CLC Sorn explaining how she pitched ideas for their Hobgoblin comeback using a PowerPoint presentation.
*When other groups are given the privilege to give input and direction for a comeback, they typically use vision boards or PPT presentations as well. It takes a whole lot of convincing from the company to allow the artists to use their ideas, so I thought you might like to see what is shown. (male idols spend a lot of time asking for certain haircuts lmao)
During the presentation she explained in detail the type of vibe they wanted to go for in order to successfully pull-off a dramatic concept change from cute to girl crush and enlisted Hyunas help to make it all happen. She explained how hard it is to get approval from a company for this type of freedom (especially as a rookie) and mentioned how her presentation only had a few slides, while Hyunas comeback presentation had over 100 slides. “I saw that and I was like, ‘Oh my god! Damn! We have to work hard. We have to worker harder.”
I’m nervous about making a whole post about this but I’m gonna. I’m just gonna come out and say it.
If you claim that asexual and/or aromantic people are straight, you are perpetuating heteronormative thought.
Now, I know that’s a bold statement but please listen to my thought process behind it. I don’t mean any disrespect. I just want to put into words why I think categorizing persons lacking some kind of attraction as “straight” doesn’t work.
The assumption in our society usually is that someone is 1. comfortable with their body in relationship to physical sex 2. Has a socially acceptable gender that both fits into one of two boxes and lines up with what was perceived at birth and 3. Is sexually, aesthetically, and romantically only attracted to persons in that other box, and not their own, and they have that attraction. They are attracted to people in that other gender category.
This is what we would call heteronormative thought. The assumption that a person you meet is cisgender and straight. But we all know that not everyone is like that. And the whole “straight until proven gay” mentality our society has is not a good way to go about human interaction.
There is more than one thing wrong with the “straight until proven gay” mentality. First of all, it is harmful to gay people. But not just that. It is especially harmful to all of those outside of the “gay” and “straight” boxes. Even as society is becoming more accepting of non heterosexual cisgender persons, it still wants to place them in a binary. Either gay or straight. As usual, persons attracted to more than one gender, persons whose aesthetic, romantic, and sexual attractions do not necessarily line up with each other, and persons lacking one, several, or all types of attractions are left out in the cold.
Saying asexual and aromantic people are straight is like trying to fit a square box into a round hole. It just doesn’t work. And that applies to calling them gay too. That’s like trying to fit a square box into a triangular hole. Its not a circle, but its still not a square.
I think we’re all stuck in a heteronormative mindset in one way or the other. Society has done its darndest to make sure we are. Many gay people see someone that does not fit into their triangular hole, so they assume that persons that do not fit must fit in the circular one. If its not black its white. If its not a rainbow its gray scale. If its not gay its straight.
But see, those of us that lack one or more attractions don’t fit on the neat little gradient you’ve set up. Life doesn’t just slide from red to blue with shades of purple in between, and it is most certainly not just red and blue. There are those of us that are green, yellow, orange, brown, black, or white or any color in between and if you talk in terms of just gay and straight you are leaving out a huge portion of the rainbow.
Life can’t be talked about in terms of this or that. If you get that, then poc who are not of African decent are left out of race discussions, persons who don’t have a binary gender are left out of feminist discussions, and those of us who have an attraction to more than one gender or a lack of attraction are left out of the queer community.
If the LGBTQIA+ community is for everyone that does not fit into the category of persons who are okay with their assigned gender and feel sexual and romantic attraction towards persons of the other binary gender and only people of that other binary gender then well,
Make room for the non triangular boxes. Expect more colors than just blue. If you want to fight heteronormative thought, then accept that asexual and aromantic people are not straight. They are lacking attraction or only feel attraction rarely or in specific circumstances, and there is a whole different life experience attached to that, and it doesn’t line up with a straight one.
I personally think that part of fighting heteronormativity is fighting the assumption that everyone experiences attraction. Not everyone does, and if you do not experience any attraction in one or both categories, then you can’t be attracted to the opposite sex and/or gender both sexually and romantically, and therefore can’t be straight. Assuming you have a binary gender in the first place, which many of us don’t.
So, in conclusion, just because someone isn’t gay doesn’t automatically mean they are straight, and part of fighting heteronormativity is fighting the binary ideas sexuality has fallen into. Thank you for your time.
prompt: you have a nightmare, and steve comforts you
warnings: pining!!!! so much pining!!! also, a brief description of a gory nightmare, fluff mixed with angst
author’s note: i fucking love steve harrington, goodnight
His fingers grasp the edge of the
low roof. He hauls himself up, slumping on the inclined plane. He wiggles into
a sitting position, then slowly stands up. Crouching, he walks towards the
window and knocks on it.
He frowns, knocking again, a bit
louder, but quiet enough for only the room to hear.
A muffled sob answers him.
Alarmed, he peeks through the
window. The sight makes his heart clench. He knocks harder and faster.
“(y/n)!” He whispers,
gaining your attention. He smiles weakly as you sit up from your
bed, sniffling, eyes puffy and red. You reluctantly slide the window
open, and greet him with a blank stare.
“What are you doing here,
Harrington?” You mumble, hand wiping your nose.
“Babe…” he sighs,
sadness coating his gaze. “Can I come in?”
You don’t say anything, which makes
him nervous because he desperately wants to know what’s wrong, to hold you, to
tell you it’s okay, to help you. When you sidestep, gesturing inside, he
exhales in relief. So, he jumps in, a bit too eagerly, and staggers slightly
before he straightens up. A small smile breaks your lips due to his clumsiness,
which gives him a bit of hope.
“Like I said,” he gives
you a goofy grin, “a ninja.”
You roll your eyes, but the little
smile widens just a bit. He notices.
“Babe…” He hooks his
pinky with yours, tugging it slightly, respecting your boundaries, albeit he
did barge into your room, but you had agreed with the visit earlier on the day,
so he’s here and he’s worried. “What’s wrong?”
You sigh. You roughly pull your hand
away, inciting a hurt look to cross his features. He starts to panic.
What happened? Why are you crying? Why are you upset? Is it because of school?
Is it because of him?
Then, you crash into him, clutching
at his shirt, burying your face into his chest. The whirls of
questions dwindle as he wraps his arms around you, his hand snaking into your
hair, the other rubbing your back gently. He hums, fighting his own tears as he
holds you. He holds you as you sob into his blue shirt. He holds you.
Both of you stay like that for a
while. He sways a bit, kissing your head now and then, waiting for you to let
it all out.
And you do.
You disentangle yourself a bit,
still pressed against him, but distant enough to glance upwards, meeting his
eyes. His hands leave your hair and your back to cup your face. His thumbs
gently wipe away the tears as you sniffle.
You chuckle nervously, “I must
look like shit."
He leans in, placing his forehead
against yours. "No. You’re beautiful.”
You frown, because this all feels
like he’s treading the line. The fine line of friendship that both of you
had accommodated to for years, had complied with for ages. But
lately, it had been thinning with the late nights that
he'd initiate either calling or visiting you, the stolen glances that
you both sometimes caught each other giving, the flirty exchanges and nicknames
that send you both blushing madly, and the stares into each other’s eyes that
neither of you could drop. Now, as your hands are placed on his toned chest, as
his hands cup your cheeks, as your forehead presses against his, as his lips
stand inches way from yours, the line is too thin to see.
His cheeks burn, because he’s so
close to you, something he has longed to be for so long. He has yearned to know
what it would feel like to press his lips against yours, no matter the
situation. The taste of your lips against his. The mix of your breath with his.
The feel of your hands tugging his hair. The sound of your moans filling his
ears. He’s imagined it over and over again and he’s so close to you. He’s so
close to you.
But, you’re crying. He can’t act on
what he wants. It’s not what you need, so it’s not what he gives you. Instead,
he steps back, dropping his hands to grasp yours. And the line is seen again.
You drag him into the bed, sitting
with him. He looks at you as he waits.
“You don’t need to talk about
it if you don’t want to, y'kno.” He nudges you, trying to lighten the
mood, making you more comfortable. Which works.
“I had a bad dream.”
“Oh.” He runs a hand
through his hair, because he knows.
“We were all surrounded.”
Your voice is terribly low that if it wasn’t for the fact that he was close, he
might had missed it. Your stare is concentrated in front of you, and he can’t
make out what you’re looking at. “The demodogs attacked us, started…eating us, and everyone was there, the kids were there, you were there. And we were…we were
He sees some tears forming once
again, and he quickly embraces you once again. “Hey…hey,” he
manages to say through his clamped throat, “we’re safe now, y'kno that, you’re safe.”
You nod, burying your face on the
crook of his neck, sighing in relief, drinking in the warmth of his skin and
the aroma of his cologne. “Maybe.”
“No, we are.”
His fingers gently lift your chin. “I got my bat, you got your hammer,
Nancy and Hopper got their guns, and, most importantly, Lucas got his
sling-shot." You giggle, and he joins in too. "Because, we
are definitely goners without his sling-shot.”
“Huge goners.” You grin,
and he can’t help but mimic it. “Umm…” Your gaze drops,
fingers start fiddling nervously, and he knows you well enough to know you’re
embarrassed about something. “Can you stay with me tonight?”
“Yes.” He says, too
eagerly, too rapidly, but he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t care. All he cares
about is to be close to you, to comfort you in anyway possible.
“Like…i-in the bed…”
“In the bed?” He deadpans,
his cheeks turning a darker shade of red. “With you?”
“Only i-if y-you don’t uh don’t
mind…” You glance at him nervously with a red face.
“I don’t.” He grins,
willing the blushing away. He stands up to shrug off his shoes and jacket while
you move to get under the covers and make space for him.
“If you need some sweatpants to
change in,” you say, eying the rough material of his jeans, “I can
“Or I could sleep without
‘em.” He winks.
You laugh, shrugging. “Fine by
“Wait, what?” He gapes at
“I mean,” you say,
“you’re wearing something underneath, no?”
He can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Well, y-yeah.” He says, completely flustered at the thought of
sleeping semi-naked with you, and you being completely fine with it, and the
line thins and thins.
He takes off his pants, highly aware
that you’re staring. He feels the kick
of insecurities on the back of his mind. But, when he sees how you’re
already snuggled in bed and looking at him lazily, there’s not a single trace
of any insecurity. He immediately gets under the covers, already
feeling his shoulder brush against yours, sending shivers down his spine.
“You’re cold?” you yawn,
drawing him closer to you. He smiles widely and positions you in his arms, your
back pressed against his chest, his chin resting on your head. He’s hyper aware
that both of your bodies are so close together, and he isn’t wearing any pants
and you aren’t wearing any bra, and it’s so intimate. It’s just so intimate. He
can’t imagine how else bliss could feel.
“This is perfect,” he
mumbles into your hair. You hum in response, snuggling close.
“Safe,” you whisper,
“you make me feel safe.”
He doesn’t know what to say. All he
knows is, as he falls asleep with you in his arms, that he can’t deal with that fine line.
I finish unpacking the last box before I’m officially moved in to my new home in Riverdale. I glance around my room, grab the last empty boxes and bounce down the stairs greeting my parents as they unpack kitchen boxes.
“This is the last of them,” I breath out placing the empty boxes on the kitchen bench. My stomach grumbles, I haven’t eaten much since the flight if you count an apple and a few crackers as food.
“Honey why don’t you go get some dinner from the diner we drove past? I heard they do excellent burgers!”
I shrug my shoulders.
“Sure, I’ll just get my coat.”
I return to my room and pull on my jacket before grabbing some cash and head toward the diner we saw earlier. A bright red neon sign comes into vision as I edge closer “Pop's”. I wearily enter and see how packed the place is. I patiently wait in line till it’s my time to order. After ordering and giving the nice older man the money, he glances back to the kitchen hand scrambling to get orders out.
“Sorry miss it may be a longer wait,“ I shake my head.
“Oh, no, that’s fine, I’ll just sit and wait,” he smiles greatfully as I scan the diner spotting a nearly empty booth with two girls sitting opposite each other with two milkshakes. I take a deep breath and walk towards the table. Laughter is filling the air. I stop at the head of the table. Their conversation goes quiet.
“Oh, hey, can we help you?” The blonde spoke first smiling up at me.
“Hello, my names (Y/N), I was just wondering if I could sit? I just ordered and they said it’d be awhile and, well, you look the most friendly,“ I go red glancing down at my hands.
“Of course you can, I’m Betty and this is Veronica,” She greets me glancing at the raven haired girl.
“You must be new around here” she speaks and I sit down.
“Guilty, am I that obvious?” I smile and she shakes her head.
“Your accent is more of a giveaway,” I nod and mentally face palm.
“Oh, of course, I didn’t think about that. My family and I just moved here from London.” They nod.
“Wow, that’s so cool-” Veronica was cut short as the bell rang indicating there was more customers. The both glance back to see whoever was entering. I glance at my phone messaging my father to tell him I’d be longer than anticipated.
“Woah, who’s the new girl?” I look up and see two boys standing at the top of our booth, a brown headed boy & the other with red hair, both being extremely easy on the eyes.
“(Y/N),” I barely whisper clearing my throats before trying again. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” They both smile slipping into the booth.
“Archie Andrews,” the red head speaks first, sliding in next to me flashing his bright white smile.
I glance to the other boy as he climbs in next to Veronica. He laughs to himself.
“Uh, yeah, I’m Jughead Jones The Third.“ I giggle.
“Jughead Jones?” I question. His gaze snaps to mine, a smile etching onto his face.
“Just when I thought my name would never sound nice, you lil brit make me change my mind.“ I blush and glance at him through my lashes
“Take that as a compliment?” I say unsure.
“With an accent like that I could listen to you talk all day,” we stare for awhile until we’re interrupted by our friends’ laughter.
“Woah, Juggie’s got a crush on the new girl,“ Veronica squeaks squeezing his hand and bumping up against him. He rolls his eyes and adjusts his beanie picking at the plate of fries in front of him trying to avoid the gaze of his giddy friends.
“I-” I was cut short when the man from the counter wonders over with my take away bag.
“Sorry for the wait- I see you’ve encounted the scary locals.” I laugh, nodding.
“Thank you,” I smile at him, taking the bag and standing from the booth. “I hope to see you again, enjoy,” and with that he turns and walks towards the counter again.
“Well, I better get going, my parents are waiting for me to get back with tea,” I smile sheepishly as Jughead glances at me soaking up every word. They all seem disappointed, but I remind them that I’ll see them the next day at my first day of school.
“Goodbye,” I smile waving as I turn around to head to the door.
“Goodbye love,” I hear jughead yell trying his best at an English accent. I giggle and blow him a kiss before pushing on the door open and walking towards home.
It was not the way he expected it to go down. Which, honestly, was rather impressive because in the past two years of their partnership Chat Noir must have plotted out at least 50 different possible scenarios in which he finally heard the coveted words.
They had been joking around, legs swinging off the edge of of the parapet and laughing, enjoying the warm breeze.
“Come on, you can’t tell me that your birthday is this week and not let me get you a present,” Chat whined, “what sort of partner would I be.”
“The last thing I need for my birthday is a dead rat on my doorstep,” Ladybug teased as she once again failed to do a Jacob’s ladder with her Yo-yo. She scowled down at her weapon and Chat had to bite back a laugh. There was something incredibly endearing about the fact that for all the truly amazing things she had done with the magical item, she couldn’t seem to get the hang of a simple trick.
“Ah, but you know that I won’t be giving you that, because I don’t know where your doorway is,” Chat grinned, “so your argument against my giving you a gift is invalid.”
She rolled her eyes, but he could see her fighting back a smile.
“Come on,” he whispered, dropping his chin onto her shoulder, “I’ll get you anything you want.”
“Anything?” she asked, twisting her head to look at him and causing their noses to brush together.
“Cross my heart and swear not to die, because I already promised you I wouldn’t after what happened last month.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twisting into the disapproving pout that had become one of his favorite expressions. Not that he had a lack of those where she was concerned. Still, this particular look of fond annoyance was easily in the top 20.
“Please?” he cajoled, stretching out the vowels like a hopeful child asking for a new toy.
She looked away and Chat smiled. If she couldn’t meet his eyes it meant she was caving.
“If Mayor Bourgeois is allowed to give you a statue, the least I should be allowed to do is get you a birthday present,” he whispered, trying not to fist pump as he saw her bite her lower lip. Victory was almost assured at this point. “Please?” he said again.
“Anything?” she asked hesitantly.
“Anything,” he assured her in the same quiet voice while internally he screamed in triumph. In fact he would probably be annoying Plagg later with his obligatory victory dance.
Ladybug said nothing, continuing to stare out into the night, but Chat had learned patience was the key to these sorts of moods, so he simply waited, his head continuing to lull against her shoulder.
“Yes My Lady?”
“You love me right?”
He felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew she didn’t mean it the way he wanted her to. It was a friendly statement, a joking lead-in to a request that usually meant she was insecure about something. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, but he still couldn’t help but be affected by the words.
“Of course, to the end of my nine lives and beyond,” he said, his tone light despite the rapid pounding of his heart.
“And you won’t make fun of me?” she said, with just enough of a tremor in her voice to belie her playful smile.
“Never. Cat’s honor.”
She took a deep breath and reached her hand up to pull at the collar of her suit.
“What are you doing?” Chat squawked his face turning beet red as her fingers slide beneath the fabric and down towards her collar bone.
She gave him a bemused smirk as she pulled out a carefully folded note, much to Chat’s simultaneous relief and dismay.
“Never figured you for a prude,” she said tapping him on the nose with the paper.
“What is so important that you felt the need to carry it around under your suit?” he grumbled, then instantly regretted his outburst when her shoulders hunched slightly. “Is it a picture of me? Admit it you pull it out to stare at it when I am not around.” He gave her his most salacious smirk and she gave him a playful shove, the momentary flash of doubt replaced with amusement. He mentally high fived himself on the nice save. Another thing to brag to Plagg about when they got home.
“No. It’s a letter.”
“I assume you are either going to elaborate, or you have decided to pursue a lifelong dream of becoming the world’s greatest calligrapher.”
“Never mind, you never did appreciate my sense of humor.”
“It’s a letter for my crush.”
His heart sank.
“It’s stupid,” she said hurriedly, “it’s not even signed. I don’t know what is wrong with me that I can’t even bring myself to give him an anonymous love letter. I stupidly thought that maybe I would get lucky and could run in to him as Ladybug and maybe then I could…” she trailed off with a miserable laugh that broke his heart far worse than her infatuation with someone else.
“It’s horrible,” she cried, scooting back just enough so that she could look at him, “seriously, you have no idea how pathetic I have been.”
“Come on it can’t be that bad.”
“For months I couldn’t even speak a complete sentence in front of him,” she wailed, “much less tell him how I feel!”
“That’s totally normal.”
“Oh, it get’s better. Because I wasn’t just content to make a fool of myself. No then I compensated by getting worse! My room is plastered with pictures of him. I have one framed on my nightstand!”
“You are hardly the first person alive to go overboard about a crush,” Chat said thinking of his own hoard of fangirls that had only increased as he edged closer to adulthood.”
“I wrote down his schedule on my calendar. In detail! Every time I learned something new, up it would go in big swirly cursive with little hearts and everything.”
“OK, that’s admittedly a little weirder,” Chat winced, although he was somewhat amused at the image of her dotting little hearts all over the place, “still it could be-”
“I stole his phone!”
“OK yeah, you’re crazy.”
“I told you. Instead of just confessing to him like a normal person I turned into,” she gestured helplessly at herself, “this.”
“But at least you admit it,” he said kindly. “and if need be I can get you the name of an excellent therapist.”
She gave him a weak smile, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug.
“I thought if I could just give him this letter, even if he didn’t know it was from me, then I could… I donnow, not move on exactly but, get better, maybe?”
She fiddled with the piece of paper in her hand and somehow, seeing her like this- relaxed and vulnerable, and just a little bit insane- made him love her even more.
Maybe they would never amount to anything. Maybe she would end up with this mystery crush, or the next one. But in that moment Chat knew that he would never regret loving this girl. He would be happy to stay by her side in whatever way she needed him. That would be enough.
“Do you want me to give it to him for you?” he asked, any regret he might have felt vanishing at the hopeful look that sprang to her eyes.
“Of course Bugaboo. Although, if this turns into some sort of wacky rom-com where he thinks that I am the secret admirer and starts chasing after my dazzling good looks and unparalleled charm, you are not allowed to make it my fault.”
“Ok,” she laughed, leaning her head back against his shoulder with a sigh that he could swear reverberated in his very soul.
“So who am I delivering this to anyways?” he asked a little shakily carefully plucking the letter from her and slipping into into the pocket of his suit. “Who is this dashing rogue who has turned you into a literal lovesick schoolgirl?”
“Adrien Agreste,” she confessed with a blush. “I’m in love with Adrien Agreste.”
It was definitely not how he had expected things to go down. Never in a million years would he have dreamed up this scenario when he finally heard the coveted words- his name on her tongue, her voice saying that she loved him, HIM, of all people.
It was not what he expected- but damn if it still wasn’t the greatest moment in his life.
Look who’s back to her 4 word prompts! On to the next one! (Not taking any new ones just finishing up the ones I have.
The atmosphere in the little shower cubicle was almost suffocating, the sexual tension between you and Harry occupying most of the space and apparently consuming most of the air. He pressed himself even more close to you, if that was possible, his whole front flat against yours as you could feel his leaking cock against your thigh all wet and drippy almost as much as you were.
He leaned in his breath fanning against your ear as his hand brushed your hair off your face, the soft puffs of air from his mouth leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake.
“Why don't you go and lie down on your back on the bed for me darling? Alex has something to get before he joins you, okay?”
He looks at you on a way that you understand what he said was not a suggestion or a question by any chance but an order. It was quite an occurrence in your relationship where Harry controlled the pace of your sexual encounters, being the more dominant one.
You looked at him all doe eyes with your bottom lip tucked behind your teeth as you gave him a nod before walking off to do what he had asked of you. If there was one thing that turned you on more than Harry calling himself daddy, it was him referring to himself in third person when he’s in a dominant mood.
He finds himself browsing through the array of silk ties he owned most of which you had bought for him on various special occasions, sometimes cos you just wanted to, when he walks into the closet. He can hear the rustling of the sheets signalling that you obeyed his orders were not in a defiant mood tonight which honestly made him quite happy because defiance means denying himself and you the pleasure of indulging in each others’ pleasure and he didn’t think he’d like that tonight. He is definitely not in the mood of forgoing the chance to pleasure himself and soaking in all the warmth and slickness your pretty cunt had to offer.
He finally picks a red coloured silk tie before wrapping it around his four fingers as he walks back into the bedroom still completely naked, his cock now more erect than it had ever been and he’s bursting at the seams for an orgasm.
“ Oh baby girl, you’re so ready for me aren’t you? All warm and wet? You’re soaking onto the sheets darling, I’d rather you soak my cock than anything.”
You look at him with innocence in your eyes than he knows better than to believe, it’s deceiving. You give a meek nod, all cognition of words and sentences escaping your brain in this pleasure clouded state that Harry has you in.
“Use your words darling. Don’t want to get punished tonight, do we?”
“N-no Harry, please don’t.“
He sighed before grabbing your chin with his hand, “Now sweetheart, what did I ask you to call me? It’s not my name that you just used, is it?”
“No it’s not.”
“No what? Tell me my name.”
“No.. no Al-Alex.”
“Good girl. I knew you were my good girl. My best girl. Now I’m gonna tie this around your wrist okay? And I want you to behave. I’m not going to spank you or anything. Just going to tie you up, alright?”
Knowing better than to just use your gestures this time, you give a nod before repeating an affirmation along with his “name”.
He ties up your hands to the bed post giving it a quick tug to check their tightness and asking you if they hurt much, which you assure him they don’t.
“Alex is gonna take care of you, okay? Gonna fuck yeh real good. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
He slowly slides his length up and down your slit collecting all the wetness that had pooled in the time that you had to wait for him to fuck you like you know he could. You sigh at the little jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, your hole already clenching all the possibilities of what could happen. He slowly thrusts into your pussy both of you sighing at the jolts of relief coursing through your bodies of finally attaining the feeling you’ve denied yourselves for a while. His hips move against yours in smooth calculated thrusts, your lower half arched off the mattress for him to reach deeper in you, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours along with his shafts sliding into your soaking hole filling the room.
You feel his face pull back from the crook of your neck where he’s been sponging wet kisses and licking and sucking the taut skin all smooth and very inviting for him. His eyes are closed, lips slightly parted with brows furrowed together at the tight knot that it steadily growing in his stomach, causing the skin to clench and his thrusts to switch to a rhythm less pace. You press your lips to his berry red ones, tongue sliding against his bottom lip as his mouth encloses around yours moving a slow motion that opposed his hips, your teeth biting into his plush lower lip as he lets out a groan that could only be described as fucked out.
“Oh my god.. Alex baby that feels so good. Just like that. You’re doing so well”, you moan when you feel his head nestled against your G-spot constantly stroking it in an unsteady pace. You could feel your stomach start to clench as your vision blackened, your back arching off the bed, chest meeting his front as your sensitive and puffed up nipples rub against his skin. His hand slide behind your back knowing you cannot keep up longer, the silk tie straining against your wrists that were tied to the bed post.
“Christ yeh feel so good darling. All tight and warm for Alex, aren’t you? My best girl loves to please me so much.”
His hand that isn’t wrapped around you reaches down for him to thumb at your clothes, breath stuttering as the high you would take some time starting coming closer and closer. He can feel your pussy clenching around his length, the tight fit bringing him closer to his edge.
"Gonna cum for me, aren’t you baby girl? Be a good girl and cum all over my cock. I know you can do it.“ His thumb increasing it’s swiping against your nub as you get closer and closer to the edge, your breath stuttering as you gasp for air, eyes closed bad your mouth open as moans are let out. The ties hurt against your wrist but you don’t feel a thing or at least don’t care in that moment as you can feel “Alex” release ropes of cum inside your tight cunt before falling against your chest, your back hitting the mattress again with a soft “thud”.
The room feels suffocating as the smell of sex, his cologne and your shampoo cloud the atmosphere. Harry’s eyes are closed as his lets out soft puffs of air against your breasts, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle.
"Harry?“ You tread the waters lightly testing to see if he’s out of the mood you had set for yourselves during the course of the evening.
"Can you untie me? My wrists hurt a little. I think I pulled too hard.”
He lifts his head from your chest shuffling to remove the knots and tossing them aside before grabbing your wrists giving them soft kisses as his eyes bore into yours, the jade irises shining with love for you.
“Can I ask you a question?” He utters with a glint in his eye that lets you know that it’s nowhere near innocent and is probably either a sexual innuendo or something filthy.
“Sure what is it?”
“Was this better than the wet dream you had of me?” He giggled at your wide eyed expression, clearly taken aback by his question.
I hope you liked it! I had loads of fun writing it! Thank you to @oh-styles and @trulymadlysydney for being my vent buddies, love you both! Much love to all of you for the support you’ve shown me. Means the world,xx!