving boyfriend and ask you about your day, you wished he’d chat less and fuck your brains out more. Fuck the clothes, fuck the pleasantries. And it was painfully obvious by the way his sharp, purple eyes took in your antsy body.

Pulling out some clothes, his lips curved into a smile. “You seem a little…eager tonight. Did my girl miss me?” But he didn’t really need to ask. He knew that you were practically in heat and only added flames to the fire by casually throwing on his favorite PJs that hung loosely around his v-section and slipping on a black wife-beater that hugged his torso(I know, that's a CRAZY name for an article of clothing).

Your pussy clenched—Yes God, YESYES STOP THE TORTURE!—silently screaming for him to just stop teasing and give you what you wanted before you exploded, but all you could manage was a whimper and frantic nod, knowing you were just seconds away from showing him exactly how much you did.

Suguru’s smile deepened watching you struggle, amusement dancing in his eyes as he sauntered towards you. “How ‘bout we burn off some of that energy then, hmm?” His weight sank into the mattress as he crawled onto the bed, closing the space between you and softly pecking your lips with every word. “With. A. Game.”

But the way heat flared in your chest as you helplessly fell under his kiss, you didn’t know if you could handle whatever his mischievous little mind was thinking. Still, you felt your body betray you, naturally unable to resist him and growing curious—no, needing—to do just about anything he asked if it meant he would continue kissing butterflies into you. 

With heavy-lidded eyes, you asked what game, growing breathy as you imagined every raunchy couple’s game you could think of. But your anticipation quickly turned to confusion when you felt him pull something from behind his back.

“Let’s read something new tonight,” he grinned. And you damn near went into cardiac arrest. 

With your mind solely focused on getting your hands on your boyfriend, you had completely forgotten about your book, leaving it in the bathroom to be discovered by Suguru the moment he stepped inside. 

And, oh baby, was it insightful.

You gaped, too stunned to speak as he pulled you toward the end of the bed. He settled on the bench and patted his lap, inviting you to sit, but you were frozen in place, absolutely mortified and refusing to believe this was real life.

You were caught, your mind filling with millions of thoughts all wondering how the hell your own carelessness after months of being “careful” ended up outing you, and it took him firmly calling you again before you finally found the courage to move, your brows furrowing as reality hit you. 

Now your boyfriend definitely knew how much of a menace you were—one of those Godforsaken BOOKTOK GIRLIES, of all things—and should’ve been running for the hills.

But he only looked at you lovingly, gently guiding you into his lap and making sure you were comfortable before his arms settled around your waist. He cleared his throat and held the book in front of you. “I’ll start,” and he began where you left off—on one of the smuttiest scenes in the story. 

“Taichi had seen what your mouth could do.” Oh no. “Never failing to command everyone’s attention before you cleared a room with just your words. Now, as his thumb softly traced over those same desirable lips that held so much power, his cock jumped at the idea of them wrapped around it.” 

Holy shit. 

Reading it was one thing, but being forced to hear from the last person you’d expect in the most naturally seductive voice imaginable was absolutely killing you in more ways than one. Especially when he was leaning right into your ear, his chin softly resting on your shoulder as if he were reading you a lullaby. 

Heat flooded your face, but Suguru’s voice was steady and calm—completely unbothered as if he weren’t reading about your smuttiest innermost fantasies and making your embarrassment skyrocket. You felt so vulnerable and exposed and dirty and like you couldn’t get enough air and fuck—you didn’t know what Suguru was trying to prove or if this was his wicked way of trying to embarrass you before breaking up with you, but the torture was too much, and you had to get out of there.

Panicking, you tried to get up, but no-no—he wasn’t about to let you slip away from storytime that easily, and his arm snaked around your waist and secured you against him with a gentle but unyielding grip. His legs followed suit, quickly wrapping around yours and locking you in place, and you gasped in disbelief when your thighs effortlessly parted and exposed your pretty, clothed pussy.

Helpless whines escaped you, and he tsked, smiling at your sudden innocence. Like you couldn’t believe this was really happening. Like you couldn’t believe that the same filth you craved, obsessed, and dreamt over was now spilling from your boyfriend’s pretty mouth, sounding like a limited-edition audiobook Fanfic girlies could only dream of. And if you thought there was no possible way to make the situation worse than it already was, Suguru decided to take things up a notch and bring the book to life.

His lips lightly brushed your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin as he nuzzled your neck and inhaled your scent. Pressing kisses to the back of your neck, he stole a breath from your lungs when he nipped your ear. Perfectly mimicking the story’s peak and leaving you completely at his mercy as the lines between fantasy and reality blurred.

His hand around your waist trailed across your stomach with a deliberate slowness, traveling down until he grasped your inner thighs, knowing this was one of your most sensitive spots and drawing possessive lines that made your clit begin to tingle and swell through your panties.

Inching closer and closer, the sly smile in his voice grew, and your breath grew shallower until it hitched, sparks igniting when he ghosted over your clit. Your thighs trembled, but his voice remained smooth and unwavering.

Suguru noticed a twisted sense of satisfaction growing within as he felt you squirm, simultaneously struggling to close your legs even though you throbbed like crazy for more. You were caught between sheer embarrassment and undeniable arousal. Not knowing which to give in to.

He pressed his cheek to yours. “You’re so cute when you blush,” he murmured, becoming distracted by your reactions as he poured out endless praise—so flustered, so sickenly distraught and overwhelmed, but it only made him smile.

You always get so shy when he compliments you. His usually confident girl easily coming undone with only a few soft words and a glint in his eyes. And he loved it—the way you always tried to pretend you weren’t seconds away from completely unraveling when he flirted.

He hummed thoughtfully, wondering how long you could keep it up this time. And what it would take for you to fold.

“Finish up for me, pretty girl,” he decided, and handing you the book, his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties and brushed your soaking folds.

You stiffened, the sudden warmth snatching your breath and making it impossible to get a single sentence or objection out. 

“C’mon baby,” he kissed your shoulder, fingers stilling right on your clit. “You have such a pretty voice.” 

The fucking Devil.

You let out a shaky moan, not knowing whether you hated or still loved him in that moment, but either way, you sure as hell weren’t going to let him see you crack, and you drew a breath.

Clearing your throat, you swallowed thicky and mustered up the steadiest voice you could to prove you wouldn’t just be a victim of this wicked game of his. And you were doing so well, for a sentence or two. Until his slick fingers started to call your bluff and gradually began to draw slow, precise circles right on your swollen bud. 

And God help you, you couldn't stop the stutter.

“Sm-smeared mas-sc-scara ran hah down y-your f-face.” You paused and closed your eyes, wetting your lips before continuing. “You’d p-pay for your ah used and…and b-br-bruised t-throat in the morning bUT,” you yelped when he squeezed your waist. “It-it was a small price to p-pay to taste a c-cock sss-so d-delish.” 

Suguru chuckled lightly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. But it wasn’t enough. 

He needed to see you completely fall apart. 

His free hand glided upward and fondled your breast, his thumb taunting and brushing over your nipple. You instinctively arched into his touch, a series of soft whimpers escaping your lips as he rolled them between his fingers until they were sensitive and hard. 

Your body couldn't decide which overwhelming sensation to focus on—the weight of his fingers just sitting and taunting your clit or the jolts of pleasure running to your core with each pinch of your nipple. Both sent messy moans tumbling out of your mouth. 

He grinned against your shoulder. “You’re so responsive tonight,” he said, adding to the heady mix of lust and frustration. Building you up and bringing you down in a vicious cycle as every time you crept closer and closer to losing it, he was quick to slow and remind you to keep going.

But your thighs kept quaking and your breath kept hitching and you could only squirm so much trying to rock into his touch and steal Heaven, but his fingers were light and easily kept you right on the edge. Touching only your clit and leaving you distraught as your poor, neglected walls began to ache. 

But your desperation was too loud to ignore, and knowing you wouldn’t give up, he smirked—like boyfriend, like girlfriend—and he nipped your ear, pulling back the hood of your clit before he strummed his fingers over it. Fast. “Go for it,” Suguru whispered. 

And fuck, it took all of 2 seconds for your legs to become a vibrating mess and made him wrap his tighter, your breath going light as you rose up on your toes. 

Whimpering. 

Heart racing.

Eyes drawing closed as you mentally sang his praises for allowing you to finally cum. Walking you to the line of release and rapture with every flick of your hot clit and every breath on your skin right up until he stopped.

You let out a defeated scoff.

You weren’t getting off that easy.  

He pulled the long-forgotten book from your hands, and you yelped, suddenly being lifted and bent over his knee. He gave you a second to adjust, then secured you with an arm around your waist, rolling up the hem of your dress before his heavy palm settled on your ass, fingers languidly massaging your cheeks.

You felt so plush as he caressed your skin, gripping you lovingly between his fingers before he delivered a heavy slap.

“Why’d you keep this from me?”

A shriek died in your throat, a million things instantly flying through your head. Shock from this stranger you called a boyfriend, how you ended up here, how no one could’ve ever convinced you that this situation only found in books and on the internet would actually happen to you. 

Endless things to think about but nothing to say.

“Oh, we’re being shy now?” Any other time, you would spend hours yapping Suguru’s ears off about one thing or another and he’d dote on every word. But now they were escaping you. 

*SLAP!*

And he gripped your cheek to soothe the sting, fingers running over the raised marks the rings he never takes off left on your skin.

He hummed, eyeing the soaked patch on your panties, biting his lip seeing you’d gotten even wetter since he bent you over his knee.

His fingers couldn’t resist gently dragging over your clothed folds, just light enough that it felt like a ghost and made you shudder. You pushed back, trying to chase it, your mind borderline broken and desperate to quench your insatiable thirst, but found it impossible to move. 

“Let’s try this again.” And he delivered a slap even harsher than the last, making you squirm under his tight grip. 

Obviously, you hadn’t learned your lesson from earlier, and when you tried to get away, Suguru swiftly pinned your arms behind your back and didn’t skip a beat, landing another series of slaps on the same spot since you wanted to be so damn difficult. 

You knew you couldn’t escape but neither would your words, silent screams building up as you just had to lie there and take it. Emotional turmoil churned within, leaving you questioning everything you thought you knew about Suguru who was promptly lighting your ass up. Bringing to life each hot sting that you’ve fantasized about in stories, on TV, and in the dirty thoughts of your boyfriend maybe one day warming up to the idea—but not like this. This was so sudden. Too much. So overwhelming to the point that nothing came out of you but feeble whines and stuttering breaths until you were on the verge of tears when “I’m sorry!” finally slipped from your defeated lips.

Suguru froze. 

His heart thumped. 

And in the span of a few seconds, Suguru learned a few things about himself. 

1. He hadn’t expected himself to be able to break you so quickly. You’re as tough as he is, hell, even tougher sometimes, and only admit defeat when you absolutely cannot fight anymore. 

2. He hadn’t expected to fall head over heels in love with the sound of your cries and heavy breaths as you tried to gather yourself. 

Knowing he was the cause and this was the effect of you being worn out and surrendering made his dick thump against your stomach. 

He rubbed slow, soothing circles on your flushed cheeks.

“It’s ok baby, it’s ok,” he shushed, and you felt so pitiful yet turned on that you could cry. But as much as he wanted to relish in your punishment for keeping secrets, he also needed to reveal one of his own. “Because I’ve known for a while.”

“You wHAT?” Your voice cracked. If you could look him in the eyes, you would just so he could see how utterly flabbergasted you were because there was no freaking way. “How??”

“C’mon babe,” he snickered, “You watch DevilBoy Games, a lot, and Toru told me how you DBG girls are, I’ve seen you drool over that crazy guy with bags under his eyes.”

“He’s not crazy,” you huffed, “Just misunderstood.”

He laughed, lightly squeezing your thigh. “He kinda looks like me.” 

“Get over yourself.” And you’d cross your arms if he weren’t still holding them.

He tsked. “Are you really surprised, love?” he asked, smirking before completely reading you, mentioning that there was no way you thought he wouldn’t notice the nights when you would stay up late, blushing at your phone. 

Never once wondering if you were talking to some other guy or anyone else, but putting two and two together pretty early on when you said you were having reading time on your favorite social platform known for its…content. Scrolling the site for hours just to soak up pure filth. 

As secretive as you tried to seem about it, the obsession never stopped you from being bold enough to do it in bed.

Suguru pouted. “So, you don’t like me enough or what?” he asked, his tone teasing yet laced with genuine curiosity. He often wondered why you didn’t just say anything—how you could be so close to him and dive into your fantasies but not act on them. 

Your face instantly heated. “It’s not…it’s not like that at all!” you stammered, struggling to find the right words. “I just—it’s different, okay?”

He cocked his head. "Different how?"

“I don’t know I…–I honestly didn’t think you’d be into that stuff,” you admitted, feeling more vulnerable than ever and even a little guilty. You deflated. “I thought you’d think I was weird.”

"My baby? Weird?” He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "That can’t be it.” And he leaned close. “Or maybe you just thought I couldn't handle it," and his eyes gleamed.

Your stomach dropped, eyes going wide as you were once again left shocked and speechless. But Suguru let go of your arms, satisfied enough with your confession and ready to play now, for real.

Your pussy practically swallowed your drenched panties that clung to you as he pulled them to the side, the cool air kissing your folds before you felt his warm fingers swirl over your glistening vulva.

He smiled—you were so sensitive—bucking at the languid strokes as he gathered your slick. He’s always been gifted with his fingers and quick to make you fall apart from the slightest touch.

He bit his lip, unable to resist lightly dipping his fingertips in just to bring them to his mouth and give you a taste.

“So fucking good.” He could play with you forever. Licking his lips, he parted yours, transfixed on your walls that clenched around nothing. Desperate to take his fingers that teased desperate whines out of you. 

“You gonna keep any more secrets from me, baby?” 

You shook your head, desperate to do or say whatever, which Suguru knew, but he needed you to mean it. 

He’d been edging you for almost half an hour now and his own dick was just as strained and blue-balled as your pussy, but he could and would hold out as long as he had to to make sure you’d never feel ashamed enough to hide any parts of you ever again. He just needed to hear the words, and he dipped just the tip of his finger inside you. “Say it.” 

“I promise, Sugu, never again,” you pleaded, your voice shaking. "I’ll never keep anything from you again, just please, I—” you almost choked. "I need you so badly.”

The words spilled out you, sounding so pretty when you begged. And when he finally believed you, your mouth fell open, but nothing came out—a breath catching in your throat and eyes fluttering at that familiar stretch as he slowly pushed in. Walls finally sucking in the fingers they’d been so hungry for.

You could’ve came right then. 

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. You felt like home. 

Your spongey walls squished and pulsed around him like a heartbeat, his fingers sinking in slow until you drew a sharp breath, your leg twitching.

Right there, he smiled, almost instantly finding that gushy spot of yours that makes you see white. 

He whistled—this mouth-watering position not only gave him an immaculate view of your ass he wanted to sink his teeth into but also let his peace fingers perfectly angle and beckon your gspot. 

His other hand slowly spread you wide, and he cooed, marveling at how easy he slid in and out, his fingers hooking with each dip as he took advantage of the easy access and sent sparks to your toes.

Your teeth tugged at your lip, brows drawing together. He was pushing so sinfully into you, his fingers flowing like waves with the full intent to draw your orgasm out of you as he’d done millions of times before. Always leaving you breathless, heady, and unbelieving how natural it was for him to bring you to absolute shambles.

His pace was agonizingly slow, plunging in and out with a deliberate rhythm that had you trembling and your lip sore from biting and stifling your pathetic moans. His dick painfully throbbed against your stomach, the heat of it branding your skin with each ragged breath you took trying to contain yourself.

After keeping you on the edge for so long without mercy, he was about to send you plummeting into the deep end, his own restraint slipping with every passing second as his pace gradually increased, your slick beginning to pool around his fingers when you felt your orgasm coming on. 

Your muscles tightened around him as he pushed you towards your peak, the sound of his fingers fucking into you rivaling macaroni but had to battle your fat mouth spilling out moans like a starving slut. 

“Ssh ssh ssh.” His hand slipped over your mouth. “I wanna hear her, she sounds so pretty.” And without restraint, the squelches of your pussy fucked the air, your drool slipping through his fingers and dripping down the side of your mouth. And just as you felt time slowing, he quickly swapped fingers, his middle and ring fingers angling down and furiously hitting that blinding spot that sent your eyes rolling.

Forgetting how to breathe, your cherry-O raced around the corner, aiming to crash right into you. Slowly, you began to arch your back into his hand, core tightening. And when you drew a deep breath, eyes screwing shut as you held it, his voice was deep and low to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, let it out.” And he racked his fingers until the pressure of your orgasm burst open.

"ohoHfuckfuCKFUCK SUGUSUGUSUGUOHMYGODIMCUMMING!" You clutched his calf and toppled over, your fluids spilling around his fingers and down your thighs, making a complete mess on his pants.

“Gooood girl, just like that,” he said almost desperately, biting down on his lip to stifle his own moans, but his fingers didn’t slow down, jiggling into you until you were writhing and begging for relief. He just had to make sure he got it all out, his silky fingers swimming deep into your sopping and noisy pussy until he wrung out all your shudders then slowed until your breaths somewhat returned to normal.  

You came down, releasing your grip on him, your calves sore and aching from being on your toes.

Suguru smirked and licked his fingers clean, impressed by the sight of you lifelessly hanging over his legs: pathetic, spent, and cute.

After a moment of just holding you, he leaned down, pressing a kiss on your slightly reddened cheek before giving you an unexpected but quick lick of your pussy that made you twitch.

Yup, good and sensitive, just like he liked it.

Gently rubbing your back, he hummed. “Is my little slut satisfied?”

“Suguru!” Un uh—now he was calling you names?? You barely managed to open your eyes, still in a daze as you tried to look at him.

“What?” he shrugged. “Just making sure…the author said you wouldn’t be,” he cocked a brow with a playful smile. “...Right?”

…the godforsaken author’s note. 

“For all my sluts who’d rather be fucked by fictional men than real ones.“

You ran your limp noodle of a hand over your face and groaned. Just when you thought the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, your fave author doubled back and helped you stumble into more trouble.

But Suguru wasn’t offended, not even a little bit. If anything, he looked amused, a slight smirk gracing his lips with a flicker of something else in his eyes. 

He’d been waiting for an opportunity like this and bided his time. Now, every little secret and hidden desire you thought you’d keep forever buried in those books was out in the open and his for the taking—and he was ready to tear them apart.

“Suguru, I—” 

“It’s ok,” he shushed, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he tenderly cupped your face. But the hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you saw that sly grin spread across his face before he said, “We’ll see about that.”

Things were a bit…different..after that night. 

It wasn’t something either of you discussed outright, but there was definitely a shift—an unspoken understanding that lingered in the air between you.

At first, it was like you were meeting for the first time all over again, and you slipped back into that shy, uncertain girl you were when Suguru first came into your life. Every knowing look he gave you, every slight touch, had you blushing, anticipating. As if you, once again, had no idea how to handle him—or how he would handle you. 

He was slowly unveiling the quiet power you never knew or expected him to possess. And he was making sure you wouldn’t dismiss it again.

Now, it was you who hesitated before speaking, nervously fiddling with your fingers any time he asked you something even slightly suggestive before your eyes would dart away in embarrassment—not knowing that Suguru was absolutely loving this budding dynamic. 

He would tease but never pushed too hard because he was patient. Always patient and watching with that soft, amused smile anytime you fumbled for words or tried to play off how flustered you were. Gradually coming to terms with the fact that your boyfriend—the same one who always gave you a gentle look and treated you like you were more than precious—was more than willing to cater to and control you until you creamed and cried. 

But honestly, not much had changed for Suguru. He still carried that same calm, subtle soft-dom energy that had always drawn you in—now there was just a label for it.

But there was a subtle shift in the way he handled you, like a quiet reminder that he knew you now—all of you. And he made one thing clear and made sure you understood it—closed mouths don’t get fed—and it was a lesson you had to learn quickly, especially after you promised not to keep any more secrets. And whenever you’d shy away or fall into your usual silence, Suguru would tilt your chin and hold your gaze with those piercing, violet eyes. “Use your words, Pretty,” he’d say, and your cheeks would burn with embarrassment, but you’d still push through because you knew he was right. 

So you stayed true to your word and began looking for all the ways you could experiment and get what you wanted…in the only way a little gremlin like you could…by getting him riled up. And for a minute, he would just take it on the chin. But then he discovered breath play. 

You were really getting on his nerves one day.  

But you felt like you would actually die if he left you to hang with the boys when something in you was practically begging you to crawl into his skin. He was about to leave out wearing your favorite hoodie of his too, the one that's slightly cropped and hangs just above his midriff, and you sulked because you knew that any thirsty bitch in the vicinity would try to be on him like white on rice even when Suguru never paid them any mind. 

Besides, he had already fucked you silly that morning and had been pampering you with kisses all afternoon, so he didn’t understand why you were being so clingy. 

But you were craving something else. A bit of something to eat.

And instead of just telling him that you wanted his dick down your throat and past your tonsils, you decided to block the front door, cross-armed, scowling, and staring at the appetizing outline on his basketball shorts. Jealous that they got to hold his heavy balls all day instead of you.

His fingers snapped, “Babe,” the sound pulling you out of your silent tantrum and making you look at him with wanting eyes. “What’s up with you?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. 

But you just couldn't bring yourself to say it, so you deepened your silent pout until he pinched his nose and sighed.

“Then move,” he started, stepping closer, but you shook your head and widened your stance like a toddler.

A smirk played on his lips as he loomed over you, taking in your pettiness before his hand thudded next to your head.

You jumped, but your defiance didn’t waver, your eyes lifting to meet his. His smug expression only deepened as he shifted, the heat of his coveted dick pressing against your thigh in a way that made your breath hitch.  

“Move,” he repeated, but you just pressed your lips tighter, your eyes challenging him. 

His other hand slid up, fingers gently curling around your neck and thumb brushing over your pulse. "We doing this again?" he asked, low and laced with threat.

What could you say? Old habits die hard. 

But he knew what you wanted. The way you thickly swallowed and wet your lips, eyes darting to the growing tent between you, spoke volumes even when you wouldn’t.

“Fine,” he said, and before you knew it, your knees were hitting the ground, his hand settling on your head and making you slink to the floor. He tilted your chin. “Open that pretty mouth since you don’t want to use it.”

And at his gruff command, your tongue lolled out, unapologetically.

He tsked, tucking his lip under his teeth at your display. 

You’re the most difficultly-easy person he knows next to Satoru, quick to make the simplest things complicated sometimes, and this time, he was going to give you exactly what you were asking for, but not without reprimand. 

His thumb landed on your pink tongue, pressing and holding your gaze.

“You want it?” You caught a subtle thump, and he palmed his shorts. “Oi, up here” He held your jaw, cocking his brow.

His smirk was devilish, a knowing glint in his eye watching you grow needier by the second—unable to focus on anything but the desperate need for him to turn your throat into a daycare. 

Tongue trapped under his thumb, you finally answered him in the only way you knew how, and he watched with parted lips as yours closed around his finger with an eager nod. 

You were going to be the death of him.

With a tug of his shorts, your fat reward sprang forth, almost brushing the tip of your nose—already leaking stringy globs of precum for giving him such a hard time.

Your eyes sparkled. Suguru has such a pretty dick. One of the prettiest you’ve ever seen that’s girthy, long, and perfectly made for your greedy throat. 

It was heavy on your tongue as he tapped it, teasing your palate and holding it out for you to give it a taste.

Less was said, and you gladly accepted your meal, the taste of him coating your tongue as you swirled around the tip before sucking it into your mouth.  

Suguru’s knees almost buckled as you lapped at him like ice cream, your tongue tracing up and down his shaft before placing gentle kisses under his tip. His face went warm, his fingers threading through your hair as he fought to maintain control. “Don’t—ngh—tease. Suck it—mmph—properly.” And with a firm press to your bottom lip, he coaxed your mouth open before pushing in and filling it completely. 

You gagged, and a deep exhale left his lips feeling your warm mouth finally wrap around him, your eyes watering as the weight of his dick fully seated on your tongue and made your lips stretch to savor every inch.

“That’s it—mphm—take it all.”

His hips automatically moved at the feel of your throat, his head softly falling back feeling you relax and hum around him. He couldn’t help but gently thrust, his spongy tip kissing the back of your throat and making you blink back tears as he tested your limits. And you only made it harder for him to hold back with the way you ate him up like candy. 

Even though head is a game, you never play. All day, you’d been torturing yourself, once again denying yourself of your insistent need to swallow his kids in the name of shame, but once the reins were off, you wasted no time satisfying your craving—knowing exactly how to get Suguru to blow his load.

And fuck was it a losing battle for him to try to keep the tendrils of his orgasm at bay while also trying to remember that he was supposed to be teaching you a lesson.

As he said, closed mouths don’t get fed, and he started pulling away with a satisfying ‘pop’ every time you got too greedy. Rubbing his dick over your lips with a grin before snaking back in and taking you further and further down each time. 

He groaned watching you take him, your eyes meeting as you looked up. The new cut in his brow made them look even sexier when he bunched them, complementing the low and husky look in his eyes you’d never seen before you sent them rolling when he wrapped your hair around his fist and pushed in to the base.

“Hah.” His breath hitched as you swallowed. Once. Twice. Holding you down a sec before he pulled out with an exhale. And as he watched your heavy breaths, struggling to collect yourself but looking up at him with a starry-eyed but fucked out gaze, he got an idea. 

“Why do you act so innocent all the time?” he huffed, pushing back in. “Look at you,” his thumb stretched your lips, “Choking on my dick and loving it.” Always the innocent ones, he thinks, full of frills and freaks. 

And you couldn’t deny how the slow and lewd way he fucked your throat made your pussy drip like a waterfall, uring you to rub fast circles across your throbbing clit, but he knew you would try. 

You were a cock-drunk slut, after all, always getting off when he stretched, used, and abused your throat to his satisfaction, so he knew he would have to lock your hands away to keep your mouth open and you focused since you wanted to taste him so badly.

Still fucking your throat, he said, “Take a breath, baby,” and soon after, you gagged when he leaned over you. “Hold it,” and he pulled the string from his hoodie and began counting. “One, two, three.” Bringing a flood of tears to your fluttering eyes as he sank deep into your throat and tied your wrists behind your back.

Air. God, what is air?? Your lungs screamed for it, stomach tight, but your pussy clenched so sinfully tight from the lack of it. 

You didn’t know it then, but this was an accidental deep dive into something you’d both come to love. The control, the discipline, the trust. The skill you had to possess as a certified throat goat. And most of all, the uncertainty of never knowing when he was going to allow your next breath. Every time counting down until you were squirming for air before pulling out with an exhale as if he were breathing with you.

He ogled at the messy evidence of effort plastered on your face, strings of spit connecting from your lips to his pink tip. His dick twitched at your huffs and tear-streaked face and he rubbed your puffy lips. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby,” and the words went straight to your swollen clit before he continued playing with you.

He loved how your throat closed around his dick when you swallowed, like you were trying to milk him for every drop. Sucking, blowing, and swallowing til your throat knew every vein and his orgasm was coming and coming fast. His stuttering hips and tightening grip on your hair were enough evidence if the low moans competing with the sloshes of your throat weren’t. 

Heat pooled in his stomach, brows furrowing as he locked eyes with a borderline whiny look. He licked his lips. “Ready for me to cum for you, baby?” he asked in that breathy voice he always does before he unravels. And your dick-drunk nod, knowing you were about to earn your meal, was all he needed to cup your jaw, making sure you looked him right in the eye as the coil in him snapped.

“Fuck, hah, I’m cumming,” and he groaned, biting his pierced lips and slipping all the way to the base til your nose brushed his tufts of hair and he filled your throat. 

Ropes of cum poured out of him, and he went dizzy, his mouth falling open with shaky moans watching your spaced and gone face as he came down your throat. Your wrists strained against the tie as your throat constricted, but you swallowed his throbbing cock with ease like it was the only sustenance you needed. Pumping you full until he was a soft and empty gummy worm in your mouth. 

He shuddered and collected his breaths, slowly pulling from your lips with a sigh. You hummed and licked them—most of your lunch had gone to your stomach, but remnants remained on your tongue, warm and delicious. 

"ThAnk," you cleared your throat. "Thank you," you huffed, throat raw and voice cracking, but he just shook his head and smiled. You were above asking for what you wanted but never forgot to be grateful when you got it.

He swiped your chin with his thumb. "You're a brat," and you beamed, lifting your chin. Because he didn't know how right he was.

And while that was just the beginning of your exploration of power dynamics, it quickly became a very slippery slope. Because while you might've thought you were the expert in all things whips and chains and excitement, Suguru had been quietly doing some research and taking hellah notes. And taking one directly from you, he soon began to make a few secret purchases of his own.

Suguru has his hobbies. 

He likes to read, play sports to stay fit, and enjoys spending time in nature when he can. Outside of that, he’s pretty simple. 

But there’s a little-known fun fact about your beau—he’s a secret artiste.

It’s rare that he’ll break out his paints and easel, but once every blue moon when his inner Picasso strikes, he’ll sit for hours, brush to canvas until it all pours out of him. 

You always find yourself in a trance watching him in that element—his quiet intensity as he gets lost in space and creates galaxies. But even though Suguru isn't loud about his talent, he’s actually very creative and always looking for different ways to release and create. Never shying awaying from trying new things and always looking for new mediums. And canvases. 

You slightly winced, then moaned. 

Wax is hot in more ways than one, and it’s just perfect for when Suguru wants to creatively get his hands on you.

He loves creating delicate patterns on your back, savoring every moment and watching your face twist between pain and ecstasy as he skillfully lets the wax drip. Never too much at once, the hot lines spill and cool across his favorite canvas—your skin. There's a world of difference between paper stretched across wood, and the softness beneath his hands, and your skin is far lovelier, simply irresistible. 

His hair brushed your skin as he leaned down, his lips tracing down your back and between the patterns. So soft against his lips. All of you, from your neck to your chest to your tummy, softly mold under his fingers like clay when he worships you like art, and sometimes he’ll drip hot lines down your inner thighs and plush cheeks just so he can melt his lips between them—feeling so lucky to have the privilege to feast on a masterpiece. 

Your own little van Gogh, drowning his nose in your folds and bringing curses to your lips.

You knew Suguru was a modern-day Michelangelo with a paintbrush, but now your once shy and reserved man was having too much fun exploring all the unconventional ways he could create art—and slowly crossing over into a world of kinky debauchery. 

And at the end of every session, he never forgets to take a Polaroid picture to show you and keep for himself. A little testament to his sentiments and sensuality. It wasn’t all just about whips and chains after all. 

You also needed—

Buzz! 

Your eyes screw shut and you tense but can’t move because of the

—rope.

“Hey,” Suguru snaps. “I said keep your eyes on me,” and you shot daggers at him because how the hell could you when you’ve been overstimulated for hours and have already cum, twice?  

Eyes softening, you whimper, but your heart sinks when he just rolls his eyes.

Fuck. 

You really did it this time. 

Your boyfriend has a lot of patience, a thin line for everyone else but a lot for you. But God, do you know how to fucking tap dance on it sometimes.

“Did you think you were cute?” his face screwed. “Dancing in sections and on bars. Guys?” The vibrations increase, and you double over whining.

In all fairness, you did beg him to come out with you and your girls earlier, but your boo has been working on a big project lately and was understandably beyond tired. Still, you complained, eventually giving up and still going out without him, but you didn't expect a play-by-play of your night and mini rebellion to end up all over your equally drunk friend’s Snapchat—or for Suguru to see it. 

You picked a hell of a time to act out too, because, after weeks of secretly practicing his newest obsession, Suguru had finally perfected it: the harness prayer tie, and watching your wrists struggle against his work was the most satisfying confirmation of his skill he could’ve asked for. 

The skill and intricacy of restraint and rope play was the perfect balance between tapping into his creative side and reeling you in when you got out of hand—now proving very useful after you had fully pissed him off. 

Leaning down, he grips your face. “You wanna act like a slut so badly, I’m gonna treat you one.”

But he didn’t just give you the dick you’d been acting out over right away though—he hardly thought you deserved it. 

Instead, a vibrator has been nuzzling your clit for hours after he woke you up the following morning and went to work with his tie—your blubbering whines falling on deaf ears as he overstimulated you until you felt ruined and raw.

Sniffling, you plead, “I’m sorry, Sugu.”

“You’re always sorry,” he bites back, his hand wrapping under your jaw. “And so fucking greedy, you know that? I bet you still want me to fuck you stupid like the cock-thirsty slut you are even though you’ve been begging me for a break.” And your stomach pangs, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs despite the rawness because he was more than right. 

“You want attention so bad, you want me to fuck you so bad,” he pulls your hair, making you look straight at him. “Then beg,” and the serious way he looks at you makes you actually start to feel bad for upsetting him so much.

Swallowing your pride, tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Please,” you whimper, “I’ll do anything just please…please fuck me.”

And the words had barely left your lips when fear shot through you, his eyes darkening as you quickly realized that you should’ve been more careful with what you wished for. 

Without warning, he placed you on the bed and flipped you over. Gripping your hips, he hastily pushed you down into a grade-A arch and tucked his tee between his teeth, springing his cock free before knocking a breath out of you with one swift thrust. 

You both gasp, every muscle tensing as your Earths shatter.

Suguru nearly collapses. Your tight pussy that's been dripping and yearning for hours is easy to slide into yet struggles to accommodate his fat girth, but that doesn't stop him from reeling his hips back and pushing in even deeper.

You nearly draw blood from your lip as he begins to thrust with a pent-up intensity that's been building since last night, nearly blue-balling himself to take care of you in your drunken state and fighting the urge to say fuck it and punish you right then and there.

But now that you were good and sober and overly sensitive, he could finally ruin your dick-starved pussy and fuck you blind. 

His hold on you tightens, his knuckles turning white as he fucks into you with a primal urgency. Not caring if you can take it or not because he needs his dick burned into your brain in a way you wouldn’t forget. Besides, who could possibly hold back when you feel so fucking good wrapped around him? Mind-numbing in a way he can never get enough and desperately needs more, and he grips the divots of your waist and pulls you closer, making struggled whines fall from your mouth as he makes you simply take it.

The nerves of your pussy are on fire as every inch of him stretches and hastily fills you, the persistent vibrator on your clit still buzzing and sending you spiraling.

The way he's manhandling you, the soreness in your wrists, and the relentless rhythm of his hips all blend into a rush more intoxicating than anything you had last night until you're overwhelmed and bucking to get away. 

“Uh-uh, don’t run.” And his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up and back against him, two fingers hooking in your mouth and making you arch so deliciously that every kiss of your cervix sends spasms through your walls and coaxes his cock for everything he’s got. 

"You feel that?" he snaps. "I fucking bet you do." And your breath grows lighter and lighter until your head goes dizzy, your body turning to Jell-O and slowly melting into the bed, but he follows you down and deepens his stroke. You lose your arch, but with one quick thrust, your nails are digging into your palms. He slaps your ass, punishment for making him mess up his rhythm, before hiking you back up and resuming the brutal pace.

Your mind goes blank and his hair falls from its neat bun, sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead from how hard he's fucking you and leaving you caught between begging for mercy and craving more of this delicious torture.

"Look at you," he growls, "Fuckin' brat—ngh—this is what you wanted, right?" And you can barely form a coherent thought, let alone speak, your reply coming out as garbled moans, but Suguru is having none of it, his hand sliding from your neck to your hair and pulling your head back. You cry out, the sound muffled by his fingers still hooked in your mouth as he bottoms out inside you. "I asked you a question," and the room fills with obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and fumbling 'yeses' from your mouth as he bullies your cervix. 

"Fuck hah," his brows furrow, "you drive me crazy, you know that?" he says, voice strained. "You wanted attention?" he breathes, "Well, now you've got it. Every. Fucking. Inch of it." and each word is punctuated by his leaky tip, making your overstimulated pussy clench and draw a sharp hiss from his lips.

"That's it, baby," his rhythm slightly falters. "Squeeze my cock. Show me how sorry you are." And his hand slips from your lips and snakes around your front, pressing the vibrator even harder against you until the delicious stretch of his cock and the merciless buzzing becomes too much to bear.

Your vision blurs, your thighs quaking and trying to draw together, but there's no escape. 

"You right there?" He pushes through the familiar clench of your walls. "Then cum for me," Suguru commands, and the words are the final push you need for your orgasm to rip through you like lightning—your body involuntarily arching as waves of hot, white pleasure crash over you.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," you helplessly choke out, walls spazzing and gripping Suguru's cock like shackles, pulsating around him until it forces his own to come chasing after yours.

He struggles for breaths, "Where do you want it, baby?" But it was just a formality, a silly question really, because there was no way he could pull out of your vice-grip. He just needed to know you wanted it as badly as he wanted to fill you up.

"Inside, please, inside me, please," you stammer, still reeling from your own orgasm before he sends you into another, pulling you taunt by the rope and flushing you against his waist.

"Take it," and his moan is low and guttural, his fingers digging into your hips and locking you in as his body tenses, his hot seed flooding and filling you to the brim.

Your eyes meet the top of your head as you cum again in tandem, bliss rippling through your bodies.

"Fuck, c'mere." His lips crash onto yours in a searing kiss, plunging his pulsing cock deep into you one more time as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, pumping out the last of his seed until you're both panting and trembling and he feels his cum oozing out of you.

Slowly, Suguru releases his grip on your hair, deeply exhaling as he gently lowers the both of you to the bed, his softening cock still nestled inside you. You whimper at the still buzzing vibrator, and he finally switches it off, tossing it aside.

He presses soft, soothing kisses to your shoulder. "You did so well, baby," and he carefully unties the rope, his touch tender and apologetic as he massages the faint marks and kisses your wrists. 

Out of everything you do together, inside and out of your newfound dynamic, this is his favorite part of all: putting you back together after breaking you into pieces.

His unwavering desire to care for you never changes, even when you do the absolute most just to get his attention and show him that you're just as obsessed with him as he is with you—your private but unmistakably commanding Panther and his secretly kinky Powderpuff princess who was now hanging on to life by a thread.

He softly laughs, slinging your limp arms around his neck and pulling you lovingly into his chest as you breathe. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your rib, his lips peppering your head with kisses as he sighed, feeling your heartbeat slowly sync with his.

But after a few moments in each other's arms, a curiosity that's been living rent-free in Suguru's head for quite some time now rears its ugly head—and he just has to know the answer.

"Sooo," he drawls, "... Taichi or me?" And you almost snort, a smile tugging at your lips as you nuzzle his chest. You look up at him with a playful gaze only to find him deadass—figuring that after a day like today, there would be no better time to officially find out if he's finally settled the score with your anime husband.

Your eyes smile, and you reach up with the little strength you have to gently stroke his face and softly kiss his jaw.

You contently sigh. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, babe.”

extended angel's note: oh god what can i say...

i can confidently say that this took me the entire month of september to write and it's definitely the hardest pieces i've worked on so far god bLESS

y'all have no idea how much word count RESTRAINT i had to use just to keep this reasonable (i do have a slightly extended version just for myself tho 🤭)

this was supposed to drop on my bday (unironically the day JJK ended) but life is life 🤠

anywho, thanks for reading 12k words of pure unadultered, unhinged smut. i hope it was worth it 🫶🏿

[sits-bound]

Bound: A bunch of fics by @cricketnationrise

These two binds were created for the @fandomtrumpshate auction that @cricketnationrise won. (Technically, the first was for the auction, the second was just a bonus.)

Collected Cricklets (aka "Cricket's Ficlets")

This bind is a collection of over 100 ficlets in four collections representing four different fandoms. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to typeset this, it was a fun challenge. Here's what I did:

Each fandom got a different font

The page header (?sider?) had the collection name and fandom name and page number.

The time or date (all fics had a place and a time and/or date) were in a digital clock font.

Each collection opens with a title page foiled in gold (should have been silver, alas.)

I wanted to include the summaries and tags and other metadata for each ficlet, but I didn't want to clutter the pages too much, so I put them in the back as an appendix.

The cover design includes symbols from all of the fandoms (Check Please!, Red, White & Royal Blue, Tortall, and Parasol Protectorate.)

Defining Expectations

I learned how to make a hardcover pamphlet bound book recently, and I decided as a bonus I was going to bind this wonderful fic as one. It's a little long for a single signature bind (27 sheets!), but it worked in the end. I used this tutorial from DAS.

This one was fun for a few reasons. First, there were texts and support tickets and emails and definitions, and I had to figure out how to typeset them all to make them stand out in the text. Then, I decided it should look like a dictionary, so I used faux leather (from Dollar Tree, it's great for binding) and took inspiration from a few dictionaries for the cover and title page.

And, okay, I may have had too much fun with the photo shoot for this one.

Thanks again Cricket for bidding on my auctions! I very much enjoyed putting these together.

[fairyrcts]

fall bf!matt headcanons

by fairyrcts contents - fluff, intended lowercase, pet names

an - i adore fall matt

taglist - @pvssychicken , @gothiccvnt6996 , @emely9274 (header by @issysh3ll )

fall bf!matt who gets excited over small things

"baby, look!" his voice was excited as he picked up a perfectly shaped maple leaf on your morning walk.

"it's like the emoji!" matt's smile was brighter than the morning sun, it beamed so happily.

"take a picture, sunshine." you reciprocated the gleamimg grin while matt let go of your hand for a moment to take a photo of the picture-pefect leaf.

fall bf!matt who makes mini at home dates

you came downstairs after over an hour of working. the smell of sugar cookies filled your nose.

matt stood infront of the oven, taking a batch of pillsbury halloween cookies out of it.

on the couch sat two autumn-themed blankets, a small platter of food, a candle and the tv set on tim burton's the corpse bride.

"okay, so we're gonna have a marathon. we've got corpse bride, frankenwienie, hocus pocus, beetlejuice and edward scissorhands. sound good?"

fall bf!matt who'll buy you autumn snacks

"look what they had at the store!" he smiled as he walked in through the door and sat the grocery bag on top of the table in front of you.

he began taking the items out of the bag, handing you a pumpkin spice cookie and a cinnamon coffee.

"are these for me?" you ask with a small grin on your face before he nodded and gave you a small kiss to the cheek. "duh."

fall bf!matt who makes autumn playlists for the two of you.

matt laid on your chest, the both of you scrolling on your phones while clairo played on the tv in his room.

you looked through instagram, a notification popping up on your phone from the boy who's head was lying on you.

"did you just..?" you giggled, looking down at him.

"yup. it's a fall playlist. it's got the smiths, fiona apple, beach weather, mazzy star. literally everything." his voice was gentle as a soft smile appeared on his face.

fall bf!matt who's always outside with you

the two of you walked the streets of boston, coffee shops and book stores on either side on you.

"i hope you know, we're 100% having an autumn wedding." he looked down at you as he spoke, swing your hands a bit.

"in order to even have a wedding, you have to propose first." you said in a teasing manner.

"in order to propose, i need to know you're okay with an autumn wedding." he spoke in a know-it-all tone.

"i'm more than okay with it, i promise you."

[tarotwithdanise]

PICK-A-CARD : THE ROMANTIC TROPE BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE (LOVER)

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ sections ✧ . ˚

1. Your romance trope with them.

2. Their love language and how they'll express it.

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ how to choose pile? ✧ . ˚

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

1 - 2 - 3

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

1. Just a quick disclaimer : This reading was made for entertainment purposes only. This is obviously a general reading so takes what will resonates and leave those doesn’t, you don’t need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment - just to say it doesn’t resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious! I don’t own any these pictures i collected them from pinterest so credits to the rightful owners.

2. Please ignore any grammatical errors with my reading since english is not my first language, thank you for understanding!

3. Third to the last one, if you are not an avid fan of this kind of readings and not totally 100% agree about the outcome of this pac please just ignore this post and don’t engaged anymore, this pac can contains harsh, hurtful comments about you or the other person that can trigger you if possible, so kindly read at your own risk and take how it’ll resonates.

4. Lastly, be happy and enjoy reading my works — feedbacks, comments, likes, reblogs and follows are really appreciated by the reader. (that’s me, lol :3)

for tips, donation, masterlist and paid readings ☆

TIPS JAR DONATION BOX

MASTERLIST PAID READING SERVICES

[ ♡ ] check out my second and back-up account @danisetarot.

SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , I don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits goes and the reading itself belong to me. I use the editor tools canva and ibispaint for the header and divider. If saved/downloaded the divider use a proper credits and tag/mention along my acc @tarotwithdanise.

© tarotwithdanise ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work in any other social media platforms.

PILE ONE

1. Your romance trope with them.

cards : ten of wands,the magician,ace of wands,knight of swords,six of cups,magnetism,freedom and proposal.

possible romantic tropes : childhood sweetheart, lady and a knight and friendship to lovers.

prompt : person a helping person b to work with themselves then turn out both of them fallen in love with each other.

Whoops, this romantic trope is like a lady or princess and knight, just take which part are you between the two. I don't know but this spread is giving me a book story of that trope, a knight and a lady and/or childhood sweetheart's. Since in the very beginning we got the 10oW, this card is talks about burden. Before meeting your future spouse (lover), you will experience a lot of stress, overload responsibilities and problems with your life and then boom in out blue this person appear in your life or you'll meet this person (knight of swords) in the midst of all these problems and stress situation. I do see here that you are not really into love? before you actually gonna meet this person because you set these goals in your mind that you have to work with yourself first and then this person shakes things up and suddenly you felt the butterflies in your stomach. This love story is like already written down by the stars and the universe is the one that is in charge to make it come true. It seems like with them, with their love or their presence you'll feel being freedom and away from your own problems. This person is like a daily dose of serotinin to you.

It's like you'll mirror each other's love and each other's personality even though some of your qualities doesn't match with them at all. Both of you will find each other's as attractive individual. With them, you will feel the freedom that you want for yourself because you might felt this burden since you were a child (ToW and SoC), as well being with them, you are able to pass any obstacles whether if it's big or small. With them by your side, you will be able to conquer all obstacles that may come on your way in lifetime. It may also mean that a big change is coming in your relationship life when you meet them and this shift may require some bravery and work on your part to push this connection through. You are about to set boundaries for yourself, accepting what is, and fighting for what you feel and what you deserve is the key to open this new door.

I see that the proposal with this person will be grand. With the magician card being present here, I can say that this is giving off the energy of Wattpad or Fairy tale stories, this is a life changing connection, the love story you ever wanted and dream of. But i understand if someone here doesn't agree with this kind of love story since no relationship is perfect, no relationship is perfect - so be careful to not be manipulated with this person and don't just fall easily under their spell and with their charisma, always listen to what is your intuition saying to you. However this is a whirlwind romance that feels like a fairy tale. That makes you scream ‘‘It's happening to me now and i am the main character and not just a reader or watcher’’. This is someone who usually smooth and charming and can totally sweeps your feet off. This is true magical romance trope that feels like fictional. If it hasn't to you yet, well soon it will. However as i said, no love story is perfect there's still times that this relationship will be tested by the Universe.

2. Their love language and how they'll express it.

Their love language is about quality of time, gift giving and words of affirmation . This couple is giving me a vibes of an old soul that always belonged to each other no matter how many times they being reincarnated in many lives. Your future spouse is gonna fulfill your desired when it comes to love and intimacy, they want you to feel complete when they're around. This person love language feels like more into emotional and physical support. And so, they will know their obligations when it comes to you. Probably they want to build a solid foundation with you, a long lasting marriage life is coming out here. They probably from a rich family, someone who considered rich in their country or in your country. With you, they usually gonna enjoy the life's pleasures - having good foods and drinks. They will teach you how to cherish every moment in life and enjoy it while living.

surprise and leave a small tip to your favorite tarot reader here.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

song from my shuffle playlist. ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

PILE TWO

1. Your romance trope with them

cards : seven of wands, four of wands, ten of swords, justice, nine of cups, fearless love, heart-to-heart conversation, last love.

possible romantic tropes : arranged marriage, blackmail things, fake relationship.

prompt : a two highschool students that develops likings into each other. Fell in love and out suddenly because of the responsibility and being too young. Redemption and spark going lit again, when they sees each other after a very long time.

There's a strong cardigan song vibes by Taylor Swift is outta here, especially the line where ‘‘you drew stars around my scars’’. It's feels like you two are too young for love and t get into the next level of commitment. I see here, a redemption of this love story. Falling apart to grow individually and then bringing back again to lit the love that have been started since they are young. Otherwise, if you already finished school you probably gonna break each other's heart. It will not be easy for the two of you. Other than that, I see an objections from family? They won't agree with this relationship. This is probably gonna hurt you so bad.

Your family or their family is probably thinking that this relationship is against the law? They just can't accept this connection and love that is growing between this two people. Maybe because you two have differences between each other and/or probably you two are belong to the same gender.

Typically challenges make this relationship go stronger and wilder. I see a strong interest with this two people. It's not just you and it's also them. If you are manifesting this type of person, there's like 70% that this probably might happen. You like to discuss your feelings, love and care with so much purity and truth with this person. You don't have to be afraid because this love is about taking a leap of faith, you will be tested about how you really love each other. In the end, this is your true love no matter how many hard phases you two will go through like a dramatic love story you might be watching online or in TV's.

2. Their love language and how they'll express it.

I only get gift giving and physical touch here. They probably buy you a lot of material things that you hold and cherished memories forever. Their small gifts makes you feel loved by them. They like to kiss you on your forehead and eyes, they think that's sweet and lovely. They're also type of people who will bought a flower on a store to give it to you in a special occasion. Their love language will make you as if you are their major priority in their life. If you are struggling with money, they probably gonna help you with that case.

surprise and leave a small tip to your favorite tarot reader here.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

song from my shuffle playlist. ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

PILE THREE

*For few people who were attracted to pile one, I'm here to remind you that you can read that as well.

cards : eight of pentacles, the magician, four of swords, page of pentacles, king of swords, ace of cups, responsibilities, falling in love, wedding.

possible romantic trope : enemies to lovers, love at first sight and arranged marriage.

prompt : it's a romantic suspense story about taking charge of the two people responsibilities.

There's a lot of hardwork with this two protagonist. Perhaps that there's a high chances that you and your partner might be an arranged marriage. The masculine energy here is the one who will sacrifice and do all the things to make this relationship work and to make this other person fall in love with them. They are the one who will offer the love to another person. They're the one who probably head offer heals ; love at first sight in general if I'm gonna describe it.

Even though you told this person to stop, they will work more harder. They don't want to stop, they want to be the one. This love story is belong with those type of stories you frequently sees on TV's, this is a life-changing love. This is a whirlwind romance like pile one. The one that will fulfill your cup with love and care you are longing for. Your future spouse (lover) is a dominant individual - they can be working in the field of law or writer. They might be good with the subject mathematics as well or anything related to math but I can't totally say that they'll a human calculator, this is probably type of person who is a fast learner.

With your married life, you two are very responsible. It's seems you are aware what you need to do or what job you should do with this marriage. There's so much respect and faithfulness with this two people which I really love.

2. Their love language and how they'll express it.

Their love language is quality of time and act of service. You two probably like to stargazing while lying down in a green grass or in a roof or walking in shore while holding hands, this is a beautiful moment (hope it you will totally experience this). Well, in your marriage life I do see here that the other person can't go to bed without the other person like they always go to bed at the same time. Also, you two like to massage each other's and they're probably the one that will get up first in bed to make you a breakfast. They will make/buy you, your favorite sweet treats.

surprise and leave a small tip to your favorite tarot reader here.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

song from my shuffle playlist. ♡

Made with love, Danise.

[snek-panini]

Books Books Books. The bind I have to share today is The Fabric of Your Hair by @saretton (I have to confess, I left a comment on Ao3 asking for binding permission back in April but I don't think I ever got a response, so I really hope it's ok that I went ahead, and to tag you like this.) This is another really excellent Good Omens human au, with really colorful sensual language. One of our faves is a hair stylist in this one, and the other is a tailor, which is where I got the idea to use dressmaker's forms on the front cover even if there are none in the fic. The cute printed paper came from I think Joanne's, and the sheets had these strange patches of random text and pink roses on them that I had to cut around to get a usable cover, but it was worth it. The spine and corners are brown lineco book cloth with silver metallic htv for the title. Overall it looks a little steampunk for a modern setting but I think it's adorable and I love it.

More photos under the cut!

A couple of images of the front and back endpapers. They're cardstock, and the little images were done with rubber stamps and gold embossing powder. I've only done this on one other book, as it's a challenge to find coordinating stamps that are the right size and shape and also a thematic fit for the story, but I love the idea and think it looks really good. It's like a surprise inside, especially when you turn to the back one and it's different.

I've just realized that I failed to take a photo of the top view on this book like I usually do, so you'll just have to trust me when I say it's got a narrow cream-colored ribbon for a bookmark that coordinates with the rest of the color palette. It's also got machine-made end bands because, while I would have loved to make custom ones, the book is only about 100 pages at legal quarto size, making it a little too skinny for those. The ones I used are an exact match for the brown book cloth though, so they look very nice.

Title page, with scissor image that I got for free from rawpixel, and first chapter header. I kept it pretty simple for the typeset, wanting to let the story speak for itself, and it was actually challenging to find free graphics that would fit the theme without veering even further into steampunk. Cool aesthetic, but absolutely not a fit for this story. I'm satisfied with the end result.

I tried a little something different with the page headers for this one, but it didn't entirely pan out. I printed them in gray so they'd fade a bit into the background, because the title is kind of long and I was worried it would dominate the page on a quarto book like this. It didn't work so well because my printer sucks at printing sharp lines when they're any color but black. So they do in fact fade, but to the point of being illegible on a couple of pages. Left example is a good print, right is a poor one. Oh well, lesson learned, and it doesn't actually interfere with reading so I left it.

And that's it for this one! I really like how the final book came together, more or less exactly as it was in my mind in spite of a fumble or two. I hope you like it too, saretton!

[bonesbuckleup]

Hi, random q. I saw in your tags that you swear by Scrivener for original fic. I’m still plugging away in ye olde Word and now I’m intrigued to know what about Scrivener you like so much. I’ve def heard about it but never used it, so I’m curious :)

YES I would love to tell you about my lord and savior software Scrivener. I hope you don't mind I published this long, long answer publicly.

So. The main issue I have with Word and Google Docs is that you hit a certain length/word count, and it starts to lag and load kind of jerkily. You know? Also, navigating chapter to chapter or scene to scene is awkward for me--you either have to have a whole bunch of individual documents and multiple windows open, or you have to use headers and the table of contents...which is fine for quickly finding chapters but less so for scenes within those chapters.

Messy, basically. Does not spark joy for me.

Enter Scrivener.

Now, before I evangelize a bit, I will say that Windows Scrivener and Mac Scrivener are not 100% created equal. They are both better, I think, than Word or Google docs, but the Mac version is a bit slicker and a little nicer to look at. I only say that for if you're using Windows, because if so my screencaps below won't exactly match what you see if/when you download the program.

ONWARD.

So, the #1 thing that Scrivener has over Word is that it's a one time fee, not a subscription. So while it is a little pricey (Just went and looked, $59.99 USD), it's only the one payment. All updates and such are covered and available as free downloads. I will also say that Scrivener gives you a 30 day free trial. That's not 30 consecutive days, but 30 days of use--if you only use it every other day, you'll have the trial for 60 days. They make it really easy to figure out if it's for you or not.

This is also going to feel like a lot, but there are built in tutorials and it's actually pretty intuitive, depending on how your brain works. Anyway! The basic gist of Scrivener is that it's a digital binder. You can keep all your book stuff in one place:

As you can see, there's the manuscript (aka my book), notes, research, more. Tbh, I mostly just use notes and Manuscript, but if it floats your boat, you can store maps, place names, worldbuilding, playlist links, moodboards, a whole ton of stuff, all in one menu that's easy to access and in a single window. You can organize it however itches your brain the best way.

But like I said, for me, the best is that Manuscript part, which I'm going to go into now. I use a three act structure for books (but break the big ol' middle act into two pieces because it makes my brain happy), so each act gets a folder.

When I click and expand that act, each chapter has it's own folder. However, it also shows quick-reference index cards, so I can have an at-a-glance at what's going down in each chapter. (I'm using a outline system called Save the Cat for this book, which is why all my chapters have titles like 'Catalyst', feel free to ignore those...I also have a very compact timeline, so to help me stay organized, I labeled each chapter with when it happens.)

You can do the same with each individual chapter and the scenes, where when you click on the chapter folder, each scene gets a card. If you don't type in a summary, it'll just auto-populate the start of whatever content you were writing. You can see this in the 'Copper's Candids NEW' card.

And, of course, it is writing software. When you click on the individual scene, it opens the blank document, and you can get cracking.

So. This system is nice for a few reasons. My favorite is that it makes navigating, reorganizing, and/or rewriting scenes extremely easy. It's just point and click, drag and drop. You can also open two docs in the same window at once, like this:

Which is a nice feature for several reasons--you can work on a new version of a scene with the old one pulled up next to it, or if there's something you wrote earlier or that comes later that's important to what you're working on now, you can have them both up for quick referencing.

Another slick thing is each doc has a notes section off to the right side of the screen--which is optional! I use it for future revision notes/descriptions of how I want the scene to go:

My other favorite part of Scrivener is that it makes it very easy to hoard your deleted scenes like a deranged dragon in case you want them later. My garbage looks like this:

There are SO MANY FILES hanging out in my trash, and you know what? I so rarely actually need them, but my god am I glad they're there on the rare occasion that I do. Word, again, can make it more difficult. I always had a massive 'cut' document that was longer than the actual project and again, awful to navigate. This just makes it easier.

Scrivener also makes it easy to compile the manuscript into other doc types--pdf, doc, docx, etc--for easy printing and sharing.

ANYWAY. I'm sure there are approximately 1 million other things I'm missing, but basically Scrivener takes all your book/long project bits, puts them in one centralized file, and makes it super easy to navigate. I've also found that outlining is easier, because I can just make the folders and scenes and drag them around while I noodle through the plot.

10/10, would recommend to any long-form writer. If you have any other questions, please let me know! If anyone has read this far and has a thing about Scrivener to add, please do! I love Scrivener, and a lot of my writing buddies love Scrivener, and it really kinda has revolutionized the way I write original fiction. I'm always happy to yell about how great it is.

[daryascurse]

𝙲𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙾𝚁

── Part II: Ferae Naturae

Coriolanus didn’t lunge at you. The tendons in his neck tightened, and his palm ground into the wall. But when the two of you collapsed into each other, the violence met at your mouths in a kiss harsher than the one shared the night before.

chapter pov : 2nd person, AFAB reader, feminine pronouns ❀ tags: hate sεx, semi-public, coitus interruptus, fingering, oraI, (female receiving), biting, teasing ❀ word count: ~4.2k ❀ ao3 ❀playlist

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

See header "Caveat Emptor" link for table of contents/ chapter 1.

a/n (dec. 14 2023): thank you sm to everyone for the support and encouragement!! asks/ posts related to this fic are tagged #caveatcoryo. popping in to share that i have finally seen the movie like halfway through writing this. I absolutely loved it but will still be sticking to more book-canon details, but I don’t think anything outright contradicts movie canon, so it’s fine. By the way, it’s pretty likely every chapter will have some kind of smut. Idk, it’s what I like to write.. just to clarify for people who don't like things 100% explicit all of the time that it shooould be expected here. (Also, I think I learned through this that I prefer writing Coryo POV, but, I think switching off makes sense for a fic like this so yeah.)

-

“…your valedictorian, Coriolanus Snow!”

You were sure he’d seen you. It was all suggestive; barely a hairline crack in his veneer before that golden halo dipped back down, but Coriolanus’ eyes had met yours when he looked up from the podium. He paused a moment, adjusting the microphone with a suddenly fixed concentration, before he leaned in to begin speaking. And he spoke well. The notes he had been shuffling say ever so conspicuously forgotten at the edge of the curved stone podium. You felt the slight strain in the small of your back as you straightened up, fixing your gaze straight ahead.

His hand had lingered at the stem of the microphone, and you watched his fingers as they unwound from it. Those fingers that had stroked the serpentine sash across your body and held you aching and open, how they drew your attention in pale daylight as Coriolanus swam them through the air in emphatic, perfectly-timed gestures. He was an undeniably good orator.

You shifted again in your seat, feeling the resonance of last night within you still. Barely last night – it had been just past three in the morning when you wrapped your coat around your frame and left the club. But despite rinsing and gargling, properly cleaning your teeth before bed and after rising, the side of your mouth still smacked with the taste of him. Shifting in your seat brought the sweet ache to your muscles, your thighs tense from the motions of riding over his thighs. You clenched your fingers in your lap, opened them, and closed fists again, as if wrapping around his shoulders once more.

Early that morning, dressing for graduation with sleep still coating your mind in static, you’d realized the tip of a nail had chipped sometime in the dark velvet room. You looked down for a moment at your fingers knit in your lap, remembering the flaw, before looking back up at Coriolanus again.

And how this graduation ceremony seemed like an inversion of last night– with you, gazing up at him on stage, while he performed in costume!

You could relax the muscles of your face into a slack, neutral expression, but you could not keep your gaze from fixing on him. Perhaps that had been the same concentration he’d had last night, unable to keep the hunger from his eyes as you slunk across the stage. It had been clear, from the moment you pushed back the curtain and shivered into position, that he hadn’t recognized you.

And that itself hadn’t been a surprise. Coriolanus Snow was wildly popular, but he chose to make and keep few friends. It had been a relief. If any classmate were to happen down those basement steps, pick your face from the catalog feed, and watch you step onto the stage, Coriolanus Snow would be the least likely one to recognize you. It still hadn’t felt particularly nice, though, to see anyone from University sitting in that leather chair. Especially the night before graduation, when you were so close to making it out unscathed.

The broken chip in your manicure was brittle when it brushed against your skin.

If anything about last night was a surprise, it was how good it was. That even as Coriolanus starved the pleasure from you, the ache for it drove harder, weakening your thighs and panting your breath.

You adjusted your seat again.

At the end of his speech, when the applause began sprinkling through the crowd to roll into a thunder, Coriolanus hesitated a moment longer at the podium. His eyes flitted across the group of students again, a honeybee’s tense flight that avoided your area like brambles. His hand was at his side, as if to dip into the pocket of the graduation gown, but he turned to scoop up his abandoned cards and tucked them inside before stepping down. Instead of clapping, you ran your hand over your nail’s broken groove.

When the ceremony was over, after you had stood in dutiful line, crossed the stage, tucked the diploma and graduation program under your arm, you made straight for the refreshments table at the back of the hall. The silk pantyhose, regrettably in fashion, itched as the net shifted across your sore thighs with each step; the clack of your heels irritatingly sharp on the polished stone. Valerius Yeoman, who’d been your partner in dialectic seminar, gave a half-salute and pained expression where he stood hanging his head in the shade as his parents and grandparents fussed over him, adjusting the sweep of his gown and smoothing his cap. You smiled in response, raising your eyebrows at his pallid visage as you hobbled to the coffee pitchers.

The school-provided coffee was bitter to the point of being sour, and the taste stuttered your grip around the thick ceramic mug seared with the University coat of arms. A half-mouthful slid from your lips to your chin. You quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand.

“Good morning.”

You turned at the measured tone.

It was half a shock that Coriolanus had found you. Not that it was strange he’d been milling around the reception hall with everyone else who hadn’t rushed off to celebratory brunch reservations. But this was confirmation that he had seen you, recognized you. Now, acknowledged you, even if privately. Maybe only because it was private. Like you, he didn’t seem to be enveloped in familial support at graduation. Even his friends, the ones you knew to be his friends, weren’t nearby. That beady eyed Livia Cardew who usually dragged at his elbow was nowhere to be found.

You gestured at him with the coffee mug.

“Wonderful speech, Coriolanus,” you said.

He smiled, but the rest of his face betrayed its insincerity. His nostrils tightened, flared, ever so slightly. His pretty face turned so ugly. The crack in the mask deepened.

“So, you knew who I was?”

Last night lingered in the air to finish the sentence, lashing off his tongue in a way he couldn’t afford to snap while graduates and guests still flowed in the hall.

“How could I not?” you said, and returned the coffee to your mouth to take another sip. The caffeine had begun to rattle through your veins, push at the side of your eyes, hasten your tongue. You couldn’t hold back a wide grin. “The golden boy, our University’s valedictorian, and they said, next Head Gamemaker. Congratulations.”

Another man would be humbled, perhaps feel the heat of embarrassment not to recognize someone in turn. But Coriolanus Snow rarely turned his head to the back of the classroom, always looking ahead. He looked visibly disconcerted at the way you identified him, threw every label back in his face.

“Do you remember me yet?”

Care to know my name now?

You put the coffee down on the reception table and slid the program from under your arm, turning the pages and folding the spine back. You anglde the thick creamy paper towards him and ran your finger down the list of graduating names, stopping, tapping, when you reached the smooth black cursive marking your own.

Coriolanus studied the page. Or stared at it.

“We had Dr. Campbell’s memoria class together last semester,” you said, and he nodded. His eyes were still tight as they slid back to your face.

You closed the program and slipped it back under your arm, where the roll of your diploma had begun to crush.

“So, what do you want?” Coriolanus asked before you barely had a chance to pick your coffee back up. You blinked at him over the edge of the mug. “Bit late to spread schoolyard gossip, but, what, did you think you could blackmail me?”

“Sorry, what do I want?”

His eyes were cold, his words were terse.

“You knew me. You admitted it. So what are you looking for?”

“No, it’s not what you think,” you said, and the light grin began to fade from your lips.

A cheer of his name drowned out your words. It came from a girl and her family walking by – Persephone something, you’d seen her around – and Coriolanus turned, almost automatically, to give a genteel wave. Through his teeth, he hissed, “Go.”

“Excuse me?”

You almost spilled the last of your coffee down the front of your gown when he gripped your forearm, steering your back to the hall.

“That way,” Coriolanus said, jerking his chin to the entrance, and you managed to put the mug down, your diploma and program slipping from below your elbow. The papers splashed across the marble floor.

“That’s my – hey.”

Coriolanus stepped with you, his hand firm, and a thrill spiked through you at the thought of whether or not he had strength he could apply to the grasp. Strength enough to bruise, to fracture. The previous night certainly suggested he could.

“I’ll scream,” you said, loudly enough to make the old woman rubbing a lipstick kiss off Bergenia Wolfe’s cheek tilt her head.

But his grip tightened, and he leaned in, his voice so low that only you could hear over the ambient noise of the hall.

“It won’t change the fact that we need to talk. And I’d prefer it be in private, especially if your voice keeps rising.”

That was fair.

“Fine. But keep your hands to yourself,” you said, and shook your wrist free. You could feel the warm press of his fingers still as the two of you ducked through the archway at the end of the hall. Graduation morning had left the campus empty of usual academic operations, and the first door he tried, jerking the laboratory-grown ivory handle down with such vigor it made a springing sound when he released it, opened into a cold, empty seminar classroom. You rubbed at your forearm under the sweeping graduation gown sleeve, looking up at the cameras at the front of the room. The University had introduced a new policy to cease providing classroom recordings that last year of school, claiming that it encouraged students to pay closer attention to lectures and not rely on the film whilst studying for final exams.

You squinted at the lens, untrusting, even without the telltale red recording light.

Coriolanus must have had the same thought, because he jerked his finger irritably to lead you forward into a corner just out of view of the lens. Away from any proof that the two of you were together.

“I’m asking,” he said again, with frustration etching his features, “what you could possibly think you can gain from this.”

Coriolanus Snow was a certainly a man of multitudes. You had wondered, last night, as you pressed into the carpet and made your way towards his waiting boots, if that was the real him. If stripping aside the anemic University smile warped those lips into a stone-cold smirk, the point of his foot swaying on his heel as if he were tempted to flatten you below his sole, a woman whose time and body he had bought. Or, the earnestness you vaguely remembered from his televised introduction to the nation at those lost Games years ago – if that lust for life was real. But perhaps this was it, this was Coriolanus Snow, superior scleral show gleaming with barely-bridled rage, with his hand still forming a cage as he pressed into the wall besides you to keep you like a fox in the corner.

“What ‘this?’” you asked, and tried to keep the belligerence from creasing your face as well. “I swear. I only just knew who you were, your reputation here. That’s all.”

“And you think you can blemish my reputation by telling people you saw me at the whorehouse.”

“We – you just saw me, once -”

“There is no ‘we.’ Let’s be perfectly clear on that.”

“Fine,” you said, putting your hands up in a mock surrender. “Fine. Trust me, Coriolanus, I have no interest in getting anything from you, holding last night over your head, anything.”

His nostrils flared at that.

“Really,” you said. Your teeth gnashed with the heat of the word.

“Oh, really?” Coriolanus snapped, almost echoing your tone.

You wavered. Just a moment.  

Maybe this was quid pro quo.

“I’ll tell you,” you said, quickly, burning the words from your tongue as they left. “If it convinces you that I’m not trying to blackmail you, if last night is so serious a secret that you’re seeing shadows, I’ll tell you my secret. It was my last night because I don’t need the money anymore. Every bit went to cover my tuition, because I’ve needed it. Some of us haven’t been so lucky to lick from silver spoons our whole lives. So now you know my shame, and you can trust me to keep yours.”

You practically spat the word at him. At Coriolanus Snow, the adopted scion of the Plinths, son of the Snow dynasty itself; who had taken his leisurely choice to spend unmerited riches on a whore’s company in a thinly-cloaked room, and had the audacity to be furious with her for it.

“And I’m sorry,” you heard yourself continuing, wildly, “for tainting graduation for you with the inconvenience of my presence. But seems you had a fine morning anyway. Looks like you had a perfect day even if my eye contact happened to startle you. Your valedictorian speech went well, you’ve secured a job, and Livia Cardew has the pleasure of returning to your penthouse. She’s probably looking for you, waiting for you now -”

Coriolanus didn’t lunge at you. The tendons in his neck tightened, and his palm ground into the wall. But when the two of you collapsed into each other, the violence met at your mouths in a kiss harsher than the one shared the night before.

His knee slotted perfectly between your legs, the sweeping expanses of gown encasing your bodies like fine satin sheets. Your hands, still raised in that tableau of defense, were caught uselessly between your bodies as you leaned forward and pressed your chest against him. Coriolanus kissed you hard, with his own hold gripping your shoulders, your upper arms, with more strength than had fanned his furious grasp of your wrist. He tasted the same as he had last night, the bitter wind of coffee ghosting over both of your tongues with the same desperate touch as your thighs pressing against each other.

You turned your head for a gasp of breath, head dizzy, the anger ebbing into a more primal form of passion, and Coriolanus took the motion in stride. He moved his lips down to the juncture of your neck, drawing sinful, light pictures with his tongue before his mouth closed on the sensitive silk of skin over your collarbone, right where the graduation gown dove to a demure v-shape. You inhaled second breaths back in at the sharp suction.

“Ouch,” you gasped again.

And then – “please,” you heard yourself add even as your hips shifted forward against his, “don’t leave marks.”

Coriolanus made a humming sound, voice trapped against your collarbone.

“Why? Do you need to stay in perfect condition to sell your body to another man?”

Under other circumstances, more rational responses would have stuttered to your mind: I don’t want any questions. Love bites are just so juvenile. I told you, I quit. I told you, last night was the last night. I told you to trust me.

“Fuck you.”

He straightened up and cupped your jaw, turning your face back and forth to look at you, your bright eyes, your hot cheeks. The window was to his back, his face clouded in harsh contours of the shadow, but his teeth were wet. “That’s not what you said last night.”

You drew your lips back as much as possible. “That’s not what you paid me to say. It’s a little too late to return your purchase,” you said, with less punch than you would have liked.

Coriolanus smiled, terribly, blonde curls falling over his forehead. “Well, I never said you weren’t good at your work.”

He let go of your face. You grabbed his gown in fistfuls of fabric against his chest, ignoring the snag of thread against the chip in your nail. You pulled him closer to kiss him again with a shuddering sigh, to gather his bottom lip between your teeth and bite. The groan that came from you was more like a growl. And Coriolanus’ hands busied to pluck at your waist, gathering the fabric and pulling it higher, his yanks sharper with the pressure of your teeth against him. Your heels tottered on the floor.

“No marks.”

“What about where no one can see?” Coriolanus whispered back, the words cutting between kisses. He had hitched your gown high, your knees exposed and skin uncomfortably warm beneath the cling of your nylons.

Where no one – oh – you thought, just for a moment before he was down on his knees. He lifted the skirt of your gown and you caught it in an instinctive reflex, raising it high and bunching the fabric in desperate clutches as he skimmed his hands over your legs. You sucked in a breath at the friction of skin so nearly almost against skin, the nylon somehow feeling rough and exfoliating under his touch. Coriolanus ripped it between nimble fingers, right at the rise of your thighs, and you gasped. Your feet tottered again, wider, opening for him.

“Maybe,” Coriolanus breathed, his breath hot against your skin, his tongue sliding along the edge of his teeth, “we should have blocked the door.”

“Do you think that’s a problem?”

Your fingertips were trembling, your palms sliding with sweat against the gown.

“Suppose we’ll find out,” Coriolanus said, half-mindless as two fingers tugged at the fabric of your panties, the elastic snapping when he let go. “Or else someone will see me marking you up.”

The words burrowed under your skin, flames at the side of your face, and you ground your teeth together. He kissed your thigh, bottom teeth raking against your skin, and then they dragged across the expanse of your body as his fingers shred more nylon away. He bit you, a flashing pinch of pain, before his lips curved to create a vacuum for his tongue to sooth, wash away the sharpness in a coy play. Then the suction came again, with a smacking of his lips louder than the teasing over your collarbone.

You yelped animalistically, almost dropping your gown as he did it again on your other leg. Your skin smarted.

“Oh-”

“Mmm.”

There was no warning before Coriolanus had pulled your panties to the side again, his tongue pressed flat at the seam of your cunt and a low moan rising from his throat. It reverberated into you, split you, as his tongue dragged up.

“Oh – fuck -”

Coriolanus’s lips curved off your hot skin long enough to give a hissing shush of warning, and you turned your hands tightly in the bunches of fabric.

One hand came up, thumb smearing over your hip and popping another run in the nylon fabric, and Coriolanus pressed at your lower back until your hips canted forward. You were arching for him, feet weak in your heels and pussy exposed, open, to meet his mouth.

“It- fuck – feels good,” you whispered feverishly.

His other hand was open and pushing at your thigh, making room for his face. His thumb was hooked around your panties in a way that made the waistband cut into your hip. His spread fingers were wide over your thigh, and he tensed at the plumpness of curved skin. His fingernails just barely pricked, claws on your leg as he slid his tongue between your folds. Coriolanus rolled his tongue right over your clit, breaths murmuring into you quicker, and quicker. He began to move his tongue in darting lashes and coated your sensitivity in his saliva. You twisted your hips as much as you could between the hold of his hands, almost bucking into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

Coriolanus’s head tilted back, and you clutched at the gown in a weird, frenzied anticipation of another scolding.

But instead he ran his hand back down, away from your back. You still pushed back against the wall as his fingers wound over the thigh that locked your knee straight, leg firm to the ground. Coriolanus teased at your folds with these fingers now, and you shook, waiting in agony for him to sink them inside you.

“You’re dripping,” he whispered, so low you almost didn’t hear him over the sound of your own breath in your ear. “So wet and so empty.”

You whined in your throat.

“Bet you’d feel so warm,” Coriolanus breathed.

“Please,” you said, and you’d said it without thinking.

“Please – what?”

You breathed through parted lips, watching his own close briefly and open again – swollen, blooming with furious kisses and bites.

“You know what,” you said, and gnashed your teeth.

Coriolanus let your panties slip out of the hook of his grasp, snapping against your skin. You squirmed. His teeth split again in that grin, gleaming eyes winking up at you.

“And you know what I want to hear,” he said.

But you didn’t pay for it this time, you thought, but you still said it:

“Please touch me.”

His thumbs were busy and nimble, and you couldn’t see what he did when he ducked his head back under your skirt; but there was the flash of devious smile against the angelic blonde hair and there was a whisper of response – “good girl.”

You moaned, and he was hungry.

It felt like he had turned his head, his nose burying against you as he yanked your panties away again with a vigor. He pumped his fingers in and out in steady rhythm, building speed as your hips began to shake in response. You rocked into Coriolanus’s mouth, riding his face as he licked over you and fucked you with his fingers.

“Oh, oh…”

He sucked your clit, every nerve on fire and the smooth walls around his fingers wet and tight and gently opening, weakening, with each coaxing touch. You had to concentrate on the fists of fabric in your hand to keep the gown from dropping, from getting in his way, but all your muscles ached to do was convulse, to claw for him, to pull him closer. Coriolanus built speed, as if the touch of his fingers were attuned to the miniscule way you clenched and pulse. There was the panting of breath, the wetness of skin, the ravenous, beastly groans coming from two throats. Something was close. Something was getting closer, and close, and you let your eyes fall closed.

“Coriolanus…”

Your name broke through the room suddenly, shrill, on the intercom, and your eyes sprang open in horror. Coriolanus froze, and your hands clapped over your mouth to hold back a scream. He jerked his face away, harshly, and you sank to the floor in turn, letting your graduation gown balloon over your trembling legs and weakened ankles. Coriolanus fell back on his heels, looking up at the speakers in the corner as it came again.

“If you are still on University premises,” the dry voice continued, “your diploma has been recovered from the Main Hall and can be collected from the administrative offices.”

The fucking diploma.

You covered your face in your fingers, and exhaled sharply. Your thighs felt heavy, hot, sweat trapped against ripped strands of nylon webbing across your legs. From between the knit of your fingers you could see Coriolanus slowly heave to his feet, a visible straining in his pants before he smoothed his gown to stand.

Something had shifted in the room. It had shifted from the first kiss. It was only now that you could feel it.

You lowered your fingers, dragging them across your cheeks. The side of your chipped nail cut across your skin.

Coriolanus looked down on you, an animal cowering in a cage of your own making, his chest rising with the same speed that hurtled through your veins. He lifted a hand, smoothed the side of his hair.

Looking up at him, you felt something else in the air shift in an uneasy way.

“I should go get my diploma,” you said.

He glanced up at the camera, still facing the rest of the room away from the privacy of your corner.

“I’ll leave first,” he said. “They’ll be looking for me.”

His words were shaking, but his tone was cold again. His friends, likely; his family, his lover. You turned your face away.

“Yeah. I can wait a minute after you.”

“Count to ninety,” he said, and his voice was fast, as if he were already thinking of something else.

Before the sound of Coriolanus’ footfall echoed through the room, there was the sound of something else – rustling, and something falling to the ground. You looked up, at the stiff retreat of his back as he strode quickly from the room, his reach for the door, and the way his shoulders slipped through the gap. When it slammed, you turned your flushed face down to the floor, the place where you had clawed your cheek beating hotter.

He had flung money at your feet.

Part III: Sui Juris

[morgenlich]

was talking some with @yandereleorio earlier about what a good reading/book tracking setup would look like for adults, and wasn't 100% satisfied with anything i saw so i decided to come up with a rough mockup of my own.

left page: a place to input the title, author, publishing year (we both read a lot of non fiction, especially history, when we do read lol so it felt like a good thing to add), and total page number. below that, a calendar where you can color in the circles for each day you read if you want to, and then what number of pages out of the total you read that week. bottom right has a place to write out the total you read that month. very bottom of the page has an empty bar to possibly serve as a more visual percentage tracker, if that appeals to you; if not you could totally just omit it.

right page: five empty stars that you can fill in to rate the book goodreads style, if you're so inclined. the rest of the page is lined, under the header "THOUGHTS," so you can write a review or use it to take notes as you read. if you wanted to keep track of the start and/or end date of the reading, you could totally add that here as well.

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2023: Day 1 - Free Day

Preservation on Sodor:

Sodor must be one of the most interesting places to look at when it comes to railway preservation, if not also road, sea and air preservation. For starters, the island’s railways are all still primarily run by vintage steam traction – but there’s also Harold, who is in his 60s or 70s at this point, Bertie the bus (who is nearing 100), Trevor and Terrence and George – not to mention the fact that the island seems to continue to have antique ships within its waters, including steam ships and fishing trawlers.

But of course, I want to focus on the railways – and in particular how Sodor must be the British hub for heritage railways, museums and other attractions. For starters, Sodor has by far the largest heritage railway system in the world for its size, with over 80 miles of mainline, several branchlines, a narrow-gauge railway, a mountain railway and a miniature gauge railway. It also has a massive fleet of engines – 80 by the Reverend’s count on the NWR alone – making it possibly the single largest working heritage railway in the UK, if not Europe. This would instantly attract many preservationists wishing to run their locomotives, meaning that mainline excursions and visitors would be a frequent sight on the island. This in turn would bring in tourists, who would make money for the NWR and the railway the engines belong to, as well as helping the Fat Controller if one of his enignes is unable to work. It would also give us as railfans the chance to see unique motive power on a variety of trains - like a Coronation Class pulling a slow goods, or a Hughes Crab on a China Clay train - things we don't get to see anymore. 

Furthermore, Sodor is home to Crovan’s Gate Works, the largest steamworks of its kind in Britain. For its influence, I am going to turn to 60163 Tornado. When Tornado was built, her boiler had to be manufactured in Germany because there was just no one in the UK able to produce a boiler of the type, while the superheater header needed to be attempted by three foundries before it was assembled correctly. Crovan’s Gate Works, which is able to maintain a full fleet of engines including Gordon – who is also an A1 with many similarities – would have been able to do both in a far timelier manner. The same would go for all locomotive repair programs in the UK. Crovan’s Gate would either host locomotives or manufacture parts for them, becoming a hub for preservation across the country. Engines like Stepney or Green Arrow would be able to be overhauled at the Works, rather than be taken out of service. This would effect how many steam engines are in working order in Britain, if not Europe, as the refurbishment time would be significantly shortened - something that is compounded if said locomotive shares any components with a Sodor engine - like Talyllyn, Dolgoch, Flying Scotsman or any of the Black 5s, Panniers or Autotanks in preservation. 

This brings me on to the last point: International Tourism. Sodor must be one of the most visited locations in Britain in this universe. For starters, there’s all the fans of the book and TV series (which are both canon and referenced in the books). This means that Sodor would have tens of thousands of families coming to the island from around the world annually to see the ‘Eight Famous Engines’ or the ‘Steam Team’, bringing in a massive amount of revenue for hotels, local businesses and the railways themselves. But there would also be the railfans who come with the aforementioned railtours, as well as international railfans who want to see steam in action in a mainline setting – something nearly impossible anywhere on the planet. Sodor has at least one airport (and probably two, considering in real life there is an airport on Walney Island near the real-life Vickerstown), six ports connected to the NWR, and a rail and road link to the UK. The island has the infrastructure to handle the flocks of tourists, and this would in turn benefit much of the rest of Northern England. This would majorly benefit the preservation world by bringing in funding for Sodor, which is in turn able to fund things like track upgrades, or overhauls for engines beyond their own railway. It also gives other railways a good place to promote themselves, as Sodor has a guaranteed market for tourists who may travel to these other railways. 

You cannot understate how much these books have done for Sodor, and for railway preservation as a whole.

So, Sodor is at the very least a centre for preservation in the UK, with railtours, overhauls and masses of international tourists – but it’s also where a lot of engines were likely rescued from. We see it in Oliver and Douglas, but engines know of Sodor and its safety. I can imagine an alternate universe in which engines keep turning up throughout the 1960s, being brought to safety on Sodor and then sold to heritage railways, being overhauled at Crovan’s Gate before moving to their new homes. Sodor would act as an intermediate in this era, being able to do the paperwork to preserve engines due to its position in the national network while also being aligned with the cause of the heritage railways. Sodor is a safe haven for steam, and this would have a significant impact on its position as a preservation hub for the UK.

Back to the Master Post

[copperbadge]

Well, I bit the bullet and bought 100 ISBNs. 

Put very simply, an ISBN is a serial number that allows bookstores and libraries to enter your book into their systems easily. As a self-publisher, I have to either publish without one, sell some rights to the printer in return for a free ISBN, or buy one myself, and I prefer to handle my own business. In the US, you have to purchase them from Bowker, who sells them in packs of 1, 10, or 100. 

Buying 100 ISBNs costs, roughly, twice the price of buying two 10-packs. Sort of a “Buy 20, get 80 free” deal, which is great, though it’s a bit Sam Vimes Boots Theory in that you have to have $575 to spend on 100 ISBNs. 

Still, you need two ISBNs per book at least (one for the paperback, one for the ebook) so as long as I thought I was going to write 10 more books in my lifetime and use up 20 ISBNs, it was worth the cost. 

In 2022, when I finished writing Fete and bought 10 to start with so I’d have two for Fete, I thought, I might not use all of these up, but it’s still a good deal. Then I wrote two more books last year, requiring nine ISBNs total (two per book plus three for the omnibus). I won’t lie, I’ve been concerned what it might do to my output to know I have 100 more to burn, but this is my idea of living dangerously. A mid-life crisis usually costs a lot more than $575. 

Anyway, I can now identify so many books. Just gotta write them. 

[ID: A screencap of the Bowker Identifier Services website, which welcomes me, Sam Starbuck of Extribulum Press, back to the site. Below the header are several menu options, and an “ISBN dashboard” informing me that I have 110 ISBNs in total.]

[olderthannetfic]

This is completely 100% my issue but it annoys me when people clutter their tags on AO3 with a bunch of jokes and entire sentences. I know I'm lazy but I don't wanna read an entire paragraph of tags. I might add one joke to my tags but never more than that. I want tags to be a clear and concise indicator of what's in the fic - if they're not that's the author's choice & it's not immoral or whatever but I'm gonna scroll right past the fic as my eyes glaze over. Again, I know it's just that I'm too lazy to read the tags, but ughhh

--

Nah, that's not laziness. Tags should be easy to read like a nice book blurb. A chatty tag or two at the end is fine if they aren't a paragraph long. Too many is an aesthetic mess.

Writing good headers is an art, and most people do "suck at summaries" and all the rest of it.

[hearthown]

Breaking Down My Header Image!

Tbh, I just randomly found and used this pic as my header but I actually found some similarities with the series so here we go!

Cowboy hat - Nash Hawthorne 🤠

Maps and a compass - Avery's dream was to travel the world and Grayson did lots of travelling for the Hawthorne foundation

Magnifying glass - Jameson pays attention to all the details and his laser focus can be said to resemble a magnifying glass – no clue can escape him

Journal and pen - Grayson 100% and also Xander! It can represent the many ideas for contraptions and inventions that he has <3

Wallet and money - okay I don't think we need to say anything about this :P

Leather shoes - Grayson Hawthorne and literally any formal event that happens (galas, balls)

Photographs - More Grayson 😭

Watch - Stopwatches are very common on the front covers of the books!

Super random post :P

[three--rings]

Finally time to reveal the book I made for @nagisachan1, who very generously donated to @fandomtrumpshate in their Craft Bazaar to receive a copy of Come and Go by charactershoes.

Long design and making-of blather under the cut.

Alright let's talk about the design process. The fic is a Dear Evan Hanson fic, which is a fandom I'm only passingly familiar with, but after reading it, I 100% understand why it would be meaningful to someone. It's really a fantastic story.

I initially asked Nagisachan for theme/design ideas and they mentioned trees and a bouncing pink superball. And yeah, once I read the fic, trees, leaves, and the bouncing ball remain the biggest images of it. So I began looking for images to use and decided I wanted to evoke a hand-drawn/doodle style, which felt really appropriate to the high school setting. So all the chapter headings feature different doodles, hopefully relevant to that chapter in some way (or, if I was at a loss, I defaulted to trees and leaves.)

The bouncing ball is tied to one character so I edited a drawing I found so that the ball's bouncing progresses in the header of each chapter that character appears in.

I also chose fonts/Drop caps that evoked the hand-drawn and tree imagery. Overall I'm VERY happy with the typeset after all the work I put into it.

On to the case. I originally planned to build a case evoking a tree, with a brown spine and green covers, and ordered two Japanese textured bookcloths. I intended to draw tree branches and leaves with my heat foil quill pen, as well as doing the titling.

However, I found that this textured and part poly cloth didn't take the foil very well. My first attempt at a tree was pretty messed up and when I tried to add leaves in gold foil, it only made it look worse.

So I started over. I used solid green for the whole case because the two-color design wasn't working the way I wanted. And I decided to keep the decoration as simple as possible by just outlining the tree branches in foil. It doesn't show very much anymore, and definitely not in the photos, but the tree outline is foiled in an orange holographic foil. Once I had the outline done, I at first considered myself done, but later decided I wasn't satisfied with just the outline.

So I tested several colors of paint and went with a metallic brown acrylic and handpainted in the tree. I'm not sure about the final effect, but I think given my material constraints it's not bad. The titling on the spine I did in gold foil, which is my best quality foil, but even so it's not as clean as it would be on different material.

So anyway, that's my making-of ramble. Thank you again @nagisachan1 for your donation to Never Again Action.

I definitely want to do this again for charity, but I'm not sure exactly when. Perhaps not until next year's FTH.

[tarotwithdanise]

WHAT DO OTHER PEOPLE FIND INCREDIBLY HOT ABOUT YOU?🩷🪻

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ how to choose pile? ✧ . ˚

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

PILE ONE PILE TWO PILE THREE

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

[ 1. ] just a quick disclaimer : this reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn’t, you don’t need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn’t resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious! i don’t own any these pictures i collected them from pinterest so credits to the rightful owners.

[ 2. ] please ignore any grammatical errors on my reading since english is not my first language, thank you for understanding!

[ 3. ] third to the last one, if you are not an avid fan of this kind of readings and not totally 100% agree about the outcome of this pac please just ignore this post and don’t engaged anymore. however, we have different type of being hot, it's not all about being sexy or having muscles and abs.

[ 4. ] lastly, be happy and enjoy reading my works — feedbacks, comments, likes, reblogs and follows are really appreciated by the reader. (that’s me, lol :3)

for tips, donation, masterlist and paid readings ☆

TIPS JAR🫙 DONATION BOX📦

PAID READING SERVICES🩷 MASTERLIST🪻

[ ♡ ] check out my second account @danisetarot.

SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : all of the pictures are collected and downloaded from twice instagram account, i don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owner however edits goes and belong to yours truly. i use the editor tool ibispaint for the header, divider and piles pictures.

color code : #BC728D

sizes : piles pictures 768x768 | dividers 4096x50 | header 4096x550

(?) deck used : the light seer's tarot.

PILE ONE

You felt overburdened and muted from your past and now you are trying and learning to stand and speak up for yourself and for others whom you think reticent to themselves. In your past you are a people pleaser and tend to say 'yes' at everything they wanted you to be, you'd finally realized that we only live once so, you think what you can do and what is good for yourself because you think in this lifetime that the only matters is only you and not how do others perceive you, you are doing this in a healthy and good way. You are seeing the light while you walking through your own path now. The pressure that your past given to you makes you who you are today where people find amazingly about you. With the ace of swords, I think you wanted to widened your throat chakra more, where you will able to communicate and speak well to other people.

You may good at least in choosing right words when communicating to other's and if not, in singing! You are aiming to speak up for yourself and loved ones with the truth and holding it as if it's already possession into your inner voice. I see people find incredibly hot about the most is the quality of you being so intellectual individual, you are this type of person who can truthfully says "don't judge a book by it's cover", you wanted to study, read and get to know more about that specific book before giving and leaving your judgement, i mean sometimes you can kept this principle of yours frequently but you tend to tried your best to atleast have that inside your mind. I also think that there's someone here that always saying to you that you are intellectual but yet you don't even believe to them, you are doubting this capability of yours but you know inside yourself, you can do everything and you know you are creative and talented person.

Somehow, you vision all of this. You already have a clue about this, you are continuously completing your healing and improvement. You are making a progress now, expect a reward coming at your way throughout this journey. Overall, people find incredibly hot about you is that you are intelligent, creative, brave and talented.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

PILE TWO

People who chose this pile are jolly where if they'll enter a dark room, you are the light and center of attraction there. You liked to show this traits of yours, where you are very childish and happy to others but somehow they're curious to know you, they found you incredibly mysterious and sometimes may act as a cold person perhaps you have this jolly side that you always show to others. This mysterious side of yours where these people often notice about you is the most attractive part of you. They're curious to know you more and maybe you are very private individual, which makes their curiosity to activate and somehow check and stalk your socials and backgrounds. They wanted to know you more but you tend to cut them off of what they can get know about you.

Well, i can't blame you though, you have a high intuition and tend to know what is their intentions and want to you and maybe you have a psychic abilities. I also see here that you are kind, generous and gentle but somehow you may have or might experiencing sadness. It's also hard for you to trust others, it make a lot of time to trust and rely yourself to others so you tend to always make it alone or all by yourself. I also think that you have a long curly hair regardless in what gender you are.

Furthermore about you is that you are fond and big fan of galaxies, stars, planets, forest and night so it makes also sense that you might be an astrologer. This last part may not resonate with everyone but for some, you might have a new buy crystals or new collection of crystal and decks.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

PILE THREE

Okay, people find incredibly hot about you is that you are very sexy and attractive. You have a lot of admirers pile three, I also think that you like to wear the color of red and black which makes you stand out with your circle. You are very friendly, you have a big social circle; a social butterfly indeed. I also see here that you've the prettiest smile or eyes. You value your family, you are someone who is a family oriented. If you literally have a current they see you as husband or wife material or if you are single, you consider yourself as husband/wife material.

I also here that you have a problem right now where you wanted to tell and discuss with others but fear and insecurity comes in. I think you are perfectionist individual. Some of this people fantasties you being tied on their bed or you might into BDSM kind of things. Are you good at dancing? Maybe this is one of the reason why people find you attractive. You are very confident about your talent. While, if you love kids like hanging out with them, playing with them. They find this cute and lovely about you.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

© daninixx ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work.