#and i really think he's got quite a thing for the freelancer

[1800titz]

HI. This is the pornstar!AU (Tiger Harry). Enjoy :D

CONTENT/WARNINGS: face-fucking, anal play-ish, Sir kink, general manhandling, light dom-sub dynamics

WC: 8.6K

“Are you open to raw anal?” is probably not a statement Y/N had …entirely expected to hear when she’d agreed to discourse over pastries and dirty chai lattes. 

It’s a pretty good one, all things considered, and asked with complete professionalism, according to their careers and the open, apathetically businesslike expression shaping the features of her counterpart. Y/N takes a sip of her latte. It is quite a good latte. He wasn’t wrong there. 

Harry blinks. 

It’s very on brand, despite the way she’s sure one of the baristas has definitely twisted around from the dishpit, side eye discreet …but there. And in the barista’s defense, she couldn’t even blame her for eavesdropping on the sordid contents of their public discourse. Y/N isn’t going to turn around and look. 

In Harry’s, he didn’t exactly shout. 

The man across from her takes a slow sip from his latte. Good latte, very good latte. 

She can’t help but admire his varying assortment of rings as he cradles the cup, irises winding from the blocky, golden S to its chunky counterpart, the H. So many times she’d admired those hands, those ring-clad fingers traipsing over bare skin, just the tips meddling over abdomens and winding circles around navels. Those digits sunk into the hair of his partner, tangled into the roots as he manually bobs her head over his cock. Those fingers twisting over the pink tip of his shaft, lining it up before his hips pump. Those long fingers splaying over cunts, swiping a thumb to ogle in front of the camera. 

There've been so many instances where Y/N had wondered the significance of that H and that S. And it’s been really quite simple all along.

Should I call you Tiger in person, then? she’d tapped out over the LED keyboard, days prior when they’d only been discussing the prospect of a meet up. Days prior, before she’d flown out for an on-camera collaboration, to bask in the sunlight of California, to enjoy overpriced dirty chai lattes and oddly promiscuous dialogue in the corner of a cafe. 

I think I’ll just take Harry when the cameras aren’t rolling x, RideTheTiger had messaged back. 

Anyways, it’d probably be a sleazy, poorly-executed one liner (and consequently, a horrifically red flag) in possibly every other circumstance, but this isn’t a first date and RideTheTiger has, thus far, been the furthest thing from sleazy. Even paid for her dirty chai latte, practically shouldering her out of the slot at the register. Pulled her chair out for her, asked about her traveling fares prior to delving into said anal topic. It’s all been fairly gentlemanly. Very business-partner-coffee-meeting. 

“No condom,” Harry tacks on, like it’s clarification for the raw segment of raw anal, as if it actually needed some sort of clarification. 

Y/N takes another sip. Damn good latte. 

“I like it,” the young woman tells him, clearing her throat on this edge that implies she’s mindful of her volume. Somehow, even as a freelance pornstar, she still hasn’t quite managed to get over the awkward degree of shame that a public setting incites. “I like the...” 

That barista is definitely fucking peering over.

“…The mess,” she settles on, because anal creampie doesn’t feel like a term to be said with her whole chest over a guava pastelito. 

For a short moment, Harry just watches her, jade roaming and the corners of his mouth slowing seeping into a simper, like he knows brazenly discussing anal creampies in the middle of a cafe — not quite packed, but still a cafe — has her kind of squirming in her seat. He takes another drink. 

“She’s got airpods in,” the man tells her eventually, forest-y irises jolting to something behind her head — the barista that’s clattering about behind the counter. And if she’s listening in, she’s probably going to go home and find one of them online, or ultimately both, and probably subscribe. 

The tension in her shoulders melts away the longer he grins at her over the lip of his lid, dimples indented in the flesh beside the upturned edges of his mouth. It’s just what they do for a living. It’s just sex. It’s just talking about the sex they’re going to have on camera. 

There’s bells and whistles to it, too, but it beats sitting at home and answering phone calls where angry customers screech all tinny through the headset and don’t comprehend the words, “Sir, if you can’t use your inside voice and talk to me like a civilized human being, I’m not going to be able to resolve your issue.” For Y/N it is. At least she gets a couple of orgasms out of this. 

“Sorry,” she tells him, shoulders slumping, “I think I’m still not— I get …weird talking about it in public settings.”

Tiger gives her this careful look over, eyes amused. 

“S’okay, I understand. If you’d rather get into the details back at mine, I’m okay with that.” 

“No, no,” Y/N protests, motioning out with her free hand, almost like her frigidly humiliated disposition will turn him off from collaboration, “No. It’s just, like. Sex work— it’s— it’s 2024. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Harry blinks. He gives her another one of those slow, knowing grins with his strawberry mouth. 

“No, seriously. We can get into the …rough drafting in a more private setting.” And then he takes another casual, horribly nonchalant sip, “I get it.” 

The man splays back against the chair, the hand not clutching at his beverage laid against smooth bamboo varnish, the nails there neatly manicured and painted with a soft shade of green lacquer. Y/N wonders what that particular color would look like with a glimmering top coat after he’s sunk the digits in between her thighs. She casts her gaze back up to his face. 

“I just figured I’d ask because we exchanged tests last week.” 

Clean as a whistle, RideTheTiger, (appropriately renamed in her contacts as Harry Tiger OF collab), had messaged on a Tuesday afternoon. That text was tailed with an HDR attachment of paperwork detailing his clean-as-a-whistle results, for proof. And the polish on his nails, fingertips gripped over the edge of the sheet, had been a pretty sky blue in the picture. 

She’d wondered the same thing, then; what OPI’s Rich Girls & Po-boys would look like glazed with a sheen of her slick arousal. 

He’s just a fuckable man, Y/N thinks, sat back in his chair like discussing sex work scene scripting is a normal mid-day affair, soft dusting of stubble coating his jaw, curls swept up off his forehead. His white tee shrouds the swallows and the inky butterfly she’s seen flexing over his tummy, the laurels that seep into the deep cut of his v-line, but it does very, very little to hide the artistry that litters his arm. 

That same arm she’d seen in videos, wrapped in pumped muscle as his fingers had worked his partner to the brink of bliss at a merciless pace, plush mouth shaping over some sort of filthy croon, dimples indented. Those same hands cradling over his counterpart’s throat with a gentle squeeze, that same thumb swiping messily over his partner’s bottom lip. Those same eyebrows with a crease carved between their furrow, those same curls in sweaty, disheveled disarray from the incessant rake through of his hands as his cock got swallowed up by a pretty, swarthy-skinned brunette, or maybe a blonde. A curl that’d flopped over his forehead in those videos, hardly hiding a rivulet of sweat that’d dripped from his hairline, is neatly tucked back under designer shades, now. 

Designer shades he’s bought with his dirty porn money, because despite his spiffy, clean boy, seemingly innocuous demeanor, RideTheTiger is dirty, dirty, dirty. 

Because under his warm smiles and his twinkling jade, there’s an alter ego that lives on the internet. One she’s all too familiar with. 

It makes her chest sort of flush under her sweater. This is happening. This is going to happen. 

The chair creaks a little when he sits up, clearing his throat, “I didn’t want to assume, but. I mean— I’m sure you’ve seen, like, my tips. Is it …odd to say I’m a fan of your content?” his gaze slowly settles from his drink to her face, smooth baritone almost …bashful as plush pink splits into a beam and his words catch on a laugh, “Is that …weird?”

Y/N knows exactly what he’s referring to. They’d been two mutuals subscribed to one another, chunks of profit migrating from inbox to inbox. It’d been like a volley, electric currency bouncing through the expanse of the internet, racket to racket, account back to account, pinging notifications striking on uploads behind paywalls. Only then, Tiger was just a man behind a screen. Tiger wasn’t sitting at a table in front of her, and they weren’t discussing the crude elements of the video they were going to shoot together. 

“Not at all,” Y/N clears her throat and pairs it with a side-to-side shake of her head. 

She’ll never admit that she’d touched herself to the solo session that’d popped up in her DM’s behind a paywall only last week, an automated promotion sent out to all subscribers. The one where he’d been sat in one of those lush, swivel-y chairs in front of his computer, firm thighs splayed and ringed hand tugging over his leaky cock. The camera angle was broad enough to capture his eye contact with the lens, the way his front teeth would nip at his bottom lip, the way the column of his straining throat would go on show as he’d tipped his head back with a groan. 

She blinks, staring ahead as she remembers the way cum had painted all the way up over the panting butterfly. Harry grins from across the table. She half-expects him to brazenly admit he’s done the same to her content. So far, she’s concluded that he’s quite unashamed. 

“Makes it easier to fuck, right?” Y/N says, beating him to the punchline. 

He makes this face then, tipping his head, eyes widening and blinking playfully, mouth curling like he’s appalled by her brazen admission in said public setting. Before the young woman can get flustered by his teasing, he sits back and lets his features relax into something soft.

“Yeah. It does.” 

Harry doesn’t tell Y/N she should wear a plug on the day that they calendar in for shooting. Not while they’re in the cafe. In fact, he waits three whole hours until the very precise moment where she’s using her apple pay at a drive through for the notification banner to swipe down. 

When Y/N steps into his entryway, there’s a wilting cactus stemming from a ceramic basin next to a bowl of keys and varying knick knacks. There’s a pair of dice in there, too. 

“This is Tim,” Harry introduces, unprompted, motioning to the withering plant in passing. 

Y/N nudges with her chin like a sort of acknowledgement, tailing him through the hallway, where a neat array of three framed, abstractly artistic renditions of Kama Sutra positions line the segue. She’s half convinced that the doggy one follows her movement like one of those oddly unsettling renaissance portraits. 

“Very nice.”

It’s a Thursday, and they’ve determined today to be the day that they collaborate. She’s wearing the plug, and she tries to ignore the anticipation curdling in the pits of her tummy as she tails him to the lounge. 

“I think I overwatered him, honestly,” Harry tells her, aimed over his shoulder, “but I can’t bear to part with him.” 

He’s wearing gray sweats, and he’s definitely opted to go commando, if the imprint of his dick when he pivots to face her is anything to go off of (though, whether he’s ditched underwear for the sake of the shoot or solely for comfort, Y/N isn’t sure). All she’s really, actually sure of is that she urgently needs to unglue her eyes from the outline of his cock. 

“D’you want a drink or anything? I mean, I don’t like to do any alcohol before shoots, but if you want, I have seltzers in my fridge.” 

He’s all soft attire — the sweats and bare feet padding over tile, curls a little mussed and swept back. A white tee coats his torso with a cartoonish bee in the center. The words ENJOY HEALTH, EAT YOUR HONEY circle the little piece of outlined artwork in blue. His nails are still green. 

Y/N clears her throat. “Do you have water?” 

“F’course.” 

The kitchen is beside the lounge, and he tells her, as he makes his way over and opens a cabinet to cull a glass, “You can have a seat if you’d like. Figured we’d get the details down before we start filming.” 

His couch is an onyx leather, its form like one of those fancy ones from a 1970s inspired catalog. Y/N sinks into the cushion. She crosses her legs. Uncrosses them. Behind her, the fridge whirs in the kitchen as the water pours into the glass. She’s admiring his fireplace when he stretches the beverage out to her.

“What are we feeling today?” the man winds around to the bend of the sectional, flopping back against the cushions with a sigh as his cotton-clad thighs splay, “…Slow and romantic? Something a little more rough?” 

“Used and abused,” Y/N responds, surprised she manages to keep her cadence as even and nonchalant as she does. The second the statement escapes her, though, she takes a long sip from her glass and hides her simper behind it. 

“Used and abused,” Harry parrots, sitting up a tad as his hands seek new homage from their priorly relaxed splay over the back of the couch. His palms smooth down the fronts of his thighs, instead, and he gives her this little grin; something mischievous that lets his dimples wink alive. “I think I can work with that.”

Yes. She’s certain he can, based on his track record of deviously, deliciously rough content. Three weeks ago she watched a video where his partner was laid out on a table, duck-taped limb to limb, and Y/N had watched his hand — rings removed — roam her body with such delicacy as he drove forward into her. It was all up until the point where the same hand had snaked up around her throat, and then he’d brought it back and smacked her right across the side of her unsuspecting face. It’d sent his partner’s head snapping to the side, and a wave of heat riding through Y/N, coursing through her blood as she’d flipped the vibrator between her thighs to a higher setting. 

Yeah. He can work with that. 

“Since we’re going with that route,” Y/N blinks out from the fog of memoirs circling back to Tiger’s hands exploring and pinching and delivering blows. 

Tiger is much more subdued in this setting. 

“Let’s talk things you’re into, things you’re not so into.” 

The young woman gnaws into her cheek to bridle her grin. “Um. Anal’s a go. Obviously.”

Harry nods, mouth friendly, “Okay.” 

Y/N deliberates. She takes another sip. Harry waits patiently. His green bores into her, and the young woman rolls her lips into her mouth, pupils climbing up to the ceiling as she contemplates. She cocks her head.  

“…Face-fucking. That’s nice. I like dirty talk. I like getting my hair pulled. I like a little bit of pain. You know, like. Spanking. Face slapping, but not, like,” the edges of her mouth cave up, “MMA level—“

The joke culls a huff of soft laughter from him. He nods. 

“Just. General manhandling is good with me,” Y/N tells him. 

Harry nods, his fingers interlocked over his spread knees, and then he sits up a tad. 

“Alright. If we’re going with face fucking, I’m a fan of the trusty tap-tap-tap,” he tells her, motioning with his left palm and patting over his thigh in a series of three as he speaks, “If it ever gets to be too much and you can’t say it, just tap three times, yeah? Just like this.”

Y/N nods. She takes another sip. For a moment, Tiger still has his forearms braced over his lap, but then he sits up a little more. 

“And then when you can say, if anything’s uncomfortable, if you want me to do anything different, just let me know. Doesn’t matter if the camera’s on.” 

Y/N crosses her ankles. She uncrosses them.

“S’all about authenticity. Y’know,” his tongue peeks out to swipe over the plush of his bottom lip, “I don’t wanna be throwing you against the wall or choking you if it doesn’t feel good, even if it looks good on camera. If you’re a clit girl, we’ll play with your clit—“

Her thighs press together.

“If you’re a g-spot girl, we’ll focus on the g-spot.”

She swallows. 

“The throwing against the wall and the choking,” Y/N doesn’t bother hiding her simper as it grows, “Those are good with me, too. And— clit stuff. Yeah.” 

Tiger is hot. Fire hot, like lava coursing and bubbling over rigid stone, even in his soft attire with his soft curls and his soft smiles. He’s got these eyes that feel like they bore through her clothes, but it’s not in an uncomfortably hungry way. 

“What do you… what should I call you during the shoot?” 

His strawberry mouth curls a little. 

“I hear Tiger a lot. M’fine with whatever besides Harry on camera. …If you wanna get a little more into roles we can do Sir. But s’all up to you.” 

It feels like he’s just got this effect — this intense gaze that makes her tummy swirl. It’s not innately an odd shift, going from this entirely professional discourse to soft touches roaming up her sides once they’re in the bedroom. 

It’s the setting for their shoot, and she finds that he’s already got a camera set up on his dresser. One of those that opens up and has a little screen piece that swivels to show what’s currently recording. Harry trails over to it, toggles with the little screen, and, she assumes, begins recording. 

There’s a shag rug by the bed in cream. Y/N eyes it as Harry tugs his shirt over his head, as he makes his way over. Tiger is fire hot, but his touch skims her arm like testing the waters at first. His palms cups her face, the pads of his fingers grazing the sides of her neck, close to her nape, and then his cushiony mouth finds her own. That’s testing at first, too. It’s not a chaste, innocent first kiss by any means, but his mouth is gentle, at first. His hands aren’t hard, and his mouth slots against her own with a kind of tenderness. When her fingers tease up at his waistband, fingering at a warm line of skin between his sweats and his t-shirt, his mouth morphs hungrier. 

“Just—“ Y/N manages between searing kisses as his fingers work the seams of her shirt apart through button-work, “—-jumping right into it, huh?” It’s probably not the sexiest thing to say from the get go of the camera rolling, but she’s honestly still got bits of nerves coiling up in her. This is RideTheTiger. This is happening. She’s going to fuck RideTheTiger. 

Another short kiss, this one she can feel the cushiony pink of his mouth curving up into. 

“Sorry,” Harry amends against her mouth, lips ghosting wetly against her cupid's bow, and the word sounds sort of amused.

And then he’s manually spinning her and marching her over to the dresser, where the camera is set up, her stumbling, rushed gait steadied by the firm press of his thighs from behind as he walks her, colossal hands cupped over her arms. 

“This—” he starts, an introduction blatantly made for the lens, and her pulse stutters when his palm slides up and across and cups over her throat warmly — not quite squeezing, but just there. His other hand explores the expanse of her silhouette from the waist down, pads of his fingers roaming over her tummy, “—is the infamously naughty Birdie.” 

Her veins thrum with something, something hot when the ringed digits traipse to the button of her jeans, just looming over. 

“Can I take these off?” Harry murmurs against the shell of her ear. The tips of his curls tickle at her temple, and she knows he asks it low enough that it’s meant for her. She knows the camera will pick up on it anyways, too. 

“Yeah,” the agreement falls out meshed with an exhale, and her head tips back against his shoulder as his fingers do deft, impressively one-handed work at quick discarding. 

The other hand fondles at one of her tits, only covered with fabric for so long before he takes advantage of the opening he’d made along the line of buttons, pulling at one side for the pink polka-dotted cup of her bra to come out on display. This is all very pro-level disrobing. Y/N decides that when Harry multi-tasks, popping the button of her denim through, pinching at the zipper and tugging down, all still with his other hand caressing over padded flesh at her chest. Ultimately, though, both hands make their way to her hips, and his digits wriggle under either side of her waist band to strip her jeans off, until they rest at about an immobilizing mid-thigh, with an unceremonious yank. 

“I’m Tiger,” Harry talks again, finally, after what’d been a silent moment of apparent concentration, his chin ducked into the nook where her shoulder and her neck meet. 

The man’s fingers toy up under the hem of Y/N’s shirt, wandering over a bare sliver of skin between the top and the line of her panties before they climb the buttoned suture and make work there. 

A chill rolls down her spinal cord, stemming all the way from the nape of her neck, the back and underside of her skull, when Harry declares, almost like she’s not even there, his voice a low and heady baritone, “But, she’s going to call me Sir, and we’re gonna play a little rough with her today, because that’s what she asked for.” 

He’s mid her panting ribcage when the tone in his dialogue switches. It melts from sultry and low to something mirthy when the man sighs and huffs against her neck, like the rounded latches are a long-time nemesis, “Buttons, buttons, so many buttons.” 

Y/N can’t curb the surprised laugh that bubbles from her in response. Her hands rise from her sides (where they’d prior been pretty glued, mostly out of awe and the raw sort of submission manhandling incites), and her forearms brush against his own warm skin as the pads of her fingers shakily work over the stitch he’s on. Harry makes an amused sound into her skin as the corners of her mouth curl up. 

This is real. These are the real moments, the ones that she’s ogled so many times from the other side of the screen, caught on camera mid an otherwise entrancing, perfectly choreographed session of picture-perfect fucking. Like the one where he’d spit and it hadn’t landed where he’d wanted it to, or the one where his partner had spent so long in an angle with her hair over her face and his palm cupped over her mouth, that by the time he’d let up she was spitting out stray hair that’d sunk in past her lips, like a cat with a hairball. Soft laughter had bloomed from the both of them when recognition had dawned, and he’d fingered over her tongue to help her as they’d switched positions. It makes sense why Harry never seems to edit those moments out. 

Authenticity. 

Y/N hopes he doesn’t cut this fragment of the video out. 

“Sorry,” the young woman tells him, her voice garbled with giggles. 

His hands snake up from under her own and they’re the one to pop the final button through. A chilly ring brushes the inside of her wrist. The top separates. 

“There we go,” Harry says, tone colored with enthusiasm, and the way his fingers grip up under the cups of her bra, four for each, and tug abruptly, letting them rest under her freshly-bared tits, kind of, sort of gives her whiplash. 

“Teamwork,” his thumbs slip under either side of her underwear and slink those down until just enough is showing for the eye of the lens. 

Her gaze flits to the viewfinder, and the little icon of her denuded silhouette, pressed up against his chest, one swarthy, inked arm tucked over her ribcage and the sight of his other, ringed digits skimming lower, down her tummy, has her squirming in his grasp. Harry sponges kisses to the side of her neck, and then those ring-clad fingers slide between her legs. Every melty muscle in his arms grows wide awake and tensed like fucking stone. It’s only for a second, before he draws his index and his middle digit, splayed into a blissful V, across either side of her clit. That’s when she liquefies like putty in his hands again, humming softly. 

“…And we’re gonna play with her arse,” Harry tacks on for the camera, almost like it’s an offhand afterthought and not the entire basis of the scene they’ve etched out. 

Y/N laughs, but it melts off into something soft and whimpery when the V lingers and drags. 

“Would you like that?” Harry murmurs, nose tucked into her hair — another comment where the volume implies that it’s obviously meant to be shared between just the two of them — his mouth ghosting over her earlobe and his hand climbing up the ridges of her ribcage like a ladder, “Hm? You want me to play with you there?” 

When his palm expands to rest over the gap between the caging of bone, the space extends out on a breath and she rocks in his touch, hips rolling back subtly. “Mhm.” 

It’s not something he fails to pick up on. The pads of his fingertips expertly toggle at the clasp of her bra — honestly, she’s ludicrously impressed, not only by his keen recognition of the frontal clasp, but this seemingly innate, deft ability to discard clothing pieces with one hand. The straps relax and slip down her shoulders the second the cups fall free and apart. 

“Mhm?” Harry mimics; a low, teasing hum. Y/N thinks then, that this little, patronizing repetition thing he’s got going on could be categorized as a kink in and of itself. 

The palm that’d settled over her diaphragm slinks up to grope at one of her tits. 

It’s kind of game over from there. 

There’s something hard and solid digging into the small of her back, and the longer he spends fondling between her thighs, the longer he spends swiping his thumb over her nipple, the more heat teems to her core, like a glowing warmth that seeps and pulses. The more sure Y/N becomes that his fingertips are definitely culling that top coat she’d pictured all along, enhancing the color there with glinting excitement. 

“There’s a good girl,” Harry purrs when her legs spread a smidge more in response, despite the way they’re nearly glued together with the immobilizing squeeze of her waistband resting mid-thigh. 

The tip of his nose burrows into her hair and grazes at the skin on the side of her neck when his head ducks, fingers sneaking further until the pads press to explore where she’s gushing. His index and his thumb work in tandem to pinch at a nipple and tug. 

And then his tongue licks a practically searing stripe right beside her jugular, and his words send air over wet skin to soothe the flame, “…Getting my fingers all wet, aren’t you?” 

Gameovergameovergameovergameover.

Shelosesshelosesshelosessheloses.

Another burst of air over the wet skin, the soft creak of a chuckle — that’s what reminds her that she’s definitely not breathing. 

Fuck. Y/N sucks in air with a chest tensed like metal armor. His teeth nip over her earlobe. 

And then RideTheTiger slides his slick fingers out from between her legs, coaxing (when she sags in his grip like a marionette that’s had its strings snipped), “Why don’t you give them a little spin and show them the pretty plug you’ve been wearing for me, pet.”

Touch, touch, touch. When Y/N pivots for him, turning her backside to the camera, his mouth brushes the crest of her cheekbone. His warm pecs go flush with her own chest, his palms settle on her love handles and the insides of his rings stipple chills to combat the heat of flesh on flesh. He sponges a kiss to her throat when the young woman throws a glance back to the little screen and shakily presses her palms to the globes of her backside, pulling the flesh there apart to show off the pretty end, silicone petals cradling the shape of a rose. 

That’s when he kneels, cheek pressed to the side of her thigh, when he casts his gaze to the plug with that telltale furrow to his brow bone that she’s seen caught on camera so many times. That’s when his teeth burrow into the pillow of his bottom lip, when he brushes a nearly tentative touch over the plug with the tips of his fingers. That’s when Harry nudges at it and jade bounces from the pallid pink plastic to the shape of her jawline tensing above in response, mouth growing mirthy. 

Nothing prepares her for the way he praises, almost like he’s in awe (and nearly too low for the camera to catch), “So pretty.”

A crease works in between her own eyebrows when his index and his thumb pinch over the plug and twist. And then he lays his thumb over the base and pushes, lightly, as if it can go any further. He draws the pad of his index over the hilt of the plug almost thoughtfully, and then tap-taps in a pair of two that makes her roll her lips into her mouth

“Don’t move,” Harry instructs, after a moment, sneaky, devious fingertips withdrawing altogether. She’s holding her breath again. Y/N readjusts her grip. 

“Just like that,” comes his croon from below, undeniably heady and entirely responsible for the warmth churning between her thighs, “…Just like that, little bird. Show it off, baby.” 

Little bird hits her like a fucking freight train. 

It’s just a play on words, a moniker he’s melded from her stage name, her online personality. It’s been all of, maybe, six minutes — a generous consideration for the timeframe — and he’s already managed to morph her porno pseudonym into a pet name with his soft murmur. 

She’s so focused on the ironic way that such a delicate thing off his tongue makes something so violently carnal stir within her that the young woman doesn’t even notice that he’s been sat near her thighs for a solid second, unspeaking and untouching, besides the paste of his warm cheek beside the press of her hands. 

It’s a suspiciously mischievous sort of silence, but Tiger is no secret-keeper, not when he pats over the back of her leg, a one-tap gesture, and rises to announce, one third amused and two-thirds smug, “Thumbnail.”

The admission is so crude and unexpected that it draws a peal of sputtering laughter from her, feigned indignation meshing with mirth as he rises from the floor, all cocky with an unfairly alluring curl that’s strayed from the rest and flopped to lay over his forehead. 

“You want to use my ass as your thumbnail?” 

Muted raspberry breaks its relaxed line to curve up, obviously self-satisfied and obviously unashamed. Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever quite keep up with the casual nature of Harry’s mannerisms, not when he hums and his grin splits further, twisting around her to daub her jaw with a kiss.

“…And not my pretty face?” Y/N blinks.

“Last I checked—'' Harry tells her, fingers raking through her roots and palm cradling at her scalp in a way that coaxes chills to bud and roam down the nape of her neck. The digits twist her hair into a bun until his palm is squeezing at her hair all bunched like a flower blooming in reverse, “—You were here to be used and abused, per your request. Not to ask questions.” 

Despite the way he cranes her neck back with the motion, the way it has her jaw unlatching and a surprised exhale full of want escaping, despite the way he drags his teeth down her neck in a line, nipping, Y/N manages to keep her voice impressively even. 

“You don’t want my pretty face painted with your cum as the thumbnail?” she baits, throat bobbing on a swallow. 

He bites. 

At first, his lashline narrows a smidge in obvious inkling that the brazen words have affected him, but then he tips his head and his smug beam morphs more sluggish, more pleased than amused. 

“You want my cum painting your pretty face?” 

“Mm,” Y/N hums in agreement when he turns her head to paste a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” 

His tone is suggestive as he manhandles her over onto the fuzzy rug she’d admired before things got all murky with arousal and …cinematic. Y/N twists in his grasp until he’s nudging her onto her knees with his hands. 

And his voice is low, easy like a sigh, each note interlaced with nonchalance and seemingly effortless power, “Let’s see how good you suck cock.”

Before Harry shoves his waistband down, though, he stuffs a hand into his pocket and culls his phone. He gives her this look down from behind it, thumb tucked behind gray elastic.  It’s this wordless, expressionless sort of seeking; all good? Y/N nudges with her chin, lashes fluttering. Tiger toggles over the screen one-handed, and her eyes flit to the uneven pull at his sweats — if only for a second — that showcases bare skin and the cut of a V-line on one side. As he nudges the sweats off to rest under his balls, the phone pings. It’s the sound of a notification — he’s recording. 

His dick is pretty. Pretty in pink with a prominent vein on the underside and a soft dusting of neatly trimmed, dark pubic hair over his pelvic bone that his happy trail had foreshadowed, and his tip is a ruddy shade that matches the tint of his mouth. She’s seen his cock before, obviously, but ogling it in person rather than as a conglomeration of pixels is a different sort of experience. He’s always looked big on screen, the sheer size of him with a fist over his shaft always implying it. But he’s big. Big enough for two of her hands to cradle over his cock comfortably with the head peeking out from her grip, digits never quite meeting in the middle. Y/N spits into a palm before wrapping it over his shaft, eyes flickering up front under her lashes to meet the lens of the camera. 

“You’re so big,” the young woman admits after a moment, irises bouncing from her grip to the phone looming over, and she drags her tongue over her other palm to cup over him with two like it’s proof. 

And Harry strokes over the side of her scalp, almost like he’s wordlessly scratching a dog’s ears in praise, a soft, pleased huff escaping through his nostrils and his lips shaping over a smug sort of beam that never really unseals. 

Almost tentatively, with her eyes still bouncing from the lens to his cock and back, Y/N leans forward and drags his tip over her tongue. Harry sighs in response, fingertips still hovering at her roots. She purses her lips and lets saliva dribble from her mouth onto his head messily, swiping over the wetness with her thumb, and then she strokes down his shaft with two hands as she wraps her lips over him and draws a circle with her tongue. The subtle, although sharp, inhale she earns in response to the motion has her batting her lashes up at the camera.  

“You’re not shy at all, are you? Not in front of the camera,” Harry says after a moment. 

He’s so obviously bridling a hiss when she drags her tongue up under his leaky tip, his front teeth lodging into the pillow of his bottom lip and brows furrowing. Despite the phone cradled over her face, the young woman still has enough room to observe his. Y/N bats her lashes coyly, pupils flitting back to the camera as her mouth opens to showcase the view of her hands working in gentle twists while she drags his cockhead over her tastebuds. 

“…No, you’re not that shy, little girl that you were in the cafe at all.”

She seals her lips over his tip, hollows her cheeks, and hums. 

“…All prim and proper,” the fingertips that’d scraped over the side of her scalp trail to the back of her head, “…Didn’t even wanna say you liked cum dripping out of you. Didn’t wanna let everyone know that you’re a little anal whore.” 

The words coax her to clench over the plug. 

“…S’okay, baby,” Harry tells her after a moment, “I like that you’re a whore on camera for me,”and then the hand that’d cradled over the back of her skull encourages her own palm to slowly unwrap and fall away as he curls it over his shaft to guide it’s aim. 

Y/N pulls off, and Tiger smears the tip over her spit-slicked, swollen mouth. It parts, and Harry traces over the open seam of her lips like he’s applying lip gloss. 

“Please,” the young woman says, mouthing over his tip, almost inaudible. 

“Hm?” 

“Please,” Y/N repeats, and the drag of his tip slides over her bottom lip on the s. 

Harry inhales from above. He doesn’t immediately give her what she wants, instead opting to draw over her cupid’s bow as he tips his head, voice quiet and still somehow full of a dominant edge. “So polite. You wanna taste more of my cock?” 

The young woman nods, eyes tipped up, and he smears his cockhead over her mouth again. Harry’s teeth nudge into the plush of his bottom lip before he directs, “Stick your tongue out for me. I’ll give you a little taste.” 

And he does. He grazes her tongue with it the moment it’s on show, basking in her soft breaths puffing out against him and the sweet sight of her gaze, unwavering. 

“S’that good?” Harry asks, mouth curling at the (currently) brazenly lewd young woman at his feet, “What you wanted?” 

And she just nods up at him. Despite the way she wants more, the way she wants to close her lips around him and keep twisting her grasp to watch his seams split in ecstacy, Y/N motions lightly with her head. A little sound escapes the back of her throat when he drags the tip of his cock back over her top lip and sighs. 

“You really are such a little whore, aren’t you?” Harry says, tracing along the open seam of her lips with the tip and dragging it over her tongue again, “Give me a pretty smile. Show me just how much you like it.“ 

His words melt off into a rumbly hum when, as he draws over the border of her bottom lip and takes his cock off her tongue, her pretty teeth slowly seep shut and the corners of her mouth form something absolutely overjoyed. Her head cocks, and she grins up at him. All innocuous too, if it weren’t for the head of a cock smearing over the edges of her smile. His thumb slinks out from the hold he’s got over his dick to graze with the pad at the shiny white of her top teeth. 

“Good girl.”

Somewhere around there is when her teeth part and his thumb mingles onto her tongue. Then, the young woman wraps her lips over the digit and sucks. The tension of her cheeks hollowing over his finger in the silence is cut short with a ping — Harry turns the camera off and flings the phone somewhere in the direction of the bed. There’s no definitive thump behind her, so Y/N assumes the man makes it. She hums and pulls off of the digit with a pop and a giggle. 

Dimples pluck alive beside his smile. “Something funny?” 

“No,” the young woman clears her throat, the apples of her cheeks still emphasized and round with her apparent amusement, “Nothing. It’s just.” She blinks up at him, “…Surreal, sort of. Your dick’s just as pretty in person as it is on camera.”

Tiger cocks his head and swipes over her bottom lip with the tip of said dick. She’s quite good at stroking his ego. 

“Thanks. That’s sweet, darling.”  

A furrow works between his brows as her tongue peeks out to daub at the lingering head. “You watch a lot of my videos?” 

And the admission comes almost hungry, with no remorse, “Mm. Touch myself to them.” 

That’s when his brows crease more, when heat swells down through the trench of his tummy and teems up the underside of his balls, where they drive taut at the words. 

“Christ.”

Blown jade bouncing from her lips to the contact of her own eyes and back. Eventually, he swallows and directs, “Tongue out.” 

When she displays it for him, jaw wide, those shambles splinters of composure seemingly fuse. The Harry that emerges nearly gives her whiplash. 

“You touch yourself to my videos?” Harry coos, and the words are coated with so much condescension that Y/N is sure she’d be humiliated in any other circumstance. 

Her tongue twitches under his cockhead. The man looming over swipes that same, leaky tip over her taste buds, and his grin broadens into something like a borderline sadistic Cheshire cat. And then he’s leaning over a smidge, cock still angled over her outstretched tongue, opposite hand fondling under that, at her jaw, and squeezing at her cheeks. 

“That is so—“ emphasizing the words with the slap of his tip against her tongue, Harry grits out, “—fucking—“ another tap that has her uselessly lolled tongue jolting and a garbled little sound wresting from the back of her throat, “—cute.”

Y/N blinks up at him, one hand uncurling slowly and falling away as he nudges the back of her head to swallow more of him in past her lips. 

“Why don’t you use that hand and play with your little clit for me? The way you do when you’re watching me.” 

She makes a muffled noise around him as he sinks in further, and her hand traipses between her poorly, poorly splayed thighs. 

“That’s it,” Harry murmurs, though whether the praise is directed at the way the tips of her fingers pry between her legs or the way she blinks wetly over his cock as she takes more of him into her mouth, Y/N is unsure. “There’s a good girl. Look at me— yeah. Fuck.” 

He holds onto either side of her head, long fingers splaying over her skull, and the young woman splutters when his tip prods at the back of her throat and teases at her gag reflex. The tip of her nose grazes his happy trail, so all in all, it’s a solid effort in one go. Harry holds her there for a moment, relishing in the squeeze of her throat over him as she fights sputtering more, and a throaty groan rips from his vocal chords before his fingers tangle into her hair. That’s when he yanks her off. 

Her chest is already rolling in pants, and the way his palm collides with the fleshy area of her cheek nearly launches her lightheaded headspace into overload. The blow isn’t loud, and it doesn’t really hurt, but he does it a second time, palm grazing over the same fragment of skin. It’s the hand that doesn’t have any rings, and Y/N’s mouth curls up in borderline delirious bliss, teeth unsealed and lips swollen and saliva-daubed. Tiger coaxes a moan when he goes for it a third time. But this time, his hand snakes to palm over the column of her throat and squeeze.

“Fuck, you’re filthy,” Harry tells her, thumb cruising over an inch of skin, “Such a slut for it.”

Her pulse thunders under his grasp. It’s almost like his touch pries the nearly animalistic giggle off her lips. She’s still beaming open-mouthed, and her voice is raw when she beckons, “Yeah—“

And then there’s a ragged gasp and subdued sort of gag, coated with surprise, when Tiger nudges her face forward and unceremoniously shoves his dick back down her throat, his brows pinched.  

“Get that mouth back on my cock.” 

Her hands find his thighs, just wavering over them, curling and unflexing as her eyes squeeze shut. 

“Don’t close your eyes. Look up at me. Look up at me— there you go,” Harry cooes when, despite every instinct that coaxes every muscle in her face to clench and tense, Y/N follows his directions and blinks up at him through a watery sheen. “Shit.”

And then he’s hauling her off and she’s gasping for breath, only for a short moment before he slides back past her jaw until her chin is flush with his sac and he’s pulsing in the warm confines of her mouth. Her lashes flutter. A devious kind of laugh bubbles from him, breathy, and low, and short when the heels of her palms press into the sturdy muscle beneath his laurels. Except this time he doesn’t yank her all the way off for a third time. He holds her there for a second, swearing softly at the view, and then tugs her off until his tip’s on her tongue and pumps back in. It’s a subtle motion — testing, like he’s observing her reaction, really assessing her comfort levels with this. He does it a few more times, as gentle of a motion as it really can be until she squints her eyes shut and muzzles a cough, blinking up at him rapidly through the blur. 

Harry swipes a thumb under her eye, where a rivulet leaks, praising almost in a whisper as she practically vibrates at his feet, “That’s it.” 

Another second to gasp in air, and then he’s fucking her mouth, brushing her gag reflex with every drive forward and every pump out. Y/N sort of loses herself in it — in the fingertips burrowing into her roots, in the huffs and groans that escape him, in the warm muscle beneath her touch, in the way his dick slides down her throat. It’s quite nice. RideTheTiger is fucking her mouth, and it’s nice.

“Look at you,” Harry hums after a while, the hold on the back of her head firm, and she blinks at him all teary-eyed, gagging around him as her chin presses flush with his balls. “So sloppy. Made my nice joggers all wet.” 

Drool pools down her chin, and strings of it dangle from his balls and sully the fabric further. She bats her lashes up at him, and tears slink off from her waterline. Her fingers flex and relax over his thigh, never quite loosening the tension there fully. The man swipes the thumb on his free hand under her eye, where inky black has smudged off from her lashes, and the lewd, left corner of his mouth tips up lopsidedly. 

“You’re such a pretty girl when you’re making a mess,” and then, to nail the demeaning compliment home with the most heady, joyfully smug tone, “Yes you are, little bird.”

His sluggish grin morphs into a borderline pornographic lip-bite then, and he cranes his neck back with a throaty hum, fingers tensing and relaxing, before his digits ultimately tighten in her hair and coax the young woman off. She coughs like she hasn’t breathed in ages, 

Y/N doesn’t know how she gets up to her feet. It’s a lightheaded clamber, coaxed by Harry’s fingers tugging at her hair, his hand on her arm, his definitive, “Get up.” Somehow, though, she manages, despite the fact that her jeans are still half-on, and Harry steadies her and makes her dizzy all at once when his mouth presses hungrily to hers. One hand cradles the side of her neck and the other braces her at the hip. It’s a heated kiss, like Tiger doesn’t mind that her chin is coated with spit, or that the same spit smears over his own jaw as their mouths connect. Y/N nearly trips over her own feet as he walks her, backwards, into the general direction of the bed. The mattress meets the backs of her knees and his hand (which has, since settling on her hip, mingled up her side and cupped over one of her tits) sends her toppling back against the sheets. Harry nearly snickers at her look of indignation. Instead though, he tucks his fingers up under her half-down denim and tugs until her pants are off and she finally, finally has the ability to spread her legs. He tosses those onto the rug, and Y/N watches Harry finish disrobing, kicking the gray sweats into a rumpled pile beside her jeans. 

The camera is still rolling on the dresser, and it’ll keep rolling. It’ll keep rolling when he sinks his face between her thighs, it’ll keep rolling when he pulls the plug out and nudges his fingers in, when he slips his cock into her cunt and then, eventually, switches to her other hole. Or maybe it’ll go in an all different order. Tiger cradles her by the hips and repositions her roughly. The lens doesn’t catch the way she’s all shimmery between her legs with want from its angle, but Harry does, eyes glued there as his fingertips trail featherlight up her thigh and back down. 

A crease works in between his brows like he’s contemplating something, and then he pats the same fragment of flesh he’d been caressing and instructs, “Flip over.” 

Y/N tips over to her side and then rolls onto her tummy, but when she clambers onto her hands and knees Harry beckons, “Where are you going, little bird?” He sighs, warm palm grasping over her ankle and yanking her back towards the edge of the bed, just until Y/N is splayed and forced to shimmy her way back into a pretty arch. “Hm?” 

His hand is still gripped over the joint when the other climbs up the back of her naked thigh, skin on skin petting softly there. “Where are you going, little girl?”  

She’s going to implode. She nearly does when his colossal palms cup either cheek of her backside and spread. He hums like he’s pleased. 

“Which hole should I fuck first…” Harry ponders aloud from behind, but it all feels sort of rhetorical when he nudges over her tightest, little hole, pressing like he’s teasing a breach with the tip of his digit. 

She thinks he must be using his other hand, too, because the pad of his thumb drives a circle over her puffy, spit-slicked clit. The ring of muscle flutters. 

“…Hm?”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shots #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #dom!harry x sub!reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #sub!reader #dom!harry

[backtothefanfiction]

In Your Boss’s Office | Peter Parker Imagine

Summary: When your boyfriend comes to take you home after a late night at the office, he sees an opportunity to send your boss mad.

Warnings: smut, P in V, semi public sex, office sex, cum swallowing, oral (female receiving), dirty talk

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: Okay so I have been trying to get this one finished for a while. This was supposed to be day 5 of Kinktober but we all know that went off the rails. I was gonna turn it into kink til Christmas but that isn’t gonna work out either. So this is me saying that the kink list is getting thrown out the window completely, but I will still write some of the stories as prompts and short imagines as there were a couple I was looking forward to but no idea when they’ll go up. Anyway, this was one of the ideas I was really looking forward to writing so I hope you enjoy!

You had been the only one in the office for at least an hour and a half, despite your boss leaving nearly 3 hours prior. It was dark outside, you were tired, you were missing your man but you knew that if you didn’t get this list for Jameson completed now, you’d all be really behind tomorrow.

There was a sudden ding as the elevator stopped on your floor. Given the time you fully expected it to be the janitor, coming by to give things a clean and empty the waste paper baskets, but you were surprised at the sight of your boyfriend walking towards your desk.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” he asked, “I think the real question is what are you still doing here?”

You had met Peter around 6 months ago now, when you had first taken on the job as J. Jonah Jameson’s assistant after the last one quit on him. He had expected you to also follow suit, he wasn’t exactly known for being the nicest boss after all; but you gave as good as you got and the head of the Daily Bugle admired that. Peter was a freelance photographer, stopping by every now and again with a new batch of photos of Spider-man that always made your boss both froth at the mouth and get literal dollar signs in his eyes.

“What time is it?” you asked, but you already knew.

“It’s time to log off.” he softly chastised and encouraged you.

“Uhh, Pete, I really need to get this done.”

“Fine. You have until I finish putting these photos on his lordship’s desk.” He said, pulling out a manilla envelope full of new pictures of Spiderman.

“Peter, you can’t go in there.” you tried to interject as he began to reach for the door handle to the office.

“Just watch me.” He said, turning the knob, pushing the door open and going in.

“Peter.” you chastise as you get up to follow him and make sure he wasn’t going to touch anything he shouldn’t.

When you got in the room he was already sat behind the desk, lounging back in the large leather swivel chair, swaying side to side. “You know, I see why he likes this office so much now.” he says as his eyes glance over pieces of paper on the desk.

“Come on.” you try to encourage him, “We shouldn’t be in here.”

“Make me.” he challenges with a smirk on his face. You really don’t want to find out what that smirk means, you just want to finish your list of tasks and go home but he does look good sitting behind the desk. His eyes are watching your legs closely as you hesitate in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other in tiny motions. He leans forward placing both of his hands on the desk. “Close the door.” He instructs and you do. “Now come over here.” Your brain knows it’s a bad idea but you do.

He moves the chair back slightly as his hand reaches out to guide you round the back of the desk with him. When you are close enough he turns you and backs you into the desk. You hesitate at first but with further encouragement by his hands and the wicked look in his eye, you sit yourself on top of the desk. He hums slightly as his hands rest on your knees, pulling them open, then using his grip on them, pulls the wheelie chair closer to the desk, leaving you nowhere else to go.

“Peter, what are you doing?” You ask with a shaky breath as he starts to run his hands up your thighs and under your skirt.

“You work too hard for little reward.” He says as his fingertips reach to hook beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Peter!” You interject, trying to push him away but he holds you still.

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” He teases. “He’ll never know.”

“Yes he will.” You try to hold strong, but his fingers are drawing lazy circles on your thighs that are relaxing you and wearing you down.

“But isn’t that more fun. He won’t know it was us, he’ll just come in tomorrow and he’ll know something is off but he won’t be able to put his finger on it.”

“Pete… Pete.” You try to say but your resolve is fading with his touch and when he tries again to pull your underwear down, you don’t stop him.

“Just relax okay. I’ve got you.” He said as he pulled you closer to the end of the desk. “So pretty.” He cooed as he looked up at you.

He pushed your legs up, your feet resting on the arms of the large swivel chair he sat in, as he leant forward, his tongue teasing at your clit, making you squirm. His hands held tighter to your hips, holding you in place as he began to lick through your folds.

“For someone who was putting up a lot of protest, you seem to be awfully wet for me.” He teased with raised eyebrows as his fingers moved to circle at your entrance before slipping inside, his fingers working you open.

“Uhhh, Peter.” You began to pant, as the movement of his fingers pulls tiny whimpers from between your lips.

You watch as his other hand begins to fumble with his belt, the sound of the metal clinking sending another wave of arousal through you. He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, palming his length through his boxers.

Normally Peter would spend ages going down on you, making you cum and soaking his fingers with your slick before he even thought about fucking you, but you didn’t have time. Although it was late and no one else was in the office, the janitor could come up to this floor and walk in at any minute and Peter knew it was taking a lot for you to go through with this without pushing his luck.

“Come here baby.” He said, pulling his length out of his boxers and sliding the chair back slightly.

You happily moved to straddle his thighs. You slowly lowered yourself down on his length. You were so close and he was so deep in this position. It didn’t leave much room for movement, just subtle gyrating, your clit rubbing against the small patch of exposed skin between his jeans and shirt.

It made you so sensitive, your head nuzzling into his neck as you quietly whined and moaned.

“You naughty little thing. See I knew this was what you needed.” Peter said as he slowly thrusted his hips up inside you. It wasn’t his preferred pace but he knew you loved it. To be close to him. To have his cock rubbing against the most sensitive parts of you. To feel every little twitch you made around him. It was intimate. “You gonna come for me?” He asked. He could read your body like a book and knew from just the pitch of your moans alone you were close. “Come on baby. Cum for me.” He encouraged as he guided your hips up and down on his length harder and harder. “Cum for me baby and then I can turn you around and fuck you right over his desk. How does that sound?” You could only moan in response. His words always brought you closer to the edge. “Yeah?” He cooed. “Does that sound good for you? Come on baby. Come on… there it is.” He said as you began to shudder around him, your body collapsing against his chest. “That’s my girl.” He said, but he didn’t give you a moment of rest.

Just as promised he picked you up as he stood, before dropping your feet to the floor. He turned you around, his hand pushing firmly against your back, getting you to bend over your boss’s desk in front of you.

Your face and chest were pushed onto the desk top as Peter took your arms, folding them behind your back and holding them firmly in place with a single hand as he lined himself back up to your entrance with his other.

You let out a loud gasp as he slammed his hips into your ass as he bottomed out inside you. “Oh baby, you look so pretty like this.” He said as he began to snap his hips faster.

You almost completely forgot where you were as the feeling of his cock spearing you open sent shockwaves of pleasure to your core. Your gasps and moans grew louder and louder as you felt yet another climax quickly building inside you. “Fuck, FUCK! Oh my god! Peter.”

“Mmm baby, I love it when you say my name like that.” You could feel his thrusts growing sloppier. You knew he was close, only holding himself together so he could make you cum one last time.

He shifted you both back slightly between thrusts so he could reach his hand around between your legs and started rubbing quick circles around your clit, bringing you to your climax faster. He watched as you screwed up your eyes, your mouth hanging open in a silent oh for just a moment before your orgasm hit and you began to shudder around him once more, your voice finally ringing out into the air of the office.

“That’s it baby.” He said as he removed his hand from between your legs.

You felt him pump one, two, three more times before the removed himself from you, pulling you up off the desk with one arm and encouraging you to turn around and get on your knees in front of him, his other hand pumping his length.

You knelt before him, opening your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out waiting for him to cum. You closed your eyes in anticipation just in case as you listened to him grunt. Then you felt the tip of his cock on the flat of your tongue and his cum burst into your mouth. You shaped your tongue around his length trying to contain as much of it in your mouth as you could.

As you felt him still you opened your eyes to look up at him, giving his length and slit a lick for good measure and he twitched away from you at the sensitivity, You didn’t look away from his eyes as you swallowed his salty cum with a closed lipped smile.

“Fuck, your gorgeous.” He said as he took your face in his hands and bent over to kiss your lips. “Now come on. Pick your panties up off the floor, it’s time to go home.”

You didn’t argue with him. You both put yourselves back together before you left the office. You quickly closed down your computer and you left hand in hand.

When you went back to work the next day your boss’s face was a picture. You watched him closely when he came in. Stepping into his office, you hot on his heels with his morning coffee and a notepad ready to take down his orders for the morning, you saw him pause. His brow furrowed as he looked around the room.

“Everything okay sir?” You dutifully asked.

“Huh?! Yeah!” He suddenly barked not wanting to seem vulnerable. “Yeah.” He looked down at the papers on his desk confused again until he saw the Manila envelope. “When did these get here?” He asked as he sat himself down in his chair and began opening up the photos and scanning through them.

“Uh I think Mr Parker dropped them off last night.” You feigned innocence.

“Really?” Your boss pondered. He suddenly looked up at you as if finally remembering who you were and where he was. “Right. I want Anderson up here stat. I need him in here brainstorming headlines with me to get these out on the front page first thing!” He shouted at you, his hand slamming the photos on the desk as he leaned back and kicked his feet up.

“Yes, sir.”

“And make sure you get finance to send Parker over his money.” He commanded as he picked the photos back up and started looking through them again.

“Is that everything sir?”

“What!? Yes! Of course! Now get out of here!” He barked and you quickly hurried from the room.

As you sat back at your desk you smiled to yourself. Peter had been right, although he knew something was up, your boss didn’t have a clue what had really taken place in his office the night before.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #j jonah jameson #Peter Parker smut #late kinktober

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Halo Pt.2

warnings: less plot, but still plot, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, biting, light blood(play), light hair pulling, body worship, oral(f receiving), light degradation, yandere themes, dub-con, think that's it

summary: in your free time you do freelance writing, doing interviews with people most would consider strand and unusual. when you recognize that one of the regulars in your coffee shop only visits in the evening, you pose the question of where you can interview him, upon his agreement, you realize this is unlike any other interview

a/n: holy shit, i am alive actually. i feel kinda horrible that i last posted in september. life got kinda crazy, i was slammed with uni and work, and had intense writer's block. anyways, i hope those of you who enjoyed the first part enjoy this one even more! i'm not entirely sure how active i'll be this semester, but i'm not going to make any promises lol. as always, i hope you enjoy and have a great day! :D ~nero

word count: 5.4K

Vampire!Seonghwa x female reader

pt.1

Seonghwa looked off to the side, inhaling a calculated breath before he spoke. 

“The nightlife. Where I was before was too prosaic and mundane. It lacked character. But here? There’s a flame that ignites when the sun goes down.” 

You scribbled down his last sentence wanting to maybe use it as the title for the piece when you finished. Looking back up at him, you felt your body relax and suddenly everything felt easy. 

“Where were you before?” 

“Everywhere. I’m a bit of a nomad, you see? I can’t stay chained to one place for too long.” 

“Did you find your last locations to grow boring, or was it something else?” 

“Something else. Rather of my own doing, but needing to keep my needs satiated is a necessity.” 

You paused for a moment and glanced at your notebook littered with questions trying to find the next avenue you’d walk down. You hadn’t been faced with someone so careful in their speech. He was answering your questions, yes, but not in the full detail that you desired. He was making you work. 

“Being a nomad, you must have a flexible job. What do you do for work and what’s your haven for play?” 

A smirk formed on his face, like he knew he was stumping you. Running his fingers through his onyx locks, he went to lick his lips and you noticed the length of one of his canines peeking from behind his upper lip. 

“Ah, yes. For work, I was lucky enough to benefit from years of generational wealth, but I hated the fact of that being my only accolade. So I sought after art. I always rendered an interest in building things so I thought, why not extend that to an artistic field?” 

“What’s your medium?”

“Sculptures and charcoal portraits. I love capturing time in a piece. I don’t know how long this life will grant me so I enjoy partaking in affairs that allow me to immortalize that time. Remind me to show you some of my portraits.” 

Nodding, you remembered the busts you saw when you entered his home, the question crossed your mind if those were his art.

“Those busts that you have in your entryway, did you make those as well?”

“So you really were quite entranced. To answer you, yes, I did create those as well. They’re of my family who have since passed on. I don’t have many left in my life so it aids me in keeping the memory of them alive.” 

Moving your hair out of your face to look at him, you furrowed your brow feeling sorry for him as you processed his statement. 

“Are you all alone out here?”

The concerned look on your face quickly fell to anxiety as you feared you may be prying too much into his personal life. Getting ready to speak again, Seonghwa stopped you with the gentle raise of his hand and smiled. 

“You’re not overstepping any boundaries, my dove. When I agreed to sit with you, pen in hand with the recorder running, I alleviated all forms of privacy for you. You may ask me whatever you feel called to ask. I’m yours for the evening.” 

A soft smile pulled at your lips as you silently acknowledged him, and thanked him for being so tender with you. His velvet voice pulled you from your thoughts. 

“To answer your previous question though, yes, I am all alone. It was lonely at first, but after a while it became comfortable. Perhaps preferred. I did find that recently though, the exigent desire for a partner has been pulling at my heartstrings.” 

“With your interest in the nightlife here, surely it shouldn’t be too hard to find yourself a companion. Not to mention if you’re speaking romantically, I’m sure you’d find yourself plenty of options.” 

You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth, but it was already in the air now and you just had to hope and pray that he’d let it slide.

“What are implying?” 

Of course, he wouldn’t. 

“I’m just saying…that, you know, you are an attractive guy. It seems like you’d have a particularly easy time…weeding through people.” 

“You think I have a lot of suitors?” 

Seonghwa had his arms folded across his chest now, gaining pleasure from making you squirm. 

“I’m saying that I think you’d have a fair amount of people to choose from, not necessarily that they’d be worthy of your time.” 

You brought the pen up to your lips, feeling your anxiety swirl in your body as Seonghwa continued to hanker down on you. You glanced over at your notebook again, seeing what you could ask to divert the subject but before you had the chance to speak, Seonghwa was prying. 

“Worthy of my time?” 

“From first impressions, you seem…difficult to entertain. Not to be impressed by the bare minimum, which if considering this town, there is a lot of.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, smiling without showing his teeth. His aura radiated a slimy smugness that irritated you but also ignited a fire within you. 

“I’d beg to differ. There are a select few I’ve come across. I wouldn’t be so certain in your statement.” 

Your mind was swarmed with questions, most of them centering around who he was entertaining and if you even spared a shot with him. 

“Have you found a lover yet then?”

With Seonghwa still hovering over the desk, he looked so much larger than usual. He commanded even more attention and you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away from his as he stared you down. When he spoke, he raked his eyes over your form and was begging whatever deity was out there that you’d pick up on his hints. 

“I’ve found who I want to be mine, she just doesn’t know it yet. I’ve been leaving her clues, paltry I know, but I beg that she pick up my scent soon.” 

“Like a secret admirer?”

“You can call it that, yes. What I feel for her though is more than what a secret admirer could possess.” 

You felt your heart drop, not even letting the delusion have time to manifest to let you think that this “she” was you. You nodded your head and looked toward your notebook again scanning over your questions to see where you wanted to take the interview next. As you went to look up at Seonghwa again, you noticed that unabated gloss cast over his eyes again. The other thing you noticed was that his eyes seemed to change color. It was hard to tell for sure in the dim lighting of the study, but you swore you were seeing flecks of red in his irises. 

As you inhaled to speak, you felt your body freeze and an indistinguishable tingle ran rampant through your limbs. Panic registered across your pupils as you tried to move but soon recognized that you were glued to the chair. Your limbs were attached to the wood of the desk as if your skin were made to melt into the surface. Suddenly as you looked at Seonghwa, you realized that you recognized this feeling, the energy that was emanating across from you. It was all too familiar.

It wasn’t sleep paralysis. It was him.

“Ahh, yes it was, my dove. I’m disheartened that it took you this long. Thought the journal would’ve been clue enough.” 

Feeling that static in your fingers trail up your arm and down through your body, you felt control over yourself again. You pressed your back flesh against the chair, a feeble attempt at creating space between you two. Your vision was unfocused for a moment and in the blur created, you understood that the man across you was the figure in the corner of your room last night. Your breath quickened with fear, but something else mixed in with your emotions that you couldn’t quite place yet. 

“Y-you we’re in my room last night?… Why?” 

Seonghwa stood up slowly, his hands planted firmly on the desk. His frame which was at first sleek and inviting was now imposing and ravening. His eyes were boring into you making you feel so minuscule under his gaze. His tone was low, almost near a whisper, but his next words sent a chill down your spine. 

“Because I can’t bear to leave you alone.”

Your eyes blew wide in panic, fear present in your features. You wondered how you could find a way out of this, a way to remedy the situation but you felt completely and utterly trapped. You looked behind you to the door of the study and defeat enveloped you as you came to the conclusion that any attempt you made to escape would prove to be fruitless. As you returned your gaze to Seonghwa, he was shaking his head, a grin cast on his face. 

“How could you even think about leaving so early when we haven’t finished the interview yet, y/n? I’ve looked forward to this all day, I’d hate for it to end so soon.” 

Seonghwa furrowed his features into a pout, persuading you to swallow your fear and sit forward. Maybe, if you indulged in him he’d let you leave. As Seonghwa sat back in his seat, a new wave of questions ran through your brain. Whether or not you’d include this in the posted interview, you needed closure for yourself. Asserting yourself in your spot, you sat taller, your gaze piercing his as he did to you moments before. Your voice carried a dominance that hadn’t been present all evening. 

“How long have you been following me?” 

“Fiesty are we?”

“Hwa, how long have you been on my tail?”

“My dove, I’m disappointed. How could you not realize all those rotten feelings you felt when you stepped out of your car were because of me?” 

His face was sickening, he was enjoying this. The smile that painted his face was sardonic and it made acrimony bubble within you. All those weeks where you felt like you were going brainsick were because of him. 

I can’t believe him right now

“Better start believing y/n. At least you have the comfort of knowing you’re not demented.” 

“Stop doing that!” 

It was freaking you out that nearly every thought you had about him he had a response to. He was inside your head and you couldn’t place how he was doing it. 

“Doing what, darling?” 

“That! Being in my head! How are you doing that?!” 

Your fear was making you hostile and agitated. You felt completely out of control and you hated every second of it. You were in a stranger’s house, agreeing to come based on the hopes that you’d get something out of this and now you were shackled in this room with a stalker. You stared down at your notebook trying to fit the pieces of all of this together. The thought finally dawned on you that he knew where you lived, and it was no mere coincidence that the journal you found at your front door perfectly matched the pen he gave you. Your eyes landed on a bookshelf behind you and you noticed a horrifying similarity between what was sitting on the shelves and what was resting underneath your hands.

“Ask me.” 

Your head whipped to Seonghwa’s voice, not daring to disrespect him for you were fearful of the consequences. 

“Ask you what?” 

“Ask me how I know your thoughts.”

You inhaled a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the answer you were about to be given. Sighing you looked straight into his eyes, and that’s when you noticed the color of them changed. A deep carmine colored his irises now. Your eyes squinted, trying to understand his motive now. 

“How do you know what I’m thinking.” 

He inhaled a breath, mocking you. He smiled at you, something sickeningly sweet about it. 

“Vampirism. Vampirism is how I know. Vampirism is also how I’ve been able to stalk you without the thought of me ever crossing your mind. It’s the reason why I was in your bedroom, why I could never leave your thoughts, why you were entranced by me. By design, you were meant to be allured by me and you were. Which is why you’re sitting across from me.” 

You were stunned. You always entertained the idea of supernatural creatures, but never did you think that were actually real. Never in your lifetime did you think that you’d be face to face with a vampire and with that knowledge you were now more fearful of your situation. Your next words flew from your mouth without any chance to filter. 

“What do you feed on?” 

Seonghwa leaned forward and smiled, the tip of one of his fangs peeking out onto his bottom lip. 

“Whatever I can get my hands on. I have to say though, the more fear that exudes from my dinner makes the taste that much more delectable. And you, my sweet y/n, are absolutely intoxicating right now. Almost as sweet as last night. Gods, it took everything in me not to devour you then.” 

You held your composure, but something stirred in your lower stomach. Radiating heat between your thighs. 

Arousal. 

You were feeling aroused by his words, and you were ashamed by it. Here you were, at the mercy of a stranger and yet, you were aroused by the transparency of his truths. You tried to push the feeling to the back of your mind, but something was bringing your innermost fantasies about Seonghwa forward. His eyes were indulging in you in sheer gluttony, looking at you like prey and you couldn’t help but think that he was holding back on what his inner monologue consisted of. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” 

You leaned forward, asserting yourself now that a lustful wave crashed over your body. 

“So that’s what gets you off? Carnal urges, is it?” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“While true, it is what I heard prior to you speaking.” 

Rolling your tongue across your teeth, you were through with the antics. 

“What’s on your mind now, Hwa?” 

He smiled flashing his teeth, his fangs on full display. 

“Truthfully, I’m running through all the ways I want to consume you. To make you mine. And it’s becoming quite painful to ignore.” 

You wanted to call his bluff, to catch him off guard even with the disadvantage of him invading the privacy of your mind. You stood up from the chair, the legs creating a painful scratching sound across the wood. You walked around the edge of the desk and positioned yourself in front of him, gently laying your hand on the table in front of his, your fingertips barely touching. Leaning down, you stared into his piercing garnet eyes damning yourself to cosset in the feelings that were licentious in nature. Wetting your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, you felt your eyes blow in temptation and you knew he was aware of every second of it. 

“Then do something about it. Live up to this lavish vampiric character you’ve laid out for me.”

With the passing of a second, the roles of power drastically shifted. His body moved with a swiftness that you hadn’t experienced and before you had a chance to register what happened, you were caged underneath his frame with your hips nailed against the side of the desk. His slender hand snaked its way to your neck, wrapping his deft fingers around your face and forcing you to look at him. 

“Careful, pet. I don’t think you understand the gravity of your words.” 

Eyes darkening with lust, you smirked at him feeling a sense of power as you watched him lose control in front of you. Moving your body to sit on top of the desk, you rolled your neck, exposing your most vulnerable space of skin to him.

“You reek of luxuria, have you any shame?” 

“Not any more than you.” 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you trailed your hand up to the nape of his neck, goosebumps forming in its wake. You curled your fingers into the hair resting on his neck feeling fulfilled as you watched his body shiver in unabashed desire for you. His chest heaved heavy breaths as his lust for you was becoming harder to control. Seonghwa let his head fall into the conjunction of where your neck and shoulder met, his breath creating an intense humidity that only aided your arousal. 

Pulling at his hair, you positioned him to look at you head-on. His eyes were blown wide, the red of his irises nearly covered up by the black of his pupils. His breathing was still heavy and you could feel a small bulge prodding at your inner thigh. Rolling your hips into his, you watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, only the white of his sclera showing. As he breathed out, a small whimper was swallowed in his throat. Pulling at his hair, he opened his eyes to look at you. 

“Devour me, Seonghwa.” 

Any suppression of his feelings turned into a zealous carnal display of affection. His lips were on yours in a second, hot and impassioned. His hands roamed over the exposed flesh of your thighs, indenting the skin with his fingers each time he squeezed. Your head was squirming with floating ideas and wrestling with the plain fact that you were getting exactly what you wanted. 

As Seonghwa swiped your bottom lip, silently asking for permission, you parted your mouth just enough to grant your tongues the freedom to fight for dominance. With one roll of your tongue into his mouth, the side of your tongue was swiped by the point of his fang. It sent a chill down your spine but excited you even further. Feeling bold, you closed the space of your lips and bit down on his bottom lip, pulling away from him as you watched him with hooded eyes. 

Letting your hands snake down his torso, you hooked your fingers into his belt loops pulling him closer to your clothed center. Gently rolling your hips, you were thankful that you wore a skirt as your aching cunt ghosted over his jean covered cock. Looking up at him, your eyes were blown and you could feel the sexual adrenaline raging through your body. 

“I want you, Seonghwa. I want you to make me yours.” 

Seonghwa looked down at you, a knowing smirk painting his mouth as he gingerly put his finger under your chin. 

“Aww, how sweet. But darling, you were mine the moment I laid my eyes upon you, don’t you get that? I just needed that sweet invitation to fall from your pretty lips.” 

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa’s hands found their way underneath the fabric of your shirt. His hands were like ice, but the contrasting temperature soothed the raging heat dancing across your skin. There was an uncontrollable need and you felt like you couldn��t get close enough to him. Your body kept rolling into his and you couldn’t quell the small moan that escaped your throat. 

“Excited, hmm?” 

Your eyes were pleading, needing to feel something other than his hands roaming your body. 

“Do something, please. I’m begging you.” 

Seonghwa brought his face to the side of yours so that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. He was breathing slowly, almost methodically and it made your heartbeat race. When he spoke, your eyebrows furrowed at his lower tone.

“Just something?”

You mewled at him, tired of the teasing, but what he did next was not what you expected. One of his fangs made contact with the sensitive skin of your neck and you moaned out as the tip of it impaled your skin. Seonghwa pulled away, his tongue swiping at the tiny drop of crimson staining his tooth. His eyes darkened as he smirked at you and indulged in your metallic taste. You felt him roll his hips into yours, his cock growing harder as he imagined how it would feel to feed off of your naked body. 

Growing impatient from the wanton ache that settled in your cunt, you pushed Seonghwa away from you and your body off of the desk. Making yourself as big as possible, you guided his body backward until his knees met the lip of the couch in the study. As his form gracefully plopped into the cushions, you tore your top off throwing it on the floor behind you. You straddled Seonghwa’s thighs, grinding your hips down into him as you made contact with his lap. You cupped his face as you let your body control your actions rather than your mind. Pulling him close, your lips danced a dangerous waltz of spit and tongue as he began to feel dizzy from the intensity.

Seonghwa was enjoying this obscene side of you, his nimble fingers gripping at your skin any chance he got. Pulling away from his lips, his mouth chased yours not ready for the kiss to end so soon. Placing your hands on his chest, you allowed yourself the time to admire his form. His perfectly sculpted body that was encased so delicately by the mesh he wore. You sucked your bottom lip behind your teeth as you gripped the fabric into your fist grinding down into his erection. 

His hips rolled up into yours and his breathing quickened as he devoured you with his eyes. 

“Enjoying yourself?” 

“More than you know.” You panted out

Seonghwa patted your thigh and nodded his chin behind you. 

“Up.”

You pushed yourself off of him, suddenly hyper-aware of your insecurities. They didn’t have long to manifest as his voice pulled you from your thoughts. He grabbed your hand leading you out of the study, down the hallway, and guided you into his bedroom. 

“Never. Think such dreadful things about yourself, my dove.”

Seonghwa gently placed you down on the edge of his opulent bed, his bedroom far too extravagant for you to fully appreciate right now. Nodding his head behind you, you understood his cue to scoot back and your eyes never left him as he crawled over your body. 

“It’s simply just, if I’m going to ravage you in the ways I’ve dreamt so vividly, it wasn’t going to happen on that vapid couch.” 

He placed gentle kisses on your jawline, nipping slightly at the skin near your earlobe. Seonghwa then dragged his nose down the valley of your breasts and stopped at the hemline of your skirt. The heat and your arousal turn near suffocating under the constraints of your panties. 

“You deserve to be tasted, worshipped. To be given a night of passion. And I, my sweet y/n, am going to give you all of that and more.” 

His voice turned more gruff the more his sentence trailed on. What you failed to realize was that due to the angle he was at, your arousal was like his personal parfum and it was dreadfully intoxicating. He acted with no haste as he dragged your skirt down your legs, taking your underwear with it. You felt embarrassment quickly wash over your body as you felt the stick of your arousal stretch between your needy lips and the ruined cotton. 

Now fully exposed to him, you had nowhere to hide and it excited you. He pressed his nose against your clit, the action sending a savage bolt of lust through your body. Your body shivered as he took a deep inhale of your scent, his tongue following soon behind with a flattened lick across your folds. The moan that left you was covetous and echoed off the walls of his bedroom. 

Seonghwa lapped at your folds like a ravenous dog and your sounds only egged him on. Your hips were riding his face, unable to get enough of him. When your hand found refuge in his inky locks, he moaned into your pussy, the vibrations bringing you to the precipice of your orgasm. With one hand gripping at his hair and the other fisting the sheets, you were moaning like a rapacious whore. 

“Hwa, fuck! Hwa I’m gonna cum!” 

Seonghwa gripped his hands tighter around your hips, shoving your cunt as close as possible to his mouth. Seonghwa focused on your clit, fluttering his tongue against your sensitive bud before sucking your orgasm right out of you. 

“Fuckfuckfuck!” 

Seonghwa didn’t give you a chance to ride out your first orgasm, instead, he continued sucking on your tender rosebud and let the aftershock of your second climax wash over you. Your body shook in intervals of vibrating lust. Chillis littering your body as you relished in the feeling he just bestowed upon you. Lifting himself from between your legs, he hovered over you with a satisfied smirk plastered on his lips. Soon his lips were on yours again and the tangy taste of yourself swept across your tastebuds. Pulling away from you, he began unbuttoning his shirt. 

“You taste even better than what I dreamt of.” 

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that he wanted you just as bad and your mouth moved quicker than your mind. 

“Y-you’ve dreamt of me?” 

An airy chuckle left his throat. 

“Darling, if you question my likening for you one more time tonight, I’m going to have to chain you to my bed and fuck any trace of doubt out of you.” 

Your hole squeezed around nothing and courage found itself in you again. Flipping your bodies over, you sat on top of his lap, your arousal spreading all over the top of his jeans. Undoing his belt, the sexual tension was fervid and it was as if you couldn’t move your hands fast enough. His cock was straining against the layers of fabric and you needed it straining against your walls. 

Pulling his jeans down his legs with his underwear, you knelt down, prepared to offer up all your oral skills known to man. Before you could ghost your lips over his tip, Seonghwa’s hand found your chin and titled you to look up at him. 

“There will be plenty of times for you to taste me, tonight though is about our collective ecstasy. To lose ourselves in one another.” 

His hand pulled you closer to him and you straddled your legs over his. His leaky and libertine cock teasing your entrance as you hovered over him. His hair lay disheveled across his face all thanks to your hands and he somehow looked even more desirable than before. With puffy lips and heavy eyes, you needed him in every way imaginable. 

Lowering yourself down onto his cock, you weren’t prepared for how big he’d feel as you took him in inch by inch. He thickened as you reached his base and made you feel so full. As you bottomed out on him, both of you moaned in harmonious synchrony that made you wish you could have it on repeat. 

“Hwa~! You’re so—so big.” 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you squeezed his length inside of your velvety walls. You placed your hands on his shoulders needing something to ground yourself on. Seonghwa’s hands purchased themselves on your hips awaiting your movements. 

“Call me that again.” 

You rolled your hips, your walls fluttering as you looked down at him. 

“Hwa~” 

You let your forehead rest against his as your body began to ride his perfect cock. Your moans creating the quintessential licentious atmosphere. 

“Hwa, baby…you feel so good.” 

Your mind was racing, not really paying attention to the words that left your mouth. But you wished you did. 

In seconds, the use of the pet name rendered you at his mercy. Only for a moment did his cock leave your seraphic cunt as your bodies were flipped once again. Seonghwa entered you with such a force that you could only describe as concupiscent and raw. Your nails immediately dug themselves into his back and the sounds that left him were more obscene. 

“Oh, God!”

“God is nowhere in this room, nor will he ever be, Pet.”

His moans were tantalizing, hypnotizing you even more so under his spell. His thrusts were deep and calculated, abusing your G-spot with every hit. If God wasn’t in this room, all that Seonghwa was making you feel definitely felt like it. You’d never felt euphoria like this before, it was sinful in every sense of the word and made it feel like there truly was a reason for Him to have died for our sins. Feeling a pool of heat begin to settle near the bottom of your stomach, you wrapped your legs around his waist caging him to you. 

“Y/nnn, I can’t hold myself back much longer.” 

As your walls fluttered around him one more time you shook your head, your voice coming out with more air than you anticipated. 

“Me n-neither.” 

You kissed him again, impassioned and frenzied. Panting against his lips, your nails found solace in his back again. His breath was creating humidity in your neck and you enjoyed every second of it. Looking into his eyes, there was more swimming in them than just lust. 

“I want all of you. I want to feel every part of you Hwa. I need you. I need you so bad, H~wa!” 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your nails dug deep crescents into his skin. As you begged him for all he had to give he did just that as his mouth snuck its way to your neck and his fangs sunk into your skin. 

The feeling of the puncture was just what you needed to peer over the horizon of your orgasm and crash into the sea of its entirety. Seonghwa was still pumping his hard cock into you and then you felt a familiar warmth flood your walls. Your body squirmed underneath him and slowly your vision began to blur. Before you had the chance to completely lose consciousness, you watched Seonghwa slice his tooth into his wrist and felt the crimson drain over your lips as he pressed his wrist to your mouth. 

“Drink, my sweet dove.” 

His voice was so sweet. Like a siren’s as you drifted into a slumber that was filled with nothing but pleasure. 

~*~

When you awoke, you were still lay in his massive bed, but your body was covered in a black silk nightgown and you smelled faintly of sandalwood and frankincense. You turned your head to the left and then to the right only to find that the bed was empty. 

Where did he go? 

You pushed yourself up to sit in the bed only to be met with the worst headache in your life. It felt like your entire body was pounding in pain and the drumming of it only kept getting louder. Wincing, you heard the handle click open on the bedroom door, revealing Seonghwa with an assortment of food, water, and a glass of red liquid. Wine maybe? 

“I could hear you worrying from across the house. Trust, I’ll never be far from you. Now—I know you’re probably in a decent amount of pain right now, but it’ll soon fade in the next few days. Your body can still take normal food just not in large quantities. Here.” 

His voice trailed off as he tore a piece of the croissant laying on one of the few small plates on the tray. Holding it up, he raised his eyebrows encouraging you to open your mouth. Obliging, you gently took the piece of bread from him, chewing slowly as you tried to make sense of your reality. 

“Did you…did you turn me?” 

“Yes.” 

You nodded. 

“So that means, I’ll be like this forever? Like you?…With you?” 

You saw something like fear flash in his eyes for a moment. Or maybe it was regret?

“Yes. And if you’d like to spend your days with me then it does seem that way my sweet dove. If you feel otherwise I will not hold you back. Although, I will admit I will have a hard time staying away from you.” 

He smiled, almost jokingly in a way that softened your heart. 

This must be who he is behind that mask

“Forever with you doesn’t sound so bad.” 

You blinked up at him, a smile spreading across your own face. 

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

taglist: @blackswann-53098 @tunaasan @bellamuerte1987 @seonghwasstar

#ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa fanfic #vampire seonghwa #ateez fanfic

[shankschewtoy]

can I have a shy yet a very good drawer GN!Reader who still hasn’t confessed their feelings X Law, Sanji, and Zoro?

Much platonic love And a happi day/night to you! ✨😀

a/n - awww this is so cute anon 💜💜 much love to you as well :)

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, none

- Zoro is on the shyer side as well, so you both can enjoy some pretty comfortable silences (he’s sleeping)

- he won’t ever admit it.. but he really likes it when you just sit by him while he trains just to keep him some company

- he wouldn’t enjoy anyone else but you, you’re like a little anchor for him to remind him that someone’s always there for him

- you’re an artist, he knows that VERY well. He’s peeked at a couple of your sketches of chopper and Robin, let’s just say he’s very impatiently waiting for his

- pls you ended up sketching Sanji first and he saw that and almost crumpled it up

- didn’t want to ruin or waste your beautiful talent tho

- one day, when he was training, you saw him lifting his weights per usual, swinging his katana, as well as squat jumping and all that

- he looked- unusually perfect today (not that he didn’t before) but- his expression, as well as his figure was almost picturesque

- you started sketching almost immediately, not even knowing your hand could move that fast. You were scribbling so intensely that the lead broke several times, much to your disdain

- “Y/n can you hand me the towel.”

- ….

- “Hello?????”

- he ended up walking over there while you were entranced in your drawing, finally finishing a rough sketch of the quite beautiful “model” zoro

- he saw it and had trouble keeping his jaw from dropping

- he walked back in front of you, surprising you when he threw an eraser at your forehead to snap you out of it

- “Look, this pose is better right?”

- you closed your sketchbook almost immediately.

- oh shit, he saw it

- “make sure my biceps look big please.”

- “I’M NOT A FREELANCER.”

- Law is a man of very few words, and when he speaks they’re almost always very negative or pessimistic

- but he can never seem to say anything negative about you or else I’d beat his ass

- he knows you’re an artist, and that you mainly just like to draw in your alone time, it’s a nice private activity

- mans a stalker

- will literally find the perfect window to your room just to take a peek at your drawings

- why are they all of Bepo and not him

- EVEN SHACHI GOT A DRAWING? TF?

- stormed off like a little baby 💀

- as you can see, he doesn’t get jealous easily

- he hasn’t confessed to you, but it was extremely obvious to the entire crew…

- you two always had tea together in the morning, sat together in down time, went over plans, and even talked normally together (which he literally never does)

- but- you’re lowkey oblivious asf so you don’t pick up the cues 🥰

- you two were drinking tea together, bright and early as he read the newspaper, and you took out your sketchbook

- the rays of sun coming through the tinted windows of the polar tang lit up his tan, cool toned skin perfectly

- he didn’t have his hat on to cover any of his scraggly features. The bags under his eyes, his intense gray eyes, sharp jawline, goatee, everything about him was accentuated in the light

- you started to draw this very bigass crush of yours in the most detailed way possible

- the silence was almost too peaceful for Law, part of him wanted to initiate a normal conversation, maybe- “how are you today?” But the poor guy was too nervous to talk around you

- he peeked over your shoulder to see you furiously adding details to his drawing

- damn he looked good- did he look like that????

- man thought he was so ugly 💀

- hey maybe let’s give y/n a compliment right? That’s the normal thing to do!

- he had a tint of pink on his cheeks, and couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Why are my eye bags so big.”

- law 💀

- GOD FUCKING DAMMIT I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY THAT - law having and existential crisis

- Corazon be disappointed up in heaven 💀

- “because you have ginormous eyebags???”

- …

- watch him wear concealer now 😭😭😭

a/n - I loved this an ungodly amount lmao

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #anime hcs #trafalgar d water law #roronoa zoro #law one piece #law x reader #zoro #pirate hunter zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro fluff #zoro roronoa x you #one piece zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro headcanons #zoro one piece #law x y/n #law x you #one piece law #surgeon of death #trafalgar law #law op #law headcanons

[nanato04]

Thought instead of just reblogging everything, i will add some of my own works too <3

P.s. shanks has one arm here

Word count: 7750

You can read it on my Ao3 page:

Or

You’re a fucking tease, you know that?

You were the latest member of the Red Hair pirates. You were quite the feisty one when the captain, Shanks, saw you for the first time. Being from a town where crime and murder was rampant, you grew up to be a very combative person. You met Shanks in a bar. While you were downing beer after beer, a bunch of no-goods came up to you and asked how much you charge for a night. You didn’t really get bothered by them and plainly said you were not in that field of work. But they didn’t seem like the type to listen and they started getting too handsy with you.

Shanks was sitting a few tables away witnessing this, he was blissfully eyeing your body while the bunch of fools came and interrupted. And just when he almost got up to defend you, you already got to beating the shit out of them with whatever came to your hand. You bashed one with a bar stool, broke a bottle on another guy’s face, gonged a man’s head with your head and repeatedly stomped his balls. Later when you were done bashing them you turned back to see a red-haired man and assumed that he was one of them. You threw a punch at him but he blocked it by effortlessly holding your fist with his hand.

“Cool down, tiger,” he said with a smirk.

“Who the fuck are you?,” you snarled while snatching your fist away from his hold.

“I’m Shanks, captain of my pirate crew. Nice to meet you,” he said with a toothy smile.

You then assumed he wasn't a part of that handsy group you just beat down.

“Oh. Well. I didn’t know that, sorry for throwing a punch at you. Now leave me alone,” you went back to your seat and continued drinking.

Shanks laughed loudly and he wanted to pursue you more.

“Hey, you didn’t introduce yourself,” he leaned on the bar counter, coming a little closer to you.

“Why should I?”

“No reason, just curious about you,” he said slyly. And it was kinda working on you.

You weren’t approached like this before, and he seemed like a nice guy. So you thought of entertaining this conversation a little.

“Name’s Y/N. I live here,” you said plainly, you didn’t maintain any eye contact.

“Ooo that’s a pretty name! Say, what do you do for a living?” He questioned. His strong presence made you feel a little intimidated, but you weren’t scared of him.

You gave him a side-eye contemplating whether or not you should tell him more about yourself. You totally ignored his exposed chest and abs from that half-way buttoned white shirt.

“Mmm. I do freelancing. I can fix things like machines and vehicles. Aside from that, I do other odd jobs too. Honestly, I don’t understand what I do for a living,” you said, slapping yourself in your head for talking too much.

He was silent and he listened to you. You got a little uncomfortable with how he just didn’t say anything so you chugged your remaining beer and got up from your seat.

You took a long exhale and said, “Alright, I’ll leave now. Goodluck with whatever endeavor you have going on.”

Just when you started walking out Shanks called you.

“Hey Y/N.”

You looked back to see him facing you.

He gave you a smile and said, “Join my crew!”

Your eyebrows shot up and you put your hand on your hip, intrigued at his proposal.

“Now why should I do that?” You sassed.

“You’re strong, I like ya! Plus I will keep you fed and you will have a warm bed to sleep on,” he candidly said.

You pouted your plump lips, thinking about this offer. He never broke eye-contact with you and there was thick tension between you two. Well, you’d have food to eat and a nice place to sleep. It would also be way more fun than the boring life you have going on in this island.

“I-,”

Yasopp cuts you off and yells from the faraway table, “OUR CAPTAIN REALLY GOT THE HOTS FOR YA WOMAN!” And all of the Red Hair pirates started laughing and hollering.

Shanks was flustered and gritted his teeth, making a mental promise to drown Yasopp later.

You barked out a laugh so big that you were in tears. You said between laughing, ambiguous words slurring out of your mouth, “I guess I’ll take you up on that offer, Captain!”

Shanks too broke out into a laugh, his cheeks had a light tinge of red on them.

“Sweet! Yasopp come here I wanna tell you something,” Shanks called him out sweetly, Yasopp tried fleeing but Benn and Roux held his hands and legs so he couldn’t move. Everyone including you laughed as Shank went towards his table as he cracked his knuckles.

___

Your new pirate-life was a hundred times better than your life in your hometown. You were liked by the entire crew and you enjoyed everyone’s company. You were also the only woman in the red hair crew but that didn’t bother you much since everyone was respectful and nice to you. At times you helped around with cooking and cleaning. You loved playing cards with Roux and Yasopp. Benn was a real good friend to you and he would always take your side when you bantered with your fellow crew members.

The catch here though was, you barely gave any attention to you captain and that always made him envious of his mates who always got your complete attention. Of course, you obeyed his orders and all but, you intentionally liked to tease him by not talking to him.

Shanks loved watching you. Regardless of the petty game you’re playing with him, he loved to observe you to see what all you’re up to. You were always in your black tank top and olive green shorts, exposing your thick and strong thighs. He would sometimes even take his time to count all the stretch marks you have, he has half the mind to graze his hand over your thighs and squeeze them but, he will work his way to there one day.

One day you jumped up to reach something and it made your butt wobble, you refused to take anyone’s help but at the same time you just couldn’t reach the jar you really wanted. Shanks was passing by the kitchen and he saw your struggle, he thought that was a nice chance to get closer to you but before he even made it to you Benn was there to assist you.

“Hey Benn! lift me up,” you asked your friend.

“Hmm? Aight,” he accepted your request and effortlessly lifted you up, his hands squeezing into your waist. You then looked out the kitchen to make eye-contact with your captain. You gave him a smirk and the red-haired man shook his head and huffed. You finally got hold of your jar. He put you down and you thanked him. He patted your upper back and walked away. You leaned on the counter and took a spoon and scooped up the jam in the jar. After witnessing all this Shanks still came inside the kitchen and stood in front of you. You saw him come closer to you so you put the spoon in your mouth, licking the jam off of it.

“What brings you here, cap’n?” you asked as you went for another scoop and just when you were about to put it in your mouth, Shanks grabbed your wrist and twisted the spoon towards his mouth and he ate the jam off, licking the spoon, all while keeping an eye contact with you.

“Just wanted some jam,” he said. He was so close to you that your bust was almost touching his chest. There was impenetrable tension between you too that was broken off by Yasopp yelling your name.

“Y/N!!! I SEE AN ISLAND COME HERE!!!”

“I’M COMING!” you yelled back. Shanks didn’t budge though. Your eyes darted towards his lip that had a speck of jam on the side. You brushed your tongue on his lower lip, Shanks was curiously watching you. You then wiped away that small bit of jam and licked your thumb, intentionally going in deep. He whistled at you as you shoved the jam jar on his chest and he held it. You smirked and walked off, he gladly watched you go. Once you were gone he covered his face with his palm and groaned. You will really be the death of him.

___

The Red Hair pirates had just landed on an island. It was a long journey for everyone. They landed on a very small, sparsely populated island and it was very inviting. All your crewmates had dispersed, some were buying food, some were hitting the nearest bar, some went exploring. While you, on the other hand, had an evil idea.

With whatever pocket money you had, you went to buy yourself something nice to wear. You tried a lot of dresses and then found a real nice dress. It was a black floral printed dress. It had a flowy skirt and was backless too, exposing the big scorpion tattoo you had covering your entire back, the tail of the scorpion ending tight above your intergluteal cleft. You twirled in front of the mirror, the skirt flew high enough just to give a teasing view of your ass. You were beaming with anticipation to do what you were about to do

Sweet.

___

Shanks and his mates were in the beach bar, it was a big open space with a bamboo roof. It was around 7pm and the sun had already set. The entire had a deep yellow glow with all the halogen bulbs at all the corners. When you entered the bar everyone’s jaws almost hit the floor. This was the first time they saw you in a dress, and you were in an enticing one too. You had all sorts of compliments getting showered on you along with whistles coming right at you.

You went to the bar counter and drank a big jug of ale for the liquid courage. Your back was faced towards where Shanks was sitting. The man was whipped. He kept quiet though, he didn’t give you any compliment, maybe this was his own way of playing with you. The captain watched you, how your back flexed as you moved. How your ass was flush against the seat. How short your dress was. Yasopp saw his captain’s attention towards you and he said, “I’m shocked how you still didn't ask her out yet.”

Shanks laughed and shook his head, “I’m loving the chase though.”

The sniper sighed and continued his conversation with Roux who was munching on a lamb leg and eagerly listening to him.

The bar then played a slow, sensual song. This was the perfect chance to fuck with the captain. You got off your seat and walked towards your captain’s table. Just when everyone thought you would approach Shanks, you set your hand on Benn’s shoulder and asked,

“Hey Benn, this is my song, wanna dance with me?”

You could see everyone’s eyes almost pop off their skulls, no one saw this coming. Shanks was fidgeting with Benn’s lighter, spinning it in between his fingers. You were really testing his patience.

Benn set his cigarette down and said, “You sure?”

“Yeah, come on!” you raised your hand, indicating for him to hold it.

He held your hand and got up. When he turned back to look at his mates he just shrugged.

“Can’t miss the chance to dance with a lady.”

You got him closer, and set his hand on your waist. You wrapped one of your hands around his neck and laced your other hand’s finger into his. There was hardly any space between you two and your tits were flush against his chest. Benn didn’t know what was going on but he was enjoying this sexy dance with you already. You slowly swayed with him along the rhythm.

Shanks’ pupils darkened and he leaned back in his seat. His gaze never left you. He wasn’t mad at Benn. Because who would deny a chance to dance with a gorgeous woman like you? But it really should've been him instead of Benn, with you, dancing slowly, maybe even taking it to the bedr-

Your tattooed back was facing Shanks, he could see Benn’s hand placed on your hips, his calloused big palms pressing into your plush skin. You grabbed Benn’s head from behind and brought his head closer to your neck. You then whispered something into his ear to which he reacted with a wide smirk and gave you a nod.

He then shoved your waist closer to his groin and you grinded on him. Both of you had breathtaking chemistry during the entire dance. His hand roamed all over your back, he didn’t touch your ass though. You swayed your wide hips and went lower and lower, your face dangerously close to Benn’s clothed manhood. Under the low-light your sweat sheened skin glowed and the big scorpio tattoo you had was moving like it was your spine. He then got you up and twirled you, your skirt rising high enough for Shanks to see the beauty marks on your upper thighs. Shanks was really at his limit at this point, everyone else was hooting and whistling at you two. You both ended the dance when Benn dipped you really low, holding up one of your thighs. His entire palm held your thigh with such grip that it left a dark imprint.

He then lifted you up as the song ended, both of you were pretty sweaty and you thanked Benn by kissing him on his cheek. He would be lying if he said he didn’t get hard during the whole dance sesh, though he knew you were doing this just to get a rise of Shanks. He wouldn’t mind being your partner in crime again though.

Benn went back to his seat. “You lucky bastard,” Yasopp told him.

“Fuck you man,” Shanks laughed threw Benn lighter on his face. Ofcourse Shanks knew this was just one of your ways to brainfuck him.

When he was searching for you, he found you near the bar stool, all alone.

He got up with an excuse to order more drinks. Shanks stood very close to you and told the bartender his order. You were casually sipping on your cocktail, playfully ignoring him.

“You’ve put on quite the show, huh,” he remarked.

“Benn’s a great dance partner,” you replied.

“Since when do you wear dresses like this?” he said as he eyed your neck, his gaze carefully observing the beginning and the end of your tattoo.

“Why? You don’t like it?” you asked, but before he even answered you got up and slipped a hotel room key card in his shirt pocket. You placed your hand on his bare chest and whispered in his ear, “Give this key to Benn, will ya?” You then bit the tip of his ear, earning a breathy exhale from him.

“Sure,” he said, and you smiled at him and walked away to the hotel.

Shanks went to his table to grab his coat while half of his mates were passed out and some were still drinking.

“I’m heading out,” Shanks said, desperation drenched in his voice. Benn understood the scene and he nodded.

___

It was a cheap motel near the bar. The whole building was made out of wood. When Shanks walked in, he was met by a receptionist who immediately got up and said, “Sir, are you headed towards room 104 by any chance?”

Shanks raised his eyebrow and answered, “Yeah. Why?”

“Uhh, I’m so sorry I’m afraid to say this but you don’t match the description Ms. Y/N gave so you can’t go in,” the poor receptionist mustered the courage to say.

“Hah? What did she say?” Shanks asked with a puzzled expression.

“‘Only allow the man who has long black hair with a big gun with him to come inside. Don’t allow anyone else, especially a tanned man with red hair.’ These were her exact words, sir. Please don’t go or else I'll get beaten up,” said the scared man.

Shanks barked out a laugh and shoved the receptionist’s face out of his way. He ignored all of his cries, amused at your silly games.

He was standing in front of room 104 and went in without knocking. The moment he entered he was shoved to the wall, invited by a sharp blade to his neck. You were dangerously close to his face, he smirked and looked down at you, who wore a bathrobe now.

“You’re not Benn,” you remarked.

“Nope, I’m your captain,” he played along with you.

You shoved your knife more into his neck, even a tiny bit of more pressure would cut into his skin. He hissed in pain but was loving every bit of it.

“Not outside the ship, you’re not. Get the fuck out of my room and tell Benn to come in,” you demanded, so close to him that he could taste your breath.

Shanks then immediately grabbed your wrist and aggressively turned you around, shoving your back on his chest. Your knife was now on your neck. The blade was on the verge of cutting into the delicate skin of your neck. But you took a big gulp and the motion got the blade to slowly and deliciously dig into your skin. You huffed, you couldn’t move an inch with how much force he was holding you.

“You really needed to be reminded that I'm your captain in, and out of the ship, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear.

His bare foot now snaked up your thighs, his heel finding its way to your pussylips, over the bathrobe. You gasped at the sudden touch. The material of the bathrobe was rubbing on your clit.

“I’ve really had enough of your games, Y/N, do you not know how much I want you, can you not feel it?” he said huskily, grinding his erection on your ass at the word ‘feel’.

Shanks didn’t fail to notice how you didn’t get defensive at all, your hands were just holding his hand but not trying to push him away. Instead, you were shamelessly grinding him right back.

Your breath started to grow heavy, but you wanted to push him toward the edge further.

“Yeah? Bet you won’t even last for five minutes, Captain,” you taunted him, the last word laced with seduction.

Shanks let out a demonic laugh and the blade that was on your neck was slowly now drawing drops of blood. His heel which was intensely grinding your pussy, now went to your knee and slid your foot to the side, making you lose your footing and you dropped down along with him. You squealed at the sudden action by your captain. Now you were sitting against your captain, both of your legs were wide spread open and locked in place by Shank’s feet. You couldn’t close your legs even if you wanted to no matter how hard you tried.

“I guess I just have to prove you wrong huh? You can decide if you want Benn over me once I’m done with you, sweetheart,” he purred as his hand snaked towards your pussy, and to his surprise, you were not wearing anything under. Your back arched when his thick digits casually traced your warm, saturated lips.

“Ooo, Benn’s gotchu this wet, huh?” he mocked you and licked his fingers clean. Your head was leaning on his chest, too aroused to even acknowledge what he said, and he was looking down at you with a vulgar smirk.

He then removed your loosely tied bathrobe from your shoulders, exposing your voluptuous tits. He let out a satisfying growl when he groped your breast. Kneading it with just enough pressure for your nipple to harden.

His mouth watered at how deliciously malleable it was. You held his face that was set on your shoulder, caressing it as he hungrily explored the sensation of fondling your tits. You grabbed his hair and pulled him close to your mouth, so close that he could feel your heavy breaths all over his lips.

“Touch me, captain,” you needily said, your hips grinding in need of any form of friction over your pussy. The cold air touching your exposed sex made your desperation for him worse.

Your words fell out of your mouth as sweet as grapes drenched in honey, how would he ever not listen to you?

His feet that were locking your legs in place had spread your legs further, and mild pain ran through the middle of your thighs. You moaned as the stretch was hurting you, but the arousal you got from that was unbearable.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, his hand now slithering down to your slit.

Tonight this madman was up to no good.

He collected all your juices to lubricate his hands, and he pressed on to your clit, your body mildly jittered at that and your hips bucked. But you only whimpered because that made your thighs stretch more. He shushed you, and snuggled his face on your neck, kissing and nibbling your salty skin. He continued his teasing by dipping two of his fingers deep in your pussy and removing them before you could even get a hint of pleasure from it. You whimpered from frustration because you were too damn desperate to be touched. You decided to take things into your own hands and you proceeded to rub your clit. His lips got closer to your ear, this time though, his voice carried no playfulness.

“Touch yourself and I will make sure you don’t even cum once,” his tone was so serious that shivers ran down your spine. You were even kind of regretting pushing him so much on the edge.

“Please, Shanks, touch me, I need you,” you begged, dumping whatever shame you had in you, already withdrawing your hand away from your heat. Instead, you held his thigh so tight to calm yourself down that he was sure you would leave marks.

He kissed your ear and hummed, “That’s my girl.”

His calloused fingers finally rubbed your clit at such intensity that he took your breath away. Your head threw back on his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed as he was dwelling in the scent of you. He then realized that he cut your neck a little with the slight scent of iron. Your captain immediately attacked your neck, sucking the cut out. This was truly driving him crazy. His attack on your clit only became more fierce as he was now rubbing it with three fingers. You hissed in pain. But the pain drove you madder as the pleasure was slowly creeping up on you.

“Shanks! Ahh- I can't- this is too much AAHHN!” you cried and his fingers only sped up, making you grit your teeth as you could feel yourself getting close to your orgasm. Your breaths started getting heavier and faster. You grabbed his hair and pulled him hard, hoping he would slow down. But he growled at the pain, getting more riled up.

“What? Don’t wimp out on me now darling, you gotta last at least more than five minutes,” he taunted.

Heat pooled in your lower back and you could snap any minute now. Your chest now had droplets of sweat and Shank’s stubble was scratching your neck making your head spin.

“I’m so close! Shanks-”, you moaned his name repeatedly, your thighs were shaking, and you tried so much to close your thighs from the pleasure but the more you attempted escaping his iron grip feet, he stretched them out more just as quickly.

“Come for me, my love,” he said with such a sweet tone. Tears were running down your cheeks as you screamed his name. Soon it felt like your whole body was short-circuited and you were washed with an intense pleasure storm. He was letting you ride your orgasm out. The impact was so much that you pushed back hard against his chest but he stayed put. You could feel his hard dick against your back and as you spasmed on him, the friction made him harder.

Once you came down from your high Shanks stopped the abuse on your clit and let your legs go, you hissed in pain. Your thighs were buzzing and you were extremely sensitive. You fell back on his chest, he put his fingers in your mouth and you cleaned them right off, your tongue tasting every bit of your arousal. He then caressed your hair, muttering sweet nothings in your ear.

The captain got up and lifted you with his hand. He laid you down on the bed and he kneeled in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt, taking in your naked form under the dim light. His pupils were blown by how alluring you looked. You looked so ethereal for him. Your chest heaving from the intense orgasm you just endured. Your curvaceous figure just waiting for him to get touched, consumed, manhandled-

Once he got rid of his shirt, he got on top of you, his hand slowly feeling your curves and dips. His smoldering touch on your body made you writhe your hips under him. He held your thigh up with his hand and his face hovered closely over yours.

“So impatient for me, hmm?” he cooed above you. His eyes darted towards the corner of your lips that had some drool on them, a result of his ministrations from earlier. Without thinking any further he licked it up, kissing and tasting the drool on your chin. His lips and tongue then crept towards your lips and he kissed you with raging desperation. Your taste was triggering his suppressed animalistic desires. He groaned and you were moaning into his passionate kiss. He bit your lip hard and when you let out an ‘aah!’ he leveraged the opening and darted his tongue in. You wrapped your plush lips around his tongue and ground your hips on his boner. His clothed dick was throbbing and the more friction it got from your grinding, there was precum collected in his pants.

He slapped your thighs hard and your body jolted.

“Behave yourself, sweetheart,” he said after parting his lips from the nasty kiss he was indulging in.

“FUCK me, captain,” you growled at him and he smiled, loving how you are just as desperate as him.

The captain gave you another deep kiss, and his lips grazed your lower lips as he separated from you. He then kissed your chin, lowering down to your neck. He was peppering your skin with hot and open-mouth kisses, licking you up like you were some sugar candy. His rough hand grabbed your boob and he was kneading it with such fervor that it made your arousal worse. Despite his big palms, he still couldn’t fit your entire breast and it drove him insane. His mouth now on your chest, smelling the sweet sweat around your breasts. The sweet and raw scent of you was more intoxicating than the hard alcohol he drank. He licked and kissed between your tits and he latched his lips on your hardened peak. He sucked on your breast hard and rolled your nipple between his lips. His hand was keeping the other tit busy by stimulating it nice and slow. Your chest rose from the bed, shoving his face deeper in your tit. You whined under him and when you looked at him, he caught on your eye contact and he winked at you. You averted your eyes and hid your face with your hands.

Shanks pinched the nipple that was in his palm and you yelped.

“What? I just wanna see your pretty face,” he said with a smirk after finally removing his mouth from your tit with a ‘pop’ sound. He even slapped your tits and saw them jiggle so beautifully. At this point, he had already lost his mind.

This fucking dog-

“Shanks!” You called him out, gritting your teeth. You were frustrated by his current distraction. You needed to get his dick in you so badly that you came up with something to provoke him.

“Hmm?” He said. He was willing to make you suffer until he drove you to the very edge, even though it means his dick can’t take the restrained torment anymore.

You looked him right in the eyes and said, “Why aren’t you fucking me yet, huh? Can’t get it up?”

Shanks’ mind did a 180 and he’s now dedicated to fuck that sass right out of you. He barked out a devious laugh and his hand came for your throat.

His lips were brushing yours as he said, “Oh you wanna get on my dick so bad huh? Alright, I’ll give you just that,” he said.

He got off the bed and got rid of his pants. When his dick got free from the constricts of the clothing your eyes widened. Your mouth watered at his size. Oh, he was definitely big big. You then spread your legs for him. He saw your seeping pussy and fisted his length a few times. Smirking at how needy you were for him, he quickly got on the bed and settled between your legs. He then grabbed your thigh and flipped you on your stomach. You were knocked out of breath and before you said anything he grabbed your waist and raised your hips high. This way he really got a good look at your back tattoo. It was in its full glory and under the dim room light it looked so fucking sexy on you. He grabbed your butt and squeezed it. Your heart was beating faster with anticipation of what next he’d do. He got down and gave your pussy a kiss from the back. You hummed and he licked your slit, from your clit all the way to your tight asshole. His fat and slick tongue left you mewling. Your taste made him moan and he wanted to go deeper with his tongue but he has a different mission for now.

The captain got up and grabbed his cock and spit on his tip. The precum and spit lubed his dick real nice and he lined it up against your heat. He pressed your clit hard with his tip and was feeling your wet heat.

Your body shivered at the feeling of his cock lingering over your pussy. You were throbbing for him so much that you pushed your hips back in an attempt to get his dick in you. He huffed at your desperate efforts and if it wasn’t for him being dangerously horny right now he’d tease you until you lost your shit. Shanks began by slowly pushing his tip in. He hissed at how tight your cunt was, and you whined at his girth. Inch by inch he slowly entered you, the stretch made you moan and tears stung your eyes. You were panting and tried your best to relax your pussy for him but he was just too fucking big.

Your walls were difficult to enter, yet you were so inviting. The way your pussy contracted his dick it felt like you were trying to suck the soul out of him.

“You’re sucking me in so good babe,” he panted. Once he was completely inside you, he paused for a minute for you to adjust to his size. Meanwhile, his hand was busy kneading your butt and tracing all the stretch marks with his fingers. He felt his dick get drenched with your arousal as you slowly rolled your hips on him, looking back at him, you smirked. He saw your salacious look and responded by pulling out midway and thrusting in hard. You gasped and moaned and your face was buried in the pillow. Your captain filled you up so good you felt your whole body burn bit by bit. His hand was grabbing onto your hip as he pounded into you with need.

Your captain’s eyes wandered towards your vacant ass-hole and he had another nasty idea. He had a lazy smirk on his face as he spread your cheek with his hand and he spat on your puckered hole. Your eyes widened and just when you could say anything, his thumb was rubbing the surface of your tight entrance and he applied just enough pressure to push just past the surface. Slowly twisting the fingertip one way and then the other, over and over.

This new sensation made you whine and push your hips into him more. Shanks was really amused at your reaction to his experimental action.

“Ooo you like this?” he snickered from behind you. “Oh what a dirty girl you are~”

“You’re so fucking nasty- mmmh!” your muffled moans reached his ears. Half of your face was shoved on the pillow and you wiggled your hips indicating him to go faster. He gladly obliged by increasing the speed of his thrusts. At this point he could reach deep inside you, the sounds of smacking hips riled him up wildly. And he just had to make you more flustered by mumbling this, “I wonder what would your Benn feel like when he hears us like this.”

You weren’t taking any of his bullshit as you said, “Yeah? Want me to fuck him too and tell you who’s better?”

Jealousy crawled up his spine the moment you said that, imagining you with him being intimate makes him want to properly claim you as his woman. You cackled when he leaned forward and grabbed your hair.

“Hah! Did my captain get angr- AAAHN,” your mockery was cut off by Shanks as his pace got much more intense than before. He then rolled his hips a certain way, your body shuddered and your breath hitched.

He lifted your face and purred, “Oh? I think I found exactly how to shut you right up baby.”

His vehement backshots felt so fucking lewd and good. His dick was rubbing you on your weak spot constantly and you could feel your orgasm creeping up to you slowly. You grabbed onto the sheets like your life depended on it and moaned his name in fervor.

Shanks felt your pussy tighten around his cock, he saw how he could completely get inside you and as he got out there were strings of your juices and his spit.

At that sight, he didn’t have any intention to stop his jackhammering because he was dedicated to making you feel so good that you wouldn’t fall on anyone else’s dick other than his. He grabbed your neck and lifted you up to his level, pounding you real nice and hard from the back at the same time.

His grip tightened around your neck and his lips got closer to your ear, kissing it, nibbling it. “Touch yourself, sweetheart,” he ordered oh so sweetly. One of your hands was wrapped around his neck and so the other hand went straight to your clit. His constant attack on your g-spot and your work on your clit topped off with his choking was a recipe for a storm that was coming towards you.

He felt your walls spasm around his cock as you finally snapped and you came again, very hard this time. Your loud moans and the wet slaps of his dick in you filled in the room. He groaned at how deliciously you were gripping him. He let you ride out your orgasm by languidly thrusting inside you, he held you by your chest and shushed you as your whole body was jolting.

He kissed your temple as you finally came down from your second high. “You came on my cock so well, my love,” he praised you, making your cheeks burn and avert your eyes.

He then pulled out of you and sat on the bed with his back against the wall. You looked at him, and he patted his thigh, gesturing you to come towards him. You crawled towards him and he was taking in your beautifully obscene form. Your skin was covered with a sheen, the light reflected on you and made you look like a sex demon. Your hair locks fell on the side of your face and your plush lips were apart with drool on the side of your lips. Your juicy tits looked so suckable while bouncing as you were going towards him on your fours.

You spread his thighs slightly apart when you reached him. You took your time admiring his strong and muscular body. Your fingers traced his chest, grazing his nipple, wandering down his abs. You got on top of him, your legs situated on either side of his hips. His hot and throbbing dick was almost reaching your belly button. You were actually shocked that something this big was able to go inside you.

You saw him in the eyes, and naturally, your attention went toward his prominent scar towards his eye. You absentmindedly grazed it with your finger but he immediately grabbed your wrist but didn’t pull it away from your face. He had a serious yet lustful expression on his face. You weren’t intimidated by him though, not even slightly. You found his scar beautiful, every bit of his body features was beautiful to you. You kissed his eye once. Then again. Awaiting any negative reaction from him, but you didn’t get any. His grip on your wrist loosened. You continued kissing him more, on his eye, on his nose, cheek, forehead, and wherever your lips took you. You then kissed him on the lips, your tongue was readily invited by his tongue. You went in for a deep, slow, and passionate kiss with him. You were strumming his heartstrings and he was blissfully letting you do so.

Your other hand held his dick, you were stroking him with your grip mildly right and focused on caressing his tip with your thumb. His breath hitched at that. Your kisses now peppered the side of his mouth, chin, and now his neck. You were sucking the large vein on the side of his neck, attempting to leave a mark on him.

“You’ve been such a tease, y/n,” he remarked with a love-drunk voice. You hummed and replied, “And so have you, my captain,” kissing his collarbone and trailing your tongue on his chest. Your grip on his dick getting stronger, strokes maintaining the same slow pace.

“Is that so?” he mused, looking down at you with a smile.

“Mmhm, you didn’t make a move on me all this time, so I took things into my own hands,” you answered. Your lips latched onto his nipple and sucked it hard. He hissed and his hand held your face, fingers lacing in your hair.

You loved how his nipple instantly hardened and you rolled your tongue on it. He was making low whiney sounds and to get more reaction from him you grazed your teeth on his bud. And you finally earned a moan from him.

He then pulled you up and kissed you harshly. You now lined his dick on your slit and pushed yourself down on him, this time without any struggle. You winced as you were still very sensitive down there, but you could manage it. He groaned into the kiss and you rolled your hips on him, causing him to throw his head back. Your hands were on his chest for support and you were riding him at a leisurely pace. He looked down at you and saw how your boobs jiggled every time you got up and down on him. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your lips were parted. His hand grabbed your ass and kneaded it, encouraging you to keep going on.

“You look so beautiful, y/n,” he crooned. Your heart fluttered at his words and you had the urge to make him feel good. So you tighten your pussy around his dick every time you get down and release the grip once you go up. This felt so sinfully both to you and him, you moaned as you could feel him go so much more deeper inside you. You picked up your pace and rode your man faster.

Shanks could feel the blood rushing to his core and his thighs tightened at the soon-to-arrive orgasm. So he lifted his lips making you fall flush on his chest. You gasped at his sudden movement and he thrusted his dick from below at a brutal pace. He held your hips so tight that you were sure his prints would be there to last.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and gladly took whatever he gave you. His dick was rubbing your sensitive spot with this accessible angle and you felt your face heat up. For some reason, you felt the urge to mark him too. You grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth to open. You collected a decent amount of spit in your mouth and spit into his. He looked right at you and swallowed it immediately. The sight of him taking in whatever you gave had stirred something animalistic in you. You were just as crazy as him. There was no going back now.

This time your third orgasm seemed to be arriving a lot faster than you thought but you also felt something else coming. You suddenly had the urgency to pee. You patted Shanks’ back and whimpered, “Shanks please let me go, I need to pee!’

He was too immersed in chasing his own pleasure to even bother to let you go.

“It’s alright, let it go, it’s gonna be fine,” he assured you. But you frantically shook your head and kept begging him to let you go. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to have you release all your juices over his cock. Even the thought of that made him hungrily pump you and even snuck his thumb on your clit to get you to your high soon. You wailed and moaned and felt so fucking feverish. You tried to hold it in but this beast would not stop whatsoever. When he felt the newly learned signs of your orgasm on his dick, he smirked and grinded in you.

You truly came hard this time and your eyes rolled back. Both of you felt hot liquid gush out of you and you screamed his name repeatedly like it was a mantra. He groaned at the feeling of you dripping, spasming cunt and it only drove him closer to his release. His hips stuttered and his pace was also faltering. Tears drenched your cheeks as you were extremely sensitive now and he was still going at it. You bit into his neck and pulled his hair hard. After a few more pumps the man under you growled and released thick and hot ropes of cum inside you. You felt so fucking dirty and at the same time, you felt so good. You whimpered and he rubbed your back. You totally didn’t expect him to cum so much. Once he rode out his high he went limp on the bed, his dick was still inside you and you rested your body on top of him. Too sensitive to even move.

Both of your chests were heaving. He brushed your hair away from your forehead and kissed you there. “You did so well,” he praised you. Your head got up from over his chest and you kissed him again, the tiredness was evident in your energy. You then whispered over his lips, “You’re mine.”

He smiled, “I’m yours.”

You hugged him tightly. He hugged you back with his hand wrapped around your lower back.

Both of you stayed like that for what seemed like 15 minutes.

Shanks patted your butt and said, “Let’s get you cleaned now, yeah?”

You nodded and when you got up, you saw his abdomen glistening from the arousal you had released earlier. Shanks' gaze followed yours and he smirked, “That was hot, I wonder if I could make you do that again.”

You laughed and smacked his cheek playfully. He even saw the intersection of your pussy and his dick, his semen was slowly oozing out of you. The sight made him hard again and you widened your eyes and immediately got up his dick.

Shanks barked out a laugh at your reaction and he laid you down on the bed. “What? Your stamina can’t take it?” He teased you.

Now you weren’t someone to take stamina criticism from your old ass captain, so you said, “Try me, captain. I’m sure you’ll duck out sooner than me.”

“Oh yeah?”

That night you both went on for a few more rounds and both of you ducked out at the same time. You both didn’t bother cleaning up and he slept with you with his dick still buried inside you.

___

It was around noon the next day, Shanks had given you a nice hot bath and cleaned himself too. He let you sleep in and he said he would be back after checking in with the crewmates.

He walked to the bar he left last night and saw almost all of them passed out on the floor, chairs, and the fucking wall. He even saw puddles of puke at some corners and huffed. Shanks took a vacant chair and drank a half-emptied bottle of water.

Yasopp was passing by with a brush in his mouth and saw his captain in the beach bar. He didn’t fail to notice all the marks on his chest and neck. Disappointed at his captain for not even attempting to cover his love bites, and he did seem like he was proudly showing it off. “Oh she a freak freak,” he huffed and mumbled to himself. Being fully aware of your wilderness and his captain’s desire towards you.

-the end-

#shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #shanks x you #shanks #akagami no shanks #one peice #red haired pirates #one piece smut #benn beckman #yasopp #shameless #new to tumblr

[cnwolf-brainrot]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Minimum Wage Turtles

So just a little headcanon/theory I have about the Mutant Mayhem turtles is that they eventually get jobs, because they're teens who are actually getting the chance to assimilate into society so yeah, I think they'd eventually get their own little customer service jobs!

Mikey is actually the first to bring it up because he and his improv group end up frequenting McDonalds after school and he quickly realizes that he doesn't have money to pay for it and now that they're out in the open it's a lot harder to justify not paying for things (and harder to get away with not paying for things too). He's also the bravest of the four when it comes to human interaction so he's the first to actually get a job, which ends up being a food service position (probably at the McDonalds his improv group visits). He's not the absolute best at his job and he spends a lot of time goofing off and definitely gives free food to friends, but he's FANTASTIC at talking to customers and distracting angry Karens so everyone loves him.

Leo is the second to jump on the job train, but more for a "I feel morally guilty about stealing now that we're able to be a part of society" reason than Mikey's "I want pocket change" reason. Leo gets a job at Best Buy because honestly with his school look he looks like the kind of guy who would look at Best Buy. He invests himself WAY too much into his work, and his managers love him for it. He's given a leadership position way earlier than he probably should have been because of how dedicated he gets to the work, and while he takes it eagerly he definitely stresses himself out over it.

Raph was a bit more hesitant to get a job but he hated when Leo or Mikey would buy things for him, so he eventually caved. At first he got a job at a grocery store, but he absolutely HATED customer service and quit after like two weeks to keep himself from punching a Karen in the face. He waited a while before trying again, and this time got a job at a gym. This suited him much better because while its a lot of cleaning equipment and dealing with whiny gym jocks, if he got mad at any point during his shift he could just slip away to "clean" the punching bags... with his fists.

Donnie took one look at his brothers getting jobs and said "took you long enough". He's been running his own freelance coding business for the past four years and is already making BANK. His bros asked if he wanted to get a job where he'd actually get the chance to touch grass and his answer was "ask me again when your paycheck has three more zeroes at the end of it". Most of what he does is legal, but he has taken a few dark web hacking jobs before and loved them with zero remorse. None of the bros know exactly how much money Donnie has hidden away, but its enough for him to literally laugh at their paychecks.

Also none of the turtles really care about shoplifting/minor theft. They were raised on that, it's how they survived. Getting money and actually paying for things is just a luxury they have now, and they're trying to fit in so eh, might as well ¯_(ツ)_/¯

#tmnt #tmnt headcanons #tmnt mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem #tmnt mm #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #headcanon

[flanaganfilm]

Good morning/ evening! My name’s Sam and I’m currently a film student hoping to get into freelance writing. I’ve got a couple questions if you don’t mind (hoping you haven’t already answered them and I just missed them).

When you first starting making your own films, did you have already have thick skin for any critics/ bad reviews? Or is that something you grew over time?

Also, for your production company, do you hire interns and PAs or do you prefer filmmakers with more experience?

Thank you!

To your first question, I do not have a thick skin in that area AT ALL and never have. I don't know many people who do.

I'm often approached by fans who will talk about what a project of mine means to them, or I find a review or think piece online where the author really connected with my work. I want to let that feedback in, because it's validating. But letting it in means letting ALL of it in, even the negative. I don't really get to pick and choose. Once I decided to let myself react emotionally to other people's feedback, those gates are open I've got to accept whatever comes through.

I take my work very seriously, and tend to pour my heart and soul into it. We make these things because we love them. It can literally take years of daily work to do. When people love it, it feels great. When people don't, it hurts. There's really no way around that.

Film criticism has, like a lot of things, devolved over time. I was a massive fan of Robert Ebert, who was thoughtful and sophisticated in his critiques (most of the time), and tried to approach each movie he watched on the film's own terms - from the perspective of "how successful was this at achieving what it set out to do?" I see a lot of criticisms today that don't do this, and instead are lamenting what a movie is or isn't, saying things like "I wish this was more..." or "This isn't good because I wanted it to be something else."

"I wanted a ________ and what I got instead was ______ so it sucks."

The other issue is that loud, sensationalized vitriol gets more clicks. Negative reviews, especially brutal and callous ones, get more attention than positive ones. I've gotten to know and befriend some professional critics over the years, who have all told me that the positive reviews don't generate the audience reaction quite like the negative ones. People enjoy watching things get beat up. We reward the wrong kind of discourse, and that isn't unique to film criticism - it's everywhere. That's just a symptom of our culture.

One of my great frustrations is how we assert our opinion as objective truth. There's nothing more dangerous than tweeting "I liked ______ movie!" The comments flood in about how you're wrong, how it sucks, blah blah blah. People think their own taste is somehow factual. If someone says "I had a fantastic steak dinner last night and I loved it," we don't say "you're wrong, steak sucks". We understand the concept of taste when it comes to other things we consume, but when it comes to entertainment each one of us thinks we're the ultimate authority.

For myself, my producer and my wife have long discouraged me from reading reviews. I still can't help it. It's not healthy though. I can scroll past a dozen positive ones, and they evaporate in my mind, but I read one scathing thing and it sticks with me for days. There is one particular review of MIDNIGHT MASS that is one of the most baffling and frustrating things I've ever read, as the author appears to have misunderstood just about every aspect of the series, and drawn the angriest, most misguided, most erroneous conclusions. I read it with my jaw on the ground... "but they're objectively wrong. That isn't what happens, and that isn't what the show is even about." But what can I do? Who am I to say their experience of the show is invalid? They feel how they feel, and that's fine. That's okay. It has to be.

So your skin doesn't get thicker, it is a bizarre emotional experience to put something personal out there into the world and see the gamut of reactions. But at a certain point you have to remind yourself that it's impossible to please everyone, and that these projects don't belong to the filmmaker - they belong to the audience, and each and every one of those experiences is unique and valid. Perhaps there are lessons to be learned, and perhaps the critique can help you grow as a filmmaker.

I have similar feelings when I see someone trashing someone else's work I happen to love - for example, I remain baffled by people who didn't like EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE, but that doesn't mean anything. It didn't work for them, that's all. Nothing works for everyone.

I have found over the years that I respect and appreciate analyses and criticisms that take this more personal point of view, and talk about their own interaction with the work as opposed to just dismissing it outright. When someone says "this movie didn't work for me," or "I didn't connect with it," or "It just wasn't my cup of tea," I have a much easier time taking it seriously. It's changed how I talk about my own reactions to movies or shows that I didn't respond to. And I found that it's made it much easier for me to enjoy things even if they aren't quite for me. Instead of being reactive and saying "it sucks" or "I hate this," I've gotten better at realizing it's not a binary experience - I can look at what DOES work for me, and I can appreciate it, even while other elements might not.

It makes for a much more nuanced discussion, and helps me grow. Sometimes, though, it's just the wrong thing to watch on the wrong day, and that's fine too. Maybe that makes it a little easier. If I step out of something and just really don't enjoy it, it helps remind me that it's not personal. Clearly, other people DO enjoy these things, sometimes I'm very much in the minority. And when that happens, I can say "oh, it's not so bad if someone hates a movie I made, or a show, or whatever. Life's too short."

But I long ago decided I'd never say anything negative about someone else's work in public. I know too much about what it takes to make a movie, and I'm not a critic. I'm a filmmaker. This town is too small, and there is zero upside in dragging another filmmaker's efforts. On the rare occasions when I do see another filmmaker indulge in that behavior, it is always a terrible look. And it can have real-world consequences - there are a few filmmakers who I've seen publicly slag off other people's work, and I quietly decided never to hire them. Like I said, it's a small town... and most of us read what people say about our work.

We should get back to that work, remember how lucky we all are to do this for a living, and leave that kind of thing to the critics.

#filmmaking #criticism #boy do I miss Roger Ebert

[choke-me-joey]

Ch1/Ch2

Summary: As Joe's long-term girlfriend, you reflect on your relationship over the last 4 years.

Content warning: 18+ so minors are not welcome, real person fiction (don't like, don't read, don't bitch), smut, fluff, angst, probably inaccurate timelines and processes but does anyone really care?, alcohol use, smoking...if I've missed anything please let me know!!

Author's note: when I was deep in my Dan and Phil phase I wrote this, published it on AO3 and then took it down so before anyone says "Hey this looks familiar" don't panic, I'm not stealing anyone's work and I can prove it lmao. Thanks to @harrys-four-nipples for reading this first chapter and telling me it wasn't as shit as I thought. Love you girl 🥰 feedback is always appreciated, let me know if you'd like me to continue this!

Paris

December 2022

After the craziest year anyone could ever imagine, exploring and staying in a variety of hotels across the globe, the last convention of 2022 was finally happening. You had been by your boyfriend's side the entire time; your job as a freelance photographer/social media specialist pretty much allowed you to travel anywhere and everywhere and luckily Joe's team were on board with you providing his official con photos and managing his social media. But as ideal as that sounds, it hadnt been easy.

It had been one of the best experiences of your life, watching the man that you love so, so much bring so much joy to the millions of people around the world who adored him. Despite being at every convention, watching all the fan interactions and all the panels, you were never bored. It hadn't all been perfect though, in fact it had been extremely trying at times, what with Joe being so damn exhausted there was barely any 'you' time, or fans getting a little bit too crazy at the meet and greets, but you wouldn't have traded it for the world.

You'd think that being cooped up on planes, in hotel rooms and travelling constatnly for months on end, spending almost every waking minute of the day together would have seriously damaged your relationship, but in all honesty, it brought you and Joe closer together. Sure, there have been times where you’ve wanted to smother each other with the shitty hotel pillows, but what couple doesn't argue? Without the option of slamming the bedroom door shut and sulking, you've learnt to just talk it out, and move on, and things have just gotten better and better. You had just celebrated our 4 year anniversary in Tokyo last month, and Jamie was constantly teasing you, telling you if you didn't get a ring this Christmas, you two could just run away together instead.

Of course, Joe had gotten super salty at the joke, seemingly never being able to escape the never ending question from his family and friends of when he was finally going to pop the question. He didn't need it from Jamie now too. He was going to do it, he just didn't want to rush it after all.

As it was the last con of 2022, Joe's team had given you some time off to just enjoy the convention, acknowledging that you had worked through your anniversary in Japan. This meant you could actually walk around the con and hang out with some of your friends, and enjoy the panels, which you were grateful for. You had some time to chat with Joe's dad too, which was always a good time, you got on so well with him and it was nice to see just how proud he was of his son.

Although you had been together for 4 years now, you and Joe weren't quite comfortable with going public with your relationship just yet. Joe had sky rocketed to fame overnight and his fanbase could be a little...intense. They went into a frenzy if he was spotted within 5 feet of another girl, and said girls were always stalked and harassed online and Joe didn't want that for you. You'd been pretty good at hiding it so far, most fans just thinking you were part of Joe's management team always there to keep him on schedule. It was a bit shit not being able to hold his hand or give him a hug in public but when the time was right, you both agreed you would go public.

You had headed back to the hotel a little before the con was over, Joe would no doubt get waylaid by fans outside the convention centre and you'd said you would order you both some food and run a bath for him so he could just relax now he was done for the Christmas period. New Orleans was a little after New Years so you'd have time to explore Paris, get home for Christmas and see in the New Year together.

Joe practically collapses through the door and you run to hug him, you were both desperate to touch each other after a long day of pretending to be work friends.

"Hi," you mumbled into his neck. "Last one for this year done, babe. I'm so proud of you."

He doesn't respond, he's holding onto you as if someone was threatening to take you away from him. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"I love you so much," he whispers. "Thank you."

"Joe, you don't need to thank-"

"Yeah, I do. I just thought that you've been there from the very start, and you've worked so hard, putting up with all my shit and you've been so supportive. I couldn't have done it without you." He sniffs, looking a little emotional. "Tonight was the first night I've actually been able to see you and not your camera, and knowing you were actually there, right in front of me, like, everything from the past 4 years went through my head and I could see you smiling at me, and the fans and I just..." he trails off, at a loss for words. You kiss his cheek, your own eyes welling up.

"You're such a soppy git, Joe." You tease him, but he knows you're joking.

"Shut up, you're just as soppy. " He laughs, poking you in the side gently. You poke my tongue out at him and he crosses his eyes in response, before my phone buzzes to let me know our food has been delivered to the hotel lobby. You break away from Joe, kissing his cheek and heading downstairs to grab your food.

You both scoff down your food, both of you having been way too busy to really eat a proper meal today, and then Joe gets into the bath. He tries to persuade you to join him, but honestly the bathtub here was smaller than the one at home, and even that could be a struggle to fit the both of you in, so you decline, changing into your pyjamas and watching some random show on TV and scrolling through your phone, replying to messages in the Quinn family group chat and your own family group chat.

You can't help but bite your lip in appreciation as Joe comes back into the bedroom, a towel around his waist and his curls dripping. He makes his way over to his suitcase in search for a pair of clean boxers. Your eyes scan over his bare torso, his broad shoulders, sharp collarbones, toned arms and his perfect stomach with a dusting of dark hair disappearing into the towel. He feels your eyes on him, standing up and turning around.

"What?" He smirks, stifling a yawn. You return his smirk, stretching a little.

"Nothing, just admiring my boyfriend. That alright with you?"

"Depends, can I ogle you like a pervert the next time you come out in just a towel?" Joe jokes, quickly pulling his boxers on under his towel, pulling it off and hanging it back up in the bathroom, before crawling on the bed and collapsing on his stomach, sighing heavily.

"You do anyway, I'm just more subtle about my staring, Quinn."

"You're just as pervy as me, Y/N, dont even try and pretend you're not. " he laughs, turning onto his side, pulling you down and wrapping his arm around you. You cuddle into him, burying your face in his neck.

"Difference is, Joseph, the whole Internet can see what a flirt you are, nobody has dirt on me."

"M'too tired for your smart arse right now."

"You like my smart arse." You grin into his skin, and he chuckles, the sound rumbling in his throat.

"I like your smart everything," he mumbles, kissing the top of your head. You sigh in response, enjoying the feeling of him cuddled up to you. "M'so tired. And my back is killing me."

"Did you twinge it again?"

"Mm. Hurts."

You untangle myself from him and roll off the bed, rummaging through your suitcases until you find the baby oil you always use to keep your skin moisturised after a shower. You shake it up as you walk towards the bed. "On your stomach, babe."

"That is the most terrifying thing you could say to me whilst holding baby oil." He eyes the bottle in your hands suspiciously, but does what you've said anyway.

"I believe that would actually be 'face down, ass up and just relax'." You smirk, climbing back on the bed, straddling his legs. He groans dramatically, making you roll your eyes and laugh. "You're such a drama queen, babe."

"Making a living off of it, aren't I?"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up Mr Man of the Year." You quip, opening the bottle and pour some of the oil into your hands, rubbing them together to warm it up before pressing your palms against his shoulder blades. You apply just the amount of pressure that you know he likes, rubbing his flawless skin. "That okay?"

He responds by letting out a quiet moan of approval.

"How did I get so lucky?" Joe groans into the pillow as you continue to rub his shoulders and upper back, trying your best to work out the knots in his muscles. You smile, placing a kiss to the back of his neck that makes him shiver slightly.

"You elbowed me in the tits on the Underground and made me spill my coffee all over myself." You chuckle, adjusting your position on his legs so you could massage further down.

"The one time in my whole life that me being a clumsy twat has actually worked out in my favour." Joe's voice is muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he's smiling. He grunts in pleasure as you knead his lower back gently.

"Meh, you're just lucky I thought you were hot." You teased, gently poking him in the sides. He chuckles softly. "And you were, and still can be, so socially awkward, it was endearing."

"Mm, love you." He mumbles, and you know he's slowly falling asleep by the way his body is relaxing beneath you.

"Love you too, babe." You whisper back, moving off of his back and into bed next to him, pulling the covers over both of you. Ypu push his curls back from over his face. "Always have, always will." You kiss his temple and turn off the bedside lamp, letting him sleep off the post convention exhaustion whilst you take advantage of the good selection of TV channels the hotel has.

A few hours later, you're still awake and on your phone, scrolling through Instagram, the TV long turned off. You're laid on your side facing away from your currently snoring boyfriend. Joe grumbles in his sleep and rolls over, moulding his body around yours and spooning you. You feel something poking you in your bum and smirk to yourself, wiggling your butt back against him.

"Hmm, you still awake?" Joe whispers, his voice rough with sleep and exhaustion, one of his hands running over your thigh.

"Mm, I didn't wake you up, did I?" You reply, shivering in delight as his lips graze your neck. You roll over to face him, and he moves your leg on top of his, moving your bodies closer together as he kisses you hard, his hands wandering around to your ass and squeezing it.

Oh.

You see where this is going.

"Are you sure you're up to this, Joe? You're exhausted." You say quietly, trying your best to control your breathing after you break away. Thanks to your busy schedules, it been at least two weeks since you'd last had sex. You snuck in whatever you could, but mostly it was just heavy make out sessions or occasionally a hand and/or blow job to help with Joe's anxiety levels. You were practically soaked already and he'd barely touched you.

"Never too tired for you," he mumbles, pecking your lips softly, and slowly lifting up the hem of your (his) shirt. "Off?"

You nod, and you both work together to rid you of the oversized shirt. "C'mere," he grunts, rolling you on top of him, his hands on your hips as he looks up at me.

"Lazy," you tease, your skin feeling like it's on fire as he runs his hands up your sides.

"Beautiful." He responds, giving you that little smile that makes your heart melt every time. It's a smile that only you get to see, and it's during your intimate moments like this that he smiles like that, and you fall in love with him all over again. You hum and lean down, kissing him passionately, your tongues dancing around each other. His hands return to your hips, pushing them down against his crotch as he lifts his hips up, and the friction and heat makes you both moan. You nibble on his bottom lip, which you know drives him crazy, before moving to kiss his jawline and neck, a somewhat external G-spot for him. "Fuck..."

"Well, if you want, I mean, I was just gonna suck you off and then take care of myself," you grin against his skin, and he responds by slapping your ass lightly. In return, you bite gently on his collarbone, and he grunts, the noise going straight in between your legs. "What do you want, Joe? Tell me."

"Wanna fuck you," he growls, turning his head and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently. "Wanna be inside you so bad, baby, please."

You whimper, nodding. Foreplay would have to wait for tonight.

You sit up and awkwardly peel off your underwear, throwing it somewhere in the room, deciding you'd find it in the morning. You gently palm Joe's cock through his boxers, making him grunt and moan your name loudly, before pulling them down his legs, and he kicks them off his feet. You take his cock into your hand, squeezing gently and stroking him a few times. "Please, baby, m'not gonna last long..." You'll let him off for that, it really has been forever since you last fucked. You reach across to the bedside table, grabbing a condom from your makeup bag (damn your birth control prescription running out before you'd realised) and tearing it open. He holds his hands out to put it on himself, but you slap them away, rolling it on him as slowly as possible, making him grit his teeth, grunt and buck his hips slightly.

Deciding to be a bit more of a tease, you hover above him for a few seconds, grinding down ever so slightly. He grips your hips so tight there will definitely be bruises in the morning, and he bites his lip, whimpering and cursing. You decide to let him off, because you want this just as much as he does, and you place the head of his cock at your dripping pussy, slowly sinking down onto him. He throws his head back and moans, a little too loudly, as do you. "God, I missed this...missed you."

"I missed you too," you sigh, placing your hands on his chest, giving yourself a bit of leverage before you start to move your hips. "Fuck, Joe, you feel so fucking good..." as much as you want this to last, you know it won't. You can already feel your orgasm growing as you grind down against him. He bucks his hips up, his cock brushing my g-spot. "Oh my god, Joe!"

"Fuck," he growls, his breathing heavy. "Faster, baby, please, I-" he cuts himself off with a moan as you obey. "Shit, fuck!"

"You're so loud," you giggle breathlessly, gasping as he places his thumb on your clit and rubs in time with your thrusts. "We're gonna get noise complai-AH, FUCK, JOE!"

"I'm the loud one, am I?" Fucking asshole.

"Shut up," You gasp, as he sits up, wrapping your legs around him and attaches his lips to your collarbone, sucking and biting as you move together. You can tell he's getting close from the way his breath is coming out in pants, and his moans are getting more desperate sounding. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, and you run your fingers through his curly hair, and he looks up at you.

"Kiss me," he whispers, and of course, you do. "M'getting close."

"Me too," you whisper back, and he reaches between you to stroke your clit. "Joe, I-"

"I know."

The room is filled with your moans, and heavy breathing as you both get closer and closer to the edge. Joe moves his hand and lies you down on the bed, so he's on top. He winks at you, and smirks as he puts your legs around his waist, and his hands either side of your head. He ducks down and kisses you softly before moving his hips, fucking you hard and fast, the way he knows you like it.

"Oh,my god Joe, I'm gonna cum!" You moan, digging your nails into his back.

"Do it, wanna feel you cum for me," he groans, and all it takes is him angling his hips just right, and you're coming, moaning his name probably way too loud, your whole body shaking. Joe curses and stills, pushing his cock inside you one last time as he cums into the condom, hard, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he whispers your name, telling you he loves you. You say it back, stroking his neck gently as he collapses on top of you, his head on your chest. "You're amazing."

"I think you'll find that's you, babe." You say breathlessly, grinning like a fool.

"I am pretty fucking good in bed, aren't I?" Joe grins, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"You always know what to say...so romantic," you roll your eyes, poking him in the tummy.

"Mhmm, you're very lucky. I mean, I even make sure you cum every single time we fuck, if that's not true love, I don't know what is." He pulls off the condom, tying it and throwing it into the bedside bin.

"Be still my beating heart!" You laugh and kiss the top of his head, rolling out from underneath him. He pouts, reaching out for you with grabby hands. "Joe, as much as I'd love to cuddle right now, I seriously need to shower after that. Wanna come with?"

"Depends, you might have to roll me, you've worn me out." he yawns, sitting up on the bed. "Besides, I already had a bath. Can't you just give me a sponge bath or something so I don't have to move?"

"Again, lazy. And I know you already showered, but if you think I'm cuddling with you when you smell like sweat and sex, you can fuck right off." You tease, grinning with your tongue poking between your teeth. You turn around, heading into the bathroom and turning on the shower. After waiting for the water to warm up, you step in, relishing the warmth cascading over you. A few minute later, you feel Joe's arms wrap around your waist and his body pressing up against yours. You stand in silence for a few moments, letting water fall down over you both. He then turns you around in his arms so you're facing him, your arms around his neck.

"Y'know, we could have just done it in here, that way we could be in bed right now." He says, flicking his wet hair out of his eyes. You run your fingers over the short hairs at the back of his neck as he leans his forehead against yours.

"Hey, I'm not the one who fell asleep before we'd even had a chance to do anything."

His face falls a little. "I'm sorry, I've been kind of a shitty boyfriend recently, haven't I?"

"What are you talking about?" You frown up at him, his beautiful brown eyes avoiding yours.

"Well, just with conventions and appearances and everything, and how busy we've been, I haven't had time to just...be with you, y'know?"

"Joe, we live together, we travel together, we're with each other every day almost-"

"That's not what I mean, we haven't been on a date in literally forever, I was at the con in Tokyo the entire day of our anniversary, and my dad was with us all day before that, for fucks sake!"

"Your dad is pretty much with us all the time, babe. It doesnt bother me, you know how much I love him. Turn around." You say, squirting some shampoo into your hand and massaging his scalp. He sighs.

"See, this is what I mean. You do all this nice stuff for me, like the back rubs, the food runs, the surprise blowies-"

"Which I do because I want to, not because I feel like I have to." You take the shower head off the wall and rinse his hair out, before running some conditioner through it. "I love you, and I know exactly what being with you entails. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I got salty about everything?"

"A normal one." Joe retorts, turning back around and gesturing for you to turn your back to him so he can wash your hair for you. "And I'm glad you're not, I just feel bad. You do everything for me and I can't even give you five minutes recently."

You don't respond, revelling in the feel of his fingers on your scalp, massaging in the shampoo. You hum appreciatively. He rinses out the shampoo and runs conditioner through your hair, making sure to cover every inch. "When we get home, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Joe-"

"Please? We can go out and celebrate our anniversary properly, dinner, drinks, a movie, whatever you want."

You turn back around to face him. "What I want, is to stay in, order Chinese, shag and then fall asleep on the sofa with you. Joe you don't have to take me out, or buy me shit to make me feel like you love me. I know you love me, without all the materialistic crap, okay?"

He said nothing, instead he looked at you his eyes looking a little misty. He was an emotional mess tonight, but you couldn't really blame him. He blinked a couple of times, and kissed you on the nose.

"Turn around, you sap." He mumbled, giving you a small smile. He basically meant 'stop before you make me cry' in fewer words. You laughed softly, before turning back around so he could rinse your hair and his. Once you're clean, you step out and dry yourselves off, and you put on Joe's shirt again, this time pairing it with some pyjama shorts. You quickly dry my hair before getting back into bed, settling down with your head on his chest and his arms around you. "See, isn't this better than standing up and actually moving?"

"Mm," you sigh, already feeling your eyes getting heavy. "I miss our bed though."

"Me too, when we get home we are gonna spoon so fucking hard in bed for like a week." He mumbles into your hair.

"What about food and stuff?" You look up at him, raising an eyebrow. He laughs.

"Of all the things you're worried about, I love how food is at the top of that list. I fucking love you." He kisses the top of your head and switches off the bedside light. "Maybe we can persuade Wes to bring us breakfast in bed."

"Oh yeah, I can totally see him being okay with that," you laugh, my hand resting on Joe's stomach. "If anything, you owe me breakfast in bed after all these bloody photos I've taken of you. Know how hard it is to make you look good mid sentence?"

"Ouch, low blow, babe."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You know I love looking at you, chocolate button eyes." You tease, laughing as he groans into his pillow.

"I need to learn to think before I divulge all this stuff. I'm never shaking that am I?"

"Never ever."

#joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn

[project-sekai-facts]

WxS event teaser commentary

This is only my second time doing a WxS teaser but I have come to despise them for never being clear as to what member it could be.

Okay so on the one hand, lots of purple and other things that suggest a Rui event. The gems are a big one, originating from the Curtain Call teaser and card set, but there's also the book, which reminds me a lot of the one from the Revival my dream teaser.

On the other hand though, you've got the stars and music notes that are more of a Tsukasa thing. Well, the music notes appear in a lot of teasers actually and don't have to denote Tsukasa, but considering he's the one with a musical background I tend to automatically associate him with them when they show up. Also the song in general makes me think more along the lines of Tsukasa, mainly because Rui tends to get songs with a sort of cool edge to them, and this is more fun and jazzy (something that was specifically turned down by staff when Karasuyasabou submitted his first draft for Showtime Ruler).

(TL from @/pjsekai_eng) The producer specifically mentioned the fact that Tsukasa was their first 4* card so they felt they had a connection to WxS, and daichan literally shouted out "Tsukasa! Banzai!" after the teaser was shown so maybe I'm leaning slightly more towards him.

There's an art deco theme to the teaser as well, but I think that could fit with either of them quite well (though maybe leaning slightly more towards Rui since Tsukasa tends to get more story-based card sets).

Anyway, enough of that. In terms of story again there's not any huge hints we can get. I'm assuming since WxS has just started freelancing that this event will be mainly working out the "what now" of it all. But then again it did seem like the Otoris worked out a lot of that offscreen in Happy Ending, and it's not like they have to really get their name out there after all the promotional shows. The Otoris set them up with a few contacts, but I'm not sure if we'll dive straight into that. Though as I said, a lot of the work for this was done offscreen, so it's not like we're gonna get an entire event dedicated to them doing organisation stuff like Re:START From Here.

The stars forming a vague moon (?) shape towards the end of the teaser caught my eye, I wonder if WxS is adapting a book (given the book + it seemingly being an rmd reference) and this somehow has relevance to that. I can't think of any specific stories though so if there is one involved they probably made it up again.

In conclusion, not sure whose event this is. Even the text is both their image colors, so... yeah. It's certainly an event for one of them alright. Either way they're probably both gonna be 4* so does it really matter at that point?

#basically if it's a tsukasa event then rui's pretty much guaranteed a 4* bc he's had two events with emu/nene gacha #plus nene gacha on ALL of his events. so something like tsukasa/rui/vsinger probably #and if it's a rui event then tsukasa's probably gonna be 4* if only for the fact they finally gave him reward cards after 2 years #and he's only been gacha on 1 wxs event this year (his own). there is an issue with rui currently being 1 4* away from catching miku and #also already having FIVE 4*s this year but kanade's probably gonna get her 6th 4* on WL so idk just give Miku a 4* on this event or MMJ and #we should be fine #mod talks #speculation

[milogreer]

❥ my top ten redacted audio speakers !!

i’ve seen a bunch of people doing this so i wanted to join in! i love a bandwagon 😋

feisty werewolf; milo - i mean, come on. *gestures at my blog* look at me. milo very quickly took top spot, by the time i got to the panic attack audio i was like the rest of y’all can pack it up bc this guy’s got me hooked lmfao it was just so sweet to see a softer side of the guy who, at that point in the timeline, had mostly only been abrasive, cocky, and flirty. that accent also does everything for me. the exact moment i fell in love with him was when he said, “of course i’m not mad. i was worried - scared that you were hurt or something. but never mad.” 🫠💖

nervous air elemental; lasko - lasko… what can i say about lasko. he definitely awoke something in me lmao, initially i didn’t want to get into the elementals because meeting new people felt like a chore at the time but he immediately made me laugh and it was all downhill from there… i love that he’s kinda freaky and he makes me want to bite him in the non-canon audios, but even in prime universe he’s just so sweet and a really good friend. and his relationship with coworker makes me so proud of his development

arrogant incubus; gavin - i’ve said it before but gavin’s the reason i’m here! his hbs 2023 audio was my first audio of the channel, and to go back in time and watch his progression to that point was so heartwarming 🥺 him and freelancer are possibly the best pair in the universe, i just adore everything about them. gavin’s audios are actually the hardest ones for me to listen to because the love he has for freelancer is suffocating to witness in a really bittersweet way 😩

yandere cultist friend; blake - this one is um …. i never expected this HAHA when i first listened to the balance he really skeeved me out (as he should), but then mother mother released ‘explode!’ and for some unfathomable reason it got into my head as a blake song and i couldn’t dissociate it from him. on a second listen of the balance, i definitely appreciate his character more and the juxtaposition of him with elliott and sunshine vs bestie is so so interesting to me. i can’t even be mad at bestie because he’d have me wrapped around his finger too 🥲 rly nervous for his next story update

chaotic boyfriend; guy - BABYGIRL. humor is the biggest thing i look for in relationships both platonic and romantic and no one makes me laugh like guy does. he’s so my type and the way honey acts is literally how i am with guys i like, so guy audios are always so much fun to listen to 💖 and no BA hits quite like that pre-recorded one

i ended up talking more than i thought i would so the other half is under the cut!

it gets kind of messy in the second half because i think these could get shuffled around depending on my mood but for now these are my thoughts!

seer obscura; morgan - morgan is… captivating. i know he kinda only blew up after ‘time is a song’ but it’s with good reason; the atmosphere is so calming but also, like… there’s a longing to it, ykwim? the two of them being the only know seer obscuras naturally lends a hand to the tension between them. no one else understands their unique struggles - so when his new obscura acquaintance calls him up in the middle of the night asking for help and comfort, of course he isn’t going to say no. it’s such an intimate setting for their third audio together and you can feel the tension building the whole time up to “i want to know you.” it’s just a really good audio. very interested to see where his story goes

sarcastic inchoate demon; avior - THE SNARK. THE QUIET KINDNESS. THE MYSTERY. THE YEARNING. THE TRAGEDY. avior’s got it all. sovereign state had me on the edge of my seat the whole time and still does, honestly. his hbs rewind audio is one of my favorites; the effort and love he put into that little date to give starlight a reprieve from their shared hell… he is such a romantic 💖 there’s nothing quite like falling in love while stuck in an actual hell

unempowered boyfriend; geordi - he’s an interesting one for me bc my love of him is directly tied to cutie + cutie’s telepathy giving us a look into his head (i just melt over his whispered little i love yous and compliments). they have a fascinating and messy story that i live for even when it makes me sick lol i adore that they’re both flawed but that they’re taking steps to better themselves. it’s fun when couples in the redactedverse aren’t perfect but still try to be better out of love

mysterious stranger; hush - THE weird guy. within his first audio i went from being indifferent to charmed. i love a mystery and everything about him is mysterious, but he’s also so clueless sometimes that it’s like. so what if he tied doc to the bed in their first meeting, now he’s asking to hold their hand when he’s nervous. so what if his purpose is to free the sovereigns? he learned how to cook for doc. i can’t NOT love him

unknown yandere caller - i’m a ghostface fan, okay. and i’m a taurus. i like when people are obsessed with me 🤷🏼‍♀️ there’s just something so… like. listen. “you’ll start to expect me. you’ll start to crave me.” from the audio and “i know you’ll find them. and you’ll keep them. because they’re from me.” from his card? the arrogance. it’s bewitching. i need him back ASAP i don’t even care if he doesn’t get a real name, i just miss him. come back please 🙏🏻

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #yap yap yap girl be QUIET 😭 #i’ve spent most of today on this post smfh #sweetheart.txt #misc

[lorelite333]

thank you to @sclairereject for the inspiration for the post, because i never have anything to post about half the time. however as someone who does do tarot (i'm spiritual), i wanna put my own twist to this. (ppl have their own interpretations, but the cards still have definitions)

Redacted Boys (includes Alexis) Major Arcana Tarot Cards:

I'd also like to say that these are just my takes, and things that I've noticed and felt. I don't have everyone on here, as I got tired writing this halfway through, so I don't have everyone on here.

SHAW PACK:

David Shaw is the Magician, specifically because he was trying to find his power and voice as leader, in which he did.

Milo Greer is the Chariot, because of sense of direction and will power. He tries his best to do what's right, even if it hurts him in the process.

Asher Talbot is the Strength card, due to his overcoming self-doubt, his compassion, and his bravery in situations. In reverse, this card represents self-doubt, lack of confidence, and vulnerability.

SOLAIRE CLAN

Vincent is the Lovers card, standing by his personality alone, resembling unity, balance, partnerships, and choices.

Sam is the Justice card, associated with fairness, truth, balance, and legal matters. I feel like Sam genuinely cares about what's right, and wants to help no matter what, even if he says he wants to stay out of things. He has this sense to try to make things right, even if things may get rocky. He's a healer by heart, and tries his best to do what's best for everyone in a situation.

William is the Hierophant, it is associated with education, knowledge, traditions, and institutions. I dont really have a reason for this one other than vibes.

Alexis the Judgement card, due to her past actions as well as her personality. This card represents reflection, rebirth, transition, and decision-making. In reverse, this card represents self-doubt, poor choices, stubbornness, blame, and confusion.

Porter is the Tower card. It represents trauma, destruction, unexpected change, revelation, chaos, awakening, and warning. We know that Porter is in fact "The Blade" of the Solaire Clan, and we know that he somewhat regrets it in some way, as well as him having trauma from this and his maker.

DAMN SQUAD

Gavin is The World, as it symbolizes success, fulfilment, and an end of a cycle. I feel like this represents him due to his change with the Freelancer, him being able to open up and enjoy his life with them and his friends. Gavin never really considered Aria his home, but more so just a place he lived at. In his SBW, he talks about how Dhalia has become his home, as Freelancer and the DAMN squad had helped him change his view on it (as well as change him).

Damien is the Sun, mostly in reverse, this academic over-achiever has a little bit of an ego. He's also quite pessimistic and has unrealistic expectations that were set on him by other people. However, the Sun is also associated with positivity, happiness, freedom and vitality. Which I think Damien has learned throughout his years of being friends with the Freelancer, that it's okay to take a break sometimes and just have fun.

Huxley is the Star, as he tries to maintain his happy and positive self for everyone else, turning to inspire others and give them hope with their problems. However Huxley also experiences negativity, hopelessness, failure. I think Huxley somewhat feels like the things in life get too repetitive, and he sometimes loses interest in certain things or just becomes bored with them from a tedious routine.

And finally Lasko, is the Fool, mostly from vibes, however The Fool is an air element card, which represents new beginnings, a leap of faith, and loyalty. Lasko sees the DAMN squad as family, in which he's very loyal to. I feel like during his time at DAMN, he's experienced time after time a new beginning, from Damien and him becoming friends to him and Coworker having a relationship.

#redacted asmr #redacted audios #david shaw #redacted asher #redacted david #redacted milo #milo greer #asher talbot #vincent solaire #redacted vincent #shaw pack #redacted solaire clan #william solaire #alexis solaire #porter solaire #redacted alexis #redacted porter #redacted william #damn squad #redacted gavin #redacted lasko #lasko moore #redacted huxley #redacted damien #redacted damn crew #redactedverse #redacted audio #redacted fandom #redacted sam #samuel collins

[heliza24]

The Radical Act of Quitting (and Wilhelm)

This is a little more personal than my Young Royals metas normally are. It’s really one-half personal essay, one-half show analysis.  It’s something of a spiritual successor to my post about radical acceptance and Simon’s arc in season 2. And it’s also about the reasons why I want Wilhelm to renounce the crown by the end of season 3. (I am stating that early, because I know many people disagree. Feel free to engage but please do so with kindness; a lot of this is quite vulnerable for me.)

I’m disabled. Specifically, I have a chronic condition that began in my early twenties, and slowly got worse and worse until I was finally diagnosed at 28. I’m 31 now, and I’ve had to grieve the person I once was many times over. I used to be a dancer, I used to be an adventurous eater, I used to love to travel. My chronic pain and restrictive medical diet have taken those things away from me, piece by piece. But the thing I mainly want to talk about right now is quitting my job. At the time of my diagnosis, I had worked at my job full time for three years. For a few years after my diagnosis, I tried to remain at my job part-time, because I loved it. I worked in the music industry, and I had the best team of coworkers. I had a great work/life balance, I was never stressed about work. I looked forward to each day in the office. When I went to events and had to introduce myself during an ice-breaker, I would usually include a fact about my job. I found a lot of my identity there. All of my work directly supported musicians, which was something I was very proud of.

So I tried very, very hard to hang on to my job. My company gave out these ridiculously heavy plaques for employees who had been at the company for 5 years, and I was determined to get one. But it was really hard. I could no longer type sitting up for more than a few minutes, so I did every day from my lap desk in bed. (This is still where I write all of my fic and meta!) I struggled to talk to customers on the phone while I was in pain. The office was closed because of the pandemic, but I would have had to work from home regardless because I couldn’t handle the commute.  Every day was a slog. And my pain and fatigue weren’t getting better. In fact they were continuing to get worse as time went on. Finally, my five-year work anniversary arrived. I made it, but I felt like a runner barely stumbling over the finish line. It was the end of 2021. I talked with my friends and my therapist and my disability benefits lawyer. “I don’t think I can keep working,” I would say. And then I would cry, because the thought of letting go of this last part of my identity, when my illness had already taken so much, was so horrible.

After several months of deliberating and grieving, I quit.  My boss begged me to reconsider (God bless him, honestly). Was there anything he could do to better accommodate my needs? Could I work a different schedule to let me sleep more? Could I work freelance on specific projects they really needed me on? I wanted to say yes so badly. But I knew. The longer I held on, the more I fought, the worse my health would become. And the worse my health would become, the more I would struggle with work. The joy I had felt during my first three years in that office had already drained away. I was fighting just to get through each day, and I didn’t want to fight anymore.

I recognize that having the resources and disability benefits to even consider quitting is a huge privilege. There are a lot of disabled and chronically ill folks who struggle through work at great detriment to their health because they can’t afford not to keep working.  So I recognize how lucky I was to be able to quit. I am so grateful for that option, even as I mourn all the things I have lost.

In my meta about Simon, I talked about radical acceptance and how it has been my guiding light as a disabled person. Embracing radical acceptance means that I have done my best to accept what I can and cannot do, and what I can and cannot control, without judgment. I accepted that I needed to walk away from my job. But how was I supposed to define myself without it?

Capitalism defines most peoples’ self-identity, whether they realize it or not. We identify with our jobs, or with the “grind” culture, or with the moral goodness associated with working hard. But here I was, without a job. And I had my whole adult life ahead of me. I had to find a way to make a new identity outside of work.

Around this time, I started to gravitate towards stories where characters are faced with similar decisions, even if I didn’t realize it yet. And let me tell you, there aren’t many of them.

@bluedalahorse and I talk about this a lot. In our ultra-franchised world, the point of stories, even those that are supposedly about rebellions, is often to return characters to the status quo, so that the next movie/comic/episode can pick back up where the last one left off. And when there is a significant change in the status quo, it is usually because the characters worked, and pushed, and struggled to achieve that change. It’s very rare to see a story about someone who walked away from something that was harming them. It’s rarer still to find something that deals with the aftermath, as characters work to re-establish themselves.

I’ve found a lot of comfort in true stories of people leaving cults and high demand religions, and of queer people forced to leave their conservative families behind. In all of these cases, people are consciously abandoning a predominant belief system that is harming them, and have to start over as they craft their new sense of identity. (I am also queer, which adds an additional level of connection). Often people in these situations come to rely on their found family, a thing I have also found to be true in my own life.

I quit my job in between seasons 1 and 2 of Young Royals, and I don’t think I realized how many themes connected my experience to Wilhelm’s until I was watching season 2. Wilhelm is the protagonist of Young Royals, and his central dramatic question has always been: will he fulfill his duty as a royal? Or will he quit, and discover who he is beyond the system he was raised in? Simon is a huge part of this decision, obviously, but the question has never been strictly about Simon.

While I have no personal experience with the monarchy, I do know what it’s like to consider walking away from a role that you assumed you would fill for the rest of your life. I know what it’s like to think about quitting your job.

There’s so much pressure on Wilhelm to assume the role of perfect Crown Prince. He’s told constantly—by Kristina, by Jan-Olof, by the court-- that he can’t let his family or his country down by deviating from this role in any way.

This is a pretty common experience for people who are trying to quit something. They are told that they will let down those around them if they leave. People who are leaving high demand religions are told that they will not be able to enter heaven.  Queer people in conservative families are told they can’t come out because “it would break [elderly relative]’s heart and kill them.” When I quit my job, I thought a lot about how I’d be letting down my coworkers and everyone who knew me as a hyper-competent career-driven person.(This included some of my doctors by the way, who expressed their disappointment in my failure to adhere to their idea of a “worthy” disabled person, i.e. someone who soldiered through the pain and continued to work. Some withdrew care because of this and honestly I will never forgive them). And maybe I was letting people down, and maybe ex-Mormons really will spend the afterlife in outer darkness, and maybe all the grandmas of queer people will be so upset that they kick the bucket when their grandkids come out. But ultimately, if your happiness or safety or well being depends on leaving, it doesn’t really matter. You have to do it anyway.  You have to abandon the things that you can no longer carry. You have to discover who you are on the other side of religion, of the closet, of capitalism.

I think about this every time people in the fandom talk about how Wilhelm leaving the line of succession will create a constitutional crisis, or impact all of Sweden negatively. I am personally pretty anti-monarchist, but I honestly can’t even tell you if I think that Wilhelm removing himself from the line of succession would bring about the end of the Swedish monarchy or not. Honestly, I don’t really care.  I care about Wilhelm. I want him to seek happiness, to search for the future that must live on the other side of this oppressive system he finds himself in. A constitutional crisis? That’s Kristina’s problem, that’s Jan-Olof’s problem, that’s the government’s problem. Radical acceptance means focusing on the things you can control, and Wilhelm can only control his own happiness.

When this issue gets debated, I often see people argue that Wilhelm is too young to make the decision to give up the throne. But the reality is that we ask teenagers to make decisions about their futures all the time. @bluedalahorse wrote a great piece of meta about that here. I love what she said so much I’m going to quote it directly:

Nonetheless, we ask teenagers of Sara and Wilhelm’s ages to think about decisions that affect their future all the time. We ask them to consider what career they’ll pursue or what university to attend. Teenagers who grow up in various denominations of Christianity consider whether they’re going to go through with Confirmation or sometimes Baptism. Other religions (ones where I can’t speak from as much personal experience) have various other rites of passage around this age, and various cultures have coming of age rituals. For some teens, they do these things willingly and with their whole heart, whereas for others, they do it to please their parents or families or for the social norms of it all.

And if Wilhelm is too young to decide to give up the throne, how can he be old enough to decide to keep it? Surely the decision to take on the governance of a country, even in a symbolic way, requires as much, if not more, maturity than the decision to pursue a less high-powered career elsewhere.

When people in the fandom claim that Wilhelm is too young to make this decision, I hear Kristina telling Wilhelm to wait until he’s 18 to come out, because only then will he be responsible enough to deal with the consequences. That’s a delaying tactic, and nothing more. People who don’t want you to leave will ask you to delay your decision over and over again, because they think that if they can kick the can down the road just a little farther, they’ll never have to lose you.

I also see people argue that Wilhelm isn’t qualified to make a decision because he doesn’t know enough about the “real world” to know what he is choosing. To be honest I don’t think most teenagers know much about the “real world”. I definitely didn’t. But we ask them to make decisions that will affect their futures anyway. And here’s another way to look at this: Wilhelm has plenty of places he can look to for examples of how “ordinary” people live. He can find out what it’s like to be from a noble but non-royal family from the students at Hillerska. He can talk to Simon and Linda about what their lives are like. He can read the millions of books, or watch the thousands of movies and TV shows that feature non-royal protagonists and were created by non-royal artists. But only Wilhelm knows what it is like to be Crown Prince. No one else has had that experience. So I would argue that actually, Wilhelm is the only one qualified to make this call.

Ultimately, the agency and mental capacity of people who are quitting is often doubted, usually by the people who have the most to gain by keeping them in place.

So many people have so much invested in maintaining the status quo. And as soon as you invest in a system, someone daring to leave puts your world view into question. Why are you dealing with so many oppressive rules if someone else can just leave? We see this a lot with high demand religions and cults; if someone threatens to break free, the members often join ranks and work together to pressure them to stay. What has your sacrifice as a woman in a patriarchal religion meant, for example, if another woman can decide to simply walk away? Does Kristina’s grim life of duty and sacrifice matter, if Wilhelm can just opt out and seek happiness instead? 

Then of course, there are all the benefits that an oppressive system confers on its most privileged members. Those benefits are in danger of disappearing if enough people quit, so high ranking people will work to keep others in line.  Think about all the people who benefit from the monarchy: all the staff who work for the royal family, all the nobles who get their reputation by proximity to the monarch, and everyone in Sweden who in general benefits from the image that a long-standing institution of white, straight, conservative power projects.

And those aren’t people Wilhelm needs to be responsible for (or should be concerned with placating, to be honest). If the monarchy fails because Wilhelm leaves, it’s because there’s always been a fault in the system. Those relying on this outdated system have signed their own fate.

No one knows fully what life will be like after they quit. That’s the radical acceptance part of quitting. You have to make a blind leap, and discover a whole new world once you land. Wilhelm is no more sheltered than anyone before they take this leap. Everyone who quits—a religion, a cult, a job—has to go through this process of rediscovery.  You have to learn by doing. People do that successfully all the time, and I believe that Wilhelm can too.

When I was talking about this meta with @bluedalahorse, we talked a lot about Plato’s allegory of the cave. That story goes something like this:

Several prisoners have been kept inside a cave their entire life. They are chained to the spot, and cannot move. They are facing the back wall of the cave. Behind them is a fire, and in between them and the fire, their captors walk back and forth, casting shadows on the wall. Because the prisoners have been kept in the cave their entire life and have only ever seen shadows, they think the shadows are real. They think the only thing that exists in the world is shadows. Until one day, one of the prisoners is set free. He goes outside for the first time, where he is blinded by the sun and overwhelmed by stimulus. But he discovers the real world. He now knows that the shadows he was used to are pale imitations of the real things. He’s so excited that he goes back to tell his fellow prisoners what he has learned. But the prisoners get angry at him for challenging their world view. They don’t believe him, no matter what he says.

There are a lot of ways you can interpret this story. Some people think that Plato is talking about the role of philosophers in society. Some people use it to explain a philosophical concept he writes about elsewhere called “forms”. But I think one thing is clear. Plato didn’t write the allegory of the cave (and it didn’t stick around in human imagination for thousands of years) because he thought you should stay in the cave. Leaving the cave is hard. You will be met with resistance. But discovering the real world, when you were only seeing shadows before, is worth it.

I want Wilhelm to leave to be happy, to see the real world instead of shadows. But I also believe it’s what the story demands. It’s the only answer that makes asking the dramatic question—should Wilhelm conform or rebel?—worthwhile to me.

To be king, but to be the first gay king, would be such an unsatisfactory ending for me. It reminds me of how hard I tried to keep my job—by working from bed, by reducing my hours. My boss could do the best he could to be accommodating, but ultimately working was harming me. You can’t adapt the monarchy enough to make it a non-damaging space for Wilhelm, because there will always be people pressuring him to conform to its straight, stoic ideals. Those ideals have been around for hundreds of years, and to put all of the burden of reforming them on Wilhelm is unfair and unrealistic. If he does stay, I see him struggling to change a system that is not designed for him. Even if he does make small victories for representation or inclusion in that context, it will come at an enormous emotional cost. I just don’t think it’s worth it. Not when there’s a whole world where Wilhelm could be doing good, important work– in whatever arena he chooses– that won’t also come along with inherent emotional trauma. 

Believe me, there’s a whole world to be discovered after you walk away from something that’s damaging you. You grieve, yes, but you also grow. Since quitting I’ve been able to love my friends harder, to treat myself better, to give back to the disabled community.  I think if you talk to most people who have committed a similar act of radical quitting they’ll say the same thing.  I want this future for Wilhelm, but I also want this kind of story to exist for all of us. I want there to be a story that represents those of us who have had to make these kinds of decisions. I want there to be a story that can encourage people who are currently wrestling with their desire to leave and the pressure to stay. And I want there to be a story that shows the hope, the bravery, and the self-belief that is required to walk away and seek a brighter future.

#young royals #prince wilhelm #wilhelm young royals #my meta #my crip media reviews #this turned out to be very long thank you if you read it all

[plutobutartsy]

some freelancer headcanons surrounding their apartment

their apartment is actually quite small since they can't afford a bigger one but it has big windows that make up for this with lots of natural light!

because it's so small they don't have a bathtub, only a small shower, gavin was devastated when he found out

whenever freelancer is really stressed gavin will book a room in a nice hotel for a few nights so they can spread out on a huge bed and take hour long baths together (don't ask him where he got the money from)

freelancer is kind of a neat freak, they can't stand being in a messy enviornment

they always were really clean but once they moved into that small apartment it just amplified by ten since things get even more cramped when it's messy

i might be projecting but i think freelancer has depression which makes their need for a clean space really unfortunate, since it can get really hard for them to keep up with cleaning. you can tell by how messy their apartment is getting that they're entering a depressive episode. cleaning just feels like such an impossible task and they end up feeling worse and worse, it's kind of like a downward spiral

of course gavin helps and cleans up for them but they also have a habit of becoming very reclusive during an episode, so sometimes they straight up won't let him do it

they really like plants but they suck at keeping them alive so they only have a few that are easy to care for

gavin brings them fresh flowers every week, they keep them in a beautiful vase that they bought from an old lady at a yard sale

before composting a bouquet, they will take at the very least one petal to press dry and keep in their scrapbook. they write the flower name and the date they got them next to it

every window sill is absolutely COVERED in things. crystals, sea shells, pretty stones, coins, small clay sculptures, literally any trinket you could think of

they also have a bunch of wind chimes near all windows, some from local artists and others thrifted and re-painted together with caelum

sometimes when lasko visits and he notices freelancer being tense or worried, he'll deliberately make the chimes jingle to help freelancer relax. it works every time and so far they haven't caught on yet

their entire fridge is completely covered with drawings by caelum, it's gotten to the point that they expanded via a pinboard that now hangs over their kitchen table

lots of posters in their room!! as mentioned, they love supporting local artists so many of them are bought in person at local music events

community is also really important to them so they tried to form close bonds with all of their neighbours early on! they immediately introduced themselves once they moved in and they try to help out with whatever they can, wether that be lending out flour and sugar or going grocery shopping for someone when they fall ill, freelancer will do it!!

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #redacted headcanons #stella's ideas

[maspers]

YO WEBCOMIC FANS

Okay, so I haven't actually asked you before. But you get my drift.

Hero Oh Hero (starts here https://www.neorice.com/hoh_1 ) is a pixel art webcomic by @neorice, and it's one of the most creative webcomics I've ever seen. It's got fantasy. It's got superheroes. It's got horror. It's got comedy. It's got spies and wars and wizards who set things on fire. LOTS of fire, really. It's got death games and intrigue. It's got flashbacks. It's got flash-FORWARDS. It's got brilliant characters with tons of variety. It's got multiple complex magic systems that interact with each other in interesting ways. And it's all done in GORGEOUS pixel art with cool and distinct designs for every single character, item, and setting. Seriously, this comic has everything you could ever want from a webcomic (well, it's not Homestuck, but Homestuck is basically an anime so it doesn't count).

The storytelling methods take a bit of getting used to since the chapters bounce around between the comic's multiple main protagonists. You will think the protagonists and their adventures are completely unconnected. THEY AREN'T. You read and you read and suddenly you realize "hang on this is that one thing from the other storyline" and then you GASP and are in awe. It's so brilliant.

Also, on a personal note Noah is quite possibly one of my favorite characters (if not the favorite) to ever be in a Webcomic. He's right up there with Terezi (from Homestuck, which again doesn't count due to being an anime), Remi (from Unordinary), Bun-Bun (from Sluggy Freelance) and Erin (from Aurora, which... also might count as an anime). Noah experiences nothing but suffering from the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to sleep, and when he DOES go to sleep it gets worse. Literally nobody (including him) wants him to be important but he keeps finding himself in Situations and he deserves basically none of it. He practically bleeds snark. He is so tired and done with everything but everything is not done with him so he just has to deal, and that makes him the most relatable character even imo. I'd recommend reading the comic for him alone, but trust me the other protags are awesome as well. There's something in this comic for everyone, and I think it is a CRIME that this comic is not popular when it really REALLY deserves to be.

Read Hero Oh Hero. PLEASE. I promise you won't regret it.

(Oh and did I mention that the comic is still updating? The quality never drops, and the current arc is REALLY exciting and has some really cool lore drops about the setting as a whole. HOH is truly the gift that keeps on giving.)

#hero oh hero #heroohhero #webcomic #fantasy #sci fi #superheroes #hoh #please read this comic #i need people to see this #so that i can geek out about it with someone #please im so lonely #idk how to tag this

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

I am not any less sad about the dog. I have merely discovered, over the past few months, that even fewer people than I expected understand. He was not just some animal I loved--and I say this as someone with a great love and respect for animals and the bonds we form. The bond we have with dogs is different on a species level. The co-evolution is unique to the point that dogs do gaze recognition just like we do: they read human faces in the same order humans read human faces. They understand pointing innately, as no other mammal does--chimps included. And on and on and on...

And yet it's also true that Ernesto was not just some dog, and not just my dog. He was eerily and irritatingly intelligent, which is why I couldn't have him watched by just any one. I was in more of a dialogue with that dog than many people are with their human spouses. I showed him things in my hands, offered them for a sniff. He would stop on walks after sniffing something particularly interesting, and then look back at me, offering me a moment to check out what he'd found. I would lean over and look, and only then would he move on. We did not always understand each other but also: he had those talking buttons towards the end of his life, and he used them. So I do also literally mean that this dog and I talked. We spoke. With words.

Were his favorite words "food" and "no" and "now"? Sure. But frankly, are my favorite words that far off? Are yours, if you really think about it?

Part of my frustration is my usual frustration. People write about dogs as silly and ever cheerful and I find this to be a disgustingly shallow and simplified view of dogs, actually. I do not find it heartwarming in the least. A poet writing about the ever happy nature of all dogs does not strike me as insightful. They strike me as stupid about dog behavior. They strike me as a poor ethologist with only rudimentary capacity for theory of mind at best.

People talk about dogs as harmless, as stupid little not quite people who live artlessly in their homes.

Dogs on the whole are far more complex than you think.

But it's also--oh, all my life I've been head over heels for the working breeds, the hunting dogs. Big dangerous intelligent dogs, bred for their capacity to make snap second decisions independently because you, the human, cannot possibly shout out precise commands fast enough to pin down a wild boar. You and the dog work together, but for some parts of the hunt? That dog is fucking freelancing, baby. That dog is improvising. Or take the livestock guardian dog--you're not instructing him on anti-coyote tactics. When the predators show up late at night, it is all up to that dog to figure out how to play it.

They're smart. They have opinions. Ernie was just also really invested in conveying his opinions about things. And the talking buttons aren't just about the talking buttons; the talking buttons allow you to confirm, with words, the translations of nonverbal cues. He was thrilled when he got a button for "no"! But he also didn't need a button for "no" because he said "no" very clearly with a disdainful scoff/sneeze/chuff. And I know this because when he had the button and I would ask him to do something he did not want to do, he would go: scoff/sneeze *button mash: "NO"* scoff/sneeze.

(translation: NO. no. also: no.)

But all of that aside, all that extra connection and tenderness you get from communicating in your own native tongue, and knowing this little being is making the effort to communicate with you in the way you want and understand

(even though he thinks it's stupid and he often sneezes disdainfully at the buttons before deigning to use them)

(I cannot confirm this but there was a look he gave me sometimes that I would swear meant something like: "I know that you know what I mean, and you don't need me to use the buttons but I will do it to make you happy. But it's stupid." lingering eye contact, defiant posture, more intense eye contact, eventual punchy button usage)

But ALL OF THAT ASIDE, all of it.

When most people say "my pet saved my life," they mean something heart warming and emotional and that's nice and important. I'm not knocking that.

But when I say it

What I mean

Is that more than once this dog put his life on the line for mine. At least once, I absolutely would have died. I had no answer for the size of the physical threat upon us. And the other two times I can clearly think of--my odds weren't great. Sans dogs, my odds were, like. Bad. Pretty shit, actually.

So did that dog have a bite history? Technically, yes. Did he ever get in trouble for it? No, because ultimately he had flawless target selection and he understood when someone--dog or man--truly meant me significant physical harm.

So here's what it is, right. Here. Listen.

That dog saved my life. More than once. Very literally. I mean in a flesh and blood way, an immediate way, a non-metaphorical way.

He could save me and so he did, more than once.

And ultimately, when he needed it, I could not do the same. I could not save him from lung cancer. And yes, he was 13, only 3 months away from 14. And he was a big dog, and they mostly don't live too long. Sure, sure, sure.

But the point is he handed my life back to me. And I couldn't do that for him. You know? Not all the love and worry and time and money and care I put into it made the difference. The surgery prolonged his life by a few months and his quality of life was much better for it. The chemo did nothing but at least it didn't hurt him.

I tried. Yes.

But Ernie Dog, when he tried for me, succeeded.

And I don't know how to explain the debt of that to people. I think it's too uncomfortable for people to think about so they rush to platitudes. "You did your best!" Sure. And it wasn't enough. "You did more than most anyone would!" Yes, but most people suck. Even the people who have the money often suck. No shade to those who don't. "He was loved!" Obviously. And he loved me. Thus why he saved my life. And I couldn't save his. Exactly. That's my point.

So there's nothing to do with that but live with it, and no medicine for me now besides time.

But fuck. So few people get it. And I get that there's a limit to how long people will listen to you about your dearly departed dog. But mostly I don't want to talk about it because almost nobody understands. Do you know what it is to have someone prove they would die for you? I do. It's a horrible debt even when a human does it.

It's even worse when it's a dog.

#dogs #everybody's got #that One Dog #y'know? #text post

[gainingfiction]

Lifetime Supply: Epilogue

(read chapter 10 by gainerstories here)

Two Years Later

Ryan was just finishing the last of a defrosted cheesecake when Luke walked in the door. He looked very sharp—and very buff—in his office attire. Sometimes, Ryan wondered if it was all a sugar-induced dream, imagining he would wake up from a food coma and find himself still living with Ahmed. But that never happened. Ryan got to spend every day with his beautiful boyfriend, who loved finding new ways to keep him happy and fed. Very happy, and very, very well fed.

“Hey, big boy,” Luke said, bumping the door closed with his hip. His arms were full of bulging grocery bags, which he set down on the counter. “Big day?”

“Hardly,” Ryan answered. He’d done a little bit of freelance coding, and spent the rest of the day trying to resist the urge to finish one of his weekly Adesco boxes. Normally he wouldn’t even try, but with Ahmed and Cory’s wedding coming up, he was conscious of the need to fit into his (still very new) suit. “Same old, same old. How about you?”

“Well, I had a very interesting meeting at work today,” Luke said, sitting down at the table beside Ryan.

“Oh yeah?” Ryan asked. “What about?”

“About you, actually,” Luke said, with a smirk. “It was quite a meeting. We had people from marketing, legal, someone from accounting… apparently feeding you is costing the company a fortune.”

Ryan smirked. It was incredibly erotic to imagine a room of executives filled with exasperation about how much he ate. He wasn’t just fat—he was fat enough to make a multinational food corporation take notice. Luke reached out and started massaging his gut, setting in motion a wave of jiggling flesh.

“And… well, as an Adesco employee, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but as your horny boyfriend, I can’t resist. There’s really nothing they can do about it. They have to give you as much as you want,” Luke said with a grin. “Apparently the contest’s terms and conditions were a complete shitshow. Basically all it said was ‘lifetime supply’. Nothing about a weekly maximum, or an end date. Kelly from legal was beside herself. She said if Adesco ever tried to turn off the tap, you could sue the hell out of us.”

Ryan laughed, pleasure radiating through him as Luke’s fingers sank into his blubber. “I didn’t realize I was such a concern.”

“Oh, a big one. Let’s just say they’re never going to do another lifetime supply snack giveaway again. I guess appetites have grown since 1977. I did point out that you’ve been pretty helpful with product development,” Ryan said.

“What did they say to that?”

“They didn’t disagree. They wanted me to call you more often to get feedback on new products. And to keep you happy,” Luke said, his grin widening.

“Wow, I’m starting to think our whole relationship is some elaborate customer service scheme,” Ryan joked. He unwrapped a snack cake from the box on the floor and dug in.

“Well, am I keeping you… satisfied?” Luke said, still working his magic on Ryan’s expansive gut. He waggled his eyebrows, making Ryan chuckle.

“Very,” Ryan said. “And it’s nice to have a mole on the inside… my own corporate spy.”

Luke leaned over and kissed Ryan, who inhaled with pleasure as Luke’s fingers roamed his paunchy middle. He was so monstrously fat now—fatter than he ever could have imagined. He knew he wasn’t exactly helping things with the endless stream of fat-filled snacks he inhaled on a regular basis, but he didn’t expect to continue packing on the pounds at lightning speed. Not that Luke seemed to mind.

They made out a little more, and Ryan was getting ready to move things into the bedroom when his stomach let out a loud, angry gurgle. “Indigestion?” Luke asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“Starvation,” Ryan said, dramatically. “I’ve been depriving myself all day to fit into my suit,” Ryan explained, as he licked the remaining chocolate off his fingers. A lot of it had found its way onto poor Luke’s dress shirt, but that was a problem for the dry cleaners—hardly a concern in Ryan’s horny state.

“Well, we can’t have you wasting away,” Luke said. He sounded serious. He slipped off the chair, leaving Ryan’s shirt bunched up above his deep, gaping navel. Naked fat cascaded out in front of him, pooling across his lap. “How about I make you some dinner?”

Ryan couldn’t say yes fast enough.

The next day, Luke and Ryan dressed for the wedding. Luke looked godlike in his form-fitting three-piece suit, his pants flattering his muscular thighs and ample bubble butt, with his broad shoulders and wide lats framed by his jacket. If they didn’t have somewhere to be, Ryan would have ripped the damn thing off of him then and there. He still didn’t understand how Luke managed to stay so jacked in a house packed to bursting with processed snacks.

Ryan’s own suit was another matter. It flattered his build in a… different way. He’d only gotten it back from the shop a week before, but already the fabric spread tight across his vast backside, framing each buttock, and the jacket was a little snug around the waist. It was a testament to the stunning pace of his continued expansion. He looked at himself in the mirror. The man looking back was fucking big. Not just big, but massive. Monumental. He slipped a hand under his gut, feeling the soft cotton of his button-down cradling his overwhelming belly. He gave it a little shake, appreciating the sheer scale of himself, the manliness he felt when he looked at the behemoth in the mirror. That was all him.

Luke appeared beside him, and draped an arm across Ryan’s wide, sloping shoulders. He was smiling. “You clean up nice,” he said. “Although I don’t know how much more use you’re gonna get out of that suit.”

Ryan smirked. “Well, it’ll be fun while it lasts. I’m just glad I can still get it on for the big day.”

When it came to clothing men of size, Gerry was a miracle worker—and so was Antoine, it turned out. Ryan was shocked to see his former fuckbuddy waddling around the big and tall store, looking about a hundred pounds heavier than the last time Ryan had seen him. All of his feeding had finally caught up with him, it seemed. If it wasn’t for the name tag, Ryan might not have recognized him. They were quick to put any awkwardness or unpleasantness behind them: Antoine’s added girth had added to his perspective, and he still had a keen eye for style. The result was a very sharp suit that still managed to show off every pound of Ryan’s expansive body. He couldn’t have been happier with it.

When they were all suited up, Ryan lumbered his way to the car and loaded his bulk into the passenger seat. Bucket seats were getting more than a little uncomfortable, but Luke’s SUV was still decently spacious, and the seatbelt extender was a help. He cranked the AC—a summer wedding sounded nice in theory, but considering how much he was already sweating, Ryan had a feeling he’d prefer to tie the knot during one of the cooler months of the year.

The venue was lovely, and decorated to perfection. Still conscious of his furniture mishap a few years back—and the strain he was putting on his couch—Ryan made a point of pushing two chairs together before sitting down. That earned him a few looks from the more trim guests, but Ryan didn’t care; those looks would be nothing compared to the looks he’d get if his fat ass totalled another chair and sent him sprawling in the middle of the ceremony.

Ryan was glad Luke had pulled over for some fast food on the way over; he wasn’t used to going more than an hour without eating, and as erotic as the prospect sounded in theory, he knew he’d be mortified if his stomach started growling before the ‘I do’s.

When the ceremony started, Ryan got the chance to check out his best friend. Ahmed was downright huge. He’d packed on a ton of muscle, but he’d clearly put on even more fat, judging by the way he filled out his suit. It seemed that his bulk was still ongoing, and Ryan couldn’t see that ending any time soon. He was an impressive specimen, though, with vast, meaty legs and a pair of beefy boy-breasts that poked at the front of his dress shirt, perky from the muscle that lurked beneath layers of juicy fat. He wasn’t close to Ryan’s size, but there was no denying that he had a seriously fat belly on him.

And in a surprising twist, Cory had stacked on a noticeable amount of weight himself. He was still a fraction of the size of Ryan, and far smaller than his soon-to-be-husband, but the former twink was looking undeniably chubby. He had a plump little belly and a round, prominent booty that jiggled slightly with every step. Ahmed must love that, Ryan thought, smiling to himself.

“What are you grinning about?” Luke whispered to him.

“Nothing,” Ryan said. “They just look happy together. I didn’t think Ahmed was the marrying kind, but they both look… domesticated.” It was true—Ahmed and Cory were looking at each other with pure adoration.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Luke said. He gave a wry smile. “I can only imagine how they’re gonna look after a few years of marriage.”

“Everyone loves a chubby hubby,” Ryan said. He thought of Jason, who—if his Instagram could be trusted—still seemed trapped in an endless revolving door of yoga boys and CrossFitters. “Well, anyone with taste.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Luke said. He took Ryan’s hand. He rested his other hand on his slender torso. “Being around all those Adesco snacks… well, it’s getting hard to keep up my diet.”

Ryan interlocked his chubby fingers with Luke’s slim ones. “Well, I’m sure Antoine and Gerry would be happy to have a new customer.”

“And you? Would you… like a chubby hubby of your own?” Luke’s eyes were wide, hopeful.

Ryan beamed at him. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I would.”

#weight gain #male weight gain #gay #gaining fiction #gainer stories #realistic gain #belly #bhm #lifetime supply