#the image and colours are just gorgeous

[dontbesoevil]

Arcane, season 2, episode 6

[chalkrub]

attack for @plaiesancier !

[cuddlytogas]

So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.

See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.

But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...

What is the difference between this and this?

Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?

Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.

But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.

And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.

But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.

See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!

As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.

And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:

So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?

Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.

In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.

In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.

This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).

Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.

More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.

This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.

A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.

But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.

[sysig]

Dance, fucker, dance (Patreon)

[shinonota]

Staying as cinema

[falderaletcetera]

IT'S THE OWL PEOPLE SIREN POEM @TOADLETT

(art by toadlett)

[reignpage]

Best Roommate Ever!

Summary: your sweet roommate, Choso, is not who he seems Word Count: 1k Warnings: smut, dubcon, perv!choso, manipulation, coercion, handjob, cursing, nonconsensual picture taking, pillow fucking, ooc, dark themes, fem!reader, not proofread

Roommate!Choso is a blessing — he’s the cleanest person you’ve ever met, he’s sweet and kind, doesn’t bring over loud guests, and never fights you for the remote. He makes soup when you're sick, helps with the chores, and gets along great with you.

Pervy roommate!Choso waits until you leave for your job to walk into your room and jump onto your bed, inhaling your scent from the pillows. He buries his face in it, gripping the soft material as he grinds into your mattress, overwhelmed by your smell and the images of you writhing in bed the way he is.

Roommate!Choso does the laundry and never complains. He separates the whites from the colours, doesn’t cheap out on laundry detergent and fabric softener. Hell, what kind of guy uses fabric softener? 

Pervy roommate!Choso  loves to do the laundry because he gets to see what you’ve been wearing under all those tight jeans, see what colours you gravitate towards, and know whether you’ve touched yourself at all the past week.

You had just come out of the shower, and he was knocking on the door, talking about how the laundry needs to be done immediately. Truthfully, he just wanted to pocket the flimsy material at the top of the pile and press the still wet gusset to his nose. 

Pervy roommate!Choso groans, free hand shoved into his sweats, soothing the throbbing of his cock by squeezing the base the way he thinks you would, firm and teasing. He loves the way your pussy smells and oh god he wishes he could smell it from the source, but he’ll settle for tonguing the wet spot, eyes rolling back at the taste of you. 

Roommate!Choso laughs when you can’t find your favourite thongs, claiming the washing machine eats up things like all his socks, and doesn’t dare say it’s actually in his pocket right now. 

Pervy roommate!Choso sneaks into your room when you’re asleep, eyes roving over the shorts riding up your ass, and the way your big shirt is bunched up right under your tits. 

He snaps a pic of the curves of your ass, lifting the hem slightly so more of your plump cheek is on show. Your skin is soft, and he just can’t help himself; he smooths a hand over your thigh, thumb pressing to watch the flesh bounce and ripple.

And then he’s moving upwards, careful fingers pushing the shirt up and over your tits, unrestrained and gorgeous in the moonlight streaming through the curtains. 

Pervy roommate!Choso sucks a finger, skin absorbing the warmth of his mouth before he’s skimming your nipple, poking the stiffening bud. Kneeling, he takes a risk, heart beating abnormally fast as he keeps an eye out on your face. Any flicker of consciousness and he’ll disappear back into his room. 

He sticks a tongue out, the tip jutting just a little so he can poke at your nipple. His eyes roll back at the knowledge of how wrong it is and then he’s throwing caution to the wind and wrapping his lips around it, sucking hard before you groan. 

When you wake up, you’re confused as to why your shirt is almost choking you and your nipple is oddly sensitive. 

And wet?

Roommate!Choso decides he needs more, that he can’t stand the sneaking around. He needs you, needs to feel your willing touch. But there’s no way he can risk putting his heart on the sleeve and be rejected, because then he’ll lose you. 

Pervy roommate!Choso calls you into his room, claiming his pelvis is sore. You suggest taking him to the hospital, but he blushes, it’s too embarrassing. So, you take pity on your poor roommate and offer to massage it for him. 

A small smile crawls on his face and as soon as a yes leaves your mouth, he’s shoving his sweats down with more vigour than he would have liked.  You don’t notice. Rubbing your hands together, you blow warmth between them before pressing your fingers to his upper thighs and his lower abdomen. 

You’re touching everywhere but where he wants you to, poking and prodding to ease a soreness that doesn't exist. 

Pervy roommate!Choso groans. The ache has moved upwards to his dick. How humiliating. But you don’t mind, do you?

Wrapping your hand around his base, you look up at him with those wide innocent eyes he loves so much and ask if it’s okay, if he’s feeling better, and oh, is he ever?

You jerk him off exactly how he imagined, thumb brushing across his slit and using his cum to smooth the descent. He cums all over your hands, back arching and your name on his tongue.

Roommate!Choso loves movies nights with you! He loves when you snuggle up right next to him, resting your head on his shoulder and sharing a bowl of popcorn. It’s so much fun to critique cheesy dialogue with you. 

Pervy roommate!Choso loves movie nights for another reason; you fall asleep after the second movie like clockwork, hand buried in the popcorn. He scoots the bowl away very carefully, watching your hand fall limp onto his crotch. 

He presses it down harder with his own, hips rutting upwards to chase that pressure and turn it into pleasure. He can’t cum like this, it isn’t enough, but he can if he manages to tuck that hand under his pyjama bottoms, using the oil from the popcorn as lubricant, UTI be damned. 

When you wake up and he’s wiping your hands clean, he chastises you for dozing off without washing up. And you thank him for being so sweet and thoughtful, assuming the flush of his cheeks is from the compliment and not the rapid beat of his heart from being almost caught. 

Pervy roommate!Choso steals your pillows whilst you’re out with friends, he ties them together with rope, taping pictures of parts of your sleeping body onto his creation. 

He rams his throbbing dick inside, cursing the fact that it’s not tight enough but it’ll have to do. He pictures the way your tits would bounce as he pounds into you, the way your pussy would gush around his cock, forming a creamy white ring, and if he closes his eyes, he can hear your moans, can hear you cry out for more. 

Pervy roommate!Choso envisions your sloppy cunt clenching down on him as you cum at the same time he squirts inside, biting his lip to stifle his whimpers. 

The pillow covers are ripped up from his death grip, drying stains of his guilt soaking into the cotton.

Thankfully, you don’t question why he’s bought you brand new pillows, instead giving him a hug for the gift.

He’s just such a great roommate!

[iid-smile]

content — ex!gojo satoru x fem!mother!reader, you and gojo have a son, gojo lives separately from the reader, mentions of breaking up on a bad note

a/n — baby fever was extreme and i just wanted to write a little something, so this might be messy and rushed! honestly u might get a bit mixed up with the pronouns, because i surely did

ex!boyfriend satoru visits you just a few days after your pregnancy. if he could've came during the delivery, he really would've, but the timing was unlucky with him being on a business trip.

he looks a little sheepish as he walks through the front door. one, because the two of you haven't had a rational conversation in an embarrassingly long while. and two, this would be his first time handling a baby. a newborn baby. the maximum he's handled is somewhere around six... six years old. it's not like the world is going to explode, but cut him some slack.

he doesn't exactly know what he was expecting, but hearing that his son has been sleeping all day already had nervous giggles erupting inside of him. coping mechanism? maybe. actually, he was just like that when he was a baby too, always resting peacefully and never making a fuss. that didn't seem to age too well, though.

finally, you introduce mini gojo to him, held carefully in your arms after taking him out from his crib. satoru knows he has strong genes, considering his clan has had the signature 'white hair, blue eyes' for how long, but the sight in front of him was surely surprising. half of his son's hair was your colour, and the other side was his. it's gorgeous. he's almost glad that the tradition was broken, starting with his son too. tufts of hair were already long and fluffy, just like his. every time the baby's eyes opened a little, a hint of diamond blue could be seen. oh, he's the spitting image! adorable!

and then, you offer for satoru to hold him. huh? hold? what is he supposed to do? his arms fumble around and the thousands of parenting tip videos have not helped whatsoever in this situation. this is literally the basics. he tries to relax as you show him how to do it, but god, he just can't. the what if's are constantly running through his mind, waiting for him to mess up. before he even knew it, he had a newborn in his arms.

at first, he's stiff, staring down at his child in his arms as if he's in some sort of fever dream. however, once you leave the room, his parental instincts start to kick in, cooing with silly faces and rocking him back and forth. he's a natural, lightly tickling his son's tummy and holding his hand, tiny 'hi's and 'hello's leaving his lips. he could hold him all day if he could, spend every waking moment with him and listen to every single cry and whine that comes from him.

he's reluctant once it's time to leave, because what kind of father would want to leave their son and be miles apart? yes, it's only a ten minute drive. yes, he is being dramatic. but ten minutes is pure torture.

satoru wants to see his son every day. he wants to watch his son grow up, learn his first words, go to school... but how can he do that when you and him are on bad terms? should he learn to make amends with you once and for all?

[aly4khq]

A DRAGON'S LAIR! ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ⋆*

— sum: You were exploring Tarus city as a self mission, trying to find the dragon who was told to have lived in the city for many years to come. You thought that you would encounter barely anything, but you were ever so wrong.

— characters: dragon!sylus

— warnings: pining, he tops ur clothes, double penetrartion (he had too dicks), improper use of his tail, manhandling, biting, fuckin from behind. (if i have missed any, please inform me!)

— wc: 1,746

You've never been one to lerk into unknown territory or to find refuge in a random city that you learnt about in a history book — it's never been in your nature at all. But once you saw the posters, you knew that it was a place of worship and surprise.

Tarus city, a city where it's been claimed to have a dragon that laid in the depths of a special cave. The cave was highly risky for any normal human being, I mean, the image that laid on the posters was frightening enough to keep away tourists. The unusually greyish-red that scattered around the cave's entrance, moving around like a line circling a branch, a black thick coating around it which looked like claws when compared to each other, the singular hand on the top leading to the cave like it was inviting you.

You loved mythical creatures so this was a field day for you, you needed to go.

There was also a garden which yearly grew beautiful flowers there, crimson in colour and rose in shape. They scattered everywhere, and they seemed to have been planted by a very skilled gardener — if there even was one back in the early years of life. Oh how you'd love to distress by rolling in there after a long day, what a dream.

But you weren't just there for the cool looking dragon, you were there for the sword. Like that playground sword that you had to remove from the ground, and whoever could move it was the 'chosen one', there was one that laid outside the cave, imbedded in the beautiful scenery of flowers and healthy grass with its delicate pattern leaving you with mysteries.

"Where did it come from?" "What does it symbolise?" "How did it get there out of all places?"

Who owned it?

Well, let's just say that you weren't too scared to find out. You needed answers and if you had to dig into a random mythical cave then you will. Despite the lack of information, you searched up any little tips to help you navigate inside of a cave.

You needed to be prepared, and properly prepared.

After a while of constant climbing and exploring the beautiful long yards of greenery, you stood face to face with the cave that was feared the most back in Linkon City, aka the Dragon's Lair. In the papers, it looked like absolute horror capturing in a frame but in person, it was gorgeous.

The cave was expanded and opened for anyone to come into, and you'd did just that. Entering the cave, you turned on the flashlight you brought, seeing insta treasures of many different kinds of art scattered around the walls of the cave. "Wow...this is cool..." you softly murmured to yourself, still engrossed in the scenery—

...what the hell was that?

A deep and raged growl sped through the walls of the cave like air, filling your eyes with an intense sound. Hissing, the growl's sound waves led you to an expanded room, where a big bed-like item was in the front, surrounding by more jewels of ancient treasures. You found yourself searching around, looking for what this place could've belonged to.

And after 5 minutes, you dug in, "What's the worst that could happen?"

Searching the amazing rich items on the floor, your bag got heavier and heavier with time. Each jewel that caught your eye went in. Some of them even had ancient symbols on them, now that's a lot of money.

But, a singular gem caught your eye. It was a necklace that had a black substance scattered all over it, laying on the bed that was in the middle of the room. "Oh?" your hand went out, curious, "This is peculiar."

The necklace was a beautiful golden chain, wrapping with ancient knots and twists so it was bonded together perfectly. On both sides of the pendants scattered around the necklace, there were small, very intricate patterns dented into the metal. It had a pocture of a dragon on the front, and it...was weirdly shaped. Like the top half was crossed out, but forget that, you just found a good millions of money in your hands.

"Well, that's been a nice journey here cave, thanks for the new finds and...yeah. I'll be going."

You turned for the entrance where you came from, and it was blocked off by a large bolder. "Huh..? Why...who?"

You turned around to find a way to get out when a tail wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to your knees in a rapid manner. You scrapped your knee on the harsh carpet. "Ah! Hah...ow.." You tired to arise from your forced position when you heard a deep voice.

"Were you never taught of etiquette? Or was it just you who missed out?"

He boomed over you, a...handsome man. He was silver hair, crimson eyes and weird black claws and a tail. His clothes bleeding in with his skin.

This isn't the dragon. I mean, it's a literally human being?

"Etiquette? Who are you?" You replied back harshly, not thinking before you spoke. Remembering quickly, it was too late, his tail went around your body before whipping the skin behind you thighs. You yelped, cursing the man-dragon above you.

"You!—" "Me what?"

He arose from his throne, walkijg menacingly to grab your waist before pulling you up to your feet. He turned you around, your back against his toned chest. His hand went over your chin and upper neck, pushing your head back to his shoulder with a smirk.

"Maybe I should teach you," he bite your collarbone before growling, "how to respect a dragon's cave."

"Gahh—Ugggg, you're so deep!—"

"Focus."

That same dragon had you bent over the same drawer you had stolen from, your clothes ripped from his sharp claws just where you soaked pussy was.Your back arched like never before and his hand still around your chin, his teeth biting and sucking on your collarbone with delight. His hips were slow but deep, reaching your cervix with long strokes, his dick sending you into a wave of pleasure.

"What's the answer?"

He'd made you write down the rules of entering his cave again, the pencil shaking vigorously in your trembling hands. The paper soaking up your falling tears as you begged and pleaded with the man above you. "Hahh— Sylus— please...! Please! I might just—"

His tail traveled down your clit, gently caressing it with the peek of the tail. "Write it down, or I'll do even worse." He threatened, and you obeyed, grabbing the pencil and harshly writing down, "I will be respectfu—"

"Ah!!" His hip gave you a sharp thrust, a warning to behave and write properly. His hand groping your wee cheeks to the point that you could feel his claws digging into your flesh. "You have one more chance." With every word, he thrusted harder until you shrieked, your body bending more forward to escape his powerful hips, you pussy squeezes into the life out of him.

Your hands went back, trying to push his pelvis away from you. "Hm?" He hummed, his eyebrow rising before you hear a chuckle, "Want me to slow down sweetie?" His voice was playful, yet you nodded quickly anyway.

"Too bad." 



He sped up, his hips snapping so fast with your to the point where it echoed in the room. Your hands banged on the drawer, lookijg for a way to soothe to intense pleasure that you were being given. You couldn't even speak, your face fucked out and your body slowly weakening.

"S-Sy...luss...I can't...! Please..." You begged, trying to find a better way to convince him to give you a break. His dick the was so deep that you thought that it was two dicks at once. It felt so huge, and more struggle.

The stretch was too much, you yelled, "Sylus! Why is it—" You gasped loudly, relent that he had two massive ducks in you at the moment, both of them lodged deep in your pussy. In that moment, you nearly passed out. "Ahh ah hah...hahh!!" You cried out, tensing, "Pleaseee..."

"You're fine, just one more." Sylus cheered on, his tail moving up to caress your back, travelling down the straight line. His tail met your ass, gently put slowly digging it into your other hole, "No! No no, please, i can't, please," Your whole body was shaking, your sweat coating your skin.

"Mhm, fine, for now." Sylus replied in a teasing tone before continuing to roll his hips into yours, and by that tight squeeze he knew that you were close. You stood a little, crying, "I can feel it!— I need to pee—Why does it feel like I need to pee?!—"

He reassured you, speaking in your ear, "It's normal, you're fine, just relax." You wasn't breathing at all. He grabbed your chin again before ordering you, "Cum."

Your orgasm hit you, your lungs not being able to take in oxygen due to the sheer force of your release. The intense feeling was still shocking you, your hands braking some of the wood of the drawer due to your grip. Your legs shaking like no ever before you felt his claws tap your chest, "Hey, Breathe."

You took a deep breath in before covering your mouth, instantly being met with fatigue. "I need a rest...I can't feel myself..." Sylus chuckled at your position, his hand goijg around your waist to carry you to his bed. "It's okay, you took both off my dicks, well done."

"I knew you'd come along," Sylus hummed, "so just relax my Queen, I'll take care of you.

this is not proofread! i was too eager to post so sorry hotties!

@ aly4khq, do not plagiarise, translate or copy my work. (30/11/24)

[callmecoke]

Thinking of the first time the 141 discover you on a website for Sugar Babies (P3)

cw: sexual content, reader sending nudes, mention of sex work (Sugar babies), NSFW Gender neutral reader

Thinking about the first time you sent more…risky photos to your mystery account of four men. For the first few months it was going really well for you. You were financially stable enough to

pay your tuition fees and your bills on time. You could finally treat yourself to things you couldn’t previously afford, and the boys love receiving little pictures of the things you buy yourself. Honestly, you were stable enough to quit this and apply for a “proper' Job, but there was a big part of you that didn’t want to leave this all behind. In a weird way, you grew very attached to these strangers on the other side of the world who paid you just to talk to them. They helped you during your toughest moments, even when they didn’t have to do anything. In a way, you were grateful for opening this account on a whim and meeting these little strangers.

And so, you considered maybe it was time to give them a little gift for all they've done for you.

You knew that a big part of this website was exchanging nudes and dirty pictures for money, but you had never really taken advantage of that specific service before. Infact, the men didn’t even seem to initiate anything sexual with you at all, and were perfectly happy just chatting with you and every now and then getting a cute selfie to tell you how gorgeous you looked. 

But because they weren’t going to ask for more, you decided you had to make that plunge yourself. You weren’t sure if you knew what you were doing. You didn’t go out to buy any expensive costume or underwear for the photo, just stripped down to your cheap everyday undergarments and…posed. Or at least tried to. There was an awkward phase of switching to random positions to try and find one that didn’t look too forced. You weren’t too sure if the photos you took were any good. In fact, your critical mind was telling you that they were horrific. You had picked the one photo that you considered to be ‘less bad’ than the rest and your finger was hovering over the send button as you considered giving in to embarrassment and turning around now. But, you swallowed the lump in your throat and clicked. All that was left for you to do is wait.

Switching to the 141s pov, There was some downtime after completing a rather difficult mission. John was sending a report to lasswell about the details of what went down, reporting back on the intel and the status of their target. Simon was in his corner, per usual, dulling his knife on a block of wood to carve it into shape. Kyle had found a spot on the floor he could lie down in without being disturbed, absolutely buggered after the whole ordeal. And then there was Soap…

The boys decided to rotate shifts on who gets the laptop per day. As of right now, Johnny had it open beside him while he patted dust and sand out of his shoes, not focusing on the screen until a little ‘Ding!’ noise signified you had sent something. He finally looked over and scrolled to your new message, his eyelids shooting open and his mouth hanging open as he releases a very audible “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” Suddenly he had the attention of all three other men in that room, heads turning in his direction as if a gunshot went off. Johnny rushed to close the laptop in a desperate, possessive attempt to keep his comrades leering eyes of your body. Simon tried to wrestle the laptop from Johnnys, as the latter told him in many colourful words to “fuck off and mind your own business.” 

Between the two tusling each other, Kyle getting up and manoeuvring to see what the fuss was about, and John attempting to break up the fight, the laptop slipped from Soaps hands and on to the floor in front of them, screen open and revealing the entire image to all four of them.

Any “Flaw” You had perceived in the photo was entirely nonexistent when it met their eyes. They stood and stared at the picture for what felt like hours, just admiring the form they had only seen in their imaginations. The soft curves of your uncovered chest, outlined by the stray light of the window making you look like an angel from heaven. Their eyes traced down your chest to your abdomen, down to your clothed core that you displayed with shyly spread legs to them. They didn’t even notice, nor care about the cheap piece of cotton; too enamoured by the outlined imprint of your sex against the fabric that they swore was calling their name.

On your side of the world, you were thinking yourself into a stupor as the little “seen” status appeared on screen but no one was saying anything. So much anxiety coursed through your veins that you had bitten your nails until there wasn’t much left of them. You wondered if maybe you made a mistake. Was it too far? Did you potentially ruin the few people who cared about your day and your only source of income? 

Just as the thought of deleting your account and getting a one-way ticket to another country out of embarrassment started to play at your mind, the laptop pinged. Messages popped up on your screen. Four, exactly.

“Jesus christ you are a proper sight to behold.” (Gaz)

“The things I’d do to those pretty fuckin’ thighs of yours if I got the chance…” (Soap)

“Fuckin’ Gorgoeus.” (ghost)

“You’ve caused quite a stir here, love. Never seen the boys this pent up before. Can’t say I blame them. You’ve got me a little stiff here as well.” (Price)

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Beauty is a beast that roars

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: You quietly long for Eddie’s attention, and when things with Chrissy start to look serious you resort to desperate attempts for him to look at you the way he looks at her.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, hurt (no comfort), Eddie is kinda a dick, obsession, hurtful notes being passed, mentions of bulimia/eating disorder, mild stalking, low talk about self image, societal pressure to look a certain way, mental health struggles, characters are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @reveriesources

It started as a slow burn inside of your chest. You blamed it on the stress of finals but the more you saw them together, the more that burn worsened into a blaze; scorching your heart and tarring it black.

You didn’t think it possible to be obsessed with someone that you didn’t love- but you worshipped the very ground that Chrissy Cunningham walked on. At times, you thought she was able to read your mind. The way she effortlessly flicks her natural glowing golden hair over her shoulder as she laughs, looking like she was sculpted by Aphrodite herself- or how she presses her perfect rosy lips in peppery and sweet kisses to Eddie’s cheek. She had him wrapped around her skilful fingers. You couldn’t stand it.

It twisted your insides into a rope like knot- so tight and big and uncomfortable. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think straight when you looked at her. At them. Your brain harbouring thoughts of envy, rotting from the inside out with lightless horrid concepts.

You couldn’t help but follow study Chrissy. Her signature blue eyeshadow that adorns her gorgeous blue eyes, her tiny upturned nose, her well proportioned features- her body. You had never repeated this information to anyone before, not even Eddie, because not only would it expose your research into Chrissy, but because you definitely weren’t ever supposed to find out.

You had walked in on her one day in the bathroom. She was hunched over in a stall, her white sneakers peeking out from beneath the cubicle door. She was vomiting. Harshly.

At first you thought she may just be sick, and she was, but it was a different conversation. You entertained that thought until you walked in a second and third time to her in the exact same position- her fatigued body draped over the toilet bowl. You understood how she maintained her physique. It broke your heart; momentarily.

What broke your heart more was that Eddie evidentially had no idea. You knew, deep down, Chrissy was just like you. A sad, broken girl. But she was better at hiding it. The Duchess of disguise. The Queen of your psyche. Your admiration of her was unhealthy, you knew that much. You just couldn’t stop. You needed Eddie to look at you the way he looks at her.

So you cut your hair into a fringe, and you change your clothes. You find your own signature colour of eyeshadow and you even purchase a few skater skirts. Sports had never really interested you until now; now you were trying out for the cheerleading team. And with being Chrissy’s friend- of course she gave you direct entry.

Because despite her beauty, Chrissy was also kind. Which made the knot in your stomach grow firmer, imbedding itself within you permanently.

-

“Hey, Eddie!” You make sure your voice is dripping with the sweetest form of honey as you bat your mascara thick eyelashes at him. He glances at you from his magazine, quirking a brow at your chirpy energy.

“Hello… What’s up?” He asks, his words clipped as his eyes focus back on the flimsy book he holds sturdily in his hands. God… his hands. The rings that compliment his slender fingers and the bracelets that dress his wrist. You couldn’t get enough of it- of him.

It was impossible for you to hold his attention for more than a few seconds, and you had bound into the library full of hope and partial confidence today. You had pieced together one of your best outfit. A denim jacket draped over your shoulders, a white tank top (with no bra) and a cute skirt in your favourite colour which also matched your eyeshadow. Your hair was in a voluminous pony tail, held up by a great big scrunchie and your eyes were bright with popping colour. Your cheeks were dusted with blush and your nails painted perfectly; with the help of your mother.

You couldn’t think of a reason why Eddie wouldn’t look at you. You looked totally bitchin’!

“Uhm…” you stutter, your small confidence wavering at his lack of interest, “We haven’t really hung out in a while… I thought maybe we could? If you like!” There is a festering in the pit of your stomach, a panic that grows with every anticipating second, “We don’t really hang out anymore... just us, I mean.” You add, hoping further context will make you sound a little less desperate.

You and Eddie used to hang out every day. Sometimes alone, sometimes with the whole group. But lately… things have changed. And you know the reason why.

Eddie acknowledged you with a hum, finally placing his magazine down and narrowing in on your appearance. You thought you wanted him to look at you, but the intense confusion on his face made you long for the earth to gape open beneath you and swallow you whole.

“Looks like ya did a deep dive through Chrissy’s wardrobe.” His chuckle makes your ears heat and your face flush as his fingertips pluck at the sheer scrunchie wrapped in your hair. You can’t tell if he is joking or not— but to you, it’s a compliment nonetheless.

After a moment of pause and total excitement you gather your composure quickly and cough a meek reply, “I’m trying something new.”

You’re trying to be someone new.

“Hmm,” He examines you further, “I dunno,” Eddie scratches at his chin, his once soft and playful features now express something more distasteful, “I personally prefer your old style— this seems… out of character.” There was a lilt to his deep voice, which made him sound interrogative.

“You.. you do?” You curse inwardly at the stutter in your airy voice. To say his words shocked you was an understatement. They had your jaw hanging loose and your eyes opened broadly. Had you gotten it all wrong? Were you really just as pretty before all of this? Or was he teasing you… was he trying to make you feel better? Was this his attempt at telling you that you look like an utter clown in comparison to Chrissy?

You’d never know… because you would never ever ask him such things.

You think back to a note that got passed to you in class not too long ago- you weren’t sure of the culprit (you suspected Jason) — it read along the lines of,

‘Apply all the makeup you want, but at the end of the day it’s just lipstick on a pig.’

Were you a pig? Was this all just a feeble and comical attempt at beauty? To be desired. To be wanted. It’s all you longed for. It’s all you dreamed of.

You wanted Eddie to see you. To want you. And at this rate, you were losing all hope.

“Yeah,” alongside a small laugh he also flashes you a toothy smile, a mocking smile— and you clamp your jaw closed to stop yourself from shaking out a sob, “Listen, you’re free to chill here with me if you want but— hey!”

You couldn’t take it. The embarrassment. The knife twisting in your chest and puncturing your heart. You flee from the table abruptly before Eddie even has a chance to say anything more to you.

What was wrong with you? You wanted his attention, you wanted him alone and when you got it you despised the humorous way he gazed at you. You didn’t want to be entertaining or funny— you wanted to be loved.

Loved by him.

To please him.

To make him proud…

On exiting the library you pass Chrissy who was entering through the heavy fire doors, clearly she is on her way to meet Eddie. It was uncanny, almost like looking into a mirror.

The blonde spares you a small smile but not without a worried and intrigued glance at your attire before she is muttering a quick ‘Hello’ which you don’t even bother to return. You are too focused on your pursuit to the bathroom where you can hide yourself in an empty stall and cry without judgement. The only issue? You didn’t bring any makeup wipes for the mascara that has plagued your face in splotches and streaks of black tears.

Your eyes sting furiously and your bottom lip quivers outwith your control. It’s hard to believe that you have allowed yourself to stoop this low, crying shamelessly on campus in front of your peers. Their sympathetic eyes and taunting grins don’t go unnoticed by you as you finally make it to the bathroom, bursting into the void room like a bat out of Hell. Slamming the cubicle door closed and sitting on the toilet bowl where you start to question reality.

What are you doing?

You despise the fact that you know, no matter what, no matter how stupid you look- how ridiculous your clothes are and your sorry attempts at looking pretty, you would continue to do it. Even if people stared, gawked, whistled, laughed… you would continue on this descent into madness. The chase of perfection. The downward spiral of your mind had only just begun and you had a far distance yet to fall.

-

Whilst classes had finished for a long weekend and everyone was outdoors enjoying what was left of the sun before Fall crept its way in, you were sat in front of your bathroom mirror. 

Pulling, pinching, tweezing, twisting, sucking, shaving, grabbing and crying.

God, you couldn’t stop crying.

You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t cry.

To you, winter was already here. You were chilled to the bone, hollow in your chest. Insides were sunken. You felt vacant of any joy.

“Honey!!” Your mother yells suddenly from the bottom of the staircase, her voice is cloud like and warm, “Someone is here to see you!” There is a mutter of something inaudible, “Chrissy!” She confirms snippily and your face drops heavily into a worried frown.

“I’m in the shower!!” You shriek back dishonestly and you are reminded that you have a heart as it shudders inside of your chest. You aren’t ready to see her— you don’t have a lick of makeup on, your hair isn’t done and you are still wrapped up in your bath towel. 

Your first thought is how do you get rid of her? How do you lie your way out of this?

You couldn’t.

“Okay, she’ll be waiting down here for you then…” Your mother’s voice dies out and you can hear her offering Chrissy something to drink and eat; which Chrissy declines.

You move around your bedroom agilely, hustling to get as presentable as you possibly could to face the girl waiting downstairs for you. It doesn’t quite register that Chrissy is sitting with your mother, chatting and possibly gossiping. All you care about is getting some makeup slapped on your face and some nice clothes hugging your body.

Your hair can be brushed, but you don’t have time to style it— that’ll have to come later. After multiple a few sprays of your favourite perfume that smells like vanilla and a tinge of cedar wood you feel ready enough to leave your sanctuary.

Nearly tripping over your entire wardrobe that covers your bedroom floor you fly toward the door handle, bracing yourself at the top of the staircase before you descend.

Time to meet your maker.

Your intense gaze flicks hurriedly between your mother and Chrissy as they both stand to meet you as you enter into the lounge room. Chrissy’s hair is twirled and curled to perfection and a short pink summer dress embraces her small frame. On her feet is a pair of red Mary Jane heels and you catch a peek at the silver jewellery strung around her neck and her wrists.

“Hi,” you say, feeling like it is the first breath you take since entering the room.

Chrissy bounds over to you, stringing her arms around your shoulders and pulling you in for a quick but sweet hug, “Hi!” She giggles in a sing song tone before pulling away, “You smell amazing by the way! You’ll have to let me know what that is later!” Her fingers linger on the exposed skin of your bicep and you cringe away from her touch.

“Thanks,” Your mother has long left the room and you walk a few paces away from Chrissy.

“We were heading to the movies, you wanna join? It’s meant to be such a warm night tonight!” To your disadvantage Chrissy follows behind you closely, closing the distance you were trying to create between the both of you, “The whole group will be there! Plus, it’s a thriller which I know you love.” She winks at you and you hate that you can feel your lips curving up into a minuscule smile.

“I dunno, Chris.” Your hand palms at the back of your neck, you feel hot with discomfort and to be quite frank all you want to do is lay in bed and mope.

“Please!” She clasps her hands together, inching closer to you— if that were even possible, “I’ll even buy your ticket!” Her pillowy bottom lip pouts out slightly, “I just wanna hang out with you, it’s been so long.”

And she was right. It had been a long time. You had been so swept up in this horrible pursuit of yours that you forgot you were actually friends with Chrissy. Long before you even knew of Eddie’s existence.

A defeated sigh leaves through your nostrils and you raise your shoulders to your ears, “Fine.” You smile, a smile that feels the most genuine it has in weeks.

Chrissy squeals with excitement, jumping up and down on the spot before taking your hand into hers. Interlocking your fingers so she can make sure you don’t make a run for it, “Let’s go, tiger!”

-

You all find your seats quickly, settling into them with your snacks and beverages. You partially regret not getting a drink but you decide that you’ll be able to soldier through. It’s what you do.

It was no surprise to you that Eddie was there too, but you couldn’t help but panic at the sight of him waiting for you and Chrissy to arrive at the theatre. His tatted arms crossed comfortably over his chest and a love filled smile teasing at his lips as Chrissy trotted over to him, practically jumping into his arms for a hug.

You fell behind them, ensuring you left as much distance as you possibly could. The sight of Eddie alone was enough to send you tumbling into a frenzy of inky feelings.

You could smell Eddie’s cheap cologne mixed with a hint of powerful weed and for a moment it clouds your senses. Taking hold of everything you knew— past, present, future. You couldn’t think about any of it, not with his scent engulfing your nostrils like second hand smoke.

Once the group had settled into the dimly lit theatre you sink into your seat behind Eddie and Chrissy, your shoulders slumping as you wish for the seat to turn into some sort of magical trap door that will transport you to another universe. But of course, you could never be so lucky.

The movie begins with a deafening introduction and you wince at the sound, your finger tips brushing over your ears gently to make sure that they hadn’t been blown off of the side of your head.

Steve occupies the seat next to you, and Robin is next to him with Vickie. You had grown to quite enjoy Vickie’s company. You loved how happy Robin got when she was in touchable reach… you pined for a connection like that.

Normally, you would be in your element as you watched a thriller movie, but something in front of you proved to be far more interesting.

Eddie and Chrissy were whispering sweet nothing into one another’s ear, Chrissy giggling and blushing at whatever it was that Eddie had said— probably something dirty and ridiculous.

And you could handle that. You could endure that.

But what you couldn’t take was watching as their tongues battled it out in a sloppy and erotic kiss. Chrissy had asked you to come and see this film— was it all a rouse just so she could show you who Eddie truly belongs too? So she could dismiss your attempts and break your heart further?

Unbeknownst to you, Steve had clocked the expression on your face. Tears glossing over your eyes, your front teeth gnawing on your bottom lip to try and contain whatever this was that you were feeling— but most importantly, he noticed the newfound stiffness in your body. He could feel you going rigid next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” His voice is low and kind and you should have paid more attention to his attentiveness but you don’t.

“I need to use the bathroom.” Is all you reply before lugging all of your stuff loosely and lazily into your arms and bolting for the theatre isle, but not without earning a few confused looks from Robin.

You bypass the restrooms, your eyes focused on the colossal glass doors which would separate you from Eddie and Chrissy officially.

The humid air hits your skin in an agonising envelop of warmth and you pull your sleeve over the palm of your hand to rub against your soaked cheeks.

Your chest feels heavy with every shaking intake of breath that you manage to pull into your lungs. You are heaving, gasping for air as you sob into the thick material of your sweater.

The sound of passing cars hits your ears and you slightly angle yourself away from the access road connecting the theatre to other public establishments. The images of Chrissy tongue down Eddie’s throat plays over and over in your mind— you don’t even know what the film was about because you were so hyper focused on them.

Your skin feels as though it doesn’t fit right over your skeleton and you grab at the material of your skirt, fisting the fabric as you try to ground your raging emotions.

You catch a whiff of theatre food and it causes bile to raise up the back of your throat, vomit threatening to project from your mouth.

People pass you by, their out of context conversations entering one of your ears and leaving the other. You felt so overstimulated— so riddled with anxiety that your brain hadn’t had space to even register Steve’s hand on your shoulder.

But when you do, you flinch away from him, taken aback by the horror stricken look on his soft features, “Hey… what’s going on?” His voice is low, a whisper as he tries to contain the situation between the two of you. Not wanting whatever this is to spill into the public.

You shake your head, your strong walls flagging up, “Nothing,” you dismiss him, “That movie was just… really scary..” you lie through your teeth and your watery eyes betray your words as tears continue to stream down your flushed skin.

“Bullshit.” He spits, his eyes turning to slits as he inches in closer to you, “Tell me what’s wrong right now.” His thick eyebrows have furrowed deeply on his forehead and you continue to deny him of any information.

“Steve— I’m fine! That movie was scary, I’m scared! That’s all… and.. and I needed some fresh air.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping that the messy headed man would leave it at that but he replies to your dishonesty with a discontent shake of his head.

“You’re fucking lying. Why are you lying to me?” He is so close to you now that you can feel his breath fanning onto your face, “We’re friends, right?” He cocks his head slightly to the right, his eyes becoming a bit more gentle, “Right?”

“Yes!” You respond instantly, “Of course we are friends-“

“Then tell me what’s going on! What is all of this about!” He gestures to your face, but his eyes scan across your body as well. He wants to know the whole truth, and you aren’t going to give it to him.

“I just told you!” You try not to yell, and thankfully your despair is doing a good job at strangling your voice, “I needed air—“ Steve cuts you off.

“Stop it. Stop it now.” He takes a hold of your arm, hurrying you away from the movie theatre entrance, “Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can help! I can help, okay? There’s nothing too big.” You stare into his honey suckle eyes, seeing your owe reflection staring back at you. It causes your stomach to flip with disgust.

“Why can’t you just let this go? I’m fine, Steve! I’m fucking fine! I just wanted air because I felt sick and you’re causing a scene!” You’re yelling now, your once sadness provoked tears turning to anger.

“I’m causing the scene? You’re the one lying to me and busting my balls! I just want to help you!” He takes a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone, I’m fine on my own. I can take care of myself— you don’t get it! You’ll never get it, Harrington!” You jab at his chest, your body shaking with adrenaline.

“Harrington? Wow, okay. Something is definitely bothering you because you only ever call me that when you are really fucking pissed and I know I haven’t angered you this much so just tell me.” He circles you like a shark in murky water and you flee from him, needing some breathing space.

“Tell me!” He demands, charging after you.

You swing around to face him, your entire body feeling as though it’s going to combust.

“You wanna know, Steve? You really wanna fucking know?!” You march toward him, stopping a few paces away from his large frame.

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Your voice is an unattractive squeak, “Is that what you want to know, Steve? Are you fucking happy now?” You’re trembling now— a mix of rage, melancholy and dread.

“I am in love with someone who will never love me back. I… I have tried so hard to win him over.” You pluck at your t-shirt, scoffing at the silliness of it all, “I tried to change everything about me. I tried to be the one he would want but he doesn’t want me. He’ll never fucking want me, Steve.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a form of defensiveness, “I’ll always be second best— no.” A moment of ugly realisation hits you, “I’m not even on his list. I’m not even a back up option to him. I’m a nobody. I can’t compete— I can’t compare.”

You’re a mess now. Smudged eyeliner. Smeared lipstick. You are a museum of failed art.

“I am in love with Eddie Munson and he doesn’t even know who I am.”

You try to lessen the blow of your own words with a tight lipped teary smile and a shrug of your shoulders… but whatever was left of your bruised heart was now torn to shreds. Unfixable. Unlovable.

“No one wants me.”

Through your distorted vision you hadn’t even noticed the tears pricking at Steve’s own eyes as he watched you fall to pieces in front of him.

Gently he brings you to lay flat against his chest, one of his hands rest tenderly against your hair whilst the other it draped over your shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds you silently and allows you to sob into his broad chest— your makeup destroying his pristine white shirt.

A few moments of the embrace pass and that’s when you hear a muted voice from behind Steve’s large frame. A voice you had hoped to not hear— a voice that belonged to someone you had prayed would never ever hear you confess what you just had. A voice that was laced with what you could only pinpoint as malice and repulsion.

Eddie.

“What.. the fuck?”

And as Steve’s body tensed against yours, you blinked away the last of your tears and accepted your fate.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers

[sophieswundergarten]

EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS

↳ 𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌.

[min-imum]

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: gn!reader, sending frisky pics ooh, lingerie

mingyu’s absolutely exhausted. he’s been practicing for the upcoming comeback for hours every day. he’d skipped lunch to practice a particularly difficult section of the choreography, and then he spent the rest of the day dancing, singing, and rapping — and he’s tired.

all he wants to do now is to get home and enjoy a nice dinner with you. snuggle up, watch a movie, and if he’s lucky, maybe you’ll give him a massage to ease his aching limbs.

his phone dings, and he looks away from his lyric sheet to glance at his phone. a text from “baby ❤️” lights up the screen, and he ditches his practice immediately, eager to talk to you. even if it’s only over text, you always find a way to help him relax.

he clicks on the notification excitedly. your “hi, love, what are you up to?” message warms his heart, and he’s quick to tell you about his little practice session in one of the studios.

“can’t wait to see you! <3” he tacks on — and it’s true. he desperately wishes he could be home now, with you, but his cheol hyung will get his ass if he leaves anytime before six.

you send an image, and his mood lifts! maybe he’s going to see you drowning adorably in one of his hoodies, or maybe you’re sending him a picture of the snack you’re having. he loves knowing what you’re up to. he opens the picture, and—

well, he’s glad he’s alone.

he feels his cock harden in his pants as he gazes at the photos you’re sending. the caption “i got this today, do you like it?” does not prepare him, not in the slightest, for the onslaught of sexy pictures you’re sending him.

pictures of you twisting and turning in the mirror or in bed, dressed in the most gorgeous set of red lingerie, fill his vision. his free hand moves to palm himself over his sweats before he even realises. your next message, “picked red cuz it’s your favourite colour, gyu”, makes him groan out loud.

he scrolls through the pictures slowly, appreciating and savouring all of them. there’s a picture of you kneeling in front of the mirror, arm placed strategically to block the camera’s view of your pelvis. there’s another of just your upper body, chest decorated with the prettiest red bralette, your thumb placed teasingly on your lower lip. his favourite is the one of you on the bed, chest down and ass up — he can see your pretty face and your ass peeking out from behind.

mingyu: baby, i’m at work!!!!

mingyu: what if someone saw?!?!

baby ❤️: you said you were alone :3

mingyu: fuck baby

mingyu: you’re gonna be the end of me

mingyu: i’m so hard rn

baby ❤️: show me, please?

“shit, fuck,” he mutters. he checks the room for cameras, and, finding none, pulls down his sweats. his cock, long and hard and warm, slaps up against his belly. he feels like a teenager again as he snaps a dick pic for you, but god, you asked to see it and he’s not about to deny you.

as soon as it hits six, he’s going to be out the door and on his way home to see you.

part 2

[makrustic]

Your art is breathtaking and gorgeous. I can’t stop looking at the movement and the vibrant colours and how it has texture like you can see paint applied with a knife. I just… oh my god 😭.

How did you develop your style?

It's all mainly just me going through the four years of doing art; making pieces, adding new techniques/styles that my goofy head likes and changing up some of the things that I'd rather move on from.

I'd describe my art nowadays as a mix of other people's styles, something that I wholeheartedly refer to as 'stealing' because it's funny. The impressionistic nature of the style comes from Erin Hanson (first image), mixed with the thick painterly textures of Anastasia Trusova (second image), and one of the first main inspirations for doing pixelart landscapes, @8pxl (third image).

This serves as the base for all my art lately, and it's just been a style that I'm happy to call mine, while also paying some tribute and homage to my inspirations. I'm continuing on changing some stuff and experimenting, trying out new things with my art; further refining it into something that I'm happy other people can find inspiration from, as I did with others that came before me <3

[skyrigel]

Can you write an image in which Benedict is obsessed with Y/N and is always looking for reasons to touch her. However, Y/N knows that when it comes to women, Benedict quickly gets what he wants... sex. She keeps him waiting and doesn’t sleep with him until the wedding day.

Obsessed with you | I

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x afab!reader

Synopsis: Ton's most eligible bachelor is obsessed with the mystery lady in silver, and would do anything to have her

Warning: Reader's mother has issues, scandalous family, last name Rose for convience, Benedict being a smug bastard, some regency class differences, cute Polin, cute kathony, minor non-con touching, smoking cigar, lots of teasing and ofcourse obsessive and possession behaviour. Might be toxic! Benedict but please he's a cutie.

Dearest gentle readers,

While for sure we have seen former Rake now Kate's beloved whipped husband, and Colin bridgerton who is so smitten with his dearest wife that it will not come forward a surprise if he hasn't set foot out in all these days, but Benedict bridgerton is neither whipped nor smitten, he is, as the poets would whisper, obsessed. It will be amusing to know who this mystery lady is, with her dazzling silver gown and piercing eyes, sharp enough as she carved the gentleman's heart out.

Benedict was a man for art and muse so forgive him if he got so obsessed with you, the real question was, how could he not ? You were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, clad in your most dazzling blue dress that he wanted nothing but to take off.

" She exaggerates." Anthony pouted, he shouldn't know that he had but he's been pouting a lot lately, it's called 'kateffect'

" No, you've been domesticated brother, just admit it, Kate has tamed you." Colin peppered, sprawling down next to Anthony who greeted him with the most glaring glare.

" Like you're any better." Anthony smirked, setting his gaze on Benedict who read the index again.

" Penelope doesn't know her name ? " Benedict worried his jaw, looking between his brothers.

" I take that back, Penelope didn't exaggerate, you're really very much obsessed." Anthony remarked, Colin nodded.

" Oi, she would've known your mystery lady's full name and history but—"

" Don't complete that, I'll duel you."

" In the middle of a ball ? " Benedict laughed, eyes amused, Colin turned a crimson red.

" Rather tempting—"

" Oi! " Anthony raised his brow, his mouth curving in disdain, as Colin staggered away, leaving Anthony praying to lord behind like he was any better.

" Oh dear." Benedict smiled when once alone, thumb caressing the index, as if it was the mystery lady in silver blue gown, accused of taking away the gentleman's heart.

" Who are you ? " He whispered.

_

" Ma'am, would you like something else ? " Mrs. Turner asked once you were seated on your dressing, playing with several glassy bottles with colourful scenty substances.

" In yesterday's masquerade ball, I was dancing with a Bridgerton—" Mrs. Turner tutted softly," He's Benedict bridgerton, i assume."

" Yes, indeed, the only bachelor bridgerton boy of age." Mrs. Turner pulled the corset strings and you gasped, feeling your internals squeeze in the process.

You smiled, thinking about the way Benedict looked at you, all stars in his eyes.

" I..it is not my place miss but as your well wisher, i would say.." she worried her jaw.

" It's okay Mrs. Turner, you should speak your mind." You assured her, feeling her fingers stop at your back as she looked at your reflection in the mirror.

" Benedict bridgerton's a rake, unlike any other gentleman... he's known to engage women with class and wits...artists, musicians, and other dimplomacy that are odd amongst our sex."

" Oh." You nodded, feeling stupid enough to think those were meant for you, like they were of real affection.

" I wouldn't want you any harm, after your father's death and your inheritance affairs, you couldn't afford another scandal, for a good match—"

" My virtue should stay intact ? " You raised your chin, examining the stain of rose on your lips.

" Your sister was a good girl madam, so are you." Mrs. Turner smiled, her eyes crinkling with deepest concerns.

-

Benedict's eyes were searching for you everywhere, he has been waiting for you since so long. Despite anxious mamas forcing introductions and dances, he was looking only for you.

" Miss Rose." Benedict turned to see his sister in law, smiling a smirk, followed by her husband in tow.

" You wound me Pen, it's Benedict bridgerton! " He laughed, much to Colin's dismay.

" Oh well your mystery lady is Miss Rose, daughter of late Duke of Blair field and lady bloom." Colin was one step away from clapping.

" Wow." Benedict's mouth curved in a delightful 'o'.

" Oh well they are rather scandalous, her sister was rumoured to be not a virgin which deceased all of her prospects of marriages, her mother is rather protective of her."

" Pen, did I tell you how you're my favourite sister ? " Benedict perked his gaze towards the entrance, hoping for you to bless him.

" Don't let Eloise hear that." Colin said, outstretching his arm that Penelope held as they swirled between the crowd, laughing.

_

" You shall not be unchaperoned." Your mother had a faraway look in her eyes, her hand was trembling and you surged the desire to just hold it.

" I understand, mama." You bowed your head once, trying to forget the trembling of her hands.

" Don't engage in gossips dearest, better keep to yourself and..." She forgot what she was saying, her lips trembling along, you looked at Mrs. Turner with a pleading gaze.

" Ma'am, we must make haste." She simply said, your mother spared a glance to you, her mouth tightening around the corners.

" You look beautiful child." She looked away, you pretended not to see the tear that glistented down her cheek.

After securing yourself in the carriage, with your dress squeezing the life out you, you finally breathed.

" I envy Gissele." You said softly, caressing the uneven glittering fake diamonds.

" She would say the same." Mary mumbled, she was Mrs. Turner's daughter who rather got scolded every often for being too blunt. You liked her alot.

" Oh wouldn't it be so wonderful to just lay in bed, reading a book and wearing simple soft dresses." You perked up at the idea of a life like that, a simple homely cottage, filled with warmth and sweetness and books.

" But the society has it's own fun, look at you, pretty dresses, pretty shoes, and all those prince charming lords." Mary took your fan and mimicked the motion, you smiled.

" Well you could always borrow a dress, have some fun." Your eyes glinted, Mary shaked her head.

" C'mon." You grabbed her wrist, shaking them, up and down profusely.

" No, mama will kill me ! "

" But the fun ?! No one would know, they haven't seen me, they don't know me."

" Well i can't pretend to be you, what would happen if somebody caught us."

" Don't then, be yourself ! Mary Turner."

" Sounds like a bad idea." Mary said, her smile deceived her.

" Lord Turner of Riverdales, be their relative, no one hardly pays attention."

" Whistledown does." Mary narrowed her eyes, you looked out to make sure you haven't yet reached.

" Well she called me a mystery woman who apparantly took a gentleman's heart."

" Oh Mr. Bridgerton's a known gentleman." You scoffed at that, Mary's brow knitted together as she studied you.

" What ? He's a rake." You brushed the tingling away, feeling the way Benedict's gaze lingered on you, the way he twirled you around like you were the only real thing, the way he flushed and stumbled through his words, attempting to know absolutely anything about you.

" I highly doubt that, never heard anything about him."

" Presumably he has a longing for accomplised women." You finger quoted it with a scowl that was too unladylike, Mary bursted into fits of giggles.

" What ? " You poked her, she shaked with her guffaw, chortling in her way.

" You fancy him." She said, chuckling the ' him' away, you frowned deeply, heart leaping at the ton that was gathered outside lady Danbury's exquisite ball.

" Utter rubbish. Do you still want to have fun ? " You asked, Mary smiled.

_

Benedict gaze perked up when you and Mary stumbled through the ball, Mary was almost shaking and you were sure her clothes didn't fit much to you, you felt your back prickling with burning gaze and you turned.

" Told you he's a rake. Don't be friendly to him." You whispered to Mary who was about to run when Benedict dropped his conversation with lord White, swaggering towards you.

" What if he recognises you ? " She mumbled and your lower lip trembled, but that's not possible, your mask obscured your whole face except your lips and eyes and certainly he hadn't painted you in his mind, afterall he shouldn't be that obsessed.

" My lady." He bowed, his gaze locking in yours as he kissed the hand Mary very reluctantly gave him, he was amused when Mary mumbled a hasty greeting, her manners mimicked.

" You look exquisite, more than the ball itself." He was clearly flattered when Mary blinked hard, looking at you for help.

You rolled your eyes when Benedict too, looked at you with a similar pleading as Mary.

" Forgive me my lord, my lady is tired—"

" We haven't been introduced i remember, Benedict bridgerton." He grinned, he actually freaking grinned as Mary glanced at you with the corner of her eye.

" Lady Mariam Turner." She blurted it quickly, looking at you for approval, " A pleasure." Mary smiled, you nodded.

" Forgive me Mr. Bridgerton." You cleared your throat, Benedict's gaze penetrated through you, he was setting you on fire and you couldn't do anything but to burn.

" My lady is tired, you must excuse us." You felt your throat dry, your whole body withering when Benedict narrowed his eyes, lingering specifically on your lips and treading down slowly.

" Indeed, I must not keep you." He cocked his head to Mary, humming along as you strode past him. You were sure he only whispered the ' not ' out of curtsy.

_

" That was bloody brilliant ! " You giggled while Mary shaked her head, clutching her bossom. Your footsteps echoing in the abandoned corridor, stiffling back your giggles.

" That was bloody scary and I can't breathe." Mary heaved, her breath easing when you patted her back.

" Lady Mariam Turner." You teased, bumping your hip as Mary looked at you, gasping scandalously.

" Shut up. I almost died." Mary pulled her dress that sticked to her skin, trying to fan in some air.

" Do you think he recognised me ? " Your cheeks blazed at the heat of the memory of him, his teasing glances and amused smiles.

" I...I think it was rather amusing that we were messing up, did you see how I trembled? " Mary shaked her hand, as you laughed at the display.

" No, my lady." You said, once your giggles subsided, " You were exquisite."

Mary wacked your arm, her smile unable to hide through the twitch of her lips.

" So, shall we go home ? "

" Would you mind waiting in the carriage ? "

" Don't tell me—" Mary glared, you pouted with puppy eyes.

" Please, you know it's my only way."

" Smoking is bad." Mary declared, " and for men." She added grimly, you nodded along, grabbing her wrist.

" Please, please, please."

" Only if you give back my clothes, i miss them." She touched the soft cotton of her clothes that you were wearing, you perked up eagerly.

_

You took joy at the puffs of smoke that ridiculed the air, the night chill freezing it into clouds of silvery mist.

Mary was dozing off in the carriage until it was time to go home, so early arrival doesn't raise any questions and your mother fast asleep, her trembling lipped questions saved for the next day.

" I thought your lady was tired." You almost dropped your cigar, jumping up the swing as it creaked at sudden outburst.

" Don't drop it, i don't have any with me." His smile was too big and smug for his face, his nonchalance dripped as he took the swing opposite of you. You stared, for some reason cigar still burning in intricate yellow blazing circles, dropping to ashes.

" Forgive me my lord—" you just remembered you were no longer in Mary's clothes.

" That's the only line you grasped so far ? " Benedict leaned on his swing, catching your wrist as he dragged you to sit.

You sat down with a thud, swing jiggling with your weight as you processed his smile.

" I..." You stammered, flushing in heat as he inhaled you in, you were back in your clothes, the one you were supposed to wear. And Mary was right, you couldn't breathe.

" I would say you look beautiful, in everything, in anything..or—" in nothing.

" I should leave." You throat itched.

" Stay." He was soft, almost a whine, a plead.

" Please don't tell anyone." You tried your best persuading smile, it worked on Gissele all the time, your lips pouting and eyes shining with stars.

Benedict's mouth curved in a smile, he clicked his tongue as he attempted to speak but he found he couldn't. A pause, then—

" You love tormenting me, don't you ? " Benedict took the burning cigar from you, locking your eyes with his own as he brought it to his mouth, a sound escaped him as his lips curved around the warmness that belonged to you, he inhaled deeply.

" I don't know what you're talking about." You tore away you eyes from the erotic display of smoking, he hummed in a dry scoff.

" Ofcourse, you wouldn't." He offered the Cigar back, every word coated with sarcasm.

The breeze was so cold that you shivered, moon hanging low in the night sky and every star stared back, Sirius, Rigel, and all of them.

" I never meant to offend you." You took the cigar back, his fingers brushed, a electrifying wave rippling inside you, like the way he held your hand and danced with you in the masquerade ball.

You noticed his flexing but said nothing, heart beating too fast to be sane and alive.

" Miss Rose—" you gasped, how could he know your name, "—have you ever been kissed ? "

" I...Benedict..lord." you clamped your mouth shut, lips suddenly struck by a bolt as they buzzed.

He leaned as you felt your back touching the rope of swing, his face too close... would he kiss you ? Would it be as electrifying as the rest of his touches ? Would you survive it or simply burn like a pheonix ?

" It's okay, we would alot when we get married. " He took away the cigar and dropped it as it was so close to burn your skin, smiling all the while. Was that a proposal ?

" Go home, it's getting cold, Mrs-yet-to-be bridgerton." And he pressed his lips against your forehead, his smile caressing your heart.

Rigel's note 🪩: while I loved this idea especially the hilarious ' Benedict gets what he wants....sex ' but I needed to base it, so it doesn't come as pervy and non con as it might, to make it comfortable enough to write on my part, I have tried to break it into parts, this part is generally meet up and getting obsession with y/n ( no use in fic ) and other will be courting and marriage bliss. Gif not mine.

[authorhjk1]

Interlude: Venice

(IU X Male Reader )

Lee Jieun puts a strand of hair behind her ear, before smiling at the camera. The photoshoot is turning out really well. She got more than enough gorgeous pictures taken and only half of the day has gone by so far.

She is already excited about the second half of the day. You had to promise her that you would spend your time with her throughout the next three days. More than enough time so satisfy every single one of her needs.

"Alright."

IU smiles as the photographer stops taking pictures.

"We are finished with the first part. The second one will start in ten minutes. Miss Lee, we are going for a couple shoot this time."

The Korean woman politely bows her head, before heading towards her dressing room.

As she opens the door, she stops in her tracks.

"W-What are you doing here?"

You look up from your phone, seeing a stunned IU.

"I'm your partner for your shoot."

"But-"

You get off the sofa.

"You don't think I'm handsome enough?"

"Y-You are, but-"

Jieun seems afraid that someone could find out. The relationship between the two of you needs to be a secret.

"I just didn't expect you to be here."

"Why not? I promised to fuck you, didn't I?"

Jieun glances behind her making sure the door really is closed.

"But not here!"

She whispers a shout, visibly scared that someone could find out.

"Relax. We have 10 more minutes, don't we?"

You sneak your hands around IU's waist.

That black dress highlights her slim figure. Her blonde hair makes her look even better than her natural colour.

"What do you want me to do? And where do you want it?"

You feel the older woman shiver slightly with excitement. The thrill of possibly getting caught arouses her even more now.

"Your mouth."

She kisses your cheekbone.

"C-Can you please eat me out?"

You see her blush. Now that she is actually asking you for something, she becomes a little shy.

"You want me to bury my face in your pussy?"

IU's mouth escapes a needy whine as you plant an image in her head.

You take that as a yes. Your hands on her waist turn her around, before bending her over the make up table on your right. The mirror on the wall is decorated by a couple of lights.

Kneeling behind her, you admire how fine IU's body looks in that tight dress. Especially her butt, since it's right in front of you now.

You start to slowly rise the hem of her one-piece. More and more smooth skin gets revealed, the further you hike it up. Finally bunching it up around her waist, you expose IU's matching panties.

The black fabric is the only thing that now seperates you from your delicious meal.

Aware that you have limited time, you quickly pull down her underwear. Enjoying the feeling of her skin, you give each of the blonde's butt cheeks a kiss.

Jieun let's out a delighted moan. She is excited for the next three days. And it seems like they are starting out really well.

As promised, you bury your face deep in IU's pussy. You take in her scent and the slight sweetness of her juices as you hear her moan. Parting her lower lips with your tongue, you enter her hot cavern.

"Mmmm."

IU let's out another satisfied moan.

You feel her hand reaching for your head, trying to push you further into her, while she backs up a little. Your own rest on her hips as you eat her out.

Jieun's wide eyes stare into the mirror as she feels your tongue, burying itself deep inside her pussy. She can't believe how horny she is, when she sees you. She just needs some sort of pleasurable outlet, whenever you are close to her. Maybe that's because of that night in Paris.

She still doesn't know who the other woman was. It makes her feel really weird. Especially when she meets other idols during award shows, music shows, or other events. A shiver runs down her spine. The person, who buried their strap on inside the most intimate part of her body, might be someone she interacts with on a daily basis.

For a moment she thought that her best friend, Yoo Inna, could've been that person. But she quickly got rid of that suspicion. The woman's voice sounded different.

IU moans into the mirror as you feast on her delicious pussy.

The fact that it could be someone she knows, someone younger than her, someone who knows what a slut she is, turns her on even more.

You use that to your advantage, knowing that you don't have much time.

Jieun's legs quiver harder with every passing second. Your fingers dig into her flesh, pulling her plump cheeks apart to give you better access to her hot core.

"Oh fuck!"

With a loud and deep moan, Jieun let's her head sink onto the table. Juices start to run down her thighs in small streams as she orgasms inside her dressing room.

"Took you long enough."

You tease her as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Please put an arm around her."

You do what the photographer tells you to do. Your hand finds its place on IU's waist. The soft black fabric reminds both of you, what you just did mere minutes ago.

"Turn to the side and place a hand on his chest."

Jieun follows the man's orders, placing her hand on your white shirt, right about your heart. You didn't move yours, which means your hand is now resting on her back. Only inches away from her ass.

Being the professional she is, Jieun grabs your tie, while looking up at you.

"Very nice!"

The photographer keeps taking pictures.

"You like this one?"

You whisper out of the corner of your mouth.

"You like being blindfolded, do you?"

While looking at the camera, you can't see IU's reaction. But you can hear how her breath hitches. She knows fully well what you are talking about.

"Who was it?"

A question she asked before. A question you are not going to answer.

The photographer stops Jieun from asking again, making the two of you do a more mature concept.

IU stands now directly in front of you, leaning her head to the side. You reach around her waist, holding her tight. For the photo, you are only supposed to pretend to kiss her. But when you burry your face into her neck, you can't help yourself.

Jieun's mouth opens a little in surprise and enjoyment. Everyone thinks she is just doing this for the photo. But you know better. Your lips move across her smooth skin.

Only the sound of IU's moans echo through the room. The tie you wore earlier is covering her eyes. It takes her back to the night in Paris, turning her on even more.

"Oh fuck!"

Jieun moans loudly as you take her from behind.

The sun is slowly starting to rise over the roofs of the beautiful houses around your hotel. Which means you were fucking her the whole night. Only taking a break to recover your stamina and eat.

But now, 12 hours after the photoshoot, Jieun is bend over the edge of the bed. Her knees are placed on the carpet in front of it, while you kneel behind her.

She looks smaller than usual in this position. You hold her by her wrists with one hand, while the other presses her shoulder into the mattress.

The blue dress she wore at the end of the shoot is probably still lying in the shower. Wet from the shower the two of you took around midnight. It's probably lying there since you came into your room though. You remember throwing it somewhere, after ripping it off her small body.

Jieun kept her boots on at first, partially because you threw her onto the bed, before she was able to take them off. They are now lying near the windowsill. You took them off her feet as you fucked her back against the glass. There wasn't much space there.

Her underwear must be lying around somewhere too.

"Oh my good! You are bruising my pussy!"

You probably do. You haven't gone longer than ten minutes without you fucking Jieun in the last 12 hours.

That thought reminds you of where the rest of her clothes are. Her bra is dangling from the chandelier in the middle of the room. Don't even ask how it got up there, you don't even remember. It's blue, matching her dress and her panties. Her panties...

"I'm! Fucking! Cuming! So! Hard!"

As IU orgasms violently, her pussy squeezing your cock, you do your best to hold on. You are almost at the edge yourself.

"Oh my god! I'm such a mess."

You hear her mumble into the mattress, probably to herself.

Now you remember where her panties are. Or rather with whom.

During dinner time, most of the guests in the hotel visit the restaurant next to the lobby. At that time, the hotel stuff goes through the rooms and cleans, preparing them for the night.

They usually only come in, when no one answers to their knocking and if they don't hear noises behind the door.

That's why the two of you got caught by a very surprised hotel maid.

IU's panties in her mouth, muffling her screams, while you fucked her into the leather couch. The two of you were too lost in the act itself to hear the door.

It didn't take much work to convince the beautiful Italian woman to join. The brunette was more than willing to share with IU, when you eventually came on both of their faces.

She stayed for an hour or so, leaving with a souvenir. You don't know her name, but maybe she will be back today. It's not like the two of you are going anywhere.

"Damn you whore. How are you still so fucking tight?"

Jieun weakly laughs into the sheets as you keep fucking her from behind.

"A-Are you close?"

The longer you fuck her, the longer it takes for you to cum. Your body just doesn't seem to be able to keep up with you.

"Soon."

You groan, thinking about a position, where you can drive yourself faster to another orgasm.

"Do you want my ass? It's tighter, you know."

Jieun gladly tries to help you to decide. She knows how hard it is for you to cum consistently every hour almost.

"Where is the lube?"

You search the room, IU is unable to do so.

You try to remember the last time you used it. Your thrusts slow down as you try to think about it.

A couple of moments later, you start to fuck Jieun's ass, right where you found the small bottle of lube.

"You're stretching me out really good."

She moans against the white tiles of the shower as you plow her from behind.

The water is turned off this time. IU's hair is wet. Not because of the shower a couple of hours ago, but a lot of sweat and some of your cum. It sticks to her neck and shoulders.

"Why can't we spend every night like this one?"

She weakly moans, trying to sneakily convince you to do just that.

"Not a chance, Jieun."

"Please?"

Her cute whine makes you press her cheek against the cold tile, her ass slightly tightening around you as a result.

"I still have a girlfriend to satisfy. And work."

Another pitiful mewl escapes her mouth.

Your thrusts become harder and faster, knowing how much the older woman needs you. The last couple of hours proved, how much Jieun has started to become addicted to the feeling of your cock inside of her.

"I never want this trip to end."

She sighs in disappointment as you keep fucking her ass.

"I'm getting close."

You see her smile, her eyes still covered by your tie.

"Please cum in me. The last time you left a load there feels like ages ago."

"Beg for it, slut."

Her begging is necessary for you to reach the edge at this point.

"Please, cum in my ass."

You slightly pick up the pace. There is not much juice left in your body. In more than one sense.

"Use my hole like a cum dump."

"That's the only thing it's good for."

"You're right, daddy. Use my body properly."

With both hands holding onto her ass cheeks, you thrust deeper into IU.

"You ruined me for anyone else, daddy."

Red marks, produced by your grip, mark her cheeks. They ripple, whenever you thrust into her from behind.

"This body is yours now. Only you can make me cum."

"That's a good girl."

You kiss her neck as you feel yourself closing in on that edge of the cliff. You enjoy how much control you have over her. A woman who is older than you. A woman who is a globally known singer and actress. Offering her body to you and begging you to cum in her.

"Yes, daddy. I'm a good girl. Please."

Your last couple of thrusts are slow but hard. You hit Jieun's cervix with every snap of your hips, making her jolt forward. The tight ring of her muscles squeezes you hard, begging you to fill her body with your cum.

"Damn, Jieun."

You groan her name as you finally cum.

It's honestly not much. It's a small load compared to the one you gave her right after the photoshoot. But your body is drained of all it's fluits. You don't have much more to offer. IU's body has soaked up every last drop of your cum. You wonder how much you came inside of her. Probably a week's worth of cum.

You have to hold onto the glass wall as you watch Jieun slowly glide down along the tiles. When she reaches the floor, she looks up at you with big eyes. Her blonde hair partially covers her face.

"I think I need a longer brake this time."

You can see how much she is trying to hide her disappointment. Although, she is visibly tired as well.

The lock on your hotel room door beeps, letting you know that someone is coming in, using the second key card.

"Mr. (Y/n)?"

High heels click on the marble floor in the small hallway at the entrance.

Her Italian accent seems to always try to seduce you.

You know that voice. You heard it last night, when she sucked you off, asking you to fuck her on the balcony.

"Looks like your new best friend is hear."

You're kinda glad. The two of them can take care of each other for a while and you can recharge.

Once the young maid stands in the door, your tired body starts to react. The break is gonna be as short as possible.

-----------

Hope you guys enjoy this.

I'm going to sort some of my smaller stories and make posts, where you can find all the chapters, so don't be surprised if I post something with a title you've already seen.

Stay healthy!