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#disclaimer: I am not a writing blog
cuppajj · 2 years
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🌻
Sentient!Lost Light x Liaison!Human!Reader (Gender Neutral) by cuppityjuppity (art by cuppajj)
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“Have you not been sleeping well?”
You hear the the ship’s voice hum from the speakers on your bedroom wall, as you lay awake on your bed. It’s past lights out, and everyone else on board was recharging. They already knew that the human liaison would be… irregular, when it came to customs, but all were certain that you slept at the same time they did.
All including the Lost Light themself, who you had just learned was alive a week or so ago. It had been an accident, so you thought; with your ties to Ultra Magnus, you had been given the ins and outs of liaison life aboard the ship; standard by the books fare that you’d already been briefed to by the EDC. However, it was one unlucky meeting when you announced your presence, and someone else was already in the room; or at least, you could hear someone else was. As Magnus had whipped his helm down to you, flustered as if he’d been caught breaking integrity, a short silence between all three of you was soon ended by the voice that emanated from the room’s speakers. “It’s alright, Ultra Magnus,” they had chuckled, the sound rumbling through the floor. “I knew they were coming. You needn’t worry about one more soul in on the secret.”
The Lost Light had been interested in you for quite some time, in fact. Of the millions of years of their life, not one little organic has boarded their ship; certainly not a human, like you. You’re a new species, only a couple hundred thousand or so years old, and had just been introduced to the greater intergalactic community. You’re as curious about everything as they are about you: your odd little movements, the way you speak with your silly human accent, even the way you walk in itty bitty strides with legs and feet half the size of an average cybertronian digit. And you’re so… tiny! As a massive starship, even a minibot would be hard to see with their two optics, which made it nigh impossible for them to watch a human. Only through their intricate camera systems and holomatter technology could you, like the rest of the crew, be up close. You seemed sweet, when they introduced their holoform persona, Lightlost, at the Swerve’s “new-squishy-welcome-party” thrown for you when you first joined. You’d happily conversed with the cartographer longer than you had anyone else. Something about their warm and humble personality made you feel welcomed, like you had come home to someone you could trust. By the end of it, you were comfortable enough to trust them with picking you up and perching you on their shoulder. You remembered noticing how similar their frame looked to the starship itself, but you thought nothing of it. Not at the time.
Now you know the secret—but even still, the two of you are close. Closer than before, even. With the knowledge of the Lost Light having a spark of their own, you couldn’t feel any safer. There were mishaps all the time, and you know the Lost Light isn’t there every waking moment to fix whatever has been broken, but the feeling of someone watching over you gives you a sense of protection, as a tiny organic aboard a ship full of giant robots.
The Lost Light steps out of their way to ensure you are safe and happy.
Even as you hear their concerned ask, and roll over in bed groggily as a response. Your hazy eyes catch the clock on the wall: 2:30 AM, converted from Cybertronian time just for your convenience.
“…How long have you… been here?” You murmur into the side of your pillow.
“Only a minute,” they answer. “I just finished convincing the Captain to put down his work. I felt you moving around in a disturbance, and thus wished to check in.”
You emit another rumble from your throat. The Lost Light finds it adorable, despite your predicament, but speaks again with concern still present. “Has anything been bothering you, little one?”
You remain silent, motionless in the bed. Your mind sifts through thoughts as you begin to formulate a sentence that can explain yourself as best you can, in this state. Finally, you slowly push yourself up into a sitting position, head and back slouched over.
“It’s… stupid,” you admit softly, sadly, “but I miss home.”
The ship hums in acknowledgment.
“This place isn’t Earth, and everyone is so huge,” you continue. “It’s big and metallic, and nothing feels familiar. I know I wanted to come here, but I didn’t know how homesick I’d get…”
As you speak, the ventilation in the room quiets so your voice stands out. A slight gust of comfortable warm air brushes through your sheets.
“I understand…” the Lost Light whispers. “You’re so far from where you’ve been your whole life. The sudden change in setting is never one that you can so easily adjust to.”
You nod, sinking further into your seat.
“…However,” you hear them continue, “I believe that homesickness is a sign of love, and it is expressed by all of us. Even myself, for the world I called my own. To be in a place where we are safe, comfortable, happy, familiar… that is what we miss.”
“Mm…”
“In that case, little liaison,” you hear the soft smile in their voice, “while I may not be your home, nothing would please me more than to serve as your home away from it.”
Your head perks up at the dark room in front of you, their surrounding presence, with tired yet brightening eyes. You wish you can say more, ask more, but in your state, all you can muster is “huh?”
Moments later, you hear the sound of static and distortion as a blue light appears before you, glitching and flicking as the Lost Light’s holoform manifests in the room. Lightlost, significantly smaller than usual, approaches you. The two of you exchange looks; and as you stare into their eyes, you remember why they made you feel comforted in the first place.
“This place… I, my crew, we might all be… hectic, at times,” they whisper, meeting you at your bedside. “However, there is nothing I would rather do than ensure that you, little one, feel as close to home as you can. Whatever I can do, I will do it if you so ask.”
They reach out and lightly rest their warm hand on your shoulder, smiling fondly. “If homesickness is a sign of love, then I wish for you to love where you are now, someday. Not just what I provide, but what everyone provides.”
You think about the others you’ve befriended, and the experiences you’ve shared, wild as they are. Your adventures off world, with Rodimus, with Drift, with even Brainstorm, though you’d never do it again. They all liked you, and were interested in your uniqueness, and you remembered fondly of how you’d share moments with them during the highs and lulls of excitement, all before returning to the ship for a drink and a party. You think of days that aren’t as exciting; lazy afternoons in your room as you indulge yourself in your human interests that only you understand, atop your bed or couch, with nothing in that moment feeling out of place from your room back on earth. One of your robot friends would poke their holoform’s head in and join you, and while you clearly knew they weren’t, it felt nice to talk to a human face to face. You think about moments like this, with the Lost Light. Though even if they may be elsewhere, they always know where you are and how to keep you safe.
A smile graces your features, and you relax your head on your pillow once more. Lightlost gently pulls the covers over you with a grin, pleased that their words touched your heart.
You hum, “thank you.”
“Thank you,” they croon, “for joining me. But most importantly, for deciding to stay.”
They reach their hand down and stroke your head, and you close your eyes. You hear the faint sound of static again, the touch fading from your skin. A draft of warm air flows through the room, purified and smooth, and you breathe in.
Over the speaker, you hear their voice once more, shortly before you slip into your subconscious.
“Sleep well, little one.”
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nihongoseito · 3 months
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How do you stay motivated in self-study?
メッセージありがとうございます! thank you for asking!
this is an interesting question for me because i've been self-studying for so long...almost 12 years at this point(?!?!). i decided to learn japanese for fun and for no other reason than because i wanted to (i'm a big proponent of "if it sucks, hit da bricks" lol). i was just a kid, so i had no idea at all how much time and effort it would entail, and sometimes i think that back then, if i had known at the time how much studying and studying and more studying it would take for me to become conversationally proficient, i wouldn't have even started. and i'm really, really glad i don't live in that world, where i never decided to self-study because i thought too far into the future and tried to quantify my studying.
so i guess that's my biggest piece of advice, even though it sounds counterintuitive: try not to plan where you're going next or any specific long-term goals, because if you're anything like me, you'll scare yourself off. if you focus just on what's right in front of you—today's kanji, your current textbook, etc.—then you'll have a much easier time remembering why you like japanese (or whatever target language you're working on!). that kind of viewpoint on learning a language makes it really clear that you are building a beautiful structure out of many discrete pieces, not just out of thin air or sheer linguistic osmosis. not only has that attitude kept me motivated, since making decisions as i go always keeps things fresh, but i also genuinely think it's helped me learn better and remember what i've studied.
also, don't be afraid to give up on something, a book or a grammar point or even a whole routine/study plan, and try something else instead. you can always come back to it later, and in my opinion there's no point trying to quantify or quantitatively evaluate your learning in that way. there's absolutely no shame in admitting something is too hard right now. plus, letting yourself feel confident in what you do know is a great boost to motivation—every single little piece is an accomplishment!
does any of that make sense?? this is how i've handled it anyway! ofc, the nature of self-study is that it's different for everyone, but hopefully the things i've said here resonate with some people :) みんな、頑張ってね!!
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netegf · 6 months
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not that anyone really cares all that much anyways bc my blog is not super popular by any means, but i'm sorry i haven't really been checking my notifs or responding or being as active and outspoken as i want to be. i am very deeply devastated by everything that's going on right now and as an afghan muslim with palestinian family members, i can't even begin to explain my feelings nor the pain just that it's enduring and everywhere. i am working on a rafe fic to help myself cope more than anything else - but yeah, just know that this blog believes in a free palestine and no, that does not mean anti-semitism. in fact, it is largely the work of the many incredible and pioneering jewish scholars of anti-zionism whose words and solidarity are lending me strength at this time. i hope you will keep the people of gaza in your hearts and apply your morals evenly.
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purecorrupted · 6 months
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{ 21 + } multi-muse + multi-ship / exclusive + selective independent roleplay blog featuring muses from: harry potter, the vampire diaries, pretty little liars, and more. please read rules & bios prior to interaction- some of the muses have divergences that affect my portrayal.
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as corrupted by kenz { 25 | pst | she / her }
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carrd • rules • muses • headcanons • navi • promo • board
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blogroll :
canon muses : { @purecorrupted &. @corruptedpure &. @pure-corrupted &. @corrupted-pure }
viktorya : { @petrovawitch &. @petrovaswitch &. @petrovaglitch }
my book : { @tempusnati }
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affiliates :
@malka-lisitsa @apex-royalty @little-elena @multi-royalty @hybrid-royalty-main @baby-royalty @ofcrossrcads
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credits :
everything is either mine, from @multi-royalty-commissions, and / or reblogged at @corrupted-pure
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deancrowleycas · 11 months
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That watch cost as much as what i make in a year. Yes. I am poor as fuck. 🙃 after bills and food been paid fore i have zero dinero in my wallet the fore anything else.
Hey nonnie. I feel you in that I am a student and poor as fuck as well. I at this point have no money in my bank account so the rest of the month will be spent eating instant ramen asdkfkdsjh.
Not exactly what you're talking about, but there is definitely a power imbalance, especially knowing I am as broke as I am because I spent all my money for a Purcon ticket where Jensen also will be because I was afraid it would sell out (not to see him though, more to meet my mutuals). I do this because it contributes to my happiness and is what drives me forward to do all the other things. At the same time, of course, conventions are taking advantage of people's feelings. I mean, Jensen doesn't need the money from the cons. It's a win-win situation in that both parties come out of cons getting something from it, but then I get reminded of how Jensen just casually can buy a 10k watch and I think of how exploitative the con system is. But then I think how he doesn't owe us his time or anyone his money and my thoughts start spiraling. In the end, this thing can have multitudes. Still, it's weird to be both involved in it and know about fandom dynamics ksdfksdhk. Sorry if I don't make any sense, nonnie. Also sorry for drifting so far away from your message.
I for sure am a little bitter about how 10k can have so much different value to different people, depending on the situation they are in. That's a thing I criticize. But at the same time, hey, I like Jackles, and good for him he's thriving in that sense. Those two things don't have to exclude each other, I guess. I wish there was more brain cell left than that to answer your message properly but you got me in a situation where I'm a little stressed with all the uni stuff etc going on.
What I actually wanted to say is, yeah I feel you, and also sorry that you're in that situation. 10k is a lot of money for you and me both. That watch truly shows how Jackles lives in a different world than us. But I still try to approach it positively - which is absolutely not exclusive of being critical of who exactly gets paid what for what in the creative industries, I mean there is a WGA strike going on rn for reasons - and just be funny on my little blog enjoying silly actor man posts to get through the day :)
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yourlocalxbox · 22 days
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Totality - Undertronic
Seth and Sine spend time admiring the eclipse. Written in one hour, 832 words.
“Do you know how beautiful your art is?”
Seth stared at the sky with clasped hands. A gentle breeze blew past - Zephyros’ sigh, he supposed. He couldn’t help but wonder who held that God Soul now. Seth had always wanted to meet the wind god; perhaps the two could make a good pair.
What a silly thought.
Golden hair fell into his eyes, yet he never moved. Never took his gaze off of his work. Not a second could be missed. He heard laughter behind him.
“What are you doing?” Sine reached from behind and brushed Seth’s hair out of his face. He couldn’t help but notice how his touch lingered longer than it had to. He couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t mind. “You can hardly see through all of that.”
“Like you would know,” Seth quipped. The skeleton behind him snorted.
“Hey, I can make some guesses.”
Sine crept into the corner of Seth’s vision. He pulled off his hood and craned his neck to match Seth. One hand rested in the pocket of his cloak; the other nearly startled Seth out of his trance when it grazed his fingers.
“I could get us something. Tea. Whiskey. Coffee, extra-strong. On the house. Off the rocks. I could go on.”
Seth grinned. “No, thank you. This is enough.”
“But you don’t have anything?”
Seth held his tongue. This was more than enough.
“Won’t it be too dark?”
Seth paused. The thought did cross his mind, but he was not one to be afraid of the dark. A bit of daytime nightfall wouldn’t bother him - he didn’t know what it would take to make him fear the dark, but this was not it. “Not with you around.” He made a vague gesture to the skeleton’s ears. Their calming light was sufficient to keep the growing shadows at bay. Sine gently scratched at one of Seth’s clasped hands, and he let it fall open. The two looked upwards to Seth’s work of art.
The eclipse neared its totality.
“Do you think,” Sine started, “Do you think…”
Seth cocked his head to the side.
“Nevermind.”
The remaining sunlight faded around them.
“No no, what were you saying? Please.”
The shadows cut deeper.
“It’s silly. It’s just a silly thought.”
Sine’s light danced across his face.
“You know those are my favourite.”
“Do you think we could stay like this forever?”
And the world fell yet darker.
“I don’t want this to end. It’s beautiful. Look at it,” Sine mused.
“There’s nothing to look at.”
“Exactly. You did this. You did this, Seth. Look at what you can do.”
Sine’s grip tightened around his hand. He felt dizzy from how his heart beat so unusually. They both knew it was a silly thought. The planets would pass, life would go on. Every couple decades or so, Seth would sit down and repeat the process, as this soul had done for hundreds of thousands of years. This was nothing special. This was just as the last ten thousand had been. It was the same one, the same sun that had people worshipped long before these souls reached their hosts. This couldn’t last forever. Their tails curled around each other. Maybe not forever.
“...I can make you a compromise.”
Seth couldn’t make it last forever. Not even a minute. The others would notice; planets were not something to be trifled with. The Death Well flashed in his mind. Yes, that was a fate he would prefer to avoid.
But a moment wouldn’t hurt.
He squeezed Sine’s hand back, flesh caressing bone. “I think…”
Sine smiled. “You sure about that one?”
“You- Come on, I lost my train of thought.”
“It’s alright,” said Sine. Seth tore his eyes away from his art to meet his. “I think that I think so too.”
The light began to fade back in around them. Seth quickly turned to hide the flush of his face. If anything, it only made Sine look at him more. “You’re kinda cute when you think you’re being slick, y’know.”
Seth exhaled sharply and turned away. “Come on. These always tire me out,” he lied. As much as he hoped Sine wouldn’t catch on, he knew it was a losing battle.
“Aah, so Mister Destruction needs a nap?”
“Shut-” His words were cut short by his own stammering. Sine cackled behind him. He sighed and made his way back inside.
“C’mon, you know you love me.” 
They both stopped mid-step. The daytime betrayed both of their expressions. They simply stared at each other in silence.
“I…” The words caught in Seth’s throat. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew what he needed to say.
I think…
No.
I know…
He put his hand back into Sine’s. His gaze softened. Perhaps not everything had to be said.
It didn’t matter how dark it had gotten; Seth could still see one thing clearly. His work could never compare to the art that had stood beside him.
#undertronic#undertronic fic#fanfiction#Disclaimer: Do NOT stare at solar eclipses lol. One is the god of eclipses so I figure he'd have some sort of immunity#(I didn't want to completely logic this entire fic because if I did it simply would not have been written)#And I don't think the other has retinas. So. Unless you are a god or a skeleton. Use proper eclipse glasses or otherwise safe methods.#solar eclipse#Edit: More disclaimers because I feel like it!#I. I don't know how to write these characters very well. Most of the sources I can find for manner of speech and behaviour are quite old#And extrapolating from newer comments or implications is a touch difficult#Or in other words. This could be wildly out of character and I would have no idea.#AND while I'm already yapping here. I genuinely just picked up this ship from sifting through old archives and found there was an interest#I have no idea what their dynamic would be. I think the only source I have is a comment in a Discord about them both being ancient beings#And therefore could make good crackship material. Take that with a grain of salt.#This was also spurred on by one (1) comment in the Discord that threw me into a writing frenzy in which I stood up and suffered every-#Minecraft status effect all at once. It was worth it#I also almost posted this to my dragon blog lol. Yes this is PEAK dragon content right here.#Okay I'm done rambling. Thank you. Obligatory Reblogs > Likes because this hellsite is a hellsite#Not my best fic but not my worst fic. I am relatively content with this existing
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app-oh-sigh-oh-pieces · 4 months
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Lmfao I tried to write about how I've been feeling this past year but Tumblr froze up and I lost everything I wrote
And frankly I'm in a bad enough place right now that I'm not up for writing it all again
What a thing to happen when one of the exact problems is that I'm terrified that people are going to grow tired of me or distance themselves from me if I talk about my feelings 🙃
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luvdisease · 2 months
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BG3 reactions to "would you still love me if i was a worm?"
DISCLAIMER: i am not a writing blog do not follow me expecting more hcs you'll be greatly disappointment by the fictional men thirst. this is so fucking stupid. characters included: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Karlach, Shadowheart
Astarion
"No."
"But what if-"
"I'd crush you under my heel."
damn.
alright.
Gale
"A polymorph spell? that should wear off soon enough."
"but if it didn't?"
"I haven't heard of a spell that strong, is there something I should be concerned about?"
Please. just answer the question man.
he starts fucking infodumping about polymorphing.
you cant even remember the question when he's done.
Halsin
"of course :)))"
what did u expect. man loves nature
"I'd set you free though, i cant bar you from living your true freedom and life as a worm, you belong in the dirt."
you assure him you would way rather stay with him as you live your worm life
He'd narrate the scenery around you... worms are blind
wants to give you a little pat on your worm head but worms are so small and he is.. so so big :(
Karlach
"Why are you a worm :( who did this"
its a HYPOTHETICAL
goes on about how you would travel with her as a worm by her side...
she would keep ur lil worm body warm
"where would you carry me?"
in front of her heart :) worms need a lot of heat
wait that's...
you're currently trying to figure out how to curse yourself immediately.
Shadowheart
"What kind of question is that?"
thoroughly confused.
after much persistence you wring an answer out of her
Yes, she'd keep you in a... jar or something.
hopefully she remembers to poke airholes.
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cupofjeon · 7 days
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Lion’s Den (Preview)
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↳ Summary: You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved. By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den. 
↳ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer!Fem!Reader
↳ Genre: Yandere | ↳ Type of fic: Oneshot
↳ Disclaimer: The story below the cut is fictitious only. It does not depict Jungkook or any of the other idols mentioned and featured in this story in real life. The author does not condone this type of behavior. Minors do not interact with this story. Ageless blogs will be blocked on the presumption that you are underaged.
↳ Warnings: Blackmailing, threats, noncon, slapping, marking, hair pulling, manipulation, forced marriage, control over women’s reproductive health, physical assault, violence, abusive behavior and relationship. 
↳ Teaser Word Count: 782
↳ Taglist: Open (To be added, you must have age in your bio or anywhere in your blog that is easily seen. Otherwise, you will not be tagged and will be blocked.) Please comment below or send author an ask off anon.
NOW POSTED.
━━ “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is.”
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You look at the time on your computer, 12:17 am. You haven’t even realized it’s past midnight already. Jungkook slides the box towards you then flicks the can of soft drink on the side, a trick he swore would make the drink less carbonated, before opening it and placing it beside the dish. How can he act so sweet one minute and then be cruel the next? You take the chopstick from his hand, pulling them apart, and shift on your seat as you begin to eat. 
“What are you working on?” he asks as he prepares his own meal. 
You chew and swallow your food before answering him. “Song for Enha.” 
“Yeah? What is it called?” 
“Bills,” you tell him. He glances at you, giving you a knowing look. You understand what the look means. You sigh. “It’s a song about a break up, but it’s not about our break up.”
“Why? You didn’t want to write one ‘cos you know you’ll come back to me anyway?” Jungkook asks with a chuckle. 
“No, I didn’t write any songs about our break up because it wasn’t worth it,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders as you continue eating. Instinctively, you glance at him, and you see Jungkook looking at you with his jaw tensed. You hit a nerve—you hit more than just a nerve, but perhaps his entire ego, and nothing is more fragile than a man’s ego. 
A part of you swells in pride knowing you’ve hurt his ego, but the other part of you mentally scolds yourself for saying what you said. Jungkook is a ticking time bomb; the last thing you want is for him to explode. “Sorry,” you say, sucking your teeth. “Forget I said anything. Let’s just continue eating, please.” 
“How did you go from loving me to hating me, Y/N? I’ve done nothing but love you. Why did you suddenly leave me?” Jungkook asks, his tone indicating he’s hurt which takes you aback. 
Jungkook—the man who forced himself upon you last night, who slapped you, who threatened to kill your brother if you don’t oblige to his requests and blackmailed you—hurt? It gives you a whiplash just thinking about it. He’s fucking delusional, you conclude. 
“Jungkook, you changed,” you say. “You—,”
“Just because someone you love changed doesn’t mean you leave them,” he hisses. 
“You leave when they’ve changed for the worst, Jungkook, and you changed for the worst. You became controlling,” your breathing is ragged, but you swallow the lump in your throat as you continue your tirade. 
“At first, I let it go because I loved you and I’ve known you since we were fifteen and I know how possessive you can be, but I told myself it was just because you’ve always been insecure even when you had no reason to. Then, it escalated. Suddenly, you always wanted to check my phone, always wanting to be here at my studio or wherever I am when I’m working because you’re paranoid about the people I work with, dictating what I should and shouldn’t wear, and you disrespected my boundaries when I clearly established them with you especially in sex. You no longer see me as your girlfriend or even as Y/N, your friend before being your girlfriend; you treated me like I’m an object, like I’m your property.” 
“I did all those for you, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw. Those people you work with—that fucking Jang Yijeong and Kim Woosung—it’s clear they want you. They practically eye fuck you every time you’re in the goddamn room! You’re my girlfriend. It’s only natural that I do everything to let them know you’re mine,” Jungkook reasons, shaking his head at your tirade. 
“They’re my co-workers, Jungkook! Yijeong, he’s like family to me now much like how Yoongi is because they taught me everything I know about songwriting and producing. And Woosung? He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have male friends.” 
“You’re so naive, baby, it frustrates me so much,” he scoffs, poking his cheek with his tongue as he narrows his gaze at you. 
“Tell me there’s a part of you that understands where I’m coming from,” you desperately say, but you’re met with the coldness of his eyes. You shut your eyes tightly. “Jungkook, I broke up with you because I finally saw you for who you truly are. You don’t love me; you want to own me.”
“I told you I’ll show you how devoted I am to you,” Jungkook quips, chuckling to himself. You shiver at his lighthearted disposition. “I love you, Y/N. It’s only right that I get to you all to myself because I’m all yours.” 
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━━ “You wrap around me and you give me life.” END
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erika-xero · 1 year
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Beware, the long post incoming. Pro tips for artists who work on commissions!
DISCLAIMER: I do not have, like, a HUGE online following and can’t be called a popular or viral artist, but I do have some experience and I’ve been working as a freelance artist for more that five years, so I could share a few tips on how to work with clients with my fellow artists. Scroll down for the short summary!
First of all, you always need to have your Terms of Service written down in a document that is accessible for your potential clients. And by terms of service I don’t mean a set of rules like “I don’t draw mecha, anthro and N/S/F/W”. There is much more into it, than you may think when you first start drawing commissions.
You’ll need to understand how copyright law/author’s rights in your country works (for example, US copyright or Russian author’s rights, be sure to check your local resources). There are a bunch of sites where you can actually read some legal documents (. I know it might be boring, but TRUST me, you WILL need this knowledge if you choose this career path.
Russia, for example, is plagued with shops selling anime merchandise. The merchandise is usually printed somewhere in the basement of the shop and the shop owners literally rip off other people’s intellectual property. If the artist ask them to remove their IP from the shop the owners usually try to fool them with lies about how the IP works. They will tell you, that you have to register copyright on every single drawing and if you don’t do it anyone can reproduce and sell your artwork. In reality, copyright law in most countries simply doesn’t work this way. Once you create an original work and fix it, take a photograph, write a song or blog entry, paint an artwork, you already are the author and the owner. Yes, there are certain procedures of copyright registration, which is only a step to enhance the protection, but you become an author the very moment you create a piece of art, and no one have a right to take your creation from you. Knowing your rights is essential.
Some of your commissioners may try to scam you too, but most of them might simply not be aware of how copyright law works. I literally had people asking me questions whether or not the character I am commissioned to draw becomes MY intellectual property. I literally had to convince the person (who was legit scared, since the commissioned piece was going to be a first image of his character ever created) otherwise. If you have an idea of the character written down or fixed in any other form such as a collage, a sketch, or a concept art -- the character is yours. Artist may have rights to the image they create, but not the character itself. Your potential commissioner must acknowledge that their characters, settings and etc. is still theirs, while your artwork is yours, if your contract doesn’t state otherwise. You can sell the property rights on your artwork to your commissioner if you want, but it is unnecessary for non-commercial commissions. And I strongly advice you to distinguish the non-commercial commissions from commercial ones and set the different pricing for them. Even if you sell ownership of your artwork to your commissioner, you can not sell the authorship. You will always remain an author of your artwork, thus you still have all the author’s rights stated in the legal documents.
Another thing that is absolutely necessary to be stated in your terms of service is information whether (and when) it is possible to get a refund from you. You absolutely have to write it down: no. refunds. for finished. artworks.
You have already invested time and effort to finish an artwork. The job is done and the money is yours. I’ve heard stories of commissioners demanding refund a few months later after the commission was finished and approved by the commissioners, because, quote “I do not want it anymore”. Commissioning an artist doesn’t work this way, artwork is not an item purchased on shein or aliexpress that can be sent back to the seller. It is not a mass production. It is a unique piece of art. Example: My friend once drew a non-commercial commission for a client who tried to use it commercially later on. She contacted him and reminded of the Terms of Service he agreed with, offering him to pay a fee for commercializing the piece instead of taking him to the court or starting a drama. He declined and suddenly demanded a full refund for that commission via Paypal services. My friend contacted the supports and showed them the entire correspondence with that client. She also stated that the invoice he paid included a link to the Terms and Service he had to agree with if he pays that invoid. The money were returned to her.
However, partial refund can be possible at the certain stage of work. For example, the sketch is done, but something goes horribly wrong. Either the client appeared to be a toxic person, or an artist does not have a required skill to finish the job. I suggest you keep the money for the sketch, but refund the rest of the sum. It might be 50/50 like I suggested to my clients before (when I still could work with Paypal), but it really depends on your choise. I suggest not doing a full refund though for many reasons: not only you make yourself vulnerable, but you also might normalize a practice harmful to other artists this way.
The main reason why full refund when the sketch/line-art are done must not be an option is that some clients may commission other artists with lower prices to finish the job. This brings us to the next important point: you absolutely need to forbid your clients from altering, coloring or overpainting your creation or commission other artists to do so. This also protects your artwork from being cropped, changed with Instagram filters or even being edited into a N/S/F/W image. Speaking of which. If you create adult content, you absolutely need to state that to request such a commission, your commissioner must at least be 18/21 years old (depending on your country). And as for the SFW commissions you also have to state that if someone underage commissions an artwork from you it is automatically supposed that they have a parental concern.
There is also a popular way to scam artist via some payment systems, called I-did-not-receive-a-package. Most of the payment systems automatically suppose that you sell goods which have to be physically delivered via postal services. This is why it is important to state (both in the Terms of Service and the payment invoice itself) that what commissioner is about to receive is a digital good.
And the last, but not the least: don’t forget about alterations and changes the commissioner might want to make on the way. Some people do not understand how difficult it may be to make a major change in the artwork when it is almost finished. Always let your commissioners know that all the major changes are only acceptable at early stages: sketch, line-art, basic coloring. Later on, it is only possible to make the minor ones. I prefer to give my commissioner’s this info in private emails along with the WIPs I send, but you can totally state it in your Terms of Service. I do not limit the changes to five or three per commission, but I really do appreciate it when I get all the necessary feedback in time.
To sum this post up, the info essential for your Terms of Service doc is:
- The information on whether or not your commissions are commercial or non-commercial. If they are non-commercial, is there a way to commercialize them? At what cost?
- The information on author’s and commissioner’s rights;
- The information on whether (and when) refunds are possible;
- The prohibition of coloring, cropping, overpainting and other alterations;
- The information on whether or not you provide the commissioner with some physical goods or with digital goods only;
- Don’t forget about your commissioner’s age! If you work with client who is a minor, a parental consern is required. And no n/s/f/w for underage people!
- You may also want to include that you can refuse to work on the commission without explanation in case you encounter a toxic client or feel like it might be some sort of scam.
- I also strongly suggest you work with prepay, either full or 50% of total sum, it usually scares off the scammers. I take my prepay after me and my client agree on a rough doodle of an overall composition.
- I also include the black list of the themes: everyting offensive imaginable (sexism, homophobia, transfobia, racism, for N/S/F/W artists it also might be some certain fetishes and etc). Keep your reputation clean!
- Ban N/F/T and blacklist the commissioners who turn your artworks into them anywayss, don’t be shy <3
These are the things that are absolutely necessary but are so rarely seen in artists’ Terms of Service that it makes me sad. Some of these tips really helped me to avoid scams and misunderstandings. I really hope it helps you all!
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norrizzandpia · 9 months
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Masterlist 1
- Disclaimer! All of these have happy endings, I am not one for sad endings lol
- More works on Masterlist 2 which you can find the link to on the pinned post on my blog
Lando Norris:
Reckless Driving
When McLaren thinks its funny to put Y/n in a sports-car with her boyfriend and a set of question cards. Spoiler Alert: She doesn’t!
The Infamous Stream
When Max streams and the chat goes wild for Lando and Y/n’s sappy love.
I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You Pt. 2
What if love isn’t enough? What if the obstacles are too great and all the whirlwind romance ends up being is the right person, but wrong time?
Call Your Mom
Y/n’s struggle with mental health and the journey, accompanied by Lando and her best friends, she goes through in order to get better.
London Boy
In which she falls in love with a London boy as an American girl.
Flowers
After the Silverstone Grand Prix, Y/n wants to do something nice for her successful boyfriend, but she quickly finds out her kind gesture means a lot more to him than what she expected.
Caught
When living with their best friends proves to be the worst decision Lando and Y/n ever made.
Used Pt. 2
A bet can do more harm than good.
She Doesn’t Know Who I Am Pt. 2
Lando’s in New York and no one knows who he is. Especially the girl who asks for his number.
Enemies To Lovers, Ya Know?
They’ve always hated each other. Always. Right?
Gentle
In which Y/n’s past is a little haunted, but Lando knows exactly how to make her understand that she is safe with him.
Spa
When a reality check causes Y/n to worry about him coming home to her every day for the rest of their lives.
Try On! (Smut Warning)
She thought his opinion on some new lingerie would be good. Spoiler alert, it was good. Really good.
The Softest Launch
He tried to be a secret, but the eyes never lie.
It’s the High Altitude. (Smut Warning)
They’ve missed each other. What can they say?
The Video Pt. 2
Y/n and Lando’s club dancing sends the F1 world into a frenzy.
Lando’s Biggest Fangirl Pt. 2 Pt. 3
His girlfriend. Lando’s biggest fangirl is his girlfriend.
I’m Sorry To Go
She’s not quite ready to have him leave just yet.
What Are You Doing Up?
She can’t go to sleep when he isn’t there.
I Can’t Go a Second Without You
She was gone for five hours, but apparently that’s too long in Lando’s book.
Happy Birthday
It’s his favorite person’s birthday.
Don’t Wake Up Yet (Smut Warning)
When Lando gets home from a race weekend without his girlfriend, he just can’t wait.
Lacy Pt. 2 (Oscar Ending) Pt. 2 (Lando Ending)
To the song “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo, that should be enough summarized.
I Love Your Body
It was the mirrors.
Boyfriend Lando
Where the chat goes crazy for Boyfriend Lando.
Longing Glances and Whispered Confessions Pt. 2
In which, in the darkness of the night, Lando Norris loves Y/n Fewtrell, only for the pain of their secrecy to plague them in the daylight.
Oscar Piastri:
*I also have another Oscar imagine under the Lando section. It is titled Lacy and has an Oscar ending, something you will see if you look at it. It is the second part to an imagine focused on reader loving Lando when he loves someone else. The Oscar ending was incredibly popular and one of my favorites to write! Hope you stumble across this and find that Lacy (Oscar’s Ending)*
Let Me Love You
A friendship where the lines are incredibly blurred is risky, but it’s even more risky to fall in love with a girl who won’t let anyone in romantically.
Caught
Y/n’s and Oscar’s fun in his room takes a surprising, awkward turn very quickly.
- The Vacation (Smut Warning)
They just keep getting caught. (Could be read as a Caught Part 2 or a standalone)
This Is About Oscar?! Pt. 2 Pt. 3
Y/n’s new song exposes a side of Oscar no one knew about.
I’ll Be The Fred To Your Daphne
He’ll always be the Fred to her Daphne, the peanut butter to her pb and j, and the salt to her pepper.
Best Friends To Benefits To Lovers
They’ve been dating for months after being the closest of friends for years. The question is, however, did they start out as best friends with benefits?
The Quiet Night and the Loud Morning (Smut Warning)
It was bound to happen at some point.
Hurt Me Once Pt. 2
In which they just miss the childhood best friends to lovers trope.
She Wears The Pants, Right?
Nobody saw it coming. Nobody.
Let Me Help
She’s got a math test the next day and unfortunately, she can’t do math. However, her boyfriend can.
Loving You in the Shadows Pt. 2
They’ve been together for years. Well, they haven’t been together for years. Yet.
Cover It Up
That one piece of clothing was covering so much and Oscar just had to take it off.
She’s Missed You
In which Nicole and Chris welcome Oscar’s longtime girlfriend to live with them after he leaves, only to not tell him and have to update him when he shows up for a surprise visit.
Charles Leclerc:
Edits
When Carlos exposes Y/n watching edits of her boyfriend on Instagram. She’s incredibly embarrassed, but after an interesting conversation with the man himself, should she really be?
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Good Saturday, y’all.
Topic of today’s rant: PEOPLE PRINTING AND SELLING FANFIC & GENERAL FANDOM ETIQUETTE
Profiting from fanfic will ruin it for everyone.
I want all of you who gift us your stories to be safe from lawsuits and beware that your content might be stolen.
Not to be on a soapbox and preaching to the choir but here are.
There are many authors pulling their work off AO3 because people acting on bad faith are printing and binding fics to sell on etsy thus infringing copyright laws. Fanfic has always been a grey area and we are allowed to exist in this grey area because we are not profiting from it. The minute money is exchanged, every party involved is breaking the law.
Why am I complaining about this yet again? Because we might be deprived from enjoying fanfic with the freedom we currently have because the fanfic authors will fear getting sued. If third parties are stealing our work and selling it, publishers and studios won’t care to know who sold it. It is your handle (thus IP address) on the sold fanfic. Because, get this, they are doing downloads straight from ao3 with your usernames.
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Manacled is being pulled from ao3 because the author will publish it as a book. People are putting the book at risk by selling printed versions of it on Etsy.
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I believe many of us who fall on the 20 years of reading fanfic side rather than on the 20 year olds reading fanfic will remember the Anne Rice days. These are not fully over because her son is carrying on the legacy of suing everyone who writes fanfic of her work. And if I may say, she didn’t invent vampires and should’ve taken many seats. I digress.
I am not sure of the levels of awareness within this community and to what extent it can affect all of us. TikTok is a massive contributor to this problem (as it is to many other problems. Again, I digress) since booktok and the binding folks discovered ao3.
You might think, I only post on tumblr so my content is safe. Well, they are finding their way here too. They cringe because tumblr is for old people but they still make their way here with their bad manners and pillaging behaviour.
I want all of you who gift your stories to be safe, lawsuit free, not lose your content and not be afraid of sharing.
I wish I had a definitive solution to this problem but I can only think of small actions:
report the etsy accounts selling fanfic/fanfic commissions,
report the TikTok accounts selling binding for fanfic work,
go back to the days of putting disclaimers on your notes that you don’t own the characters and you are not profiting from the story.
Tagging some authors* here for visibility so you can cascade to more people. Absolutely no pressure tag.
@theywhowriteandknowthings @tightjeansjavi @diversemediums @goodwithcheese @nerdieforpedro @fhatbhabie @undercoverpena @thelightsandtheroses @ezrasbirdie @notjustjavierpena @javierpena-inatacvest @freshlyrage @5oh5 @wardenparker @endlessthxxghts @creedslove @sp00kymulderr @secretelephanttattoo @gnpwdrnwhiskey @whatsnewalycat @pedrostylez @thetriumphantpanda @toointojoelmiller @dancingtotuyo @agentjackdaniels @ladamedusoif @lotrefcp @wildemaven @musings-of-a-rose @justagalwhowrites @morallyinept @pedropascalsx @criticallyacclaimedstranger @pennyserenade @kteague @astoryisaloveaffair @moralesispunk @linzels-blog @metalnecklace
*I can remove the tag if you are not comfortable with being associated with this post.
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hourofpink · 8 months
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Fantasize
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—dancing the "fantasize trend" in front of bada
pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
note: reader is said to be energetic and has a sunshine personality
warnings: this is my first time writing, so it might be a bit cringy :')
disclaimer: everything on this blog is COMPLETELY FICTIONAL and for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. any/all idols mentioned are depicted in a fictional manner. i am not associated with any/all idols and/or entertainment companies/brand names mentioned.
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being in dance competition is tiring. well, for everyone else it is, but not for you.
as one of the younger contestants in street woman fighter, you have a lot of energy which showed a lot during dance battles and made you win a couple of times.
you lived off of the adrenaline and excitement that dance gave you.
so naturally, being on break was very boring. (you were thankful for the rest, but still)
everyone on set pretty much knows how easily bored you can get and that you like to film tiktoks on break.
and how you tried to let everyone in set to join you.
your next victim? the one and only Bada Lee.
"unnie, stand here." you guided bada a bit back from where the camera is so you wouldn't hit her when you danced.
bada let you grab her arm and guide her gently as she stared at your adorable and energetic self.
she secretly had a soft spot for you. i mean, who wouldn't? but still.
and whenever you had a dance battle? it's like you got her in a trance whenever you dance. all her eyes, focus, and attention were on you.
"what do i do?" she asked you as you checked the angle on your phone if it was right.
"nothing," you turned your head and smiled at her. "just stand there and watch me." you winked teasingly, before starting the tiktok.
as the timer counted down, you readied yourself, excited just how bada would react.
the song "fantasize" by ariana grande started playing and your body immediately reacted, your eyes and aura changing as if a switch was flipped.
bada's eyes widened and her jaw slacked, eyes glued onto your figure.
the way you moved, your hips, your waist, your legs, your body was captivating bada in every way.
and it didn't help that your outfit was very skin-tight.
she couldn't stop herself from blushing and smiling so widely when you faced her and winked.
as the song ends, again, as if a switch was flipped, you were back to being your sunshine self, smiling gleefully at bada.
"thank you, bada unnie." you bowed slightly at bada before getting your phone back from the floor.
"it's no problem." bada smiled back, before approaching you and leaning close.
"mind doing that for me?" she whispered teasingly. "in private?"
you felt your eyes widen. was it just you or did the room suddenly got hot all of a sudden?
bada laughing lightly, ruffling your hair. "i'll be looking forward to your next dance." she winked before walking away.
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aethon-recs · 1 year
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Tomarrymort Starter Pack: 10 Recs for Getting Started in Tomarrymort
I've compiled a list of 10 medium to longfic recs that I think represent a great on-ramp to the Tomarrymort ship, as inspired by @sitp-recs’ Drarry for Beginners rec list. These are the fics that I would use to on-board people to the ship — gorgeous writing, superb characterization, and just as enjoyable on the first read as the 20th reread. 
As always, I am stunned by the talent in this ship! I tried to pick a good mix of different themes/tropes/settings, with a focus on elements that make for a good introductory work: the characters are recognizable; the setting skews more recognizable; both characters in the ship are a meaningful part of the story; the ship is central to the story; and the fics are for the most part complete (or updated within the last year). 
(Standard rec list disclaimers apply: please mind all tags and warnings on AO3 before reading; this blog abides by the age-old fandom axiom of don’t like; don’t read; recs are in alphabetical order by title.)
This is Part 1 of a 3-part series — I also have an Intermediate reading list and Advanced reading list coming up for readers who have been with the ship for a longer time.
For now, please enjoy these 1.3 million words of absolutely brilliant Tomarrymort reads that I hope will keep you hooked until the very last word:
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Tomarrymort Starter Pack Recs
A Dangerous Game by @cybrid (E, 284k, WIP)
Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 5 Premise: If Tom’s diary horcrux gains a body at the end of Harry’s 5th year (instead of his 2nd), and then promptly kidnaps Harry and holds him captive over the summer. Lots of smut ensues. Why I rec it: The characterization is truly stunning — Tom Riddle is undoubtedly a psychopath — manipulative, thrill-seeking, kind of an irredeemable shithead — but he’s also dazzlingly charming when he chooses to be, someone whose presence Harry quickly grows addicted to. Their relationship can get incredibly toxic and fucked-up at times, but Harry has top-notch instincts and can hold his own against Tom. The plot is absolutely gripping, with the threat of (the main) Voldemort, who has set his sights on reclaiming his wayward horcrux, looming in the background. 
A Future Without a Face by @dividawrites (E, 115k, complete)
Setting: Time-Travel (1940s) Premise: If Harry travels back in time to Tom’s 5th year at Hogwarts, and Tom becomes obsessed with the new transfer student and wants nothing more than to possess him every way. Why I rec it: A 1940s time travel fic told entirely from Tom Riddle POV! Divida absolutely nails psychopath Tom — how he quickly gets singlemindedly focused on Harry, how the idea of possessing Harry consumes him, how he has no compunctions about doing completely fucked-up and destructive things to achieve his goals. There is so much tension between them from the start, so there’s not much of a wait to see some hot Harry & Tom action — and the conflict and tension only continues to build and build in dramatic fashion throughout the rest of the fic.
Either must die at the hand of the other by @metalomagnetic (E, 260k, complete)
Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Voldemort survives the Battle of Hogwarts and is initially kept prisoner in Azkaban, until Harry takes him into Grimmauld Place under house arrest. Why I rec it: This fic is an incredible exploration of Voldemort at his most terrifying. Even if he starts off the fic with his magic temporarily blocked, he is no less powerful without his magic. The force of his personality is powerful enough for him to chip away at Harry’s initial resistance — @metalomagnetic manages to write one of the most charismatic, brilliantly manipulative, and psychologically devastating versions of Voldemort I’ve ever read. Harry ends up in a good place by the end of the fic, but the journey to get there is a roller-coaster of emotions that have permanently imprinted onto my soul.
In Somno Veritas by ladyoflilacs and @lordansketil (M, 158k, complete)
Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Harry starts appearing in Voldemort’s nightly dreams during Book 6, and Voldemort becomes obsessed with Harry after realizing he’s his horcrux. Why I rec it: This is one of the most unique fics I’ve ever read in this ship! Every scene is told in alternating POV between Harry’s POV and Voldemort’s POV, so you get to see how every scene unfolds from both of their perspectives. Voldemort is so intense and just as terrible as he is in canon, so his character is not at all sugarcoated, and Harry has so much compassion and heart and manages to fall in love with Voldemort anyway. The writing style is gorgeous, with richly detailed and emotionally-laden prose. Also, one thing that pleasantly surprised me is how funny their banter is! There were definitely a number of times where I laughed out loud in the middle of an otherwise really intense scene. Bonus content: also comes with a lovely sequel that made me melt.
Inevitabilities by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (T, 103k, complete)
Setting: Same-Age AU Premise: If Harry and Tom attend Hogwarts together and go traveling around the world after they graduate. A betrayal leads to their break-up, but after many years, Harry returns to find Tom in Britain, and the two of them are drawn back together again. Why I rec it: An excellent same-age AU with unhinged dark Harry and just-as-unhinged Tom. Their relationship starts out quite dark and twisted and unhealthy — and only devolves from there. The fic ends with the two of them as equals — utterly devoted to each other — but in an incredibly fucked-up way: “He loves Tom like a forest fire; wild and all-consuming, he wants to devour Tom, to claim him, to mark him, break him.” Isn’t that absolutely breathtaking?
love is touching souls (surely you touched mine) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (M, 34k, complete)
Setting: Time-Travel (1940s) Premise: If Harry gets thrown back into the mid-1940s and meets Tom Riddle as a young man just graduated from Hogwarts working at Borgin and Burkes. Why I rec it: When Harry accidentally travels back in time and chances upon Tom Riddle as a fresh graduate, he realizes this is his chance to make a difference. While Harry is only in the past for a brief interlude, he leaves enough of an impression to change the trajectory of Tom’s life. The dynamic between Harry and Tom is rife with tension and witty dialogue, and the story is set during Christmastime, which lends a very festive and heartwarming atmosphere for falling in love with each other.
No Glory by @obsidianpen (E, 254k, WIP)
Setting: Voldemort Wins AU  Premise: If Voldemort figures out Harry is his horcrux when Harry surrenders in the Forbidden Forest, and decides to keep Harry instead of killing him.  Why I rec it: This fic showcases the absolute, terrifying genius side of Voldemort, in a universe where he wins the war and captures Harry at the end of book 7. I am stunned at how skillfully @obsidianpen portrays Voldemort as a brilliant political strategist — the courtroom scene where he manipulates the story and the audience so well stands out as a top 10 fanfic moment in my mind. Harry and Voldemort’s relationship is chilling from the very start, and grows even more unhealthy as Voldemort gets addicted to Harry’s touch due to the presence of the horcrux, but Harry later learns to turn that to his advantage.
The Fire, Burning by @parsimmony (E, 35k, complete)
Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Voldemort discovers Harry is his horcrux after Book 6, and kidnaps him to keep him captive by his side in his bed, inside of a lovely greenhouse setting full of friendly snakes on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Why I rec it: The prose!! I am swooning over the prose! Harry is Voldemort’s captive in this fic, but he is so much more than that — and the emotions that gradually blossom between them have so much richness and depth and are utterly moving that I’m still drowning in the depths of intimacy that were portrayed. Their relationship unfolds in such a gorgeous and unrushed way, and the setting is so unique too — a lush and overgrown greenhouse that’s exploding with exotic plants and friendly snakes around every corner that imbues the fic with a very romantic, dreamy quality.
the pleasure, the privilege by @being-luminous (M, 20k, complete)
Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Voldemort is doused with Amortentia keyed to Harry, and starts sending Harry bizarre and gruesome courting gifts, like the bodies of the Dursleys.  Why I rec it: Breathtaking prose! Voldemort somehow ends up more terrifying when he’s trying to woo Harry than when he’s trying to kill him. Every single sentence had me on the edge of my seat, as Voldemort’s ‘gifts’ become more elaborate and devastatingly dramatic, until Harry basically has no choice but to respond to his overtures. The ending is incredibly clever in how it parallels certain plot elements of book 6, with an added Harrymort twist. 
The Untouchable by @treacleteacups (M, 75k, complete)
Setting: Canon Rewrite (Books 1-7) Premise: If Harry starts out his first year a little bit more suspicious and a little less wide-eyed and guileless, and subsequently gets sorted into Slytherin. He has many of the same encounters with Voldemort along the way as he does in canon, but his interactions with Voldemort will end up leading him down quite a different path. Why I rec it: A snappy, fast-paced full canon rewrite that still manages to fit in all the essential Tomarrymort plot points, between Horcruxes and Hallows and the major events of books 1-7, in a compact 75k words that doesn’t at all feel rushed. It’s a delightful journey following Harry’s character evolution from an overlooked, peculiar child who relies on wishy-washy wish magic to a confident (and still endearingly peculiar) young man who can challenge and hold his own against the great Lord Voldemort. Voldemort’s obsession with Harry deepens with every encounter that they have, as he finds ways to continually insinuate himself in Harry’s life and his mind and his dreams.
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changbunnies · 5 months
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All About You, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader
♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), age gap, angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot
♡ Word Count: 7.5k
♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.
♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine, and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), petnames (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, submissive reader, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie
♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal, historical au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap lmao you can also read the story on my ao3 here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times- that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically. 
You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check- and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option. So he lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “Please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason. 
And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it. 
You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you- he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability. 
So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching your description, and as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do. He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere. 
It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself. It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?
He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries. 
Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe. But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days. 
As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you- there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere. 
By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.” 
Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power. “Princess-” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp. 
He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage. Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are. 
But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error- one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach. You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night. 
“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour. He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.” 
Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together. “There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room. 
You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised. He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully. 
Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before? You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to. 
You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now. 
“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.” Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.” “Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”
Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death. He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you. 
Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel- because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it? You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter- you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl. 
But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.
And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats. You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on. 
Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose- he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe. You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper. 
When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning. He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want, but you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.
But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily. 
“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him, that you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion no matter what anyone says. 
“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand. 
You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs. It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho would do if he were you, anyways. 
“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?” Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You.. what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard, a man who is your fathers age at that. 
But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest. “Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation. “Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now? 
Minho was the ideal man, at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you. He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance? 
Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help. 
In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil, you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame. You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly, matching one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other. 
But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.” 
You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control. 
Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin. In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish. 
But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this- to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side. “You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?” 
He looks you over carefully, grip on the armrests tightening. Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable? 
“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.” “So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated. 
You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs, and Minho is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need- all for him.
Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin. He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. 
“Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..” He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy. 
“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips. He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies. 
He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows. Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck. 
You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle. 
“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip. If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin.
He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too. His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body. 
He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing. You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing. 
“Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something. You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating. 
One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly. 
Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your juices. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect. You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head. “Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?” 
You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”
Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers. It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women, women who knew what they were doing, but really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. 
Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked- you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you. 
He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question. Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget. 
Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet. Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes. 
He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation. “You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology. 
“Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss. His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin. 
He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all.
“M-Minho, I’m- I’m gonna-” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence. He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.
Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.” All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel. 
You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips. 
You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face, your juices gushing around his fingers. He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had. 
Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes. You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers. 
“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head; you’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down. He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit.
“Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.” Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.
The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.
He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly. “Feels good, I just.. I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.
There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.
“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess-” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious. “Minho, I-” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.
He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop. You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please-” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.
The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.
Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble. But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you, not that you mind in the slightest; you’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.
He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you. He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.
You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release. He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust.
A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours. Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him, his arms wrapped around you snuggly and keeping you upright against his chest. 
You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek. He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.
“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow. “Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.
“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks. In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.
It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably? He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be.
You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least. “Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it. 
There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same. He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided- so if you make your future husband, your father, the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.
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