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#I had found my preferred Craft
gonzodangerfeels · 7 days
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Comes back with fries.
Looks like grimace comes with this happy meal.
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chipistrate · 1 year
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You see that theory going around on Twitter about Gregory being innocent in the main ending?
@/TheJ_Pro on there has a pretty detailed thread about it if you haven't heard it.
YEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEAH I SAW!! MY SON!!! MY SON IS INNOCENT!!!!
Honestly I think he's valid in his actions whether he did it or not considering the situation he was in at that moment- but after hearing the evidence of him not doing it, even outside of that thread, I'm definitely leaning more on the side that it wasn't him.
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iknityounot · 10 months
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(Long post, sorry y'all)
A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.
In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.
She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.
Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.
After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:
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DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.
Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!
So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.
Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.
At the end of August, the blanket was done!
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I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)
She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 
She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.
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And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.
Five stars, absolutely worth it!
(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)
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bunnys-kisses · 24 days
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Hi bunny I was wondering if I could get a Boston cream pie with coffee and mocha coffee with dark!lando maybe? Thank youuu
bakery menu
want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love receiving all kinds of requests! thank you to everyone who had sent something! i hope you enjoy this, especially the one who submitted it! thank you all and enjoy! <3
boston cream pie ("yeah, i'll use protection.") + coffee (rivals au) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by lando norris (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, dark-ish fic, dark!lando, breeding kink, rivals au, mercedes driver!reader, lying, no protection, mentions of pregnancy
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you were a level headed driver, you came down that track like lightning and even when things went south, you kept your cool. you never got snippy on the radio and even when you loss the race, you dealt with it with total grace.
you were a good sport, congratulatory towards whoever was on the podium. as a result you were a darling on the track, especially to the media. the first woman in decades to race with the big leagues. you were sweet as honey to everyone, or so it seemed.
everyone except when you went toe-to-toe with lando off the track. your hands dug into the front of his t-shirt as you said to him, "how dare you, norris."
"aw, what's wrong, princess? did you break a nail?" lando didn't make it any better, leering at you as you held onto him.
this was a common back and forth. the snapping of jaws between you two. lando looked at you with a healthy smirk while you got right into his face. oscar piastri once described it as watching you two fuck without the 'fun' part. he also suggested that you two found other ways to take all the stress out.
"no. you played dirty today, norris. you know, mclaren's strategy isn't playing mad max fury road all over the track!" your hands held deeper into the shirt. you swore you could feel his quickening heartbeat.
lando made a face at you and said, "then if you can't handle the heat... get off the track... i bet you'd do lovely in craft services... or maybe you could be my assistant." he licked his top lip, "my logo all over your pretty tits, but you know i like my cum on them better."
your cheeks went hot as you pulled him closer to you, your foreheads almost touching as you glared at him. "you are a sick fuck, lando."
lando got his arms around you behind and gave your ass cheek a squeeze, "and yet... you can't get enough of me."
you both heard a loud groan from behind you, you both looked over and saw oscar standing there with his hands in his pockets. he took a hand out and scratched the back of his head. this wasn't the first he had caught you, he was used to it at this point.
"uh.. hey. the press are going to be in here soon. so unless you want to make national news. i suggest you." he pointed to you, "get back to your team and we." he pointed to lando, "have to do an interview."
you pulled away and said to oscar, "thank you, mate." before you 'accidentally' stepped on lando's foot as you headed out of the room. that night you'd get a text message with a location and time. and the message 'wear something orange', which you never complied with. orange made you feel less like a sex symbol and more like the fruit.
but a short black dress would work just fine for the evening.
you were a normal sighting at the hotels that mclaren were staying at. while you tried to cover up that it was all purely platonic, they knew. your team knew, lando's team knew. teams that weren't involved knew. you were certain even teams not in formula one knew. but, yet you went to the hotel room and knocked three times in quick succession.
lando opened the door and got a good look at you. he said, "i asked for orange."
you got past him, "i prefer mercedes black. feel like it highlights me better." you said as you got inside the hotel room, "bed? couch? don't tell me you want to do it on the floor."
he chuckled and closed the door before he came to you. he was dressed casually. sweatpants and a black t-shirt that highlighted his toned frame. he followed you as you sat on the edge of the bed to get your heels off.
he sat beside you, up against you with his large hand on your soft thigh. he kissed at your neck before you even had the chance to get undressed. he sighed against your scent.
"beautiful as always."
you took him by the jaw and looked him in the eyes. it was a dangerous glance. even without the make-up wore off the track, you looked beyond beautiful. lando once said that they should make you the trophy, come out in something skimpy. that earned a death glare from you before lando made it up to you with kisses along your thighs.
"is it a crime now to state the obvious? i thought you were all about telling the truth." he said as you held him. his words were silenced when you pulled him in for a tender kiss. he made a soft noise against your lips as you invaded his space. it felt good, it felt right.
like two magnets come together. opposites that pulled together. his hands were soon on your shoulders before you pushed him back into the bed. when he pulled away, he said, "let me on top. i want to see that face." then started to undress himself with you beside him on the bed.
"yeah, no. you're just going to make fun of me. remember you said once when i orgasm i look like i ate a lemon. it's doggy for me tonight."
he chuckled, "whatever the princess wants." he beamed at you.
you looked at him. a knowing look you've given a million times. with you soon naked, your breasts capturing his attention fully that he barely noticed the expression on your face. you coughed into your fist and looked at him.
he looked back at you before he said "yeah, i'll use protection." you two may had been playing a risky game over the last few weeks. using the pull-out method was dumb, but it wasn't like you two carried condoms around.
in all fairness lando could've been a gentleman and bought some. but, he lied to you about having them. his mind was somewhere else. lando norris wanted you pregnant. keep you off the track, but still in his life. be easier to get a hold on you when your hips got a little softer and soon you were taking care of a norris baby.
he was lucky that tonight you wanted doggy style as you wiggled your ass to him enticingly which made his heart rate skip. you were a real siren's call, he could imagine you on the rocky shores of england singing your siren's song. but usually in those tales, the siren doesn't get pregnant so... maybe it was a little different.
"got the condom, norris?" you asked as you pressed your chest against the soft bed. you held over the pillow under your head and pressed your cheek against it.
"yes." he said, "i got it." his cock was bare and the tip was leaking. he stroked it a few times and admired your naked body in front of him. he shifted a little bit on the bed before he nudged his cock up against your slick entrance. it was a familiar feeling, he had become hooked on you like an itch he couldn't scratch unless he was balls deep inside of you. and he thankfully was able to scratch that itch as he sank into you.
your back arched and your short nails dug into the pillow under your head as your back was curved more as he invaded your space further. you didn't even notice that he wasn't wearing a condom. you moaned as he started to thrust up against you. it felt really good, you hated to admit it. but sex with lando was always good and it made your brain sometimes go blank in the rush of pleasure as he moved against you.
he was good in the bedroom, if only he was as good on the track. then maybe mclaren would have their winner. but that snarky comment died on your tongue as you felt his cock prod some of your softest areas.
lando was on cloud nine, he always was when he got to fuck you. it was like a jolt to the system that made his nerves feel alive. but not in the way that anxiety did. he wanted to jump your bones and keep his thick cock inside of your sweet pussy. he wanted to cream in it so badly, he wanted to make a big mess of it.
make sure that no other man could have you.
maybe his breeding kink was running strong after today's race. he could feel it all the way in his balls as he rutted against you. you felt like a dream as he moved. he wanted you pregnant, you'd make the most perfect mother to his children. he came from a big family so he was hoping for at least four kids with you. he'd make sure that he'd get a nice place for all of you to live in. you'd be a nice little family.
his little rival becoming his wife. the thought excited him as he rutted against you. his heart beated wildly in his chest, his lips found the back of your neck, which caused your to moan and tense up around him. that felt good, it only encouraged him to keep doing it. feeling your slick hole clench around him.
"you feel amazing. so good around me." he pushed into your harder, "fuckin' hell. he swallowed, he felt himself starting to lose a bit of control as he really worked your body. it felt so good, especially without a condom. the rubber stopped him from feeling all of his future wife. that was your new name while he was in a state of heighten euphoria.
you came quickly with your back arched. your groaned into the covers and clawed down the soft comforter. you felt everything kind of go blank for a moment. the only thing that left your mouth was his name. first name and last name. and how you said it made him move even further. and when pleasure struck him, he finished inside the back of your soaked cunt.
he then trailed his blunt nails down your back, hoping to leave deep red lines come morning. a little reminder of him as if his cum stuck to your cunt wasn't enough. but your over stimulated body made you jerk a little bit and moan a little louder into the bed. you looked good face down ass up.
lando slapped your ass before he pulled out and watched your hips drop to the bed. you were out for now, but lando was certain that with a few strokes of his fingers and his mouth on your breasts, he could at least get another round out of you. even as you laid panting on the bed.
after all, he had a baby to make with his little rival.
-
you held that trophy over your head. you could've yelled in excitement. but instead you grinned. you were almost moved to tears, but you held them back. even in the face of victory, you had to show strength. a history maker as the cameras flashed.
you were beyond lucky. the blood tests from the recent evaluation hadn't come back yet before the last race of the season. you knew what formula one didn't know. you were pregnant.
nothing noticeable yet. everything ailment was pinned of the anxiety of performing well for the final race of the season. you held the world champion high over your head. in the coming weeks the media storm around your pregnancy will come to light.
you felt on top of the world as your national anthem played, hand over your heart as you felt the soar in your pulse. the almost imaginary weight in your middle was replaced with the heft of the world champion title over your head as you held the trophy once more for photos. you knew that your career would be halted if not ended in the next few days.
you knew lando was watching, not because he had to. but, because he wanted to. your little rivalry had halted when you disclosed to him in quiet whispers that you were pregnant. and lando whispered promises of a wedding during the off season. something quiet, with family.
for now on the shiny stage, you were a champion. in a way you won the battle. but with the norris baby in your womb, lando won the war. <3
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tbaluver · 2 months
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HIIIIII! first of all I wanna thank you for your service to the entirety of the LADS fandom omg😭🫶🫶🫶 local treasure for real. Uhhhh now for my request- If it’s alright with you, is it okie to write HCs for the boys if they were vampires? LMK IF IT ISN’T ALR W YOU😭😭😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t okie TT…..
The Love And DeepSpace Men As Vampires
warnings/ context: a lot of mention of blood, fluff and a lot of intimacy, maybe ooc
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader
a/n: hihi anonnie <3 !! omg you're so sweet your message literally made my day!! (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡ thank you for requesting and i hope you like this !! i might make a second part of this headcanon bc i honestly liked writing this au!!
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
Xavier's swordsmanship reached new heights. His speed, strength, and reflexes were enhanced beyond human capabilities, allowing him to execute complex maneuvers with ease and precision. Over the centuries, he continued to practice and perfect his craft, adapting his techniques to the evolving eras and styles of combat. In the present day, Xavier is a highly respected Deepspace Hunter. He is known for his remarkable physical abilities and his combat skills, honed over centuries have proven invaluable in dangerous situations, especially involving violent Wanderers or high-risk scenario's.
You first met at the abandoned warehouse, where your mission brought you together. As you worked side by side, investigating cases and solving crimes, your professional partnership and friendship gradually deepened into a close, intimate relationship.
During a high stake mission, he was gravely injured, and you rushed to his side, eager to tend his wounds. Despite your urgent efforts, he gently pushed you away, his eyes filled with a mixture and resolve. He had been preparing for this moment for a long time, searching for the right words and the right timing. This man has even looked it up on the internet on how to tell you but found no help whatsoever. When he explained it all, it all made sense.
Your boyfriend who would sleep a lot during the day, you haven't seen your boyfriend eat much whenever you went on dates let alone cook. But usually when he cooks he would burn it. And a lot of his missions are usually at night.
He consistently turned down your offers to feed him. However, it became increasingly evident that his strength was waning. Over the past few weeks, his supply of blood bags had dwindled to almost nothing, leaving him visibly weakened and frail. One evening, as he struggled to maintain his composure, you could no longer just stand by and watch. You confronted him insisting that he accepts your offer despite his protests.
He preferred to bite you on the neck, from behind, pressing you close to his chest. He slipped his arm around your waist, his touch light and comforting. His breath, warm and steady, grazes the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver slightly with a mix of excitement and vulnerability.
He lowered his head, his fangs emerging with a practiced grace. The initial contact was tender, a gentle brush of his lips against your skin, followed by a delicate lick. His fangs, sharp yet controlled, made a brief precise puncture. The sting was momentary, quickly overshadowed by the soothing warmth that followed. The richness of your blood filled him with a profound sense of satisfaction. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, anchoring him as he savored the precious essence flowing between the them. When he pulls his fangs out, his tongue reacquaints itself with the flavor of your skin as his palm cradles the back of your head affectionately.
You've also become more accustomed to sleeping at the same time with him. You found out from him that vampires find comfort sleeping close to someone they trust and love.
His protective nature for you is also heightened. He's always vigilant about your safety and goes to great lengths to shield you from harm.
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Zayne:
Zayne has adapted to his new existence. He carefully crafted a persona as a surgeon. As the world evolved, so did Zayne. He embraced modern advancements in medical technology and his practice is renowned for it's extraordinary success rates, often performing miracles that seemed beyond the reach of contemporary medicine.
Despite his vampire nature, he sticks to a strict ethical code. He uses his immortality to help those in need, driven by a belief that his eternal life should be used to alleviate suffering and advance medical knowledge. To the public, he is a genius who performs miracles, but no one knows the truth until you came along in his life.
I think he would also love arts. As a vampire that's been alive for centuries, he would love to talk to you about art, literature, or show you around the museums that interest him. His extended lifespans gives him the opportunity to witness and absorb various cultural movements over the centuries so he'd gladly talk to you about it all.
He was alive centuries ago so his manners and chivalry are always timeless with you. He holds the door open, pulls out chairs, and showers you with tradional gestures of affection.
Truth is, he is terrified of hurting you and will genuinely avoid you if it means to keep you safe. However, his bloodlust continues to get worst with his tender feelings towards you as you continue coming back for a patient checkup or anytime you two would be together. His mind racing with a jumble of anxious thoughts, 'What if you feared him after telling you?', 'What if he becomes addicted and sucks you dry?' The idea of losing you absolutely drove him mad.
When it came to eventually telling you, you weren't afraid of him, which made him relax. You both talked about your boundaries and your safety.
You wouldn't be able to tell from his stoic expression but he would actually be nervous. He usually drank blood from blood bags and poured into a cup. It was always bland, something to just fill his hunger. But when you offered your own, he was terrified of what your blood would to him.
When you finally convinced him, he would make sure you were okay as he pushed your hair out of the way. He preferred to bite you on the neck from the front, pressing you close to his chest. Your hand would clench around his shirt, tensing up due to the idea of it hurting.
He would be slow, gentle, and place soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he runs his hands along your waist. As his nose brushed against your neck, he drew in your irresistible scent with a deep, lingering breath. He positions his fangs at your throat and pressed down.
You gasp at the sudden, sharp sting of pain, and he immediately begins to comfort you, his fingers gently tracing soothing circles on your hip to ease the discomfort. Eventually, you would become relaxed in his embrace as you wait for him to finish feeding. His entire body would protest, but he'd resist the urge to pull away, relishing each drop of your blood with a palpable hunger. He'd worry he'd taken too much.
When he finally drew back he would lick the wound and press soft kisses on it. He saw how drained you looked, but your reassurance puts his fears to rest. Gently, he'd help you settle into a seat, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder before he went to fetch some snacks to help you regain your strength back.
After weeks of feeding, his hunger was finally full. He no longer needed to feed with any regularity; he could comfortably go a week or even a month without feeding. He doesn't drink from you unless it's absolutely necessary, sometimes to the point where he's so weak he couldn't even hold his pen anymore.
However if the time came again and you let him feed on you, he would have everything prepared. He'd have bandages and wraps nearby in case of any mishaps, along with snacks and drinks to help you recover afterward. The feeding would take place in your shared resting chamber, ensuring you could relax afterwards.
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Rafayel:
As a vampire, Rafayel's artistic abilities were magnified to extraordinary levels. His senses became heightened, allowing him to perceive the subtlest nuances of color, texture, and lighting. His immortality provides him with endless time to refine his craft, and explore new techniques and styles that pushes the boundaries of traditional painting. His paintings are considered a masterpiece that capture interest of many people all over the world.
You met him at his house studio to investigate a painting. Eventually you're both attacked by a Wanderer in his home and defeat it. In the aftermath, he extends an offer to hire you as his bodyguard, recognizing the value of your talents. You accepted, and as your roles shifted from professional to personal, a deeper connection blossomed between you. It wasn't long before your relationship grew into something more intimate. Eventually he would confess that he was a vampire. At first, his mischievous demeanor made it hard to take his claim seriously.
Rafayel tries so hard to hold himself back whenever he's near you. He would go to any lengths, even staking himself, to ensure he would never cause you harm. He struggles to keep his bloodlust at bay, especially when your scent is so intoxicating. Each time you wear something that exposes your neck, wrists, or ankles, his throat becomes unbearably dry. To mask his struggle, he distracts himself with conversation and avoids eye contact, desperately trying to remain composed. When you're near, he can barely focus on anything but the overwhelming urge to taste your blood, a constant battle between his desires and his determination to keep you safe.
Whenever he shows affection, whether it's a hug or a kiss, he holds you just a bit too tightly, his breath trembling against your neck, making you shiver. Though he's always tender with you, in these moments you can sense the raw edge of his desire, barely contained beneath his gentle exterior. It's a thrilling reminder of the thin line he walks between his love for you and his almost overpowering urge to taste your blood. And at times like this, you truly wonder if your boyfriend was telling you the truth.
However, your skepticism grew when you witnessed his pallor and weakness, the result of without proper nourishment. He explained that blood donors he relied on were bland and left a lingering, unpleasant aftertaste so he had neglected his feeding.
Out of your generosity you would ask him to drink you blood and obviously he'll be shocked and refused. But you know him to well and it takes barely any persuading to let him feed on you.
He prefers to bite your wrist, finding it the most practical and less intrusive spot for feeding. He insists that you sit beside him during the process, believing it to be the safest arrangement. This way if he ever loses control or if you start to feel faint or unwell you can easily pull away and protect yourself from any unintended harm. His primary concern is your safety, and he values this precautionary measure to ensure that your well-being is always safeguarded.
He would lean in, his breath warm against your skin, and with the gentlest pressure, his fangs would pierce the surface of your wrist. A brief, tingling sting that quickly faded into a soothing warmth. He fed slowly savoring the rich, warm taste, each tip tender and measured. His hold on your wrist would be firm but careful, ensuring that you felt secure and not overwhelmed.
As he drank, he would look up a couple times, his gaze fixed on you, watching for any signs of discomfort. When he finally finished, he eased his fangs from your skin and gently licked the small punctures, soothing them with a tender touch. He placed soft kisses over the marks.
Even as a vampire, he'll still mess around with you. He occasionally teases you by extending his fangs just enough to graze your skin. He would let his teeth lightly brush against your arm, just enough to startle you without breaking the surface layer. His laughter rings our softly as you squirm or swat at him, your playful annoyance would be evident. He does this with kisses too. Sometimes you'll feel a sharp fang gently biting your tongue and you'll pull away to flick his forehead for being mischievous
Although he can't see himself in the mirror you would always remind him he's always so handsome. You may not be the artist like he is but you'll try to draw him sometimes and even though it might not be perfect or he might make fun of you, he appreciates the gesture.
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Sylus:
You first met Sylus when an unknown man fires a bullet at you, but Sylus stops the bullet mid-air and disintegrates the man. Despite your minor injuries, with blood seeping from the wounds, your scent was overwhelmingly intoxicating to him. Sylus had been quietly monitoring you, with Mephisto discreetly shadowing your every move. The raw, alluring aroma of your blood ignited a fierce, almost uncontrollable craving within him. Yet, he fought to maintain his composure, striving to resonate with while concealing the fierce hunger that roared within him. Although not a lot of talking has happened when you passed out.
You woke up to find out you've been staying at his home for three days. He's tried to force you to resonate with him after you woke up only to find out the reason why it didn't work was because you were subconsciously rejecting him, scared of him, or disgusted by him. Eventually you agreed to work with him, on the terms of helping you out with your investigation to make you not so disgusted by him.
As you both diligently worked together in the N109 Zone, trust between you gradually deepened. Through countless shared experiences and mutual reliance, you discovered more about each other, and your relationship evolved from professional to deeply personal. Eventually, Sylus reveals to you that he was a vampire. Which was not surprising to you at all. Pale Skin and crimson red eyes? That's def a vampire. The information did not change your relationship but rather you've become more curious.
You found out he usually gets blood from blood bags from the hospital because he has no time to hunt. He hates having to feed on the blood bags as they were too bland and unsatisfying. To compensate, he sometimes indulges in red wine, using it as a substitute to mimic the richness he craves. so sometimes he'll drink a lot of red wine as a filler for blood.
Dates with him are also super thoughtful just like how he would give you gifts. He'll gift you with more antique or vintage things from his past that remind him of you. He loves taking you out on moonlit dates or walks under the stars. He obviously cannot be in the sun but he also hates the sun so this was perfect for him.
He also has a ton of secret hideaways in the world. He created many for anytime you both want to travel so these hidden spots offer a blend of comfort and safety for the two of you.
Out of your kindness and curiosity, you offer him your own blood, hoping it might provide a more fulfilling experience. He would be hesitant about it, mainly worried that he might become addicted once he's consumed your blood. But with reassurance and the communication between you two you decided to try it out.
He preferred to bite you on your inner thigh. You would lay on the body, your body relaxed and supported by the plush of the pillows. Your legs would be slightly bent and spread, giving him easy access as he settled between you. He brushed his lips lightly against your inner thigh, his touch feather-light and soothing. His breath was warm against your skin as his one of his hands rested gently on your hips, offering reassurance and stability. His other hand would be intertwined with yours.
With a deliberate slowness, he allowed his fangs to emerge, their presence barely noticeable at first. As he leaned in, he places a soft kiss on the inner curve of your thigh, his fangs grazing lightly against your skin. The feeling of anticipation and tenderness, would make you tingle with both excitement and nervousness.
When he finally bit down, it was a controlled precision. The initial sting was quick but fleeting, and quickly replaced by a soothing, warm sensation as he began to feed. He couldn't help but groan at your taste. He kept his touch light, his hands continuously caressing your thigh to ensure you were secured and cared for. He'll occasionally look up, to see if you were showing any signs of discomfort.
Once he was done feeding, he would lick the wound clean and caress your thigh as he would praise you. "You taste so good for me sweetie." The gesture you have given him has open a new chapter in your complex relationship.
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sunnysilver8 · 1 year
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The lost OceanGate "sub" is especially horrifying to me, because I actually went into the Titan itself while it was on land. At the time it had only been used for research, but while talking to the OceanGate staff they said they had plans to take civilians down to see the wreckage.
It's not a submarine, it's a tiny, virtually featureless tube. You cannot stand. You can barely sit without touching knees to another person. There is one teeny tiny peephole to see the ocean, and a few screens. And you get locked in it from the outside. It was terrifying, and I was only in it for ten minutes. As someone with thlassophobia, I could never imagine someone would willingly entering the Titan to go to the depths of the ocean, even for research purposes.
I've seen people saying those on board deserve what happened to them because they decided to pay to visit/desecrate a grave site. Let me be clear- I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemies. One of the people on board is a TEENAGER. I desperately hope the vessel will be found on the surface and the people will be able to be rescued, but I think it is unlikely. This tiny 22- foot craft would have had to been able to surface, and then it will have to be found in a vast ocean within 2 days now, or else everyone will suffocate. Even if they're found at the bottom of the ocean alive, getting them to the surface within the current time limit will be near impossible.
Spending four days in the Titan, knowing rescue is unlikely and you will choke when oxygen runs out, would be hell on earth. To me, it would be preferable to die instantly in a depressurization scenario.
Anyways, that's just my two cents. I'm open to questions about my personal experience with OceanGate, but obviously be respectful in regards to the people currently stuck in the Titan.
4K notes · View notes
frightwrite · 2 months
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Orc Mercenary: Gurak
A little something from my old blog. Thought reposting it again would be alright since a lot folks seemed to like it.
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NSFW
Female Reader x Male Orc
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Business had been slow these past couple of weeks. Most of the usual customers hadn’t been appearing as often as they should and you had begun to assume most of them were either dead or had their nomadic adventures further away from your village. The village you resided in was known for supplying adventurers brave enough to explore the lands. Which you, being prominent in alchemy, found it convenient to work on your craft and bring in as much coin from the adventurers as possible.
That evening was the usual routine. Not a lot of folks traveled that far out to your store when it rained, so you spent most of your time keeping yourself busy. You did a bit of housekeeping. Dusting off the old relics, restocking your shelves with potions, and enchanting jewelry up until you got distracted. The bell had chimed signaling someone had entered your little storefront and you had said your usual greeting before looking up, astonished by the sight of him.
The being in your doorway was an orc and he was as intimidating as you have heard from local travelers.. Long tusks protruded from his mouth, a silver ring was dangling between his nostrils and dark tattoos adorned his deep green arms and chest. His black, braided hair had been soaked with the rain. He was well built, that much was evident with the way his leather armor further accented his muscles. But what had caught your attention was the large gash the orc was clutching on his side, dark blood dripping onto your polished wooden floor. 
“Excuse me,” His voice was hoarse as he spoke, “I heard you may have something for this.” He moved his arm away from his abdomen, revealing the deep gash just under the right side of his ribs.
A sickening feeling filled the pit of your stomach when you saw the wound. Blood oozed out of it, dripping onto your floor. You have seen many wounds during your time as the local alchemist, all of which have always made you feel squeamish. You hated the sight of blood. But this put all the other injuries to shame. 
“You’ll need a lot more than just one potion,” Motioning for him to follow you, you lead him to a side room in the store. You usually keep the extra potions in this room and a makeshift sink for your own personal needs. He seated himself on the small cot, glancing around the small room. You assumed he was looking at the various potions and enchantment scrolls sitting about that you had yet to tidy up.
“You’re a witch?” He managed to croak out while you walked over to assess his wound. You chuckled, moving away from the orc to search around the shelves for the ingredients you needed.
“I prefer the term alchemist,” You returned near him, with some herbal remedies along with a mixing bowl. You sat in silence as you crushed and ground the herbs, mixing some of them with a few drops from a potion bottle until it formed a sticky green paste. You scooped up a good amount of the paste on your fingers and turned to your patient. His dark eyes had been watching every move you’d make very intently. 
“I’m assuming that isn’t going to kill me,” He groaned and gave the paste in your cautious glance.
A playful chuckle resounded from your lips as you began to dab the ointment around his wound. “If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now.” 
His face scrunched up in disdain as he let out a hiss from the sudden stinging sensation. You mumbled a quick apology as you continued your work. You had never had an orc as a customer before. Your usuals mostly consisted of human mercenaries and the occasional elven mage. Orcs were rarer in your parts. They kept to themselves in their strongholds and only ever left if it meant there was a blacksmithing or mercenary job for them in one of the major cities.
Taking the bandaids, you began to wrap the cloth around his abdomen, making sure it was tight enough. You stood back, admiring your handiwork with a satisfied hum. “The sealant will work on its own, no need for stitches or bloody needles.” 
“That’s it? No magic words or shiny spells,” The orc sat up to stretch out his arms, giving you a full view of his chiseled features. You blushed and scolded yourself. You shouldn’t be ogling over your new customer.
“I told you I’m an alchemist. If you wanted magic you could’ve asked one of the mages at the college.” You huffed gathering your items together. “You’re better suited for the road now. I won’t charge you anything since this was an emergency. Think of it as my good deed for the day.”
You walked back towards the front of the store, the orc following right behind you. He stopped in front of your desk, eyeing you closely while you scribbled some notes down on parchment paper. For a while you decided to ignore him, going about your business and shuffling around the front desk. But the longer you worked, the longer he stood there in awkward silence.
You paused to glance up at him, a brow raised in confusion. He smiled, shook his head, and said his goodbyes before leaving your store without another word. It was an odd way to end your encounter, but you shrugged it off. The next couple of days went by as usual. You sold some healing potions to a traveling mercenary and sold some ring enchantments to the local blacksmith. The third day was when the orc returned, this time his wounds had healed and only a faint scar remained. Which you had to admit seemed to suit him.
“Hello, Ms. Witch.” He greeted as he walked towards your counter, placing down a neatly folded blanket made of fur that was much larger than anything else you owned.
You rolled your eyes playfully at the new nickname he chose for you and reached out to touch the pelt. Your fingers brushing over the incredibly soft material.
“Woah, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything this soft.” You said in awe. “Is this for me?” You turned your attention to the orc who quickly nodded.
“It’s a gift for patching me up.” He nervously turned away from you and you could have sworn you saw a faint blush appear on his cheeks. “I thought since winter was approaching you might appreciate this.”
“I do, thank you.” You took the blanket and quickly went in the back to place it on a chair. You returned to the front counter with a small stove and a teapot that usually acted as your tiny, yet portable kitchen. You gathered some simple herbs around your counter’s cabinet to make some tea for your guest. 
You poured water into the pot, clicking the stove on to boil the water. As you created a mixture of chamomile and lavender, you briefly looked over Gurak’s wound. “How are you feeling? Did the wound heal up alright?”
Gurak nodded. “Yes, the wound is fine. It felt like my skin was being burnt off. Thought you really did intend to kill me but it stopped after a few days and I ended up with this scar.”
You snorted at his little jest and began to place the herbal mixture into the boiling water. You leaned over the counter to get a better look at the orc’s scar, humming in thought before leaning back. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up with such a nasty wound?”
“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” Gurak chuckled. He watched as you turned off the stove and placed two teacups in front of you. “I’m sure you’ve had more interesting patrons.”
You poured some tea into two cups, handing one to Gurak before blowing gently on your own. “I doubt I have. So far you’re the only customer that’s piqued my interest.”
“Well, aren’t I lucky? I suppose I could tell you my story.” The orc laughed to himself once more, swirling the contents of his teacup which was dwarfed by his large hand. “Unlike most orcs, I don’t belong to a stronghold. I work as a mercenary of sorts, I go where I am needed. Not many of my kind are in my line of business. Would much rather prefer to deal with our own kind. I left to find a better use for my skills, so I offered my services. I got hired for simple tasks, retrieving lost items, pest control, hired muscle for caravans. That sort of thing. Recently, I was hired to retrieve a man’s sword out of a bandit camp. Family heirloom. I’m sure you could tell how well that job went.” 
You listened intently as he spoke, only breaking eye contact every now and then to sip your tea. “I’m impressed. You managed to take on a group of bandits and only left with that gash in your stomach. I wouldn’t want to see what you did to them in return!”
Gurak beamed at your words which appeared to boost his ego. “I am honored you think so.” 
The bell on your front door rang causing you to flinch and turn your gaze away from Gurak’s. You weren’t even aware you had been staring at him. A dark elf stood in the doorway, your old friend Lilith. Her blood-red gaze shifted from Gurak to you, and a smirk slowly appeared on her face in realization.
“Am I interrupting something?” She inquired.
You quickly shook your head, setting your teacup down on the counter. Gurak did the same, giving you a wave before excusing himself. 
“Is it alright if I return?” He asked.
“Of course. I’ll be here.” You waved him off and you were left with your elven companion. You decided to busy yourself with cleaning up your tea set, avoiding eye contact with Lilith. You could feel her eyes burning into your back as you moved around your counter. After a while, you sighed and decided to humor her a little. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” She sang in an overly sweet tone. “Just never took you to be the type to fall for an orc. I always thought you’d end up with a tiefling, especially with that one kink of yours.”
You almost dropped the teacup you had been holding as she spoke. You spun on your heels to confront her. “I didn’t fall for anyone!”
Lilith grinned, the expression silently mocking you as she played with one of your many display jars. “Sure, sure. Believe what you want. But I can tell when love is blooming and there’s something between the two of you.” 
You snatched the jar from her, placing it on the opposite side of the counter. “I’m done talking about it. Now are you going to buy something, or did you just come here to annoy me?”
The elf rolled her eyes before going off to browse around your store for the item she had originally come to purchase. After she left with a few more words of encouragement, you were alone and decided to close the shop earlier since it seemed like no one else was going to show up. 
You saw Gurak the next morning. His face lit up when he saw you behind the counter in your usual spot. Your friend’s words went through your mind and you couldn’t help but feel elated at how happy the orc was to see you. 
“Gurak! I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.” You smiled at the orc as he walked up and leaned against your counter giving you a good view of his strong arms. 
“Well, I couldn’t leave my favorite witch alone today.”
You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks from his comment and also the fact he must’ve picked up on you staring at him. You tried to focus on the potions you were sorting, trying to keep your mind off of the handsome orc in front of you and on the labels of each bottle. Gurak reached over the counter, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, which didn’t help your already flustered state. 
“I came to see if you needed any help around the shop today?” He asked. You took a moment to think it through, wondering what exactly an orc mercenary could do for your little potion shop. 
“Hm, nothing in particular…” You started, before seeing the eager look on his face slowly die down causing you to feel guilty at being the cause of that. “But, I think there were some shelves you could help me tighten down?”
Gurak perked up at your suggestion and he grinned, nodding excitedly. He quickly got to work once you helped him find the toolbox you kept in the back of the store. He started by assessing all the wooden shelves in your store before also taking into account the wooden display tables you have, which had seen better days. Despite you telling the large orc he didn’t have to worry about the tables he insisted, and if there’s something you recall about orcs is their stubbornness when it came to things they had their mindset on.
You went back to casually taking inventory of your potions, reading the labels, and marking them off of your checklist while also writing down ones that needed to be refilled. Every now and then you’d glance over at Gurak, watching as his eyes were fixated on the shelves he reworked. Or the way his hard muscles flexed with each movement he made, especially since the tight gray cotton shirt he was wearing instead of his usual leather armor showed the more defined tones of his abs. 
“Enjoying the view, Ms. Witch?” 
You flinched as Gurak’s voice snapped you out of your daydream, causing you to almost drop the frail glass bottle you held in your hand. After letting out a sigh of relief, you shot Gurak an accusatory look.
“You shouldn’t startle people like that you’ll give them a heart attack.” You scold.
Gurak gave you a sheepish grin as he approached your counter and leaned against it. He mimicked what he had done last time, brushing a strand of hair and delicately placing it behind your ear. 
The large orc chuckled as your face heated up again. “You seemed distracted, I thought it would be cute to tease you.”
“Is that why you show up to the shop so much? To tease me?” You instinctively leaned into his touch, reaching up to caress the hand against your cheek, quickly taking notice of how much larger Gurak’s hand was compared to your own. 
His expression softened as he brought his face closer to yours, his gaze briefly glancing down at your lips.
“Have you not noticed?” He muttered. You lifted a brow at his question, silently urging him to continue. “I have been trying to court you since I first met you. I thought I was being forward about it.”
You stared at him with wide eyes at the realization as you thought back to the little gestures of kindness or the lingering stares you and Gurak had shared. With the way he acted, you always thought he was just being overly friendly, but that wouldn’t explain the little moments between the both of you. 
“I wish you had told me sooner.” You let out a laugh, your hands finding their way to caress Gurak’s face. “If I had known I would’ve kissed you by now.”
The look on Gurak’s face turned to one of complete adoration as he relished the warmth from your hands against his cheeks. He turned to press a kiss against the palm of your hand, his gaze focused on the way you stared at him longingly. He brushed his lips against your wrist, pressing a gentle kiss into the palm of your hand before he caught himself. He stared into your eyes expectedly, waiting to see if you would push him away. You gave him a reassuring smile, making your way around the counter over to where he stood.
You jumped up, hoisting yourself against him by wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms instinctively went up to support you as he lifted you by your waist. Placing both hands on his cheeks, you pulled him into a kiss feeling the way he tensed up in surprise before relaxing. Gurak turned and sat you on the countertop deepening the kiss while you ran your hands through his hair, accidentally pulling on one of his braids. A deep moan rumbled from Gurak before he pulled away from the passionate kiss.
He chuckled, caressing your cheek while his large thumb brushed over your kiss-swollen lips. “Eager aren’t we, Miss witch?”
Letting out a pleased hum in response, you placed a chaste kiss against his thumb before gesturing toward the front door. “Lock up the front and meet me in the back.” 
Gurak perked up instantly at your instruction as he placed you back onto the floor. He swiftly got to work on closing the store for the day. You sauntered to the back, quickly moving potion bottles and ingredients away to make more space for the large orc. You started to undress, untying the woven knots that kept your work apron in place. Gurak entered the backroom just as you untied the last knot. You grinned, leaning back on the cot as you outstretched your arms to him. The cotton work shirt slides down to the crevices of your arms, showing just enough of your bare breasts to cause Gurak’s breath to hitch. You chuckled at his reaction, finally allowing the simple garment to fall onto the floor with a soft thud. 
“Are you going to keep me waiting longer, Gurak?” You called out to the orc, causing him to snap out of his daze.
He made quick work of his own shirt, tossing it somewhere alongside your discarded clothes. You finally got a full view of his well-built torso, every roll and chiseled perfection of his muscles reminding you of the near-perfect statues outside the mage tower. 
“Like what you see, Ms.Witch?” He asked, lifting a brow in mocking curiosity.
You were about to retaliate until Gurak’s arms pinned you against the cot. “Oh, impatient aren’t we?”
He chuckled as he leaned down to press firm kisses against your neck, his tusks adding a little more pressure. “You have no idea.” 
You grind your hips in an upwards motion, feeling the growing tent in his pants as he let out a deep groan. He wasted no time peppering kisses down your neck to your collarbone, into the valley of your breasts, and then taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He nipped and sucked on the sensitive nipple, using his free hand to fondle your other breast. His hand was large and calloused, easily engulfing your breast in his palm. Your hands wandered to the back of his head, your fingers tangling themselves in his dark braids as you let out quiet, breathy moans. He slowly traverses down your body, stopping at your thighs.
The teasing smile he gave you caused your cheeks to heat up as you wordlessly spread your legs for him. He hummed, pleased at the site of your arousal. His thumb rolled gentle circles into your clit, making you arch your back off of the cot slightly. Your moans encouraged him to use his free hand to trace your entrance, gathering the slick that was already starting to leak from you. He teased your sensitive folds, replacing his thumb with his tongue as he sucked your aching clit. His large finger slipped between your folds, causing you to let out a string of gasps and moans. His finger already felt like it filled out your cunt and you could only imagine how much bigger his cock would be.
He curled the finger inside of you, brushing up against the spot that caused you to roll your hips in an attempt to feel more of him. Gurak’s pleased moans sent pulses of pleasure into your clit, the sensation causing the knot in your stomach to tighten. You chanted his name over and over as you finally reached your climax, your hands tangled in his hair, grasping at the braids as you shivered from your orgasm. The finger that was inside you was replaced with his tongue as he licked up your juices, humming in contentment as the taste of you coated his tongue. Gurak pulled away, licking his lips as he gazed down at your limp form.
“Have I tired you out already?” He teased, earning him a tired scoff from you. His arousal was prominent now, his cock causing a very noticeable tent. You brought yourself up from your resting position, using your elbows to prop yourself as you tilted your head. You chuckled, spreading your legs open again fully on display for Gurak to see. The predatory look in his eyes sent an excited chill up your spine, yet you still managed to smirk up at him. 
“Hmm, I don’t know, I think I still got a little in me.” You answered back sweetly. His hands firmly held the sides of your hips, pulling you closer to him while he worked his cock out of his pants. He could easily manhandle you if he wanted to, but even with how impatient he was now Gurak still tried his best to have some restraint when handling you.
His erection was finally freed from its confines, and his large cock rested against your inner thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance. His thumb wandered down to rub your slick, his brows furrowing in worry. 
You leaned forward to pat his forearm. “Hey, you okay?”
“I might be too big for you.” Gurak’s gaze switched to you as a sheepish grin appeared on his face. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you won’t, I trust you.” You shook your head, gyrating your hips to lightly grind against his cock. “Besides, I can take it.”
He sighed blissfully, gently leading you to lay back down as the head of his dick rubbed against your slit. He slowly pushed in, stretching you full as his cock buried itself deep in you. He waited a moment, experimentally pulling out just a little then slowly pushing back into you. He kept this slow pace up for a moment, grunting at the way your walls squeezed him. 
You moaned, rolling your hips impatiently. “More….keep going.”
He chuckled, his hand fondling your cheek lovingly before he switched his movements. His hips pulled away from you leaving only the tip of his cock in you. He suddenly thrust into you, causing a pleasure-filled cry to escape your lips. Gurak kept thrusting at a fast pace, intertwining your fingers with one of his hands while the other had his thumb brushing against your lips. You opened your mouth, sucking on the finger while his cock relentlessly slammed into you.
“Mmm, look at you, taking me so well.” Gurak’s voice was wavering, his sentences being cut short every now and then by his own grunts and moans. He rolled his hips a certain way, his cock brushing against a very sensitive spot.
You let out another cry, trying your best to speak. “R-right there…Gurak, please don’t stop..!”
“Shhh. I know, beautiful, I know.” He cooed, rubbing your cheek as the tears spilled from your eyes due to the pleasure. His pace quickened again due to your request, his dick hitting you in jus the right spot. Your back arched off of the bed as the knot in your stomach snapped once more. Your orgasm caused you to shake, your walls clenching around the thick cock still thrusting into you. 
Gurak’s pace became more sloppy as he moved both his hands to grip your waist. He pushed into you one last time before he came, his cum shooting deep into you. Some of it gushing out as he finally pulled out of you with a tired sigh. You were panting heavily while Gurak stared down at you. He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead as you tried to regain your strength. You felt a shift in the cot as he got up, moving around the small room before you felt his presence near you again. A warm cloth could be felt between your legs as he carefully cleaned you up, tossing the dirty rag onto the floor while he handed you the cup of water.
“Here, don’t strain yourself, love.” He muttered, helping you drink from the cup.
Gurak finally laid next to you after gently resting you against his chest. A satisfied hum came from you as he rubbed circles into your back. You started to giggle after a while, burying your face into his burly chest.
“What?” The sound of the orc’s confusion only caused your giggling fit to increase. 
“I still can’t believe you thought I’d pick up on your Orcish customs. Usually us humans just ask each other out for lunch and go on from there.” 
He snorted, playing with a strand of your hair. “Well Ms.Witch, despite my slip up you’ve still earned yourself a mate. Congratulations.”
You let out a loud laugh at his sarcasm, leaning up to press a loving kiss onto his lips. The way he looked at you was enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Lucky me.”
[More Monsters]
784 notes · View notes
atzfilm · 9 months
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𝐚𝐭𝐳𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦'𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 .ᐟ
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all works of writing/summaries are not owned by me, and all credits go to the respective writers! this list will be updated periodically with stories i have read ♡ i thought that as a writer myself who consumes talented stories on this site, it would be good for me to show you all a fraction of what i read myself tehe (i read majority poly!teez/mc so that category will be filled!!) ☆
— note: 90% of these fics will contain mature themes, since it's all i read! please read the specific author's notes before reading!
❤︎ - personal favorites
ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ
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— ❤︎ mists of celeste (??/reader, several pairings) by @hongism
genre: scifi/space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut, fluff
summary: sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.
notes: as an atiny on tumblr.com, i feel like it's a rite of passage to read moc. it's one of the best written works i have had the privilege of reading. it's gripping, it's heartbreaking, it's filled with yearning and love, and has you hoping that the characters survive this ordeal. san i love you most you can tell by the masterlist alone that she has crafted a whole space pirate universe intricately and with the utmost care. she deals with the trauma of the characters so so well and i cant lie ive cried a lot reading it jdhdksjddj, it's the fic that made me start reading ateez ff, i mean, i started reading before even knowing ateez and i had to have a separate tab open to remember who was who. that alone can tell you how much of a work of art this is. omg, im blabbering, but please read this.
— hotel california (ot8/reader) by @mint-yooxgi
genre: yandere, demon!au
summary: checking in to a hotel ran by yandere!Ateez, the boys decide she can no longer leave
my notes: im not too sure how i came across this work, i think it was an endless scroll of me trying to find something to read, but nevertheless, this story. i have not finished it yet (a great and utter pity) but from what ive read so far. im actually very concerned on how much ive read of this in one night 😨, i think the plot is so so unique, i love a strong mc who does not take any shit whatsoever, i love gaslighting demon!ateez 🙂‍↕️. i had to stare at the wall several times while reading,, felt like jim in the office truly. UGH it's just so good??? i can't recommend enough!! PLEASE READ.
— ❤︎ the answer (ot8?/reader, side pairings) by @berryunho
genre: cult au, thriller
summary: life is great until your best friend goes missing your senior year of university, leaving little more than an apology and goodbye. Months later, you’re determined to find out what happened to him and discover a situation much more complicated than you would have ever anticipated - as in - Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers 'sect.'
my notes: i first discovered this fic on ao3 and somehow found out lauren had a tumblr blog but i digress – i found this one night and was so excited that i found something so so unique and different and i am pretty sure i didn't sleep until 4am reading everything omg . it's truly so funny and i adore the main character more than anything, the snide remarks truly encompass and make you feel their emotions? cult leader hongjoong is something else... without spoiling hfjdjf. i beg lauren often for a spoiler because it's just that good. please read.
— OUTLAW (ot8/reader, side pairings) by @staytinyville
genre: wild west!au, smut(?), angst
summary: you thought you would be spending the rest of your life tending to the hotel your family ran. while you knew it was common to see bandits come and go in your town, you felt safe in your home. at least safe enough with a weapon at your disposal. however you were no match for eight men who were known to most as outlaws around the plains. hawt kind of adventures did they go on?
my notes: i started reading this a while back and have yet to finish, but so far the premise is so so so interesting and i love readying cowboy aus rjkfjkdrfkj ITS SO GOOD!!!! I CANT WAIT TO CATCH UP
— sway with me (ot8/reader, wooyoung/reader) by @luvt0kki
genre: sci-fi/space/futuristic!au
summary: former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home…and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet.
my notes: tokki already knows all of this but,,, i started this a month or so ago? and i read the first chapter and i legit lost my mind,,, in the calmest way possible... the first chapter is gripping and it sets a environment that i very much would love to live in??? it's just so so well written, and the reader is very much my type NDFAKKJ ANYWAY... it's told from the pov of wooyoung and i love it??? so MUCH?? please read ok bye
— one more rep (woosan x reader) by @cheollipop
genre: smut, f2l, trainers woosan
summary: san got a little too excited watching you exercise in purple – his favourite colour – and wooyoung was nothing if not a tease. turning their attention back to you, they didn't expect to see you equally worked-up.
my notes: ???? i actually read this a few times,,,, this fic yall.... i cannot... the mental image of woosan in the gym makes me delusional enoughdsjkaskfjksd PLEASE.
— like a dream (yungi x reader) by cheollipop
genre: bf!yungi, smut
summary: with only the orange hues of the lamp illuminating the room, they have you for the first time, and it feels just like a dream.
my notes: yunho and mingi are my weakness,, so the both of them together.....
sᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ
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to be added!
ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ
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— horizon by @pxedpiper (ft. ateez/f.reader)
genre: pirate!au
summary: once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.
my notes: i just found this the other day but remembering reading it a while ago! it's so so well written and i enjoyed it sm 🥹
ʏᴜɴʜᴏ
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to be added!
ʏᴇᴏsᴀɴɢ
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to be added!
sᴀɴ
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to be added!
ᴍɪɴɢɪ
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— safe haven (mingi/reader) by @atxxzist
genre: bodyguard!au, fluff
summary: your father has had enough of your shit, and hires Song Mingi; his best friend's son, to be your personal bodyguard
my notes: is it possible to fall down the mingi hole deeper than i already have? maybe! this fic pretty much lives in my head,,, endlessly,,,, i love mingi. i love this au so much and i especially love bodyguard aus, i think it's one of my favorite genres and this deepens it.... PLEASE READ.
ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ
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— rough rider (wooyoung x afab!reader) by @choism
genre: smut
summary: In which you meet a hot twink at a club who has a slightly unhealthy obsession with the 2000's and y2k bimbocore.
my notes: i......... there's no way i can describe this fic... if u yearn for wooyoung the way i do. read this.
— what happened to slow down? (bf!wooyoung x reader) by @ja3hwa
genre: smut
summary: coming back from a house party, you and woo couldn't seem to keep your hands off one another. everything was happening so fast. you two didn't even make it to the bedroom.
my notes: insert a photo of someone throwing a phone and screaming crying, then picking it up to read the rest. thats me kjrfakfajkf
ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ
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to be added!
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yasemei · 6 months
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Aventurine, Jing Yuan,Sunday, Blade and Wriothesley celebrating teen!reader’s birthday!!
🪷 Genre: Platonic + Found family
🌸 a/n: its my birthday so I decided to actually write something today!! :) english is not my native language so please excuse any errors
🪻 father figure characters / topaz, dr.ratio, yanqing, robin,kafka, silver wolf, elio and sigewinne mentioned / reader is a prisoner at fortress of meropide in wriothesley‘s part
~ Aventurine ~
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Aventurine probably didnt celebrate many birthdays, including his own, but he really cared for you and wanted to make yours special.
He would buy something you really wanted, no matter how expensive it is, he is going to spoil you rotten.
He would also buy a very sweet and expensive cake for you, he always takes note of your preferences and likes, so he buys the most suited cake and gifts for you.
He tries to get a break from work to celebrate with you, if he cant manage to you would just celebrate at his office.
He has no problem if you want to celebrate just with him, but if you want more people and not feel lonely, he would try to get dr.ratio and topaz to celebrate with you. (with a lot of effort)
Ratio would be hard, but if youre a student of his and Aventurine manages to convince him enough, he would buy you a small gift and text happy birthday to you.
Topaz wouldnt mind celebrating your birthday, despite her not being too fond of Aventurine, it wouldnt take too much convincing to get her to celebrate your birthday. She would buy you a nice gift and personally wish you a happy birthday.
You two spend the all night having fun. He personally tucks you to bed when you get sleepy. (He might even carry you)
Seeing you grow up and enjoying your youthful years satisfies him than any gamble could ever do. He follows the path of preservation, he would do almost anything to preserve your youth and happiness— something that sadly wasnt done for him.
~ Jing Yuan ~
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Jing Yuan is used to celebrating birthdays, he celebrates Yanqing’s every year after all.
He also buys you great gifts and cake. Like Aventurine he makes sure to remember your likes and preferences.
He is also pretty busy, but he would make time for you since its your birthday.
Yanqing would celebrate with you as well.
He tucks Yanqing and you to bed before going back to the endless paperwork on his desk.
He has a big soft spot for you and Yanqing, watching you two grow up makes him bittersweet, knowing that you two are going to be adults one day and not spend as much time with him as you do now.
But he believes that you two will be good and responsible adults thanks to his guidance.
~ Sunday ~
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Sunday would be make extra time for you, also inviting Robin for your birthday
He would buy you a gift from a very luxurious store in Golden Hour, he even orders a special birthday cake for you.
Robin would personally sing happy birthday to you with her angelic voice
Sunday already has a tendency to dote on you, but not directly since he is busy, he leaves random gifts during the day and has bloodhounds watch over you to ensure your safety while he is busy working.
But for the sake of your birthday; you, him and Robin had lots of fun together.
~ Blade ~
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Blade wasnt too sure what to for your birthday, ever since he adopted his new identity, he has been disconnected from people, only living as a weapon.
But you were special to him, he always felt the need to protect and care for you. Maybe you had bringed out the fatherly instincts that he didnt even know he had.
He goes to Silver Wolf and Kafka for advice.
He ultimately decides to make you a handmade gift, he used to make weapons after all, his crafting skills are incredible, maybe not as much as it was when he was still Yingxing, but he is still talented.
Kafka buys the cake and some accesories or clothing as gifts
Silver Wolf would hack into a rich persons account to get you something you really wanted.
Elio doesnt give you any missions, you and your fellow stellaron hunters celebrate together when they come back
Blade would carry you to bed when you get tired, he would even tuck you in if you ask nicely
~ Wriothesley ~
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Wriothesley would buy a cake and gift for you from the overworld
You two and Sigewinne celebrate together by drinking tea and having cake
You and Wriothesley already spend a lot of time together since you work directely under him
Seeing you grow up safely makes him happy, even though you are a prisoner, he has a huge soft spot for you
He would also tuck you in, but he would do it secretly so the other inmates dont see him being a massive softie, he has a reputation to uphold after all and cant have the inmates misbehaving or maybe even using you against him
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lovecried · 21 days
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★ DIVERSE PALETTE!
you always considered yourself diverse within the world of food & the culinary arts, but you realize how inept you are when you meet sukuna. he lets you know that your palette was weak until you tried him.
( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, sukuna ryomen, fluff & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 1544 words.
╰┈➤ chef!sukuna, afab!reader (she/her pronouns), panty thief!sukuna, fingering, slight pussy job, unprotected sex, finger sucking, lowercase intended (i wrote this on my phone lolz), not proofread.
( author's note. ) kinda wanna expand on chef!sukuna now? would love to write a long fic dedicated to it now. it'd be so yummy 😋 !!
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"oh, really?" his chuckle is deep, reverberating from his chest as he listens to you go on and on about the many trips you've taken around the world. how you've tried so many cuisines and the authentic delicacies of the people from whichever country you've made a visit to. you're not even trying to be a pretentious bitch, eyes lighting up in genuine passion as they sparkle under the dim lights of the restaurant of his choice.
the moment he had mention his interests in cooking, never letting you know that he was a chef with a restaurant of his own, you leaned in over the table, your interest evidently piqued as he gives a simple shrug, not finding what about his occupation made him so captivating. this blind date was supposed to fail, he thought. he believed that with the shrug of his shoulders and his dreadful nonchalance would pull you away from him. a sweet thing that sat at a table all along after he was nearly an hour late. eyes that pitied you as you looked around in expectance. truthfully, his plans were to stand you up, but you were badgering his friends and in response, his friends badgered him.
a few of his "friends" or his work colleagues as he preferred to put it, had set him up on one in hopes to get him out of his work. he found nothing intriguing about his career choice, yet he slaved away in the kitchen to perfect his craft. he loved his job, but he didn't see the point in talking about it outside of it. it's what he did, and when he did allot time outside of it, he didn't want to talk about it.
but you? you wore a vermillion dress that went well with your warm undertones, causing you to glow within the stiff building. where everyone else wore the safe colors of black and white, you stood out in the satin cloth that clings to you in a snug fit with gold jewelry that rests against your brown skin and further accentuates your beauty. you're not wearing that much makeup, but sukuna wouldn't know. that's not something he's too familiar, but if you are, it melts beautifully into your skin and it's alluring.
he finds your passion for the topic amusing, noticing that you're picking at your plate with your fork. you've eaten a bit, but not a lot. tapping his feet against the tiled-floor as he took becomes interested, it must be contagious. "what do you think about your food tonight? how does it compare to everywhere else you've been?"
"oh! um..." you stop in your tracks, eyes widening at the tone he takes. you realize that you've done it again. started rambling and made yourself seem like all that you're not. you become hyper aware of everything you're doing, wondering if you're being an asshole by bringing up your experiences. you've been told that you might come across that way. in fact, before arriving to this date, you were told not to bring up your trips. and here you are, doing just that. "um, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to come off a certain way—"
he notices that you drop the fork, letting it fall to the plate with a clank. you start fidgeting with your nails, picking at the skin. an awful habit you've come to have. "i'm no food critic or expert, just a foodie who travels a lot, so i don't think that it'll really matter. the food does taste good though! i just got... a little ahead of myself."
cute, he thinks.
"huh?" you grow flustered at the mumbled comment. you're sure he didn't mean to utter that out loud if you're absolutely sure you caught what he said. it's good to know that you've got his attention somehow.
"hm?" he dismisses it with a clear in his throat. "well, i didn't mean to sound so condescending myself. i just wanted to see if this restaurant was matching your tastes."
the heat bites at your face, as you're quick to dismiss his words. "oh, don't worry! i'll eat anything— everything matches my tastes."
"oh yeah?" his voice grows even huskier. "then im pretty sure you won't mind having a taste of me."
"what... what?" the conversation has took a turn and you're unsure if it's for the better or worse, but sukuna's sitting up in his chair, leaning closer to you to the point you can feel his breath against your skin. you didn't mishear him. you know that for sure just based on the dark gleam in his eyes.
"you heard me," a devious grin graving his features. sharp, carnivorous teeth that peak out from his lips in a dashing grin. "i'm dying to just have a taste of you. i'm sure you wouldn't mind having one for yourself, hm?"
₊˚⊹♡
he's an insatiable creature who's lips you can't help but devour whenever he's in your presence. a man that you can't get enough of and puts all of your endeavors to shame. you've come to learn that he's a man skilled in the kitchen as well in the bed, that first night after your first date with him, putting every other man and every plate into an embarrassed frenzy.
he was bold and passionate, despite what he wanted to deceive you on. his nonchalance could never hide how he yearned and strived to be better and to improve every dish he's created.
"no one's ever mastered anything," he told you once, while he cooked you steamed fish. his callused hands moving delicately across the plate as he handled the food with care. this was a dinner date after all, and he had to improve his little food critic. "there's always some way we can improve."
what you both believed to be one night of heavenly passion turned into more. something genuine being pulled out in the midst of it all. he was right in a sense. it was human nature to have flaws, but you could see none of his. not even with the way he manhandled you in the night, while in the day, he'd hold you like a lady.
he was a course that you had never tasted before. that exploded on your taste buds the moment you kissed him. with a lingering touch and the swipe of his finger against your bottom lip before he intoxicated you with his divinity. he was something that had you weak in the knees, ready to bow down to him at any moment's time. he proved to you that your exquisite palette was as exquisite as you made it to be.
his rough, callused hands that are tender from a long day's worth of cooking and preparation for the next hold gently as he carries you over to the bed. lines of blue that traverse his wrists, a thumb padding and rubbing calming circles into your hips. smooth and soft, supple lips that capture yours for a heated kiss— a shared silence between the two of you, minus the huffs of haughty moans and the air you both share.
your whines and whimpers are weak, swallowed by him as he devours you. but you do the same. nimble fingers that grasp at him, arms that wrap around his shoulder and nails digging into his back. he flexes and contracts at the pinch of skin, trying to get impossibly closer. the pile of clothing builds into a haphazardous mess, watching the two of you messily dance towards your bed.
and you bounce when you land on top, a squeal that should all be too familiar with this process. your eyes gloss and shimmer with an expectancy as they take in sukuna's spectacular form. black ink that travel the course of his body, prominent in the dim lighting of his bedroom.
your eyes roam as he unzips his pants, a relief to be unrestrained as he shimmies from out of them and they pool to the floor. black boxer briefs that hug him perfectly and does nothing to hide the growing erection that's underneath. all the while, his eyes stayed on yours, watching how you were so mesmerized with him. one knee causes the bed to dip, the route to you is now muscle memory. he hovers over you, an intimidating spirit that causes your stomach to flutter with butterflies and a pool growing in between your legs.
your fingers reach for the band of his underwear, and with you, he's not afraid to let go. he exhales as he lets you reach inside, fingers that graze and gently pull at the dark hues of his happy trail, combing your digits through the tufts of hair before you feel the base of his cock. you both let out a sound of need— you anticipating his cock and him loving the feeling of you around him. he has a habit of knitting his eyebrows together whenever you give into the urge, thick bushes that allude to one as a guttural sound leaves his lips.
your hands are cold, sending a shiver down his spine as you squeeze slightly at the base. he continues to harden under your hold, the tent in his boxer briefs becoming more prominent despite your hand inside it. your free hand comes to wrap around his waist, feeling each crevice and well-sculpted muscle of him as you drag him down into you. releasing your hand from his underwear, you buck your hips into his erection. you're so heavy with need, wrapping a leg to pull him in immensely as you mewl. "ryo, i need you."
with a menacing smirk, his eyes look down at you devilishly. "'m all yours for the taking."
"i need you t'do something, ryo," you specify, growing whiny at his teasing and bucking your hips further into him. his bulge rubbing against your pussy, your juices seeping through your panties. your back arches from the bed, grinding up into him for the friction and how it feels so good. your chest beats fast, your breathes becoming short with heavy want and desire. it's so bad, you're starting to tear up the longer sukuna withholds action. "please."
"alright." he gives in easy at the sight of a tear prickling the corner of your eye. arms lowering to press his chest into yours and immediately capturing you for a kiss, his hands going straight to cupping your pussy and feeling just how wet you are through the lacy fabric. you both move in a rhythm, further dampening your panties as you exhale in delight. you mewl into his lips, letting him swallow every sound from you as he gnaws on your bottom lip.
rubbing in circles to your clothed clit, soon enough he can hear just how wet you are from his very few actions. he tugs down the underwear, pulling it down by the crotch. you assist in kicking it off, well aware that this might be another pair that'll find itself lost and no longer in your possession now that it's in the hands of sukuna. he's hasty in shoving two fingers inside of you, needing to stretch you no matter how many times the two of you have both shared this bed. you croak out a slightly pained moan as sukuna sucks on your bottom lip, shifting your focus.
your walls greedily suck him in, your juices like a trap as sukuna wants nothing than to create more, to see once more just how your pussy reacts to him. deep inside, his fingers curl inside of you before pulling out. his wet fingers traversing to your clit and taunting your needy hole. you clench, your juices seeping out as sukuna circles your nub. "that's enough, hm? or does my darling need more?"
fingers returning to its home inside your pussy, you whine at the feeling as he sets a moderate pace, fucking you with his thick fingers. your eyes shut, basking in the feeling as you let your body relax into him. no, it's never enough. he fills you with a carnal need that you're not sure you'll ever be able to satiate. he has you addicted, forever wanting more. will this intimacy ever be enough?
"i need more," you finally answer, hands reaching for his erection once more. cupping his cock as he did your pussy. "want you— your cock in me. please, ryo. please."
with a few more thrusts of his fingers, he removed them and lets them dance on your tongue, letting you taste your need for him. your tongue swirls, saliva replacing your slick. he joins you in your hum of delight, missing him tugging down his boxer briefs. a length too heavy that it falls, dark shafts with a mushroom tip, he holds it. rubbing the tip with his thumb, he hisses at how needy he is, feeling how much he himself also wants you.
he plants his length in between your folds, bucking his hips into you as he slides inbetween your pussy lips. his head tilts, fitting it in the crevice of your neck. his breath sends jolts down you, feeling his lips on your jaw as the head of his cock kisses your entrance, slowly sliding in. "it's all yours, love."
and feeling him inside you again, reminds you once more that you've never had anything— anyone — as good as him.
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ishgard · 8 months
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Presenting: An Absurdly, Stupidly Long and Wordy Warrior of Light-based Questionnaire, or as my bestie dubbed it:
30 WoL Think Thonkers
Less an ask prompt, more of a daily prompt, (though you can use it as an ask prompt if you prefer!) Answer the questions however you want: straight-forward, with stories or screens, or a mix of all.
Get any of your little brainworms out. Wax poetic, ramble off into several digressions, challenge yourself to answer in the least amount of words possible, whatever you're vibing with! (If you want to tag them #wolthinkthonkers feel free!)
This is very Warrior of Light and MSQ based. It's set from a Post-Endwalker mindframe, so there are some minor/vaguely worded spoilers.
----------------------- WARM-UP QUESTIONS
I. Where is your Warrior of Light from? What was their home like growing up and what set them out on their journey?
2. What city-state did your WoL start in? How did they feel about it then, and how do they feel about it now? (ie, did their experiences sour their perception, or make them appreciate it more?)
3. How do they feel about being Hydaelyn's chosen? (Feel free to break it down from ARR's "Champion of Eorzea" all the way to "The Savior of Etheirys" as much as you like. Have those feelings changed, or just grown more complex?)
4. What do they do in their down time? Do they have any hobbies outside of Primal-slaying and world-saving? Are these lifelong hobbies or recent interests?
5. How do they feel now that "it's all over" (the story of Hydaelyn and Zodiark)? What do they plan to do next? Or is their story finished - and if you're retiring them, what does retirement look like for them? Do you have someone else taking the stage going forward?
6. Who was their Azem? What were they like, and were they different from your WoL? Who were their family, friends? Or, if you don't care for the Azem angle or went in your own direction for their past self, how so? How does your WoL feel about their Ancient identity?
----------------------- CHANGES
7. Have they gone through any physical changes? What scars have they collected, and how do they feel about them? Did they sprout horns or other features as a result of spells or pacts gone wrong? How did light corruption impact them? Or have they walked away miraculously unscathed? Are they more peculiar for how eerily unmarred they are?
8. What is one of their biggest regrets? Has it had an effect on how they act moving forward, for better or worse?
9. The Warrior of Light has been through quite a lot, but what is a moment, big or small, that bolstered and renewed their spirit? Was it a cup of hot cocoa or a lovingly crafted sandwich? Did someone give them a few words or a gesture at just the right time that meant the world to them? (Of course, this can be a canon event or headcanon!)
10. What does home look like for them now? Do they still return to the home where they started, and if so has it changed at all? Or have they found or forged a new home? Who do they live with, if anyone? What sort of things do they keep in their personal space?
11. Despite everything, is it still you? Has the core of who they are as a person remained true through everything, or have they been changed by what they've experienced and learned, for better or worse?
13. Is there a canon moment you've drastically (or not-so-drastically) rewritten? A character death, or something that just really did not fit your WoL's character. Or just some alterations and personal touches you've added? Has that had any long-term changes on the wider story?
----------------------- STORY
12. Which canon moments shaped your Warrior of Light and impacted them the most?
14. Do you have any headcanons for what happened post-Ultima Thule? What kind of injuries did they suffer, or did they walk it off like a boss? Did they take a lengthy vacation, did you shove a time skip in there before 6.1 hit? Or was it quickly off to the next adventure?
15. What were their thoughts and feelings on the events of Myths of the Realm? How did they regard the Twelve prior, and how did the revelations impact them? Was meeting their patron particularly special to them, or not really?
16. What were their thoughts and feelings delving into Pandaemonium? How did they feel working alongside Themis and Lahabrea, after all their history? What did they think about how things ended?
17. Taking a step away from "canon", do you have any wholly unique side quests and adventures your Warrior of Light has gotten caught up in? Did they chase down ghosts of their own past, get married, open a bakery, or fix an ancient blood curse on their family line? Have they reunited with loved ones or buried old hatchets? If there's some unique story behind your character, how does it show up and how did it play out?
----------------------- COMBAT & ABILITIES
18. How do they feel about the work they do? As the Warrior of Light they're tasked with quite a lot of violence, is it something that comes naturally to them or do they resist it? Are they merciless, do they try to spare as many lives as they can, or do they fall somewhere in between?
19. While many fights are dramatic or have high stakes, are there any especially memorable or difficult fights they encountered? Outside scripted battles, were there conflicts that you thought felt better if they were tweaked for narrative or lore-based reasons, ie their first time fighting a primal? Or perhaps a more meta "You the player had a hard time so it translated into headcanon for them".
20. Are there any unique abilities that they possess outside of what's in-game? Are they actually a dragon, or do they see visions of the future? Or, is there a special way that their Echo manifests?
21. Jobs! What job is your character and why is that the route they chose? Is your WoL a Jack-of-all-Trades, or just have one (or a few) specialties? Did they start with one job and change to another? Have you 'homebrewed' their job at all, adding any unique twists or details to it?
----------------------- RELATIONSHIPS & THE WORLD
22. What are their feelings on the Scions? Who are some of their closest allies and dearest friends? Are they more of a loner, or closer to people outside the Scions? Have they kindled any romances or partnerships?
23. How do they feel about getting pulled into politics? Are they adept at navigating political intricacies, or does it go over their head? Do they appreciate getting asked to do more than punch their enemies, or would they really rather just punch their enemies? Are there any areas they like to be particularly involved in?
24. How do they feel about Hydaelyn? What was their perception of the Mothercrystal in the beginning, and how did that change by the end, if at all?
25. Do they have any particular enemies that stand out to them? Someone who inspired a lasting grudge? Our beloved and beloathed antagonists give us plenty of reasons to despise them, but are there any that particularly rubbed your WoL the wrong way? On the other hand, are there villains they can't help but sympathize with, even if it's at odds with the narrative or their allies?
26. What are their thoughts on the Ancients, their way of life, and the world they lived in? Did they sympathize at all with the Ascians, or did learning the truth not influence them in that way?
27. How well known are they? Does everyone know their name as the Warrior of Light, or have they managed to maintain some level of anonymity? Do they prefer it that way, and do they have any struggles resulting from it? (Getting stopped on street corners VS awkwardly avoiding questions.)
----------------------- WHAT'S NEXT
28. What's something they look forward to? Exploring the stars, more of a place we've already been, or somewhere we haven't? Or do they look forward to retirement, starting a business with their craft of choice, or any other little old thing?
29. How do they feel heading into Dawntrail? Excited? Exhausted? What do they think of the promises of adventure to come, and their role to play? If you're using a new character, do you have any idea how they'll end up on this path, and where is their headspace starting out?
30. What are they going to be doing while waiting for the ship to Tural?
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merakiui · 1 year
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eden.
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yandere!rollo flamme x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, non-con, captivity, obsession, menophilia/period sex, vague references to the story of adam & eve note - a self-indulgent paradise crafted by rollo's generous, gracious hand.
Silvery slivers of moonlight spill through the space in the curtains, illuminating the fluffy sheets you’re currently entangled in. A sharp sting in your abdomen rouses you from your dreamless slumber, so agonizing it causes you to slowly curl in on yourself. Miserable and defeated, you groan and bury your face in the neighboring pillow. Now muffled, the sound can only carry on for however much capacity your lungs possess. It eventually fizzles out into a solemn, silent resignation that forces you to accept the third day of the monthly curse that is the menstrual cycle.
It’s a natural facet of your biology, but that doesn’t stop you from moping when you register the slick sensation between your legs.
This wouldn’t be an issue if he got me pads or tampons, you think, bitter with resentment and worn to exhaustion even though you’ve only just woken.
Awkwardly, you attempt to sit up and pull the covers back to check the damage. Rollo’s sheets are always spotless and fresh; he washes them every two weeks on Sunday afternoons, dedicated to following his schedule down to the letter. But then the pain persists, stabbing through to your very organs, and you resume your pitiful fetal position in hopes that the severity may abate.
It does, but you think you’re just tricking yourself into believing so.
You can feel the blood soaking through your white nightgown, and the sodden fabric molds itself to your rear in a very unpleasant way. Shuddering, you blink back tears.
I wanna go home.
Home, as it happens, has felt less and less temporary with each passing month spent in Twisted Wonderland. You’ve come to associate the familiarity of Night Raven College and its student body with comfort and contentment. It’s your home away from home. A long, long way from home. But it’s all you’ve ever had since the Dark Mirror beckoned you forth, and it’s served as your solace for a while.
Initially, you felt trapped and alone, uncertain of your fate and what this could mean for your life. But now you realize that no amount of feeling stuck at school could ever compare to this—to real confinement.
Your capture and, subsequently, your captor’s inexplicable infatuation are the result of arbitrary observation. In his frigid, heavy-eyed stare, you fit the criteria for a definition of purity he has constructed for his own abstract conduct. Untouched by magic, unable to conjure even the simplest spell, you are the speck of hope within Pandora’s box—a blessing enshrouded in sin.
“It must be taxing to live amongst mages so often,” he had said, as if to extend sympathy.
Foolishly, not quite understanding where those words were coming from, you replied in jest, “Believe me, it is. The amount of times I’ve nearly been caught in the crossfire when my friends get into heated arguments… Yikes.”
Rollo Flamme is a righteous man, and thus it is his duty to build a pristine paradise for you. An Eden of his own creation, its sole purpose to safeguard you from the pollution that is magic and, by extension, mages.
But purity cannot be found here, for Rollo is a devil in this garden. Potted plants adorn the floor; it’s something of a floral jungle, filling the room with perfumed scents and pretty sights. You’ve made note of their habits—of every flower that wilts and rises once it’s watered, of every petal that pries itself open under the moon’s glow and closes come sunrise, of every stem that’s trimmed to prevent excess.
Rollo Flamme prefers tidy spaces, so this well-kept garden is sterile and peaceful. You’ve likened it to a morgue filled with dead things—or soon-to-be dead things, as most plants cannot thrive forever no matter how diligent the botanist.
He barked a humorless, monosyllabic laugh at your declaration. “Unless you’ve chosen to view yourself as a rotting corpse, which you are not, your comparison is both unwarranted and untrue,” he muttered, and that was the final utterance of that subject.
Conversations with Rollo are always impossible, which is why you’re dreading this next one when he turns the key in the lock. The sound is like a gunshot in an empty room: explosive. As if echoing your discomfort, your cramps worsen in their intensity and you suck in a shaky breath through grit teeth. You hear the door shut and lock, sentencing you to an exchange with an unwanted warden. He walks into a mostly serene scene, his glacial gaze sweeping across the room to pick apart any interruptions in this slice of Shangri-La.
“I’ve brought dinner,” he announces, and you lift your head to peer at the tray in his hands.
“I don’t want your grapes and croissants,” you spit. “I want something warm.”
“It is warm.” Stepping closer, he sets the tray on his desk. You spy wispy tendrils rising from a bowl of soup. “Sit up and eat before it goes cold.”
You attempt that, halfway up on your elbows, but then your abdomen tightens and you slump back into the sheets. “Hurts,” you whine, clutching your stomach.
Rollo sniffs at the air, brows furrowing. His shoes click out an even rhythm against the floorboards, stopping at your bedside. Without ceremony he yanks the duvet away and you hiss at him, humiliated even though it’s normal. Your skin prickles with a chill, and it’s made even worse when you see the fiery glint in his eyes—the perceptive sort of glaze that overtakes his pupils when he’s observing you. His eyes crawl down your figure, stopping at the stain sullying your satin nightgown.
“Ah, you’ve leaked.”
“Obviously,” you snap. “I did this yesterday, too. When are you going to get me pads? Or tampons? I’ll even take a towel at this point or toilet paper. Anything is better than this.”
Rollo shakes his head. “You’re perfectly fine as you are.”
“Free bleeding like this is filthy and unsanitary.”
“So I’ll simply clean you.”
You drag your hand down your face and groan. “Rollo, please. It hurts, and it’s wet and uncomfortable.”
“You’ve illustrated these points more than clearly.”
“So then… Then do something about it!”
He narrows his eyes at you, silently taking issue with your demand, before he hums his consideration. His face settles into something neutral while he removes his hat and shoes, dutifully setting them in their respective places.
Rollo surprises you when he climbs onto the bed, kneeling over you with the tiniest trace of a smile.
“Spread your legs. I’ll have a look.”
Fresh horror blooms on your already distraught countenance. You bickered with him over this yesterday when he’d brought a wet rag to your inner thigh, seething at you to stay still while he wiped you down. You’d wrestled with him for ownership of the rag, insisting in panicked huffs that you could do it yourself. Your slap had rung out in the silence, rendering Rollo stiff with stormy emotions. He’d relinquished the rag, scoffing at you for being ungrateful and resolving to scribble in his diary for the rest of the day—a prisoner to his own silent treatment.
Now, as his cold fingertips creep up your legs, you feel less hungry and more sick.
Weakly, you shake your head at him, sinking deeper into the pillows. “I… I can do it myself…”
“With what? The nightgown you’ve already dirtied?” He tilts his head at you and smiles an odd smile. You can’t place it, whether it’s smug or sweet, but it soon becomes the former when he throws your words right back at you: “That’s filthy and unsanitary.”
“You don’t have anything either,” you retort, only to grimace once more.
Rollo exhales through his nose, amusement flashing in his dreary eyes. “Because I’m not going to clean you. Not yet.”
Ice crystalizes within your veins, and the tension in your legs slackens enough for him to pull them apart. “What?”
His hands stray dangerously close. You stiffen, nerves tangling with panic. “There are ways to alleviate menstrual cramps. You should be aware of them, so I see no need to go into detail.”
“I know, yes, but—” You swallow thickly and push his reaching fingers away before they can curl around the hem of your nightgown. “Rollo, please don’t…”
“You’ll feel better,” he assures you matter-of-factly, whispering the words like that will change anything. “This is better than medicine and safer than magic.”
You shift beneath him, unsettled. “A… A hot compress will do. Y-You’ll get yourself dirty. Also! A-Also… If we don’t wash the sheets soon, it’ll stain.”
“Let it. It will serve as a reminder to both of us. A reminder that, though you may ruin these sheets with all manner of bodily fluids, they will still remain pure.” He lifts your nightgown, leaning close to your ear while palming at your stomach. You angle yourself away from him, eyes squeezed shut. “It’s because you’re perfect and clean, untainted by magic, that you are able to exist here. I envy you…”
His bare hand is cold against your warm belly and it travels lower, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your panties. You stifle a whine, tears welling up behind your eyelids.
“Rollo…”
“Even your voice…” He inhales deeply, high off the scent of you—metallic and pungent, a natural musk more enticing than any flowery perfume. “Everything about you is so clean, even the very blood that pools between your legs… Just a moment in your embrace is enough to wash away the layers of filth that accumulate on my person. Perhaps you might even manage to scrub beneath my skin, wash out every ounce of magic that rests within… Would that I could, I’d break myself into pieces so that you may reassemble me—build a better me. A me without magic. If only…”
His other hand slithers into yours, squeezing tight. You’re arrested by the strain in his tone when he speaks next, so full of yearning and desperation. Covetous. Shameless.
“If only.”
“R-Rollo, please stop…”
“Yes… Yes, of course,” he babbles, nodding to himself. “I’ve likened you to a concept—to purity alone—but you are more than that. The embodiment of it… An angel. Otherworldly, immune to the poisonous effects of magic… Yes, that is what you are. An angel bereft of flaws.”
He fishes his celestial-patterned handkerchief from his pocket and presses it to your lips next. Your eyes snap open to find him now much closer than before, and you have but a moment to brace yourself before he leans in. The kiss is indirect, the both of you separated by the cloth, but the intention is there. It sticks to you even after he’s lowered the handkerchief. You are too pure and he is too filthy, which is why your lips must never touch.
Contradictory because he’s kissed you before.
Rollo drags your blood-soaked panties down to your knees. You shudder like a frail leaf caught in autumn’s harsh breeze.
“I’ve saved you—freed you!—from those…those villains. So you must allow me to indulge.” He shakes his head, his licentious, lustful stare smoldering to such a scorching degree it brands impure, unhealthy love upon your bare flesh. “I will indulge because I have been nothing but agreeable. This—” his fingers brush your slick folds, testing the waters— “is a wonder no magic could ever hope to reproduce. This is just you. Perfect, pretty, pure you…”
Experimentally, his digits dip shallowly inside. You flinch and inhale a sharp, frantic breath, your stomach somersaulting and knotting itself all at once. Complicated feelings stir within you as you writhe under his invasive touch. Your effort to escape is halfhearted; it’s too painful to move, so instead you attempt to clamp your legs shut. He tuts at you and slips his hand out from your hold to pet along your thigh.
“There goes a certain tale,” Rollo says, breathless as he continues his patient exploration. His eyes rove over your pussy like he intends to imprint it in his memory, and he doesn’t shy away from the crimson rivulet that runs down his palm when he sinks his fingers in further. You grit your teeth, melting against the pillows like an angel stamped in snow, and your free hand strangles a fistful of sheets. “In which a pair lived together in paradise, but it was temptation that ultimately led to their downfall. It is a doomed narrative.”
You’re breathing heavily now, your eyes flicking from the ceiling to the many plants that surround you on all sides, each one in full bloom. It feels as if you’re on a bed-turned-boat in a sea of greenery.
A sea of divine fertility.
With a skillful curl the two fingers delve deeper, pressing up against your gummy walls. Against your better judgment, you whine, loud and bawdy. His touch soothes, but then it stings. It makes you want to peel yourself open and step out of your skin so that you may subject it to a vigorous washing. It makes you despise the scent of flowers. It makes you fear the sound of the bell as it tolls unfailingly every single day. It makes you wish you’d never opened your mouth to respond to his words all those weeks ago.
Tears slip from your lash line. “Stop… Please stop…”
“Perhaps this is that same story made modern. Perhaps you were sculpted specially for me and I for you.” A third finger joins the other two working you open. Paper-pale skin is coated in brilliant vermillion, the very color of ardent desire. “Perhaps we are destined to fall together, born anew in someplace purer…”
The slow, steady drag of his fingers is more tempting than the ripe redness between your thighs, and you force yourself to gaze sidelong at the soup sitting abandoned on his desk. He plucks at each of your tangled, dewy strings, unraveling them with graceful strokes, and you’re pulled along on the blissfully uncomfortable current, treading between someplace grounded in reality and fantasy.
From above, at the bird’s eye view, you have become a garden for Rollo’s twisted whimsy.
You return to yourself when he eases his fingers out, stalling for a silent beat, before he thrusts them back in in one fluid motion. It punches the air from your lungs, has you throwing your head back with a weepy howl. He watches this with fierce scrutiny, curious at a clinical level.
“You’re beautiful,” he admits, spreading his fingers inside you. “My world. My panacea. My angel.”
“No… No, no.” You sob, your chest heaving with every wail. You can smell yourself on the air, the sharp scents of iron and sweat. Your pussy weeps blood, devastated at the hands of a monster, and yet it can’t stop affixing itself to him. A mold meant to suit his design. “Please… Please take it out.”
A shadow of contemplation passes over Rollo’s flushed countenance and then he’s reaching over to dry your tears, dabbing at your face with his handkerchief. “You’re okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore, right?”
You shake your head in protest rather than respond, chewing your bottom lip to shreds. A feeble whine slips through and you arch into him when his thumb presses down into your clit and prods at your hood. It happens all too fast. You tighten and loosen all at once, your mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back. The sheets are soaked through and properly soiled now, but that fact doesn’t lessen the seismic ecstasy that drapes itself over you like a veil. Your vision whites out and you fall, fall, fall through the waning vestiges.
Your heart drops into your stomach at the realization.
It doesn’t hurt anymore.
“You’ve done well.” He slides his fingers out, and the gooey squelching wrings a shudder from you. This time he grants you one of his rare smiles—the authentic, sincere kind—while he presses the pads of his fingers to his upturned lips, dyeing himself in your essence. You blink through encroaching tears, an ocean that obscures your vision and fuzzies his figure.
His fingers dig into the plush pudge of your thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles along your adductors. You open yourself again, involuntarily blossoming in this garden of iniquity.
“Good,” he praises again, whisper-soft. “You’re only permitted to be this way with me. Anyone else would simply tarnish your sweetness. They’d take advantage of your ability to cleanse even the foulest of filth. But I…”
Rollo, still clothed and now libidinous in his impatience, fumbles to pull himself free. His throbbing erection presses against your stomach, the final piece to force this puzzle to completion.
“I will always lay myself at your altar.”
You beg him not to, but every objection goes unheard. His hips connect with yours; he’s holding back, if only just barely, pressing onwards slowly, his breath coming in huffs and grunts. To savor it. To know the feeling firsthand and engrave it into his very being, from his fingers to his toes. To immerse himself in the red rain of a shackled angel.
To color a picturesque paradise in cardinal sin.
Just beyond the windows of Eden, swathed in midnight luminescence, a glorious city set aflame burns bright, overtaken by fiery flowers.
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Note
Aemond is soon to be married to a political arrangement by their mother, so for his last unwed nameday, Aegon takes him to an elite brothel on the street of silk. He’s shy and doesn’t know what kind of woman he wants, so the owner of the brothel send him her most expensive girl to seduce him
A short little thing for Aemond (longer requests are coming, don't worry)
Warnings: 18+, prostitution,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Coming to the street of silk was Aegon’s idea. Unlike his brother, Aemond never visited brothels. They never appealed to him. He’d much rather sit in his chamber and read about the history of Valyria than bed a stranger for some gold coins. But Aegon insited that his brother needed to experience the ‘pleasure of fucking’ before he got wed to a highborn woman for the sake of politics. 
Aemond had never seen a more bustling place. The sounds of ambiance music, laughter and whispered promises filled the space, accompanied by lewd moans in some corners. Women were dancing and parading around scantily clothed as men were pawing at them. 
Holding back a grimace, the prince shifted his eye away from them. Despite his discomfort, he held no judgment for the people who made a living here. Not everyone was born in luxury.
Aegon nudged his brother forward. ‘’Pick the woman you want,’’ he urged as they entered.
Cloak still covering his head, Aemond gave him a quiet hum. 
They separated and ventured into the brothel. Women attempted to seduce him, attracted by his tall stature and youthful face, but Aemond politely rejected their advances, not interested.  
He spent a long time looking around, knowing Aegon would never let him leave the brothel without bedding a woman. 
Exploring further, Aemond followed a narrow hallway lined with makeshift rooms crafted from old sheets, offering a semblance of discretion in an otherwise open environment. The muffled sounds of pleasure emanating from behind closed curtains were more explicit, making the prince not want to take a peek. He wasn’t into voyeurism or exhibitionism. 
‘’Found anyone, brother?’’ Aegon asked after a few minutes, already having his own eyes on a few for himself. 
The taller prince shook his head. ‘’I have not…’’ 
Aegon pursed his lips, observing around them. There were women of every body type, age and hair color, why did Aemond have difficulty picking one? 
Then, it struck him. It wasn't a lack of options that troubled Aemond, but rather a mismatch of tastes. Perhaps he would prefer someone more elegant? Aegon searched for Maege, the owner of the brothel and asked if she had a higher priced woman for a special customer. The plump woman smiled, her eyes shifting to the white hair beneath his cloak. She nodded and Aegon handed her a few gold coins. It was much more than she was requesting, but he figured it would buy her silence too.
Maege showed the way to one of the private rooms of the brothel. They were expensive, therefore only used by exclusive customers. 
Aemond thanked Maege as she opened the curtain for him, and told him to get comfortable. The room was about the size of his bathing chamber and had a large canopy bed dressed in red sheets and cushions ornate of a gold trim. Aemong felt like he had been transported to a completely different brothel. Candles were lit on the cherry-wood tables, bringing light to the room. 
As he waited, echoes of other people's pleasure could be heard. Aemond tried to ignore them, telling himself that this will soon be over. 
After a few minutes of waiting, you pulled the curtain open slightly and slipped inside in silence. Maege had given you a couple of rules before she sent you to the private room. 1. Do not ask the customer any personal questions and keep the talking to a minimum. 2. Treat him with your best services. 3. Never mouth to others about his identity.
You assumed he was a Lord, a married man. Not the Prince Aemond.
You curtsied upon recognizing him, bowing your head before straightening up.  
Aemond glanced at you, his good eye surveying your figure from head to toe. Your hair cascaded down your back as if they hadn't been cut in years, rivaling with his own. Your body was covered by a long chiffon shift that didn't leave anything to the imagination. From the color of your nipples to the curve of your hips and even the slit between your legs. 
He inhaled a deep breath. A part of him wanted to dismiss you, or simply sit in silence for long enough to trick Aegon that he fucked you, but something about you was calling to him.  
‘’What do you want me to do, my Prince?’’ you asked, your peaked nipples poking against the thin, pale fabric. 
House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection
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whimsiwitchy · 1 month
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𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱...
Hi everyone, welcome to my blog. Here you can find all of my work by person/character. Each fic has its description and warning under the link. Enjoy <3
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Pedro Pascal
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i hear the secrets that you keep
series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything. Warnings: plus size afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, swearing, age gap (24/14 years), descriptions of the female body, use of the word fat, descriptions of a bigger body (stretch marks, cellulite, rolls, etc.), descriptions of nudity, sexual themes. 
Hugh Jackman
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Controversially Young Girlfriend
summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men.  warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, fighting (verbal).
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smellysluna · 2 months
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Could you write an Adrien x reader imagine where they’re forced to date by their parents to promote an upcoming fashion collaboration something, and then go from hating each other and being super fake to falling in love for real?
You know what? I postponed this ask waaaay to much. So what did I do? I sat down and took up your challenge. Go and enjoy the story you asked for but I never put the effort to make - until now e.e
warnings? no warnings apply :p
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You always thought arranged dates were a relic of the past, something that only happened in old movies or distant cultures. Yet here you were, sitting across from Adrien Agreste, the face of the Agreste fashion empire.
Your parents have arranged this meeting to promote an upcoming collaboration between their brands, hoping the buzz around your "relationship" would skyrocket their sales.
Adrien looked perfect, as always—his blond hair artfully tousled, green eyes bright but distant. Always maintaining the perfect façade. Unlike you, painfully aware of every imperfection and every nervous gesture.
"Let's get one thing straight," Adrien said, breaking the silence. His voice was calm but firm. "We don’t have to like each other, but we do have to make this work."
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance. "Agreed. Let's just get through this."
For the next hour, you both put on a show for the paparazzi lurking outside, sharing forced smiles and rehearsed lines. The whole encounter felt like a poorly scripted play, and you couldn't wait for it to end.
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of public appearances, photo shoots, and meticulously planned dates. Your parents had spared no expense in crafting the perfect narrative: two young heirs, brought together by fate and fashion. But behind the scenes, your interactions with Adrien were cold and apathetic.
One evening, after yet another tedious event, you found yourself walking alone in the Agreste mansion. The luxury of the place was suffocating, each room a reminder of the pressure you were under.
You wandered into the library, seeking solace among the rows of books.
"You like to read?" Adrien's voice startled you.
You turned to find him leaning against the doorway, a curious look on his face. "Yeah," you admitted. "It's one of the few ways I can escape."
He nodded, stepping into the room. "I get that. Sometimes I feel like my whole life is scripted. But I prefer watching anime to get some distraction." And patrolling as Chat Noir, though he wasn’t about to expose his best-kept secret to you.
For a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and it struck a chord within. Maybe you weren't so different after all.
As the days passed, the cracks in your mutual disdain began to show. You still argued over trivial things and maintained a facade of disinterest, but there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when you glimpsed the real Adrien beneath his polished exterior.
One afternoon, you were both at a photoshoot for the collaboration campaign. The theme was a romantic picnic, complete with a vintage blanket and a basket of props. The director called for a break, and you and Adrien found yourselves alone in the park.
"Here," Adrien said, handing you a water bottle. "You look like you could use this."
"Thanks," you replied, surprised by the gesture. "I didn't expect you to be so… thoughtful."
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."
He hesitated, then said, "Like how terrible I am at cooking. I once set the kitchen on fire trying to make toast."
You laughed, picturing the usually composed Adrien in such a chaotic situation. "Seriously? Toast?"
He grinned, a little sheepishly. "Yeah, it was pretty bad. I had to call the fire department and everything. My father was not impressed."
You chuckled, the tension between you easing a bit. "Well, remind me never to let you near my kitchen."
He laughed along with you, the sound genuine and warm. "Deal. And maybe one day you can teach me how to make toast without causing a disaster."
One day, after a particularly exhausting photoshoot, Adrien and you found yourselves with a rare afternoon off. Deciding to make the most of it, you both ended up in the Agreste mansion's sprawling garden. The setting was beautiful and serene, a perfect escape from the public eye.
As you wandered through the lush greenery, admiring the flowers, you suddenly felt a cold splash of water on your neck. You turned around to see Adrien standing there, a mischievous grin on his face and a small water gun in his hand.
"Did you just...?" you began, but before you could finish, he squirted you again, laughing.
"Lighten up!" he teased. "It's just a bit of water."
You couldn't help but laugh, the unexpected prank breaking through the formality that often hung between you. "Oh, you're going to regret that!" you said, grabbing a nearby watering can and splashing him back.
What ensued was a playful water fight, with both of you dodging and splashing, laughing like carefree kids. It felt liberating to let go and just have fun, forgetting about the pressures and expectations that usually weighed you down.
Finally, drenched and out of breath, you both collapsed onto the grass, still giggling.
"Okay, I have to admit, that was pretty fun," you said, wiping water from your face.
Adrien smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "See? I knew you had it in you."
"Just don't make a habit of it," you warned playfully. "Or I might have to come up with a prank of my own."
"I'd like to see you try," he challenged, his grin widening.
As you lay there, catching your breath, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen Adrien truly relax and let his guard down. It made it more obvious that he's not just a perfect, polished model, but a real person who wants to laugh and have fun.
As the collaboration launch approached, your relationship with Adrien grew deeper. You began to spend more time together, not just for the cameras, but because you genuinely enjoyed each other's company. You talked about everything—your favourite anime, your dreams, your fears, your hopes for the future.
One day, you were both at a charity event for Adrien's school, where he introduced you to his friends. Nino, Marinette, Alya—they were welcoming and kind, and you felt a pang of envy at the close-knit group they formed.
"You're lucky to have such great friends," you said to Adrien as you watched them from a distance.
"I know," he replied, a fond smile on his face. "They keep me grounded."
"Tell me more about them," you urged.
He did, and as he spoke, you saw a different side of him—one that was caring, loyal, and deeply connected to those he loved. It made you like him even more.
The night of the collaboration launch arrived, and the event was a resounding success. The venue was abuzz with excitement, filled with influential guests, dazzling lights, and the perfect blend of glamour and sophistication. Your parents were thrilled, the media couldn't get enough, and every detail had gone off without a hitch.
After a whirlwind of interviews, photos, and obligatory mingling, you and Adrien finally managed to slip away to a quiet balcony overlooking the city. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the heat and noise inside.
"We did it," you said, raising your glass to him. The city lights reflected in your eyes, adding a sparkle that matched your mood.
"Yeah, we did," he agreed, clinking his glass with yours. His smile was genuine, not just for the cameras this time. "But I want to tell you something."
You raised an eyebrow, heart beating, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What's that?"
He took a deep breath, looking out over the city before turning back to you. "I don't want this to end. This whole thing. I know it started as a publicity stunt, but somewhere along the way, it became real for me."
Your heart skipped a beat. "I...". The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. "I actually feel the same way," you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth on your face.
He laughed, a light, joyful sound that made your heart flutter. "Good. Because pretending to be in love with you was starting to feel way too easy."
You blushed, a mix of relief and happiness washing over you. "So, what now?"
Adrien stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. "Let's stop pretending and see where this takes us. For real this time."
Adrien stepped closer, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Now," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "we make this real."
Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment. You could feel the genuine emotion behind his kiss, a stark contrast to the rehearsed displays of affection you'd shown the world.
As the kiss deepened, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. The kiss was intoxicating, filled with all the feelings you'd both been holding back.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Adrien rested his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed, his voice full of warmth.
"Me too," you replied, feeling a flutter of joy.
The pressures of your parents and the fashion world still loomed, but they felt more manageable with Adrien by your side.
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dyeher · 10 months
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includes| Akaashi Keiji x Fem! Reader x Bokuto Koutaro— smut(1.3k words)
warnings| Oral Sex, Cum Play, Anal Fingering, Degradation, Mentions of Cucking, Mentions of Orgasm Denial, Mentions of Overstimulation, Dom/Sub Relationships.
notes| mean akaashi my beloved.
people regularly made the mistake of accusing akaashi of being the sane one in your relationship. his refined features, lean build, and gentle demeanor usually gave the illusion of elegance, propriety, vanilla. the assumption that a man who preferred to read and write in his spare time was boring was so, incredibly wrong. boring?
he was not.
akaashi keiji, behind the mahogany doors of your shared bedroom was a tyrant, a madman, an unforgiving dictator. the worst kind of leader. it was especially bad when he found one of his meticulously crafted rules were broken. there were three of them, two of which were assigned punishments and one that was left up in the air. open to anything.
rule 1: no one cums before you. the bane of koutaro’s existence is that once his dick gets anywhere near your soft walls, or your equally soft lips he’s left brainless. hyper-focused on the feel of them around him, and this leads to him cumming early. it’s almost like he can’t help it. punishment is overstimulation. the pro-athlete is strapped to a chair, a vibrator tied to the shaft of his cock, and left to stare in agony as akaashi eats you out, sucks and fingers at your pulsing walls until you scream koutaro’s name. koutaro is allowed to cum, as many times as he likes, and punishment usually ends when his orgasms come dry and leave him sobbing akaashi’s name.
“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” he sobs, “won’t do it again, ‘kaashi, ‘kaashi please, ‘m sorry.”
rule 2: no toys without supervision. you’re dating a manga editor and a professional athlete, not only are they busy often but, you make it an unfortunate habit of not saying anything when you feel neglected. this is where the trouble starts. you always end up sitting on the bed, the black box in your lap chewing on your lip as you consider how much time you have to get yourself off before one of them gets home. if it’s kou, then maybe you can guilt trip him into forgiving you but, if it’s akaashi? punishment involves denial.
you’re not allowed anywhere near their cock for the next seven days. they’ll play with you as they like though; keiji runs long fingers through your folds, teases at your hole absentmindedly, stuffs you with his favorite dildo, and watches your cunt flutter around the glass while koutaro fucks him on your shared bed; koutaro lets you watch as he fucks his fist in the shower, slaps your hand away when you reflexively reach out to help him, sucks on your nipples and litters your pretty skin with his marks but, ultimately leave you unfulfilled. on day eight you’re fucked senseless, made love to slowly, eaten out, doted on, whispered to, worshipped. their way of reminding you what they can do toys cannot.
rule 3: no lying. situations like these were when the real monster came out. an akaashi who took his glasses off before getting to the bedroom was a dangerous one. it was a stupid little lie, supposedly a prank that you and kou had dreamed up but, it had stressed akaashi out and now? now you were going to be punished.
“on your knees,” his voice is deceptively calm, like the lull in the seas before a tsunami, the silence of birds in the trees before a storm. “take me out, suck me off until I say to stop.”
koutaro scrambles to undo the waist of akaashi’s slacks and drag his dick free of it’s confines, he’s soft and koutaro instinctively leans in to run his tongue along it. it twitches, and koutaro hums.
“i don’t want to hear those; don’t hum, don’t moan,” akaashi sighs, “just, shut the fuck up, and suck my dick.”
you gulp where you’re kneeling next to kou, you can see the way he swallows around the head of akaashi’s cock and your pussy weeps a little at how badly he’s going to punish you. he’s moved your antics to the living area, so your knees are probably going to bruise from the rug under them but, you stay silent because you’ve not been addressed; you listen, to the wet sounds of koutaro choking on the pretty head of keiji’s dick.
you glance up to find glacial eyes trained on you. his lips are parted, and you can see that he’s breathing heavily.
“are you going to let him do all the work?” he asks. “get over here.” he shoves koutaro’s head off and motions for you to get closer. “you can both do it.”
kou watches from the other side of akaashi’s cock as you lick a long strip up the shaft and suckle the head into your mouth, he leans in and joins in, bringing one hand up to cup akaashi’s balls, as he sucks at the base and shaft. you pull back as one to run your tongues along the bottom. they rub against the heated flesh and each other, and akaashi moans at the sight.
“fuck,” he groans. “the only thing you’re good at-” kou gives a particularly hard suck at the base at the same time you dip lower to take one of his balls into your mouth and he whines, “-shit, being my little cock suckers, it’s the only thing.”
your lips and mouth are stained with akaashi’s pre-cum so are koutaro’s. by the time akaashi cums along both your tongues where they’re sticking out next to each other, koutaro’s cock is leaking everywhere and your cunt is soaked.
kou turns to you, tongue coated in cum and grabs you by the back of your head and shoves it against yours. your mind hazes, thoughts going cloudy; only akaashi’s cum mixed with kou’s saliva as it swishes around your mouth mixing with yours.
you moan as his tongue swirls around yours, the actions forces you to swallow the concoction and you’re just about to climb into him, when you’re separated by a harsh tug on your hair. your neck protests at the rough handling, your scalp burns but, the pain goes straight to your throbbing clit.
“always so selfish,” akaashi hisses. his cock twitches against his stomach when you let out twin sobs. “you’re not getting anything tonight.” he points out. “don’t do shit to make me angrier, who said you could use my cum like that?”
when no answer comes, he lets go of your hair with a shove. “get me the silicone dildo in the safe koutaro. the one with the vibrating head, and the lube,” he says, and you lock eyes with kou for a second. kou opens his mouth to tell akaashi that doesn’t sound like a punishment, and you slap a palm over his mouth.
“he’ll do it,” you say, “he’ll get it.”
akaashi laughs. “yes, he will.”
you’re concerned about the way akaashi’s smug smile grows wider when koutaro returns with it.
“i’ll be using it on myself,” he smiles. “you’ll sit over there and watch,” he motions to the other side of the room the matching armchairs stare back. “if I can’t make myself cum,” he tuts, “well, i have a few friends who’re willing to help.”
koutaro chokes, and you sink to your ass on the floor with a whimper, “’kaash-”
“sit, and watch,” he says, the hard edge to his voice has you both scrambling to the other side of the room. “if i don’t come, i’ll call osamu,” he chuckles, and koutaro glares at him from across the room, “him and suna would take care of me,” he sighs.
“we’re so-”
“i know, and after this you’ll think really hard about what you do and say without me,” he snarls the words and goosebumps erupt across your chest. “lying to me? what did you call it? a prank?” his laugh is hollow. “it’s almost like, my rules mean nothing to you.”
he’s stripped fully, and settled onto his knees on the couch, face down into the cushions.
“let’s hope i can make myself cum,” he groans as one of his fingers disappears into his ass. “otherwise…” he doesn’t have to say anything. both you and kou know he’d do it, this isn’t akaashi that they can argue with, this is the tryant.
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