#the seams between these scenes are really obvious

[isekyaaa]

Some of my stories I used to really like now grate upon me like coarse sandpaper. Reading them feels like brushing my fingers against a splinter ridden wooden board. They're so disjointed and un-flowy they annoy me. That being said, I don't think feeling that way is necessarily a bad thing. I'm not getting on myself and putting myself down or anything. I feel this way because I know I can do better. If I had a second chance I can write those stories way better. That being said, those stories give me such distaste that I'm kind of confused why some of them have their fans haha

#rambles #i'm talking about the bookkeeping! series #to me reader comes off as too overly aggressive in the beginning #and act like a stereotypical tsun at other times #i need to make it more.... consistent #i think the hard thing is that i get lazy a lot #sometimes i write the big scenes first and i get really lazy when coming up with exposition to connect such scenes #the seams between these scenes are really obvious #well it just shows places i can improve

[pictureinme]

kinktober day iii. ROLE-PLAY – robert fischer

word count: ~800 tags: d/s dynamics, teacher rp, spanking, rimming, hand jobs masterlist | ao3

“You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you, Mr. Fischer?”

He looks up at you from his kneeling position on the floor, eyes nervous and flitting everywhere, “Yes, ma’am… I’ve been bad.”

Smirking, you circle him. You’re donned in a very cheap Halloween costume that was labeled “Tantalizing Teacher,” something that caught Robert’s eye while browsing the web. Admittedly, you were intrigued by it too, knowing his tendency to… submit, and he immediately put it in his cart. You paired it with the sluttiest red heels you could find, towering over him easily.

Tilting his chin up with your ruler, you pout, “Am I supposed to pity you?”

“No, no, not at all.”

“Then what do I do with bad boys like you, hm? Do I just let them off easy?”

The edge of the ruler traces his jawline, threatening to slap him at any given moment, “I think you punish them, ma’am.”

“Finally, a good answer from you. Why aren’t you this receptive in class, Mr. Fischer? We could’ve avoided all this… unless you wanted it?”

A sweat droplet forms on his forehead as you move the ruler to rest on his quivering bottom lip, “I just want you, Miss, that’s all.”

You roll your eyes, huffing, “Take your slacks off and get on the bed, ass up. Now.”

Robert scrambles upwards, unbuckling his belt with no precision whatsoever. The desperation was evident as he was left only in his boxers, a wet spot forming on the fabric. He crawls onto the bed, never making eye contact with you for fear of breaking any boundaries of the scene.

He followed your directions to a T, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the humiliating position he was in. His ass was practically shaking with anticipation, eager for whatever you would give him.

“Desperate to be punished, aren’t you? Pathetic, really.”

You hear Robert try to bite back a whimper, and you don’t hesitate to smack him with the ruler. His noises fail to cease, and you know what you have to do. You slide your damp panties down your legs, “Turn around.”

Hesitantly, Robert turns, struggling to stay somewhat in his aforementioned position. You pick up your knickers and shove them between his freshly bitten lips.

“Now, if you manage to make any noise with that in your mouth, you’re not cumming for a week.”

The fear in his eyes is obvious, but he obeys your command, nodding. Robert gets back into position, albeit more nervously. You smile at the control you have over this otherwise powerful man– you’ve seen the way a simple hand gesture could give him the world, but not in this room.

You trace the seams of his boxers with the ruler, giving him a false sense of security. When you snap it back on him, he jerks forward, but makes no sound, “Good boy.”

Robert’s shoulders shudder at your praise, he was so easy to please in this particular headspace. You move his boxers down his quivering thighs, watching as his hole flutters eagerly. How bold was his body to assume you’d grace him with a toy tonight when this was his punishment?

With his underwear now out of the way, you spread his cheeks harshly, and spit dead-center. Robert lurches forward involuntarily, but you don’t reprimand him for it. He had bigger things to worry about controlling as you licked a stripe up his entrance. You heard a muffled groan from him and laughed as you continued to touch him in ways you’d never done before.

You grip tightly at his leaking hardness, beginning to inch your tongue slowly into him. Robert trembles slightly in your hand, and you grin as you lick inside. Beginning to pump him harshly, but slowly, his back arches into your touch. It was so painful, but so good.

He shakes as you touch him in such filthy ways, but he can’t deny the fact that this was the hardest he had ever been in his life. Every time your hand moves up and down, the flick of your wrist makes him feel closer and closer. This doesn’t go unnoticed by you as your tongue goes even deeper inside of Robert, his tightness doing nothing to stop you.

“Gonna come for me, big boy?” He hesitates before nodding vehemently, deciding not to risk making noise. “Better clean it up after, hm?”

Robert continues to nod as you increase your pace and kiss around his hole. He can’t handle the gentle yet dominant persona you suddenly took on, and he thrusts pathetically into your touch. His moans break through the thin barrier of your panties, desperate and submissive.

You grin as his hot release spills all over your fingers and the duvet, his hole clenching around nothing as you leave a biting kiss on his reddened cheek. Robert collapses onto the bed face-first with a groan, continuously shaking into his orgasm.

His sorry little movements had you kissing all over his cheeks down to the crook of his knees, “You did so good, Robert, so fucking good for me…”

#robert fischer x reader #robert fischer smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #kinktober 2023

[iwonderwh0]

Just a snippet that got written in response to me thinking about how androids aren't affected by stinking environment while humans are, and how this difference can become really obvious if given the circumstances, like such in which Hank and Connor got to a gruesome crime scene.

Not long after just stepping in, Hank escaped back to the front entrance.

"Jusus fuck..," he mumbled stepping outside.

"What's the matter?" Connor called from the corridor, "Did you see something?"

"No," human said, breathing in the air.

"Are you going to stand outside or what? Should I wait for you?"

Hank cursed under his breath, stretched his shirt above his nose and went back inside. Connor started forward without waiting for him catching up. When they got to the living room with the body plastered in one of the corners, android finally spared him a glance.

"You look ridiculous," he commented, "I just thought you'd appreciate me telling you."

Hank opened his mouth to say something in response, perhaps to be snarky about it, but as he tried, the stench entered his system once again and he started coughing violently as a result.

Connor frowned in confusion but said nothing, deriving his attention to the body instead – the source of this absolutely murderous reek. He walked ahead and coached down looking it up and down.

"Fuck, this place makes me wanna vomit," Hank muttered and folded trying to stop himself from coughing again, looking around in search of a window or something to open just to see all the windows within reach sealed with planks. He groaned feeling his eyes water.

"It doesn't even look that bad, I'm sure you've seen worse," Connor said lifting something from the ground next to the body.

"Hey, hands! We don't want your fingertips imprinted into the evidence."

Connor turned around and spared him a long glance. Wordlessly he tilted his head and slightly raised his eyebrows.

"What, you mean you don't have any?"

Instead of answering Connor put the object down, then raised his hands in a defeated gesture with palms facing Hank and retracted the skin from them, leaving his hands white with dim blue light shining through the seams in-between phalanges of his fingers.

"Come look yourself if you don't believe me," he said.

Hank scoffed and decided to ignore him, choosing instead to look around the room for maybe less stinking pieces of information. The smell didn't exactly fade out nor stopped bothering him, but not stepping any closer to the source of it, Hank almost managed to gaslight himself into believing it's not that bad, that he adjusted. Or that he will, soon.

He looked at the shelves filled with unopened collectables – figurines embodying different anime characters, mostly young-looking girls with short skirts and unnatural hair-color. Hank wouldn't be able to name any, not like he really cared about anime at any point of his life. In fact, he found the topic weirdly repulsive -- the same kind of repulsive he used to think about androids too. Too polished, too removed from anything having to do with reality of thing, so "perfect" to the point of becoming its own kind of gross, created solely for the goal of appealing to those willing to pay for it. People like that one person, whose dead body was now lying on the floor and filling the room with the kind of reek Hank could still almost taste on his mouth.

God damn it.

Finally he noticed that among the boxes with anime characters there are occasional boxes with some biocomponents. Long numerical sequences printed on the side of identical white boxes, indicating different content. Why couldn't CyberLife just name them like something you can actually read and make sense of? Hank thought grimly and instantly thought about probable answer himself.

Yeah, of course, that's so that common folk wouldn't try fixing them things on their own without 'professional' assistance.

"Hey, Connor," Hank called and turned around just in time to see the android moving his two fingers in the direction of his mouth, covered with -- undoubtedly -- human blood from a week and a half dead body. Connor lifted his head at his name and their eyes met. Without breaking established eye contact android didn't stop, but, in fact, finished his started action with his tongue coming in contact with the substance on his fingers.

Nope, that's it.

Hank's insides turned at the sight, and combined with mind-boggling awareness of the smell so intense in the air to the point of being practically tasted, inevitable happened -- and previously devoured for lunch turkey sandwich started to search its way up for an emergency evacuation.

---

When Connor ripped one of the planks from the window and reached for the handle to open it, the expression on his face was hard to decipher. On the surface it expressed nothing. In practice it was the expression that meant the most amount of conflict happening beneath.

"You could have said something earlier about the smell, if it really bothered you so much."

"You could have given me a fucking warning," Hank covered his mouth and frowned for a moment as the memory alone threatened to evoke a second wave of reaction from his growling stomach, "Jesus fuck..."

"Wait, was it about me?" Connor stopped from ripping out another plank and turned.

"You and your fucking-" Hank trailed off into another gag, "Oh god..."

To Hank's surprise, android smirked. He shook his head, and then -- Hank was probably high on whatever psychodelic properties the stench might have had on him -- he chuckled.

"You think it's funny," Hank said. It wasn't as much a question as it was a statement.

"If you could see yourself, you'd understand. Wait, I'll send you a picture."

Hank's phone pulsed in his pocket. For the first time he wished he could delete a message without opening it.

#dbh #dbh connor #dbh hank #detroit become human #snippets from my notes #platoniconk #it's not from my notes though I literally have just written it now

[bonefall]

Does Tiny Branch still die from his wounds/sickness because Clear Sky's won't ask for help?

Tiny Branch's existence is currently up in the air because of how significantly overhauled BB!DOTC is compared to canon

BB!Star Flower isn't his cute little mate who provides him with a bunch of reward-kittens. She's a Priestess of One Eye, a demigod in her own right, and she uses him as a supernatural blood sacrifice by bleeding Skystar out 8 times.

Moth Flight's Vision is now Moth Flight's Vow, and Skystar's role is utterly changed in it. There's 0 need to create another baby to violently kill to serve Skystar's arc in BB; I'm honestly sickened that these fucking writers even considered the idea

ANYWAY take this concept art of BB!One Eye my partner and I made a couple weeks ago. May this tide you over until after the WindClan tree is done

CW blood and BODY HORROR. My partner is a HORROR ARTIST. There's HORROR and it's BODIED.

[ID: Some sketches of One Eye. One is a sketch of a cave lion licking its lips, the other is a bloody-faced cat-lion creature with its tongue hanging out]

We were trying to figure out a good balance between cat and lion, plus how we were going to approach his missing eye. This is from the "scene" where One Eye eats Tom

[ID: A cave lion creature with an X-shaped eye scar, cracking open to reveal something firey deep within it]

We really liked this scar shape for his missing eye until we realized it looked kinda like an Xbox... but, anyway, we started really leaning into the body horror angle of this THING breaking apart the body, rearranging it into the shape of a cave lion, like One Eye is ripping its vessel to shreds and rearranging it to fit his needs

So we started playing with the idea that when it's doing something like this, assuming a "higher form," its "real" eye pushes through the empty socket. Partner pitched the idea of the eye looking like that of an eagle, we played with a couple bird designs

[ID: A bedraggled looking cat-owl creature. The second sketch replaces the nose and chin with a sharp beak]

We toyed with some bird-heavy designs for a bit. I actually really like the weird bird/feline hybrid thing I made on the right there, I'm thinking about turning it into another type of mythical creature, or saving it for some other project

The first one's not super clear, but I pitched the idea of the lip "peeling" back like a gelada to reveal skull. We ended up moving away from it

[ID: The BB version of One Eye. He's a big, ragged cat who looks like he's falling apart at the seams]

We wanted to make it obvious, just by looking at this dude, that there's something... taxidermic about him. Like he shouldn't be alive, and something deeply unnatural is at play here. The demon for whom death is a dinnerbell.

[ID: Another sketch, but this time with sunken eyes, and a missing eye that looks like more of a long stitch.]

This was the last one we passed between us before we ended up writing some COOL stuff for Sun Shadow, and chased the joy of discovery down that path. We really like the 'sunken' look in this one's sockets-- and I really like the idea of the scar on that side connecting his facial stripes like a stitch.

And yeah that's enough for now, still working on him.

#tw blood #blood #cw blood #body horror #cw body horror #sketches #bone babble

[buffyspeak]

obviously there are much more obvious and physically brutal tools of oppression the capitol employs against the districts, but something i find especially cruel and sinister is how often they weaponize an illusion of choice.

the careers can train for years and choose to volunteer and have even have a significant upper hand in the games, but the indoctrination in those districts runs so deep, they seem to forget (or i guess actively reframe, if the idea that many of them express that they're bringing "pride to their district" is anything to go by") that at the end of the day, they are being sent to slaughter as much as anyone else. if the careers stopped volunteering, they wouldn't suddenly be exempt from the games. and even in the years they win, it's still only one that comes out.

& katniss notes that in district twelve, one of the few freedoms they have is to choose who they marry, but even that is... sort of murky because of how divided the district is between the seam and the merchants, with ms. everdeen giving up whatever comforts she had growing up in town to marry katniss' father because she loved him. and it seems pretty heavily implied to me that she was estranged from her family because of this, because, as far as i'm aware, we get no real mention of them. they have no other support system after katniss' father dies. so yes, anyone in twelve can choose who they marry, but we see pretty clearly that marrying across the class divide can often mean one risking their home, their family, their livelihood for a life spent in impoverishment. and that doesn't mean it wasn't a choice on ms. everdeen's part - it clearly was, and it was the radical choice to make. it just makes me wonder how many people in twelve could, theoretically, have chosen to marry someone they loved, but were not either able or willing to risk being placed in such a position.

& even more relevant to catching fire, katniss is noting this elusive freedom they have because it's one she sees being taken away from her right before her eyes. yes, katniss and peeta can "choose" to get married, and yes, it's even her idea, but it's obviously not something being done out of desire. they are desperately looking for any way to appease snow, and katniss figures it's going to happen anyway, so they might as well do it when they can make it work in their favor. what i also find notable about this scene is that when peeta agrees and then holes up in his room, clearly upset, katniss asks haymitch why he was so upset when she thought it was what he wanted. and haymitch responds that it's because he wanted it to be real. and i think that's true but sometimes gets boiled down to a surface-level reading. and to be clear, i think haymitch himself knows it's not as simple as that might make it sound! it's not just about being upset or having his feelings hurt thinking that katniss doesn't feel the same way as him and is suggesting this. he knows why she does! he gets it! it is about the fact that he is being backed into this corner, too. this is not a choice he is making for himself either, not really, same as katniss! they both agree to it under the duress of trying to figure out how to protect themselves and their loved ones. this is not a choice he WOULD make for himself, knowing (or at least believing) that katniss doesn't love him in that way, and certainly not for the reason that they're doing it. not if they and their loved ones and the people starting to rebel in the districts weren't in active, palpable danger. it twists a real desire, a genuine love, something about himself he values, and turns it into something the capitol can control and strip away and then gloss over with a shiny veneer of false choice and saying, look, you got exactly what you wanted.

and this is also very important when it comes to finnick and johanna's stories because as we know, finnick is literally sex-trafficked in the capitol under the threat of having his loved ones harmed, and it's heavily implied that johanna endured the same threat and has had all her loved ones killed for refusing. finnick, in contrast, is made to - whether by pressure from the capitol or as a coping mechanism (i suspect a mix of both) - not only endure this sexual exploitation but perform a persona that he enjoys it, that he's The Sex Symbol of Panem, that it is a Real choice he is making and not outright coercion, that he is desiring of and therefore somehow complicit in the abuses committed against him (obviously not true.) and truly, i cannot even for one moment fathom blaming either of them for the way they react to these deeply horrifying circumstances because neither of them have any actual good choices!!! two "options" are served to them, both despicable in their own rights, and they just have to do whatever they feel they can live with.

idk what the point of this is it's just something i find so uniquely sick about snow and the other powerful capitol higher-ups, because it is, of course, a form of control in its own right - after all, while cruel and horrifying, giving a public pretense of choice while making it clear privately how limited any of their options really are is, in fact, a very effective tool in the system of control he's built.

#sex trafficking // #ask to tag // #the hunger games #thg meta #legitemely don't know if this makes any sense but i'm having feelings about it

[youngsamanda]

currently re-reading the hunger games trilogy and am on catching fire, these are my thoughts:

the rebellion would not exist without rue who is the INITIAL mockingjay it’s mockingjays being relevant to rue and the agriculture in work with that little tune signifying safety in the fields that then translates to katniss

the movies feel a little ... white savior-y with the obvious change of katniss being played by a grown white woman in the films like this is a sixteen yr old who ... realistically? is probably indigenous like it grinds my gears that she is white in the movies bc there is this whole point of the mother being a white woman who was shit on for marrying a coal miner who definitely WAS NOT A WHITE DUDE 

the racism and class differences between not only the capitol vs the districts but the districts themselves w the seam mostly being populated by people who are not described to be the fair skin blonde haired blue eyed people that are katniss’ mother and peeta’s family

the importance of knowing that just bc peeta’s family is better off in the stature of like having food they still are neglected as poor people in district 12 

madge should’ve been in the movie like what the fuck was that about it’s such a small role but so important to symbolize solidarity between the people in twelve which again!!! so important bc the capitol is always trying to turn them all against each other which is why the districts who are not rich and so easily brainwashed (in an effect of ignorance and also perhaps plato’s cave type bullshit bc they don’t actually see what’s going on in other districts) whereas in twelve we do see tht solidarity between them!!! is it great absolutely not but like gale even brings up this point

gale represents fighting/rebellion/war whereas peeta represents peace etc etc this is important in the aspect of the love triangle but also why the FUCK did they make gale just miserable in the movies he’s basically like completely downgraded as a character who wants to leave his horrible position but won’t try and make a run bc of his family into this friendzoned annoying ass dude 

i’m not even a gale defender im here for gale slander but whyyy

peeta was so funny and snippy in the books like you can’t tell me josh hutcherson wouldn’t have ate that shit up! 

peeta represents peace in the same way prim does and that’s where the dandelion symbolism comes in bc both primrose and dandelions are delicate flowers and peeta is soft and gentle and the exact type thing the capitol would want to break it does make me upset

peeta not loosing his leg in the movies is so stupid???? like???? it’s very important to the plot and so is katniss’ hearing getting fucked up and then fixed too well by the capitol it’s why she knows where the forcefield is in the catching fire arena and can hear the hum of the electric fence being on bc she was defeaned in one ear and the capitol tried to fix it like omg this makes me sooooo heated!!! not only is it disability rep but it also in peeta’s case shows how the glamorous capitol cannot fix everything and its the start of the victors still visibly being damaged from the games even when they scrape them all clean and pretty for the cameras

the absolute nuance of knowing that the careers are antagonistic but not villains they are children who are brainwashed into thinking this is their life purpose i will say cato’s speech was a nice addition to the movie but it really does drive me nuts how easily glossed over them being children is like yes!!! cato is very big and hulking and scary but he literally doesn’t know another purpose in life

cato holding clove as she died!!! again!!!! THEY ARE CHILDREN!!!!! NOT THE ENEMY #1 HERE!!!

the one scene with katniss and thresh where he establishes respect for her/her taking care of rue in her death yeah i cried what about it 

there’s so much more but yeah i only finished book one and am at the beginning of catching fire right now and it’s been a decade since i’ve read these and i have so many thoughts 

#kisses to finnick odair i love u #this is my ramble of the day

[gothprentiss]

have severely cooled, really to the point of annoyance, on that post that’s like “you can see the seams and cogs in bad media more than good media and that’s why i love watching it!” first of all, skill issue, get your fun up; second of all, skill issue, good media has exactly as penetrable a facade as the bad stuff. (this unless you’re defining “good” as “works for me” and “bad” as “doesn’t work for me”, which i think is facile but certainly no more arbitrary than my own taste and judgment so hats off to ya.)

i feel like you see this a lot: “sound editing is really only noticeable when it’s bad” or things of this sort. largely it’s about technical or formal stuff, which we normie non-industry guys have no real reason to understand. this is of course observably whack, and i think borne of a certain style of interacting with film + tv (misplaced valorization of a sort of reality effect) as well as not really thinking about most genres, or works in general, as being crafted. like, seeing the wheels fall off is not your first sign that the car is carefully engineered to move! i cannot stop thinking about this. if you start with the premise that a movie is a thing that has been put together from the ground up, the idea that you can best see how it works if it is unsuccessful is super wild.

like, on one hand, it is recognizably how we work: it makes me think of the bill brown thing theory line about how we only notice the thingness of an object when it stops working for us— like how a window you can no longer properly gaze through (cloudy or something. cracked. someone’s painted over it or taped up a flyer for an uncompensated and sketchy psychological study) is more notable as an object when it’s lost its function. so presumably a bad movie becomes an object of scrutiny when it isn��t immersive and transportive.

on the other hand, though, you cannot tell me you haven’t been part of the way through a movie and cottoned onto something it was doing, and then never lost that awareness, even as the movie is entirely successful. i remember having cronenberg’s crash on and being agog at the sound design— like it sounds horrifying, even as it is remarkably attuned to quiet, soft sounds, and makes hushed moments feel like collisions. or the other day i saw crouching tiger, hidden dragon, which similarly has really turned up the silence, though without a resulting violence. instead you get these really beautiful moments, like when the twanging reverberation of the blade blends into the rising soundtrack.

the point being that as far as i am willing to look, these are way more interesting, notable, and real moments of pulling the curtain back than, say, a scene being done with poorly-synced ADR because you couldn’t hear the actors or something like that. and analogize that to all features of media which can be successful or unsuccessful. there is some kind of desire to praise things as seamless, natural, real, never arresting or disjointed or obvious in their artifice; or so immersive that they permit no critical thought. maybe there is also the desire to recuperate Bad Media as formally interesting in its failures, which is, i guess, fair, but speaks to a sort of embarrassment at the notion of failure which i think sucks on a different level. really i think so long as you have special rules for how good and bad media work and can be perceived to work, and these rules are very binaristic and rely on a weird opposition or polarity between Good Thing and Bad Thing, you are depriving yourself of a) some amount of dynamism or novelty in your ostensibly analytical viewing experience, and b) fun!!

#mediaposting #longposting #SOZ this has just been NAGGING AT ME

[fuh-saw-t]

writing advice blog.....?

thoughts, tips on show don't tell?

Ayy first ask-

You sound apprehensive. Me too.

So,

'Show, don't tell.'

It's a common piece of advice when creating any form of narrative but, how and when to apply it entirely depends on context.

To begin, it's good to understand what 'show, don't tell' means. Overall, it's advising to allude to the reader as to what's happening, and to give hints and a general picture without outright stating what's happening.

A simple example would be:

'Sam was angry.'

Turning to:

'Sam scowled and gritted his teeth.'

Although not outright stating that Sam was angry, the reader can interpret that he is, indeed, angry.

Why should you use 'show, don't tell?'

This advice works in multiple circumstances and can really upgrade your writing and narrative. It usually gives more elaborate detail on things, aids in foreshadowing, and allows the reader to both involve themselves more into the story as well as develop a more detailed, descriptive vision of what you are presenting.

Let's walk through how to do this, with a more elaborate example.

'He saw a group of people dancing. They looked starved and poor. Moricheal felt depressed at the sight.'

We have a lot of framework to build on, here. To effectively apply 'show, don't tell' to this at a more detailed level, we have to think about context.

1: Where is this group?

2: What are their relation to the narrator/character of focus, or why do they feel that way about them?

3: What are the group doing other than dancing/what are the details of the scene?

4: Where are they?

5: How does the character know the more intricate details described (that they are starving and poor)?

Here is the same example after having 'show, don't tell' applied on all five of these levels:

'Moricheal turned the corner on the street, the shopfronts bustling with people and the air thick with heat and dust. By an alley, he heard music. There was a woman, dressed in a red and dirty-white dress which appeared to be falling apart at the seams, shaking her hips, her arms in the air as she moved to the rhythm of the chants. Moricheal stopped to observe the sight. Their thin, bruised hands beat the drums, and smiles were plastered on their fleshless, sunken-in faces. Despite the unfiltered joy emitted from the group, it was the very feeling that made Moricheal turn his head. No amount of song would hide the ribs that poked out harshly from the woman's torso.'

Though it's probably not the best example of this application, I hope it can give you some framework as to what I mean by the benefits of abiding by this advice. It prompts you to elaborate more, aids in building character, setting and general feel (based on application) and gives the reader a much more insightful view into the world or scene you are presenting them with.

However, there are some cases where 'show, don't tell' might be best to avoid. For example, when it is an important or specific detail that the readers MUST know for the sake of the narrative, or to give effect (blunt delivery can help a lot with many scenes and situations in writing, such as dramatic moments or times when a character realises or is told something suddenly).

How you apply this advice and when you choose to use it is entirely between you and your narrative. Do what you think sounds the best, and remember that it's always good to get someone to read through your stuff to pick out things that you may not have realised weren't as obvious as they were intended to be.

Also, sorry if this isn't too helpful or if it's a bit choppy. I'm still learning myself, and nobody's perfect. But hey, first ask. Whoopie!

#creative writing #writing advice #writing #beginner writer #writeblr #bookblr #language #fiction #fiction writing #fsasks

[spaceguylewis]

🥺🛒💞🤩 for the fanfic writer emoji asks!!

Hi Blondie!! Thank u so much for the ask, also sorry that this is late; I've had A Few Days lmao :,)

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

definitely when one character is on the verge of unravelling at the seams and another character reaches out to them physically to get their attention before asking, very gentle yet unflinching, what they can do to help. What makes this even better is if the character on the verge of unravelling is doing it very subtly but the supportive character clocks it anyways.

🛒What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

oh, i gotta have at least some water somewhere in the thought process of fic construction. like, it takes place by a body of water, a character is getting into/out of a body of water, someone's soaking wet, it's raining — you get the point :P

💞 Who’s your comfort character?

... this one's pretty obvious, but Sun-King Avad Horizon — i just. love everything about him; his character design, his place as an agent of change and progress in a broken culture, how he wishes he was anyone else in the world besides who he is but shoulders the burden of his birthright because if he doesn't do it, no one else will.

also i love his big wet eyes and soft little smile.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

also Avad Horizon! but for variety's sake, i also really enjoyed writing Drakka Horizon for a couple fics; quintessential partyboy energy with the best intentions, even if his hotheaded and impulsive nature gets in the way of him thinking straight a lot of the time.

Thanks again for the ask Blondie! 💖💖💖

#radio spaceman #i love doing these even though my brain is mush and doesn't let me answer asks most of the time lmao #... fuk i need to write more.

[copper-dust]

1 & 6? ❤️

1. what's the fic youre most proud of?

Hmm... I'm not sure. I'm usually most proud of fics that I've finished, for obvious reasons. I would have to say that the finished story I'm most proud of is The Seam Between, because it seems to have touched a lot of people and emotionally affected them. I wasn't sure if my idea there would make sense to other people or if the subtleties would translate, but the readers really picked up on the themes I wanted them to and I appreciated all the lovely comments.

The fic I'm most proud of in general is Merry Men, my historical fiction/Vietnam war AU, which is still a WIP. I know I haven't updated in a while, but life gets in the way. :) This fic is kind of a monster and has taken an excruciating amount of research, which is still ongoing—but I'm really proud of myself for attempting something so ambitious, and I like the chapters I've written so far. I've really pushed myself on this fic to expand and grow as a writer.

6. what's the hardest part of the writing process for you?

In general, it's building outward from the emotional core/climax of a scene. The general purpose of the scene is where the idea comes from, but then I have to work towards it and ultimately conclude the scene. It's about understanding how much context is enough and how much is getting to be padding—and keeping the momentum going without making transitions feel too abrupt.

The other difficult thing is just getting the time and energy to write. I've just started a new job and things are pretty chaotic, plus I have like 200+ students and a lot of coordinating to do with other teachers. So you may not see me updating that much, but I do try to do a little bit of creative work every day.

-in response to the deep fic writer ask

#writing #fanfic #fan fiction #writing ask #meme #fic: the seam between #fic: merry men

[bookwyrminspiration]

also revisiting. GALEN AND QOWN???? was NOT expecting that turn but bro look at them (looks at them with the utmost tenderness) how are they so sweet. how does that even happen. i am so happy for them *blasting them with the joy of a thousand suns* i just like. OUGH. and getting to see GALEN first of all i really did forget about thaena for a hot minute in the first half of the memory of souls but getting to see him this ENTIRE BOOK was a fucking TREAT and to see him grown, or just free, and happy, and in a lavender marriage (but also just like the platonic marriage, the sheer care between him and sheloran is so beautiful) and just thriving in what he wants and what his wife wants and being able to actually love someone romantically so hard that it makes him vulnerable. it was SO gorgeous SUCH a solid character and then QOWN CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! discovering that he is fucking!!!! worthy of love and care and someone who will remind him to eat and care enough to make sure that he Can eat and people who respect his fucking boundaries!!!! that scene when caless (i can't remember her mortal name haha. the high lady d'talus) was like you should have told me to go fuck myself for calling you ugly and changing everything about you. who did this to you that you don't even bother to give a shit? ohhhh man. when i tell you the sheloran scene after vol karoth pulled galen out of the lighthouse made me cry i am so so serious i was sobbing right along with qown. i think all of the other things about this book were beautiful but also a thing i could have expected to happen whereas the qown and galen arc absolutely threw me for a loop emotion wise as in: despite starting this out realizing quickly it was going to be a therapy session for the characters i was not expecting there to be something about self love and acceptance in here that was just. so genuinely soft. obviously there is hurt and fear and so much pain but the two of them are so gentle with each other, yk??? also i (like janel) assumed qown was old and going to be a side character forever! glad to know this was not the case ESPECIALLY when it brought us this

Neither was I! Like you, i thought that when we left Galen in book 1 that we'd never see him again, but lo and behold he's actually got quite the role to play! Was bursting at the seams trying not to say anything when you mentioned being sad we'd probably never see him again.

We knew from book 1 Galen was queer, but was not expecting religious man who's life has fallen apart has internalized homophobia and faces it to chase his happiness. I made a post when reading this book that Qown desperately needed a hug and I stand by that statement. He is such a wet rag of a man for a hot minute there. He really is put through the works emotionally. And it's both adorable and heartbreaking how oblivious he was to all of Galen's flirting and attempts to win his heart.

And Galen and Sheloran! When she was first introduced I thought she'd be an unimportant mentioned-once character (likely because of what Senera noted, which was that Thurvishar edited her role in his first volume to protect her), so I was quite surprised to see her here. But I adore her so. Her passion, her charm, her positivity, her drive. Her and Galen's friendship is so touching, I'm so glad they found each other. The only two good royals in the world <3

And that Caless scene...man. A little obvious in it's "hey look at what this implies about Qown and his self-worth" but I appreciate it because I very well might have overlooked that the first time otherwise. He was just so lost and so confused and so used. His entire life was a lie and all he wanted was to make it better, and Relos Var promised a way. He wanted so badly for that to be real

Qown and Galen are so soft and tender with each other, they've both been so hurt for who they are but despite that they've found each other and been brave enough to risk it. Though really it was a phenomenally bad time to risk it making out in the mind of a quasi-dead god while under attack.

Another thing it highlights for me is how diverse the characters personalities are? Because Qown's mental voice and perception is so different from how everyone else functions--you'd never imagine janel thinking anything like this, for example. So as heartbreaking as it is to see what he thinks, at the same time I'm nodding in appreciation at the variation in character voices

#a chorus of dragons #the house of always #quil's queries #soryasongsaa #i'm making progress I think I only have like five of your asks left or something! #but anyway. was NOT expecting the galen qown thing but am so grateful for it #though I do think there were some moments that were a little hasty #like qown ducking into galen's shoulder at the end #i don't know that he'd be that comfortable physically so soon #but it is cute otherwise

[botboots]

promise [optimus x reader]

was thinking about this scene and honestly just really wanted some comfort stuff (even though this is mostly based around angst whoops) - based in DOTM before the invasion of chicago and the bots "leave"

warnings: hurt/comfort, dotm spoilers word count: 883 (GN reader) continued under the cut

-----------------

“Make it short. We’re loading up.”

Bumblebee nods, giving a silent ‘thank you’ to the Prime before heading towards his charge to say his goodbyes. Optimus walks back towards the ship, and there you stand - waiting for him under the platform. His spark suddenly feels much heavier in his chassis at the sight of you, the feeling of defeat within you is obvious. He kneels to lower his servo to the ground, and you solemnly climb into it. The leader carries you around the back of the ship, hidden from the view of the others.

Once he sits down, he guides his servo so that you’re able to climb onto his shoulder plating. You settle near his helm, leaning your own head against the warm metal as your mind spins, listening to the beat of his spark as he listened to your breath. Both of you were content to sit in eachothers company in silence, latching onto the last few minutes you had and milking it dry to the bone. Yes, you were content – but neither of you were anywhere near satisfied.

“It’s not fair.” He can sense the pain in your whisper of a voice, already strained as you struggle to keep your composure - a balancing act on a taut and frayed wire, ready to snap and drop you at any moment. The comfort that only Optimus can give washes over you, desperation melded into his reassurance.

“Yes, I know, but we have no control over it.” He speaks quietly, the low rumble of his voice keeping you in the moment. Keeping you grounded with him. “I will always be with you no matter the circumstance – you know that, right?” Your throat tightens at that. All you give is a broken hum of agreement, pressing yourself further into the crevice between his shoulder plates and neck cabling, as if everything would just stop if you only hid deep enough.

He feels you trembling, hears your sniffles and stuttered breathing. He washes his E.M. field over you once more, wrapping you in its heavy blanket of warmth, love, and reassurance. He can’t rely on his own words right now. It would likely only make things harder.

When someone calls for Optimus, the both of you tense. He sighs. You know it's time. He brings his servo up to his shoulder. You stare at it, stomach churning into knots as you tentatively step onto it, as if it was your first time ever interacting with him. His servo shifts, and you turn to look at his face, drinking in every detail you can - committing every paint chip, scratch, and seam to memory. You’re already choking up again at the slightest hint of a thought that you wouldn’t see him again. With shaky hands, you place them on either side of his helm – or at least try to – and he watches, bright blue optics holding something back, but you know not to ask.

“I love you.” You speak. He brings his other servo up to place a digit, with the utmost gentleness and care of any being in the universe, next to your head. Pressing one of your hands against it, you repress the urge to beg him once more to stay – to say that you could make them reconsider, to make them realize how wrong this was and how they were handing Earth over without a fuss, leaving them all to the mercy of the Decepticons. But you had already tried, and he refused to make matters with your governments worse by going directly against their wishes after they had provided the Autobots with a home for so long. A home which was about to be destroyed by its species’ own stupidity.

He nudges you, pulling you from your own mind. The fear in your eyes is clear as day to your partner, and it makes him feel all the more guilty. Though he still couldn’t tell you. No matter how much it hurt the both of you, it was for your and the rest of your planets’ sake.

“Everything will be alright, my spark.” He soothes. It at least settles your nerves; his voice having always acting as a sort of beacon for you when everything was too overwhelming.

“Optimus.” Ratchet’s voice has his comms crackle to life, “We are leaving in one hour, we need you up here.”

You watch as he returns the call, letting him know that he would join them in a moment. Once he closes the line, all he needs to do is look back at you and you’re tearing up. For his sake – and your own – you swallow it down, forcing you to compose yourself. This was it, and he didn’t need you sobbing like a child in his servos as his last memory of you before he left Earth.

“I’ll miss you.” You say, a gentle smile working its way onto your face as you rub a stray tear from your cheek, “Well, more than miss you, but you know I’m shitty with words.” He returns the smile, lifting you closer to nudge his helm against your head. The gesture made you melt, bumping your forehead against his with a soft laugh.

“We will see eachother again.” He promises.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Prime.”

#can you tell i really like optimus yet #also im like 99% sure someone else has written about this #whoops #transformers #transformers bayverse #transformers x reader #transformers optimus x reader #transformers bayverse x reader #tf x reader #tf optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #bayverse optimus prime x reader #bayverse optimus x reader #transformers x reader angst #transformers x reader comfort #optimus x reader

[tonesplash]

its thanksgiving get nasty (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

summary: you get bored at thanksgiving dinner. unfortunately for edward you wore sandals

warnings: smut,brief footjob, thanksgiving dinner, edward kind of chokes on corn, reader doesn’t like their family, mild injury, fingering, innappropriate use of vampire speed, technically exhibitionism and public sex?? bad dirty talk, and cousin-shaming, reader is afab and might be described as female im not sure

a/n: i wrote this in 24 hours so any sloppiness is not my fault

masterlist

(c/n)= cousins name

When you told him thanksgiving with your family would be boring, you’d meant it’d be for him, looking forward to his reaction to being on the receiving end of your bloodlines ridiculousness while you’d get dinner and a show. But, as it turns out, your family just so happens to get along with Edward much better than they do with you.

The seating situation is a little unconventional, since because your boyfriend-snatching cousin stole the open seat next to Edward before you even made it back from the bathroom, leaving your only viable option directly opposite of him. On the bright side, you had the option of kicking his leg when he’d said something to embarrass you.

 Bless his soul, he’d done his best to bring you into the conversation but apparently, anything you had to say about your relationship had been relayed verbatim to the family group chat you weren't even in by your mother. So, after the third time you’re talked over by the aforementioned horny cousin or some other nosy relative on you’re bored out of your mind.

Everyone had gotten over your piss poor table manners years ago, or were just completely ignoring you at this point because there were no protests when they’d brought the turkey out and you’d stayed slumped low in your seat like a child in church.

Twitter had stopped refreshing ten minutes ago, and when you finally resigned yourself to tuning back into the conversation, your mother was showing Edward your baby pictures again. Idly swinging one bare foot under the table, your bare toe grazes the drape of his dress slacks under the table when you get an idea.

 You’d lost a sandal earlier after Edward had pinned it under his shoe in a vain attempt to stop your pinching and dirtying of his slacks with your filthy soles. You scoot a little further forward in your seat to reach out and press your arch flat against his shin.

Edward doesn’t visibly react, just shifts his leg away, leaving yours to slip to the floor until you reach up again to plant your heel on the seat of the chair. The conversation lulls for a moment as everyone says grace, and he uses the opportunity to grab your ankle and send you a warning glare over the top of your phone.

You meet his gaze and boorishly eat a spoon of mashed potatoes, shrugging as if he couldn’t read in your mind exactly what you were about to do. 

Your cousin asks about his mom car again and when you roll your eyes Edward flicks the outside of your fibula, sure to bruise, and you crinkle your nose, pinching his marble thigh between your toes as best you can through the material.

“Well my father thought it was necessary for my siblings and I to-” 

While he talks, he's soothing the spot he flicked, playing in the stubble leftover from your shoddy shave job this morning, and the absent affection gives you the final motivation to further push your luck. You tease the seam of his left leg with the very tips of your toes, coaxing the unnatural heat of the venom to build in the crotch of his pants, the coolness of the rest of him making it seem even hotter in comparison.

He inhales on a forkful of corn, almost taking it down the wrong pipe, and you fight a smile around the bowl of the spoon as he flawlessly recovers and finishes the thought. You idly wonder if you could be that smooth someday. For now, you press further, pressing a toe against the seam over his cock, stroking up and down as slowly and consistently as you can while stretched under a table because who would’ve thought that footjobs are kind of an athletic feat. 

Edward taps insistently at your leg, harder than he normally would, and you have to hold back a laugh at the idea of him splitting the table because he can’t take a little footsie action. You press forward again, arch encompassing his hardness through the fabric, toes curling against his pubic bone when-

“Ho-oly shit!” Searing pain shoots up from your ankle, and you double over, using everything in you not to shout, Edwards dawning mortification going unnoticed as everyone at the table turns to you at your unexpected outburst.  

“(Y/n)?” Your mother doesn’t seem that happy to have dinner interrupted, and you clutch your stomach as a quick cover.

“Uh, my bad.” You snicker nervously at the sudden attention, bravado gone. Your face feels red-hot. “I actually need to use the bathroom, I think,” you lick your lips and slide out of your chair. “Lady problems.”

The table erupts in a cacophony of gags and groans as the notion of a menstrual cycle is brought up in casual conversation, and it gives you the perfect cover to retreat to the upstairs bathroom. It takes you a minute to make it up the stairs without causing a scene, and just as soon as you close and lock the door behind you and settle down to weep in peace, he’s there, jiggling the doorknob like it’s a drug bust.

“Let me in.”

You’re apparently taking too long because as soon as your injured foot touches the floor, he forces the lock and slips in, shutting the door a little too fast to pass as human. 

“Jesus! Edward, are you trying to lose our deposit?” You lean around him to check for a handprint but he doesn’t respond, wordlessly setting you up on the counter, kneeling to examine your injured ankle, cool fingers soothing to the sore skin. You sit in silence, idly swinging your other leg to distract yourself.

“How'd you make it out?” You can't imagine they’d let the guest of honor go so easily.

“You forgot your bag, I told them I’d just bringing it up to you.” He places your bag next to you as evidence. “Maybe you should start carrying menstrual products for when you actually need them.”

Of course, he breaks your foot and wants to lecture you on responsible uterus care. Edward sighs, taking your foot with the gentlest touch and whispering a kiss into the skin. “It’s only a sprain, but I’m still sorry.” 

“S’Okay.” Your face burns, not expecting his guilt. “Serves me right, huh?” You titter, poking his side with your uninjured foot. He swipes it up before you can start again, halfheartedly laughing with you. 

“Let me wrap it before you get any more ideas.” You hand him the compression wrap from the medicine cabinet, and he gets to work. The wince you give at the pressure is more reflex than anything, but the anxious expression on his face tells you he wasn't going to let this go easily. 

“Y’know…” You poke at him again. The playful contempt in his golden eyes gives you the go-ahead to make your case. “If you’re really feeling torn up about it, seeing you wow my family like that got me a little riled up.”

“Really.” Edward kisses the secured wrapping and releases you, standing to frame you against the counter.

“I’m serious, impressing them isn’t easy, (C/n) is probably shaving in the guest room to steal you from me right now, just thinking about it has got me a little hot under the collar.” You run your hands over his back and through his hair, nuzzling into the crook of his throat.

“You’re laying it on pretty thick, don’t you think?” His hands smooth over your exposed thighs sending a shiver up your spine. You think you've got him, but he's such a tease sometimes you can never really be sure.

“Depends. Is it working?” You still, bracing for some line about ‘responsibility’ and ‘your family waiting for you.’

But then his hands are under your skirt, hooking into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, leaving them to free-fall to your feet. You clutch his auburn hair in your fingers at the shock of open-air against your cunt.

“Do you think I could let you go back to that table smelling like this?” His sweet breath washes against your ear as he huffs a soft laugh. “I’d rather not go downstairs and pretend to care about football when I know you’re here, hot and ready for me.”

You can’t resist him any longer, pulling him close and kissing him with the desperation of a woman who needs to be back downstairs before dessert. His thumb teases over your cunt at first, swirling over your swelling clit and teasing your hole before he finds a focus, using the thumb of his free hand to hold your hood back as his slicked fingers grind the bud into a frenzy while he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

It’s all you can do to hold your breath while he touches you, cool fingers building a knot in your belly, smooth and steady as they batter you up into a frenzy. He adjusts his hand, his ring finger pressing into you and bringing a low ache from rushed preparation, but you welcome it, thighs shaking with the effort to stay open for him as your mouth falls open in a shaky gasp. Edward breaks the kiss to let you breathe , seemingly unbothered until- 

“(C/n) is coming.” 

“Wha-” A particularly deep stroke has you biting your lip as you struggle to concentrate. “What the fuck does she want?”

“She’s going to ask you where I am.” His expression doesn’t match his words, still completely concentrated on ruining you despite the obvious issue.

“And what am I supposed to tell her?!” You hiss back right as she reaches the door. His mouth closes over your pulse point and you don't think you've clenched that hard before in your life.

“Hey (Y/n)? Have you seen Edward?” Her voice is enough of a mood killer that you have to shove your face into his throat to ground yourself in the moment. He adds a second finger, gaining speed, and you pray and hope to any god listening to this that she can't hear the squelches through the door.

“N-no.” You rack your mind for an excuse. His scent is making it harder to concentrate. “I think he went out for a smoke?” Nice one.

“Really? I didn't smell anything on him...” If all your blood flow hadn't been centralized below the waist at this point you'd’ve asked how the hell she knows what he smells like. He's fully abandoned your clit now, leaving it to pulse in the open air while three of his fingers push and pull at your pelvic floor.

“That's cause he unh-” You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the moan before it can be recognized for what it is.“-he vapes!” Edward pulls back from your throat to look at you incredulously, but it's a little hard to be ashamed when he's nearly wrist deep inside you.

“Oh… Well, let him know if you see him that they’re playing charades and I need a partner. You know how it is.”

You forget to reply, too enthralled watching him spit onto his unoccupied fingers and mash the coolness against your clit, causing you to nearly spasm off the counter, losing the sensation as he silently laughs at having to hold you steady. She seemed to have taken your silence as an admission, as you can hear the door at the stoop of the stairs swinging shut after her. Thank God.

“Rub your spot, Sweet, come on, we have to be quick.” He kisses your temple and laughs a bit maniacally at the little whimper that escapes when you bring a hand down to your clit. “Surprisingly, she’s having trouble picturing me in a vape shop.”

You whine around a bitten lip, too far gone to listen to his ribbing. You’re building up to overstimulation with the sloppy way you’re rubbing yourself, and he must feel it too, because in the next second, his fingers are vibrating.

“Come on, (Y/n), don't you want to finish up here and mop the floor with them?” You hadn’t even realized how hazy your vision had gotten until he grabs your chin and levels your lidded eyes with his and says your name again. You nod sluggishly for him, not hearing a word. He laughs again, smiles wide. His teeth are pretty. 

“If you cum right now;” The buzzing grows stronger, your free arm spasming under you as you support yourself. “I’ll rub you raw after on the ride home. You just need to come right now and win charades with me.” 

The buzzing inside grows too strong, and your vision goes white, pulsing in long pulls around his fingers as hot waves of sensation spread from your head to your toes.

Edward kisses you, soft and slow, swallowing any whimpers tempted to escape as you come down, abandoning the counter to clutch his sleeve as the twitching reduces to a tremor.

“Oh my god.“ You laugh, planting your face into his collar as you catch your breath. “I can't believe you used charades to make me come, I'm never gonna forgive you.” 

“I heard the top prize is a ten dollar gift card to…” He squints and checks again. “The Google Play Store.”

“Ew, what could you even do with tha-”

“(Y/N) come help with plates!” Your mother shouts up the stairwell, totally fucking up any release you just had.

“I guess I should run down to the corner store;” Edward smiles, helping you to stand on wobbly legs and smoothing your skirt down. “Don't want to blow your cover.” 

“(Y/N)! Plates!”

“Oh my god;” Your eyes may never return from the back of your skull. “Meet you downstairs?”

He kisses you sweetly one last time, pulling you close and wiping the sheen of sweat off of your face.

“Downstairs.”

With that, he heaves himself out of the narrow sill, and you busy yourself cleaning up as fast as you can.

You just catch him hopping off the roof, and coming around to the front yard. He'll hear you no matter the volume, but you still shout the warning;

“Stay away from my cousin!” 

#edward cullen x reader #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen #Twilight FanFic #twilight smut #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #twilight x you #the twilight saga #reader insert smut #reader insert fluff #reader #thanksgiving #dinner with parents

[breakyeol]

touch it (sensual oils)

one shot

┗ pairing : baekhyun x reader

words: 4k

warnings: smut, sensual massage, byun-booty, hand job, light overstimulation 

a/n; because baekhyun deserves it

Baekhyun had a bad day.

That much was glaringly obvious from the very moment he stepped through the door, looking about ready to crawl beneath your bedsheets and never come out. He collapsed into your arms with a pathetic whine the moment you rose from where you were situated on the couch, the full weight of his body thrown against your chest. You grunted at the unexpected impact, quickly wrapping your arms around his slim waist when you felt his knees beginning to give out.

“Baek!” You yelped, struggling feebly to support the both of you. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m too tired to stand,” he cried out dramatically, voice muffled against your shoulder, “my body feels like it’s turning into mush.”

You clicked your tongue at his familiar dramatics, a fond smile flitting across your lips in spite of yourself. “Oh my poor baby~” you cooed playfully, petting the top of his head, “they worked you into the ground?”

A heavy pout tugged at the corners of his lips, big droopy eyes swinging up to meet yours as he bobbed his head. “I’m already sore. I’m not gonna be able to move tomorrow.” He complained noisily, hands curling into tight fists around the material of your sweatshirt.

This close, you could easily make out the lingering scent of sweat clinging to his skin, and you didn’t doubt for a second he worked until he was drenched in it. There was a flash, an image that passed before your eyes, of Baekhyun, sweat rolling down the smooth slope of his chin, dripping from the fringes of his bangs, glistening enticingly above his brow, his mouth pink and open, gasping. It vanished just as quickly as it had come, and your attention was drawn back to the whining mess of a man squirming against your chest.

“Go shower,” you suggested, not trusting your voice above a careful whisper, “then come to bed, okay?”

“I don’t want to. Just hold me.”

You snickered, combing your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck, feeling the way his body melted into the tender caress. “I will gladly hold you for the rest of the night… after you take a shower.”

He only offered an unintelligible grunt in response, showing no signs of detaching himself from your body, his hold around you tightening in a display of stubborn resistance. There was little doubt in your mind that he’d keep this up for as long as your patience allowed – which, given how soft you were for the man, was a fairly long time –, but you knew you’d both be better off once he felt clean and refreshed, cleansed of the day’s many hardships.

“You’ll feel a lot better afterwards.”

A groan this time.

“I’ll make you feel a lot better afterwards.”

At that reparation, his head snapped up, eyes wide and, despite the exhaustion, glinting with a hint of excitement. His spine straightened, grip around you loosening somewhat as strength seemed to return to his muscles. “Really?” He whispered, pink tongue slipping out from between petal lips. So easy. You could’ve scoffed, but thought better of yourself, settling for a suggestive cock of your head that could be interpreted in a number of ways.

“Go shower,” you hummed, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and guiding his face down towards yours, “then… we’ll see.”

He let out a huff of breath, eyes going hooded as they flickered down to trace the smug curve of lips. “You’re mean.”

You laughed lightly, planting a kiss that was far too short for Baekhyun’s liking to his pouted mouth before skillfully untangling yourself from his arms. “We’ll see just how mean I can be once you come to bed.” You called teasingly over your shoulder, grinning in wild amusement at the low curse that followed.

It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way into the bedroom that you heard the soft hiss of the shower. You waited until you heard the low groan that told you that your boyfriend had finally stepped beneath the hot spray to permeate through the separating wall before you jumped into action.

This wasn’t the first time Baekhyun had come home looking ready to collapse and you doubted it would be the last. There wasn’t much you could do about him having to go to work. No matter what you said or how many times you told him he should give himself a chance to rest and recover, he would always put his everything into his work, because that was just the kind of man he was. He was all passion and fire and unrelenting persistence even when he felt like he might die. It was a quality that sparked both admiration and fear inside of you.

There was a certain helplessness that came with being the person he came home to after a long day of work, body and mind teetering dangerously on the brink of exhaustion. There wasn’t much you could do to ease his stress, as he wasn’t the type to verbally unload or express his unease to its full extent. Sure, he was dramatic, but only in a playful sense. That was his way of downplaying and covering up his true feelings, to both you and himself.

But, there were still other ways you could help. And, with some brainstorming and a bit of research, you’d come up with the perfect plan to help ease some of Baekhyun’s tension. Though, you had to scramble a bit to set the scene, you knew it would be fully worth it to see the look on his face.

It was just as you’d lit the final candle, completing the final touches, that you heard the shower shut off. Perfect timing. You quickly situated yourself on the edge of the bed, the cool air caressing your scantily clad body, rousing goosebumps across your skin.

But, the chills tickling your spine were little more than a second thought as Baekhyun stepped into the room donning nothing more than a towel that hung dangerously low on his full hips. He paused just inside the doorway, his brows shooting upwards as he took in the state of your shared bedroom. Wide eyes danced over the flickering candles laid out strategically across the hardwood floor to encircle the bed, swept over the scattered rose petals, before finally landing on you.

You, wearing a deep crimson lingerie set, a sheer silk robe, and nothing more.

His bare chest, still glistening with water droplets, rose sharply as his breath hitched. A low curse tumbled from his lips, almost too faint to hear over the seductive instrumentals pulsing from the speakers.

A satisfied smirk broke across your face at his reaction, pleased with yourself for having successfully caught him off guard.

“Surprise,” you sang, voice low and silken.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his own amazement rooting him in place as he visually inhaled the sight of you. Your skin was hot beneath the intensity of his gaze, blazing as it trailed torturously slow up the length of your body, not daring to miss a single detail.

A faint buzz of nerves fizzled in your gut.

You’d never done anything like this before. Presented yourself in such a way to him, that is. All wrapped up in silk and lace of only the most sensual nature, bathed in smooth orange candlelight that tickled your ankles and crept up the smooth length of your lower legs. This was something new for the both of you, something unexplored. But it also wasn’t everything you had in store.

When he moved, it was with the utmost cautiousness, as if stepping too quickly or too harshly might disturb the beautiful illusion spread before him. But still, he moved, unable to resist the temptation.

Without speaking, his hands found your face, curving around the shape of your jaw and winding around the back of your neck. They were cold against your skin, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that rippled down your spine as he leaned over you. You let out a soft hum at his touch, head rolling back under his gentle coaxing.

Not a beat passed before his mouth found yours, eager and impatient. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, easily finding the smooth slope of his naked waist and tugging him closer. He moaned somewhere low in his throat, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of your lip. You allowed as much, indulging the hungry press of his mouth, the careful nips of his teeth — until he tried to lay you down.

Your palms met the swells of his chest, and he pulled away, breathless and confused. “What is it?” He asked hoarsely, licking over his swollen lips. You’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said he didn’t look irresistible in that moment, wet hair hanging messily over his brows, dark, hooded eyes, all haze and lust as they stared down at you heatedly, full cheeks blushing a feverish shade of red. But you had plans for tonight, plans you didn’t intend to discard for the sake of sexual pleasure.

“I’m not fucking you.”

He gasped, disbelief coloring his features. “What? Why not?”

“Because,” you grinned, settling your hands on his hips, “I’m going to give you a massage.”

“A massa— ah!” his words cut off abruptly with a high pitched yelp as you suddenly spun him around, all but throwing him down onto the petal covered mattress. He could only stare at you in shock as you crawled over his nearly naked body, mouth curved into a playful smile.

“A massage.” You confirmed, sounding rather proud. But, he still looked less than amused, so you elaborated. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks, and I know you’ve been stressed and your body is exhausted. A massage will help release some of that tension.”

“You know what else releases tension?” He asked, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You cocked a brow, feeling the light press of his fingertips as they feathered over your thighs, taking an obvious path upwards. Desire and mischief swirled in his eyes, voice low and thick as the words dripped slowly from his dangerous tongue, “Hot… passionate… s—”

You snatched his hands from your skin before they could reach their destination, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. “Shut up and roll over.”

He huffed, pouting up at you scornfully but obeyed nonetheless, rolling onto his stomach. “Do you even know how to give a massage?” He snipped as you settled yourself on the back of his towel clad thighs.

“I’ve done my research.” You offered lightly, sparing a moment to admire the lithe, sinewy build of his shoulders and back before you moved, reaching for the tall bottle you’d situated on the nightstand earlier. He followed your movements from the corner of his eye, curiosity breaking through the petulant facade.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit cruel?”

“Perhaps,” you teased, pouring the translucent golden liquid into your palm, “but you’ll enjoy this, I promise. Just… relax.”

A defeated sigh escaped his chest, his body deflating beneath you. “Fine. But, this better feel better than sex or I swear to god I will—” he jolted with a soft gasp as you suddenly pressed the heels of your oil lathered palms into the area just between his shoulder blades and pushed outwards, “sue.”

You smirked smugly to yourself at the breathlessness with which he completed his sentence, obviously not having expected the pressure to feel that amazing.

“Good?” You asked, voice tinged with arrogance.

“Uh-huh,” he admitted immediately, moaning throatily as you rolled your thumbs deeply against the base of his neck, “oh fuck that feels so good.”

You chuckled, skillfully working your fingers across the planes of his broad shoulders. He melted deeper into the mattress with every knot you deftly unwound, soft, relieved moans breaking from his open mouth. The smooth, lavender scented oil glistened captivatingly on his sun-kissed skin, the delicate aroma gently permeating through your bedroom. It was a lovely, soothing smell, subtle and unimposing. You spread it diligently across the smooth expanse of his upper back, before gradually beginning to work your way downwards.

His sounds of bliss lowered in pitch the lower your hands reached, dipping into silky tenor groans when your hands reached the delicate dip of his waist. But, as you moved to massage the area just above his hips, he suddenly jolted, spine arching, a strained curse rushing from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help the concern that sparked to life in your chest at his response. “Does it hurt?” You asked, easing up on the pressure but not removing your touch completely. Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded with a soft, hesitant hum, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “What happened?”

He made a strange noise in the back of his throat. “I just… twisted it weirdly during practice, I guess.” He offered weakly, shivering as you poured a small puddle of oil in the small of his back.

“Did you take a break?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Baek,” your tone turned scolding as you gently worked your fingers into the tight dip of his waist, “just because you can fight through the pain doesn’t mean that you should. You’re not doing your body any favors by pushing it this hard.”

“I know but I—“ he sighed heavily, pressing his face into the sheets, “I just… don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

Oh, your poor, sweet Baekhyun. Always trying to please everyone else even when it ends up hurting him.

Pausing in your movements, you leaned forwards, bracing your hands on his shoulders so that you could speak in his ear. “Nobody is disappointed in you, Baek. You work so hard everyday to be the best you can be, and it shows. Everyone knows that you put your everything into what you do. And everyone’s proud of you,” you pressed your lips against the curve of his throat, slowly working your way up to the curve of his jaw, “I’m proud of you.”

He glanced back at you through his eyelashes. “Really?”

The question is so soft, so uncertain, and you feel your heart clench painfully in your chest at the thought that this man truly doesn’t understand just how many people adore him for just being… him. “Of course.”

You didn’t miss the rising of his cheeks, though he tried to hide himself beneath his arm, suddenly shy. You bit back a grin of your own, pressing one final kiss to the shell of his ear before returning to your earlier position and resuming the massage. He felt a dozen times more relaxed beneath you, the previous tension occupying his muscles having magically dissipated.

Sometimes, all he really needed was a little reassurance.

The smile that settled across your lips was unwavering as you took to kneading at the supple flesh of his hips, just above the top of his towel. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a flicker of a thought. A mischievous, dangerous thought. A thought that had your attention lingering on where the towel was tucked and secured on his right hip. Glancing up at the back of his head, you allowed your fingers to trail discretely towards the damp, white fabric, toying with it lightly so that he wouldn’t notice — not even as it came undone.

It was only as you peeled it swiftly away from his body and Baekhyun felt the rush of cool air across his backside that he realized what had just occurred.

“H– Hey!” He yelped, swinging his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash, eyes wide with disbelief.

“This is a full body massage, Baek. It’s not a full body massage unless it’s full body.”

“My butt does not need massaging.”

You grinned, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you cocked a challenging brow. “I beg to differ.”

“Pervert.” He hissed.

You gasped, splaying a hand across your chest. “Who told you?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your antics, but put up little resistance as you nudged his hands away from his butt. The tips of his ears and the back of his neck turned a dark, lovely shade of pink, and he quickly buried his face in his arms. Taking that as his nonverbal cue to continue, you poured yourself some more of the lavender scented oil, overturning your palm to let it drizzle onto his cheeks. He flinched slightly, the sensation catching him off guard.

So cute. You bit into the inside of your cheek to keep from cooing at him, opting to set your hands upon the gentle curve of his ass and knead your fingers into the soft, toned flesh. Baekhyun stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow, eyes fluttering as his body responded to the soothing touch.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You asked, tone teasing.

“Shut up.”

You snickered, massaging deep circles into the muscles of his upper thigh. He groaned deeply, fingers curling into the sheets. “Right there, right there— fuck, right there. It’s so sore.”

Heat flickered faintly in the pit of your stomach at the low rasping of his voice, grunted roughly through clenched teeth. Geez, why’d he have to sound so damn sexy…

Brushing off the thought as best you could, you forced yourself to focus on massaging the tension from his hamstrings. But each brush of your fingers over the insides of his thighs, intentional or otherwise, coaxed a round of violent shivers and breathless moans from your very much nude and very much oil covered boyfriend. You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, jaw clenching as you squeezed your hands around the backs of his lower thighs.

The sounds he was making weren’t helping your… situation in the least.

“How are you so good at this?” He asked, somewhat airily as your hands glided upwards, to just below the curve of his ass before returning to the crook of his knee. The question snapped you out of whatever trance you’d put yourself in watching the way his slick, honeyed skin dipped and curved deliciously beneath the pressure of your touch.

“Re- research. Lots of research.” You cleared your throat, shifting downwards on the mattress to set to work on his calves.

“You’re hands are fucking magic.”

Warmth slipped into your cheeks at the praise, your heart picking up speed within your chest. He was making it difficult for you to focus.

“I told you you’d like it.” You hummed playfully, beginning the slow ascent back up the length of his naked body.

“You were right,” he conceded easily, sighing in bliss as your hands slid over the small of his back, “I love it. Feels so fucking good, you have no idea.”

A content (and perhaps a bit smug) smile settled across your face. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. All you wanted was to make Baekhyun feel even just a little bit better after what you knew had to be a long, hard day— and you goddamn succeeded.

“Baek,” you murmured, and he gasped softly, not expecting your lips to be right next to his ear. He let out an unsteady hum, blinking hard twice when he felt your lace covered chest press against his back, “roll over for me?”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. You lifted yourself off of him to give him just enough room to turn onto his back beneath you. All at once you were nose to nose, soft puffs of breath caressing your mouth. He was looking up at you with those eyes again, those hooded, wanting eyes, his hands clenching at the sheets somewhere down by his sides. You could see the dark flush on his cheeks, the desperation slowly seeping into his expression.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” The question was quiet, barely a whisper on his delicate pink lips. But the fire it ignited inside of you was anything but— loud, violent, and devastating, ripping your so well kept self control to shreds in a matter of moments.

“Yeah,” you whispered, sliding a slick hand down his toned stomach, “but I’m going to touch it first.”

He barely had time to react before your hand was around his cock. He gasped, back arching, forcing his chest flush against yours. Surprise flickered across your face upon feeling him already fully hard and throbbing against your palm. “Oh?”

“What?” He huffed out breathlessly, swinging the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, “did you expect me not to get hard while my sexy girlfriend wearing sexy lingerie rubs every inch of my body with oil?”

Pausing, you squinted down at him. “It was the butt massage, wasn’t it?”

He glared, and you grinned.

But any annoyance was wiped clean off his face as you squeezed your fingers around him, stroking his dick at a slow, borderline torturous pace. The remaining oil on your hand combined with his precum provided the perfect lubrication, the slide smooth and wet, the lewd sound of it making you clench around nothing. Baekhyun’s head rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan. But, not for a moment did his gaze break from yours. You bit your lip harshly, a violent heat licking at your veins, the sheer intensity of his dark stare making your head feel dizzy.

“You look… so hot right now.” You hadn’t intended to say the words out loud, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to feel even the least bit ashamed.

The corner of his mouth curled into a sultry smirk, an airy chuckle rumbling somewhere low in his chest.

“Yeah?” You nodded. “Then kiss me.”

You did so without hesitation.

Baekhyun let out a heady groan, hands surging up from between your bodies to cradle your jaw as your lips worked against his with a hunger you hadn’t realized you possessed. It was uncoordinated and messy, all lashing tongue and vicious teeth, biting and sucking and licking until you were certain your that lips were raw. You were dizzy and intoxicated by the taste of him, and he wasn’t in much of a better state. With his cock in your hand and your tongue in his mouth, it didn’t seem like he’d last much longer.

Beneath you, Baekhyun’s hips bucked and rolled, frenzied and desperate. Your hand stilled around him, allowing him the luxury of control as he fucked himself violently into your closed fist. Each moan that tumbled from his mouth into yours was louder than the last, and you relished in the unabashed displays of pleasure, taking an immense amount of pride in knowing that you were the cause of it.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped the warning, his nails biting harshly into your shoulder, “fuck— fuck, wait— I’m g-gonna come.”

“Baek,” you panted, still trying to catch your breath from the kiss, “come for me. Please.”

His back arched, the furnace of his body overwhelmed but still trying feebly to fight back his oncoming high. Baekhyun didn’t like coming first. He’d always had the tendency of putting your pleasure above his own, making sure you came at least once (if not multiple times) before him. But tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was about him. And you were going to make sure he knew it.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking a dark bruise into his skin while simultaneously rolling your thumb over his sensitive tip in a way that had him trembling pathetically beneath you.

“Oh god— oh fuck— y/n—!” He came with a hoarse cry of your name, hips bucking, muscles tensing, skin shivering. You felt his hot release spilling over your knuckles, slipping between your fingers. He whimpered and squirmed as the overstimulation kicked in, but you didn’t stop stroking him until he started begging. “I can’t, I can’t— baby, please—” his chest heaved and his eyes went glassy, the dangerous cocktail of pleasure and pain making his head feel dizzy.

Looking down at him, so wrecked and fucked out, with those flushed cheeks and heavy eyes, you felt your heart flutter at the same time arousal coiled in your gut. He was just too damn pretty for his own good.

You relented, gently releasing his spent dick from your hold. He let out a shaky breath before tugging you into another mind numbing kiss. You moaned softly against his lips, feeling one of his hands coil around the back of your neck while the other explored the expanse of your back. It didn’t take long before they discovered the clasp of your bra, deftly unclasping it. Distracted by the skillful flicks of his tongue, you didn’t realize what he’d done until you felt the lacy fabric slip down your arms.

A giggle bubbled in your throat, and you whispered against his mouth, “naughty boy.”

His lips curled, and then all at once you found yourself sprawled on your back. “Naughty girl,” Baekhyun retaliated in a low, playful growl, pinning your hands to the mattress on either side of your head, “making me cum even after I told you to wait...”

His head dipped and you gasped softly as he nipped at the sensitive part of your throat, one hand sliding down to grip at your naked breast. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as he circled your nipple with a rough thumb.

“Guess I’ll just have to pay you back for it…”

You weren’t about to object to that.

#baekhyun fanfic #exo smut #byun baekhyun #exo #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun #exo baekhyun #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fic #exo scenarios #exo oneshot #exo imagines #kpop smut

[goonification]

san/seonghwa/wooyoung

established!woosan playing with their favourite toy, seonghwa 

(this is technically mostly sanhwa bc wooyoung likes to watch but he’s very much ateez present, don’t worry)

“Wow, Sannie look! He’s already hard.” 

Seonghwa already was on his knees in front of San when Wooyoung pointed shamelessly at the growing bulge in Seonghwa’s boxers. It was the only article of clothing left to hide just how turned on he was. His thighs tightened and his hands dropped with shame as he tried to hide the obvious outline of hard cock in his underwear. 

Wooyoung was casually cross-legged on the sidelines, as if he was merely watching them play video games and waiting his turn for the controller rather than about to witness his boyfriend get head from their mutual friend and occasional plaything. Wooyoung laughed loudly at Seonghwa's efforts. He was doing a terrible job at hiding the obvious. 

“Aw, you’re right.” San peered down past Seonghwa’s blushing face and chest to gawk at the tenting folds of Seonghwa’s boxers. “Well, Hyung is just going to have to wait now, isn’t he?”

Cheeks rosy, Seonghwa nodded politely. His body slowly started to decompress as he eased into the feeling of being on display for them. 

High off the prospect of getting his dick sucked while his boyfriend watched, a sleazy smirk was glued to San’s face. His t-shirt was only partially off, tucked behind his neck lazily and still attached to him at the sleeves. Seeing as he was otherwise fully dressed, it was obvious he was only trying to show off his abs with the impractical stunt. Wooyoung liked him best when he was cocky and San wasn’t one to deny his boyfriend a worthwhile show.

“It’s okay.” Wooyoung looked equally as cocky as he comforted Seonghwa, “San’s probably hard under there too.”

“Yeah?” Seonghwa spoke in barely a whisper, eyes innocent and wide as he redirected his attention directly in front of him to the in-seam of San’s jeans. The unforgiving fabric was tighter than usual. There was a gap between his body and the waist of his baggy pants that usually wasn’t there as they lifted away from his stomach.

Mindlessly, Seonghwa licked his lips before realizing how obvious he was being.

“Someone’s eager.” Wooyoung quipped through the drawl of his horny daze.

“Whenever you’re ready.” San looked down at Seonghwa’s desperation and threaded a strong hand through his hair for encouragement. “You know how much I like it when you unwrap me all by yourself.”

Shaky hands popped open the button of San’s pants. The sound of his fly being unzipped sent butterflies loose in the depths of Seonghwa’s stomach; the otherwise inconspicuous sound of a zipper was downright filthy given the context.

Next, Seonghwa pulled down on San’s belt loops with enough force for the fabric to clear the resistance of his bulge and leave San in only a loose pair of boxers.

They shared a warm exchange as Seonghwa peered up at San with already-damp eyes, savouring the last moment as himself before he was reduced to nothing but a hole for San to use. San pushed the hair out of Seonghwa’s face, preparing him for what was about to come.

Brain foggy, Seonghwa was thinking hard to decide how he would remove the last layer, trying to ignore the background noise of fabric shifting followed by soft moans. Wooyoung never was keen on patience. 

“C’mon Hyung, you know San doesn’t like to be teased.” Wooyoung grunted out a warning, breath already wavering as he pleasured himself beneath his waistband.

“I’m pretty sure you just want to see my cock.” San wasted no time putting Wooyoung in his place, to which he simply groaned with pleasure at the insult.

San was interrupted from reveling in his boyfriend’s crudeness when he felt the chill of cold air across his cock. Seonghwa was carefully lifting the elastic waist of his boxer up and over the member before letting it pool at San’s legs.

All three of their breaths slowed down as they took in their own unique perspective on the scene. Seonghwa was face to head with San’s thick cock, veiny and already sticky at the tip for him. It wasn’t quite unfamiliar but the sight was still fresh and pleasantly shocking enough that it knocked the air right out of his lungs.

San’s ego was stroked to completion as he watched his Hyung’s reaction to his dick, breath hitching and eyes locked on to the head, leaking at the promise of Seonghwa’s soft lips soon to be wrapped around it.

Lastly, Wooyoung accompanied the sight of his boyfriend’s hard cock, inches away from a needy Seonghwa’s parted lips, with a greedy squeeze to his own aching balls, reminding himself of just how much he liked to watch.

His whiny voice impatiently cut through the tension in the room like a dull knife begging to be sharpened. “Go on. Don’t leave him waiting.” 

“Shhh, Wooyoung.” San saw Seonghwa’s eyes glaze with panic and scolded his greedy boyfriend. “I want him to think for himself.”

“But you’re dripping.” Wooyoung winced when a weighty drop of San’s precum succumbed to gravity and hit the floor. To him it was a thoughtless waste.

“Hyung knows what he’s doing.” San tsked. He glared daggers at Wooyoung. “Do you want to be blindfolded? Because I’ll do it.”

The threat was plausible and hit him where it hurt. He loved watching almost as much as he loved being in the centre of the action. Wooyoung quickly shook his head no and made a zipping motion across his lips. The thought of having to get off from sounds and smell alone was torture. He would be quiet for now.

Well, as quiet as his body would let him be as he continued pleasuring himself.

Meanwhile, hot breath against San’s dick became hotter with each shallow puff from Seonghwa’s lungs.

“Can I?” Seonghwa looked up longingly at San, waiting for permission he knew he already had. He was stalling. His heart was racing and he wasn’t sure why. 

“Of course, baby boy.” San cupped Seonghwa’s face. He softly swiped his thumb over one of his Hyung’s cheekbones, caressing the soft skin there. San couldn’t help imagining how pretty he would look with cheeks hollowed out and taking his dick, however, he kept his filthy thoughts to himself. Seonghwa needed support first. “You can set the pace, okay?”

Seonghwa nodded, happy with the compromise. San’s hand on his cheek was a gentle comfort that he didn’t want to give up quite yet. Easing into the blowjob, Seonghwa went in tongue first instead, sliding it out of his mouth and creeping the wet muscle towards San’s cock. Even though he knew it was coming, when the wetness finally came into contact with San’s cockhole, flicking at the divot, his muscles jumped into a flex and his hands dropped to his side.

Wooyoung was ecstatic. The sight of San’s full body tensing with pleasure was something he was rarely privy to a secondhand view of. It really let him drink in every individual muscle of his boyfriend’s sculpted body. All his favourite memories of skin-on-skin came flooding back, hindsight guiding his hand up and down his own shaft furiously. He wouldn’t last long like this, but needy and pathetic was his style. It suited him.

With Seonghwa’s mouth still free to express emotion, a small smile crept onto his face. Both boys were moaning, music to Seonghwa’s ears and he was the composer. However, he wouldn’t let himself get too cocky. His power trip had a clear expiration date. Not that he minded; he preferred the stress-free alternative to shot calling.

It wasn’t long before Seonghwa finished cleaning all the streaks of San’s precum. He punctuated his methodic lapping at San’s head by sloppily wrapping his tongue around the shaft to assure that he got all the hard to reach places.

“Jesus.” San whispered.

Seonghwa pulled back, leaving San’s damp cock at the mercy of the cold room and Wooyoung’s greedy sightlines. “Good?”

“Very.” San was out of breath, speaking in bursts. He wouldn’t dare beg, but he was clearly desperate. He grabbed his cock at the base and positioned it perpendicular to Seonghwa’s lips. “Need your mouth...”

De-stressed and prepped to be used, Seonghwa was satisfied knowing his fun was over. There was already a fresh bead of precum forming on San’s tip, putting Seonghwa’s previous efforts to waste. To both Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s surprise, instead of taking his mouth as promised, San pressed the creamy head against Seonghwa’s lips. Eyes locked with Seonghwa, San messily dragged thick streaks of white across the puckered lips as Wooyoung watched in awe at the sloppiness of the scene.

Finally, San centered his cock to rest in the small gap between Seonghwa’s slicked up pout. “Open up.”

Wanting to be good, Seonghwa listened. Not giving him time to adjust, each millimeter that Seonghwa opened his jaw was just an invitation for San to push himself further inside the wet hole. He slid in with ease, using his own precum as lube and taking his mouth inch by inch, only pausing when he felt Seonghwa’s throat convulse with a small choke. 

Wooyoung, dick still in hand, rolled his eyes. “I could’ve taken you like that easy.” He was clearly enamoured by the sight of tears in Seonghwa’s eyes, an unavoidable physical response to him being filled all at once. Wooyoung continued, adding insult to injury. “Warm up is for pussies.”

San ignored the rude comment from his boyfriend, more worried about Seonghwa. “You okay?” He checked in, hoping he hadn’t damaged his favourite toy.

“Mmhm.” Seonghwa moaned loudly and affirmatively around the cock, shaking it with deep vibrations. San tensed up again at the quick and unexpected feeling, only to damn near collapse when Seonghwa swallowed around him, sucking him several inches deeper into his mouth in the process.

“God, you’re so good at that.” San complimented, forgetting how positively Seonghwa reacts to praise.

His words only inspired the older boy to work even harder, bobbing his head furiously. The pace he was setting would be brutal if San dared to comply to it, and Seonghwa had no signs of slowing down in sight. Each movement of his head brought San’s dick closer to the back of his throat, tongue fighting against the speed of his slippery movements to wrap around the shaft when possible.

“Sannie, please, just fuck him.” Whiny and equally as desperate, Wooyoung had already coated himself in spit, preparing to stroke himself to compilation any minute now. He wanted the show that he was promised if he was going to risk blowing his load. “Look how badly he wants you.”

Seonghwa dragged nails over San’s hips, squeezing the flesh to co-sign what Wooyoung said. He did want San. He wanted San to fuck him stupid. Yet, San merely stood there as he got pleasured, hands on the crown of Seonghwa’s head, body frozen and too worried about Seonghwa to move. 

And that’s why Wooyoung was there.

“Hyung, look here.” Wooyoung cooed, voice dripping with theatrics. Seonghwa did as he was told, shimmery eyes glancing over as he slowed his pace on San’s cock to focus up on Wooyoung.

With this new cause now seeming far more important than Wooyoung’s pleasure, the pumps around his cock had slowed as well, intentional squeezes to show off his veins now that he had Seonghwa’s attention. Wooyoung let out a quiet laugh, probably at him. “Now there’s our good boy. So good at listening and following directions, aren’t you?” Seonghwa’s eyes lit up at the praise, excess drool escaping down his chin from the gaps around San’s cock. 

San was also quiet, listening politely to Wooyoung and continuing to be pleasured from below. He was eager to hear the pitch.

“Aw, so messy. You’re even dripping through your shorts.” Wooyoung used his free hand to shamelessly point, redirecting everyone’s attention to the damp stain on Seonghwa’s boxers. “Take those off, will you? I bet you’ll feel much more comfortable.”

Whimpering sadly as San’s cock had to pop free from his lip’s grasp, Seonghwa complied, shuffling the boxers off his knees and leaving him comfortably exposed.

“Better?”

“Better.” Seonghwa croaked, his throat sore. His head was spinning, averting his attention between all three of their cocks, before finally focusing on San’s again.

“Wow…” San looked past his own dick to gawk at the newly visible one. It was bright red, sore from neglect. He nearly felt bad before remembering that Seonghwa was enjoying this. It was exactly what he signed up for.

Still, Seonghwa’s puppy dog eyes were too much for San, he folded with sympathy within seconds of the sight. “You can touch yourself if you want.”

“Really?” Seonghwa whimpered.

Whatever soft and gentle treatment San was about to pamper him with was cut off by Wooyoung’s simpler answer. “Just make sure you’ve earned it.” 

With determination, Seonghwa nodded. First, he wrapped a hand around his own cock, gasping at the contact of his palm’s soft skin. His pretty moans were quickly muffled though as he willingly suckled on the tip of San’s dick. His tongue slid over every crevice between parted lips but it was clear neither his mouth or hand would be moving until San took control.

“You idiot, don’t just stand there. You told him to set the pace and he did. Don’t disappoint us.” Wooyoung continued to redirect the scene in the direction of his ideal fantasy. “Give our good boy the face fucking he deserves.” Greedy as he was, the interruption was the final push necessary to give San the reassurance that he wouldn’t break their poor toy.

Much like before, he pushed himself inside the cavern between Seonghwa’s swollen lips, filling the hole inch by inch. However, this time, there was no resistance until he bottomed out, sharp breaths from Seonghwa’s nose puffing against his abdomen.

Their toy was finally ready to be thoroughly used.

San’s hips pulled back only to snap forward again, filling Seonghwa’s throat with his shaft and subsequently drowning him with hot precum.

Seonghwa only groaned with pleasure, giving slow strokes to his own hard cock in tandem with San’s hesitant movements.

He fucked him again. And again. And again, before deciding that Seonghwa really could take it. He would take it, regardless of his capabilities. Their Hyung was beyond determined to be used that night. Used until San was fucking him at that relentless speed he was desperately begging for. Seonghwa didn’t want time to catch his breath; he wanted San.

Wooyoung eyed the thick liquid dripping from Seonghwa’s cock as it was thrust into his creamy fist with each of San’s movements. Seonghwa’s pale body was being jerked around to his advantage, not even needing to move his wrist to fuck himself in time with San’s thrusts. Wooyoung’s voice was shaky. “See Sannie, he loves it! He’s getting close already.”

San grunted, appreciative of the description that made his imagination go wild. “Fuck, I am too.” His body ached from repeatedly slamming his cock down Seonghwa’s eager throat, the boy somehow still finding time to swallow around him on the way in and out. San threw his head back, exposing a neck full of fading purple and red. “Won’t be much longer.” 

“Oh! On his face, please?” Wooyoung begged, clearly getting close himself as well. “I want to see your load so badly. I want to see you all over that pretty face of his.”

San nodded, more than happy to oblige the request. He redirected his attention to Seonghwa, blissed out and hardly paying attention to the world around him. He needed to come back to reality first. “I’m so fucking close. God.” It took all San’s focus to give the simple task. “Cum with me, baby. You can manage that, can’t you?” It was hardly a question. The three boys had mere seconds left of pride before they’d all have to choose where they wanted to empty their loads.

Seonghwa couldn’t answer with words but his eyes, fluttering up at San with both pride of his journey and need for conclusion, said all he needed to know. Seonghwa allowed his jaw to go slack and his neck to fall limp, head only being held upright by large, gentle hands as San fucked the mouth relentlessly, hips on fire and balls tighter than ever. 

Right until they weren’t.

With a flash of white, San’s vision went blank, just enough coherence left to fulfill the request of pulling out of Seonghwa’s mouth with a whine, thick and creamy strands still connected to his lips, and blow the rest of his load all over Seonghwa’s tolerant face.

Just as he was told, Seonghwa came with him, holding himself hostage on the edge right until the first gulp of hot cum hit the back of his throat and the second ended up on his cheek. He shook his cock vigorously, making sure every last drop had been milked as San just kept finishing over and over for what felt like forever, covering Seonghwa with a trophy of his hard work.

Ironically, Wooyoung came last, cock intentionally directed up his own body as he spurted ropes of white all over his chest and stomach for no reason other than giving himself a show. While it was only seconds later than the others, he was stubborn, refusing to let himself go without that visual he wanted so badly of Seonghwa’s face, soft cheeks and puffy lips coated in streaks of his boyfriend’s hot load and stripping him of all dignity. He happily licked his own fingers clean of excess while admiring his boys, both satisfied and happy.

While it would usually be considered a waste to see San’s cum anywhere other than in one of his own holes, Wooyoung figured Seonghwa’s lips were free real-estate for a taste. Breaking the barriers of his fantasy, he crawled over and claimed Seonghwa’s mouth with a kiss, much gentler than usual for Wooyoung. Seonghwa, still not sure exactly what was going on, melted right into the feeling of cold lips notching against his own, wet and salty with yet another familiar flavour mixing in to accompany San’s taste.

Barely recovering from his pleasure, San broke out in a beaming smile when his eyes opened to two pretty boys on their knees, sloppily kissing next to his satisfied cock and sharing his taste. 

Wooyoung pulled back first, admiring the deer-in-headlights look on Seonghwa’s face. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up so we can ruin you all over again.”

#ateez fic #ateez smut #woosanhwa #woosan #woohwa #sanhwa #atz fic #atz smut #so sorry for making wooyoung a cuck here #it's sexy though so i think it's ok #wooyoung smut #san smut #seonghwa smut

[parkers-gal]

OMG!!! for angst you should do one where Harry finally gets a girl and everyone’s used to choosing tom over him and the reader is just naturally close to tom and he accuses her of cheating on him w T and it’s really angsty

requests are open

wc: 1.8k

—

It was a force of habit. Everybody knew, but nobody mentioned. Nobody knew the full extent of it, nobody cared to ask how much it bothered him. In hindsight, it probably isn't even that obvious. Not unless you open your eyes, not unless somebody confides in you, plants the idea in your head so you can’t see it differently

You had been going out with Harry for a good two months by the time you’d finally met the rest of his family. You and Tom had met previously before, having been introduced and together for only a day before both of your jobs drove you in opposite directions. When you rejoiced, you were naturally close, reconnecting that bond that was cut off too shortly.

Harry didn’t mind at first. He liked that you got along with his family. It made him happy to know you fit so well into his lifestyle. But it wasn’t until people started whispering around, joking that they always thought you and Tom would end up together. It was all fun and games, you knew that, of course. You’d never thought of Tom that way, despite everyone forcing the idea onto you. It was a mutual agreement, that the two of you would never cause problems between your relationship with Harry. And that your relationship with Harry would never splinter your friendship with Tom.

It was just after a dinner with Harry’s family. You were talking with Tom while Harry talked to Sam, when somebody made another joke about how you should be with Tom instead. You laughed it off, as you always did, but Harry couldn’t do the same. He excused himself as Nikki brought a few dishes out. You noticed his hostile and closed off walk, so you, too, excused yourself before following him out of the dining room and all the way upstairs to where he’d hid off to.

You knocked with the knuckles of your right hand. “Har?” The door creaked open as you nudged it slightly, stepping into the room. “You okay?” He grumbled something inaudible and you stepped closer. “What was that?”

“I said no, I’m not.” “What’s wrong, hun?” You carefully sat yourself next to him, naturally leaning into his side.

“It seems like everyone just thinks you’re dating my brother! I mean, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if there’s something else going on.” You back track, sitting up and separating from his side with furrowed brows. “What?” He didn’t answer, merely turning to look the other way, leaning his elbows on his knees as he sighed. “Harry you know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” He’s angry, and you finally notice just how much.

“Harry… you know we’re just friends. We’ve always been this close.”

“Yeah well maybe you’re too close.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like that with anyone else.” “I’m like that with everyone else! Everyone except you.” You huff, defending yourself but keeping your voice calm.

“What makes me so damn different, then, huh?”

“You’re my boyfriend, Harry! Of course you’re different!”

“Yeah well I can’t see the difference between how you treat boyfriends and how you treat best friends, anymore.”

“What?” You sit back a bit, shock running through your veins at his confession.

“Really, though! It’s a bit fishy, if you ask me.” He’s still speaking sternly, angrily. He’s frustrated, but now so are you.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are, Harry.” You’re just as angry now. You’re warning him, hoping he won’t jump off that ledge into the irreversible.

“I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting.” He takes the leap.

“You know I’m not that kind of person. You know your brother, Harry. He’d never do something like that to you.” You’re trying to reach an empathetic approach, not quite ready to burst unless he’s absolute about this.

“No but I know that everyone else is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” “That means everyone else chooses my brother over me. I’m used to it.”

“You’re not implying that I’m one of those people, are you?” You gaze into his eyes, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth. He swallows thickly.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m not angry if you are with him. I just wish you’d told me before cheating.”

“What the fuck, Harry,” You mutter it, exhaling angrily. “I’m not cheating!”

“I’m telling you I’m not angry that you are!”

“If you weren’t angry, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“So you admit you’re cheating on me? That I should be angry?”

“Fuck you, Harry.” You jab a finger in his direction. “You know that’s not what I said or what I meant.”

“I mean, you don’t even need to say it.” He chuckles bitterly.

“What does that mean?” You’re raising your voice, anger thickening the tension in the room.

“I mean, take one look at you and Tom together in a room and you already look like you’re in love.”

“Fuck that, Harry. He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have friends, y’know.”

“I never said otherwise!”

“What are you even on, right now?” You stand angrily, looking at him. He looks at you with a mirrored expression.

“I’m just asking for the truth, here!”

“No, you’re jealous.” He swallows, nostrils flaring. You know you’ve hit a weak spot, a sensitive area. He’s angry as ever, now. He stands. “Harry, I’m s-”

“You’re in love with someone else.”

Tears fall from your eyes as you try to compose yourself. You’re just as angry. You’ve taken the blow, fired your own canons. You’re not sure how much longer you can battle in the field.

“Fuck you, Harry.”

“No, fuck you!”

“You’re jealous and have the audacity to say I’m ‘in love with someone else!’” You spit out your words bitterly.

“I’m not fucking jealous! I’m fucking hurt! You’re cheating!”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the pettiness of the argument. You know there's a reason behind his unreasonableness, but he doesn’t have the right to hurt you with his words.

He’s blinded by anger, though. He doesn’t have boundaries when something takes what he loves. He’s hurt, obviously, but he was too insecure to truly confide in the real reason for his distress. Now he’s angered the both of you, now he’s crumbled the foundation. He’s pulled the relationship apart at the seams, breaking the promise and splintering one relationship after another. He knows, in some way, though, that he’s right. He knows because if he weren’t then he wouldn’t be as hurt as he is.

“You’re a fucking child, Harry.” You cross your arms, grabbing your bag that was sitting on the chair in the corner. “Find me when you grow the fuck up.” You open the door of the bedroom, slamming it and marching down the stairs angrily.

You’ve caught the attention of the rest of his family. The two of you were up there for a good twenty minutes; you’d left Tom wondering what was happening and if things were okay. He could see now that things weren’t. He could also see that you were crying and he moved over to comfort you but you shoved him off, declining his embrace, knowing it would only make you feel worse because of what Harry had said.

You put your free hand up, gesturing for him to stop and back off. You’re gripping your bag tightly as you pull out your keys. You hold yourself back from slamming the front door, knowing you didn’t want to make an entire scene at Nikki’s house.

They watch from the doorway. They watch you slam your car door, burst into tears once you start the car. They watch as you drive off. The minute your car is out of view, Tom marches upstairs, ready to get to the bottom of what happened and why you’re so hurt. He doesn’t bother knocking on Harry’s door.

“What the fuck, man?” Harry exasperates, looking to his brother with wild eyes.

“I should be asking you that,” He slams the door. “What did you do to Y/N?” Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Of course that’s why you’re here.”

“I’m here because she just ran out crying and I deserve to know why!” “You don’t deserve anything from me, Tom.” Harry spits out. They’re yelling at each other. He wishes things were different.

“Fuck that, Harry. You know I’m her best friend. I deserve to know.”

“Why are you her best friend?” He screams out. Tom goes quiet at the question, wanting to hear more, wanting to understand where he was coming from. “My entire life, I spent in your shadow. I had to normalize girls automatically wanting you more than me. An-and the minute I get something that’s finally mine- some thing that actually wanted me for once, you question why I’m angry about her also wanting you? No, fuck you, Tom.” His words are clear and crisp and his eyes are drowning in salty tears. He wants to swallow his feelings, push them away and blink his tears gone. But he can’t. “I thought finding someone was about falling in love and growing into soulmates or some shit. That’s all she ever talked about when we first started dating! It was always ‘best friends to lovers makes for the best couple’ and ‘falling in love with your best friend is the best thing in the world.’ And at first, I actually had the nerve to think she was talking about me. But now I know I’m just her boyfriend- I’m not her best friend, because that position is already filled.”

He eyes Tom up and down as his face loses its tense expression. He struggles to get a breath, gasping as more tears come out. Tom is silent and Harry assumes the conversation is over. He shoves past Tom, knocking into his shoulder as he runs out, slamming the door and trapping himself into the bathroom. He can barely breathe, barely see clearly through the waterworks.

Tom realizes why Harry lashed out, why he grew insecure. But he can’t place who’s in the wrong, who should make the first move and apologize first. He also realizes Harry is so upset about this because he loves you so much. He’d never seen his brother feel so strongly for someone. He realizes he might’ve taken that away from him.

And suddenly, he realizes neither of you are in the wrong. You’re both right in your own ways. He realizes he’s been in the wrong this whole time. He realizes he’s making this love story about himself. He’s torn his beloved brother up, questioned what was supposed to be set in stone.

Maybe Harry was right; maybe he didn’t deserve anything from Harry. Maybe Harry was the one who deserved the explanation.

Why did you get what’s his?

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland x you #harry holland angst #harry holland fluff #harry holland fic #harry holland imagine #harry holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #jealous!harry #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot