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pricetagged · 2 months ago

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Here's a young (maybe 19-early 20s) Simon struggling with his emotions, working as a butcher's apprentice, and fixating on the pretty student waitress at the café next door (':

Content: plus size f-presenting reader; allusions to domestic abuse (Simon's past); fat-shaming (not Simon); little bit of violence, unedited. (Link to Ao3)

He's not sure that it counts as desire. Interest. It crawls over him, makes him feel aggressive, makes him want to dig his teeth in and shake and snarl.

It's hunger.

And he knows hunger. Knows it like he knows the cigarette burns on the back of his hand. Knows it like he knows his old man's a waste of space and that he has to defend his mum and protect Tommy and- and-

He's the man of the house, only the house is rotten. Woodloused frames, crumbling bricks. Gutted. Empty shelves hidden behind broken doors. Chipped plaster, electricity cutting off. Squeaky steps that always clued them in when the old man was on a rager (not that it helped, creaking out a warning but giving no clue where to run. The percussion leading to a gallows' jig; the heavy step before the hit).

But the old man's gone now. And Simon is left trying to fill in the boots he doesn’t know how to wear. All growth spurt and gangly limbs and anger. So much anger at the old bastard. Tear-soaked anger at his mum sometimes (buried deep behind the shame that he feels when he thinks of her black and blue. Anger and shame, bitter roots that he chews at to soothe the clench of in his jaw and the grind of his teeth). And then he sees you through the window. Through the peeling CHRISTMAS SPECIAL sign highlighting ham joints and turkey and pigs in blankets.

You're so soft.

You look like you’ve lived a life well-fed and well-loved. Something round and sweet and helpless, like the puppies he and Tommy had seen dumped in the park while they snuck cigarettes and swigged from cheap supermarket cider.

And that brings him back to the hunger. He's an awkward creature, shuffling to the café where you work part-time. He's more feeling than man, all rage and appetite stuffed into a skin suit. You sense it too, nerves tugging at the tilt of your smile as you approach the scavenger that swept in to sit at the cheap plastic tables in this greasy spoon. He sits awkwardly, too, hunched over the table like his stomach is gnawing at him. Big hands snapping the disposable plastic coffee stirrers and shredding the napkins. That first day, he just stares at you. Sneers a little when you flutter over to take his order.

You slosh the tea a little when you serve it.

He sees the burn bloom, watches as you suck at the sting with plump cheeks and a rosy little mouth, and he just wants to dig in and scratch hard to see you do that again.

It becomes a habit, watching you. He finds out bits and pieces listening as he rends and chops and saws through muscle and bone, stinking of sweat and iron. You're here as a student. You're living in student digs (good, best that you avoid the up-and-downs and rough streets that would fit a student budget), and you're a real sweetheart. Old Sal who has been running the café for the past 30 years leans a heavy elbow on the display counter as he chats with the boss.

"She's lovely, taken to it like a fish to water," his raspy, smoke-charred voice is cheery as he waits for the bacon and sausages to be weighed and wrapped. "Only asked for Thursdays and Fridays off since she has afternoon classes then. Otherwise, I almost have to round her out of the shop, doing more afternoons and weekends than my own kid."

You're hardworking too, then. He wonders if it's because you're hungry too, needing something to do with your time, living on pot noodles and supermarket ready-meals like he'd heard some students do. It's strange how that thought sits uncomfortably, makes him want to hunch over you and bring you his scraps.

That week, he decides to talk to you. Only the words get caught, don't come out quite right as he stares at the way your jumper clings to the soft curves under your faded apron. When you turn around, bustling to other customers, he can't help but stare at the line of your skirt. It's real pretty, decent, sitting just above your knees but Christ, he wishes that it would roll up a little higher. That it would catch on the corner of a table or hitch up as you raise your arms and swish past with a tray full of fry-ups. He almost gets lucky as you bend over to mop up a spill just across the room. Your thighs widen as they press against the table, tights stretching thin and sheer and he just can't tear his eyes away-

(The hunger in his stomach turns hot and biting, makes his cheeks flush and his mouth dry-)

But it's ruined. Fly in the soup, hair in the dish, as you catch him and your eyebrows pinch together as you look away. There's something guarded, bitter, in your lovely eyes, and the dryness in his mouth turns wet and sour. You seem to take pains to avoid him, swapping out with Sal's son so that you can work the counter instead of the floor.

"'m Simon," he grunts as he goes to settle the bill. "Work at the butcher's across the street."

You clearly didn’t expect an introduction, shoulders relaxing and hesitant smile blooming as you give your name in return.

"Yeah, I know. Sal mentioned you a few times. He's tried to give me the rundown of practically everyone on the street, feels like."

"Y'should come in t'the shop," the invitation rushes out in a way that makes him feel clumsy. Perhaps that’s why he did it; to have you in his space, with his head and his footing right. Here, he feels every inch the artificial man. Pieced together, too big and too looming, with no help or guidance on how to talk to soft things and pretty girls.

You grimace a little, eyes focused on the till as you count out his change. "Not really on a butcher-shop budget right now."

"'S'alright. I can keep something aside for ya," he doesn't mention how it would come out of his wages. How it would come out of what he brought home to his mum and Tommy. It didn't matter, though, when he was used to going without.

"That's - that's really nice, actually," Your sweet face is glowing now, and he feels like he could bathe in the warmth of it. "Next time you come by lunch is on me."

He sees the way you tuck your chin and smile as he walks away, and that bottomless pit in his guts feels just a little more full.

(He doesn't quite catch the snickers of the boys at table three, whispering and nudging each other as you come to take their orders. This time.)

He stares more and more through the window of the shop, watching as you come and go. Watching the way you greet the regulars and skirt around the group of lads who like to linger in the evenings. There's something sharp, nasty, to the way they circle around the entrance. The way they cackle and hoot when the one with the eyebrow piercing smirks and whispers to his mates as they force you to brush past. They're a pack of hyenas, shrieking and smug as they toy with the poor little thing that's walked past their watering hole. He's seen this type before, practically grew up with them. His old man was probably one of them, perfecting his cruelty while young, cementing it as part of his nature.

It has Simon sharpening his knives while he grits his teeth. Has the boss tutting at him when he cuts too close to the bone.

He knows there's something violent in him. The old man tried to bring it out then snuff it out, getting scared when the knife that he sharpened was able to cut him in return. He's no stranger to bloodshed. No stranger to the calloused, deprivation-dimmed apathy that breeds like algae in the environment where he was forged. Dripping, slimy, suffocating.

Doesn't mean he likes it, though.

(He'd gone back for those puppies, you know. Felt wrong leaving them. Felt like a rebellion against his old man's sick life lessons as he dumped the box outside the doors of a local veterinary clinic).

So he keeps his eyes peeled, stakes out the café like he owns it. Stares down anyone who looks at you wrong until they look away, muttering under their breath. 'Fucking freaky dead-eyed git.' It seems to work.

And you seem to like it, sparing more smiles for him. Bringing him bigger portions than normal and topping up his cup before he even needs to ask.

"I know you've been working since seven, Simon. Gotta keep your strength up," You seem bashful as you slide the plate across, and he just eats it up.

You've been looking at him, thinking about him. It's not something he's familiar with, having someone care for him. His mum loves him, of course. Tommy too. But it’s not the same, not when it's been his job to take care of them. His job to step up to the mantle and into the shoes that his father should've filled. Watching the sway of your wide hips as he tucks into the steak and kidney pie with gusto, he feels satisfied. The hunger is there, always is, but it's not gouging at him under the skin. It's satiated, pleased. The kind of comfort that leaves his eyes heavy and his belly warm.

It's a routine you fall into, and everything is rosy-

Until it's not.

He's closing up shop, wiping down the counters and getting ready to haul down the shutters when he sees them. Those stupid pricks, travelling in their pack and signaling that their quarry is in sight. Look, there it is alone and limping and- You're in a rush, leaving later than usual and shrugging your coat on carelessly as you shout your goodbyes to Sal. You're in that skirt again, the one that makes his lower belly tighten and mouth feel dry.

"Oi, look! Dirty scrubber has her fat arse hanging out!"

It sets them off, chittering and howling as you freeze wide-eyed and lip-quivering.

"Gonna be sick, mate. Don't want to see your knickers, love. Didn't even know they came in that size."

He doesn't even see red. Doesn't see anything but your pretty, round face crumpling as you try to tug your skirt out from where it got caught under your coat.

The ringing of the bell by the door muffles the sound of the first punch. His fist crunches into that prick's nose, and he wants nothing more than to keep going until his face is little more than meat and pulp and blood. He can taste it, smells the blood in the air like a shark.

But you're watching.

"Bit bored with y'taking the piss out of her," he snarls it as he hauls the man by his jacket, shoving him hard against the wall until his head thwacks against the bricks. Easy as hauling a side of beef. "Why don't ya try me next?"

The man seems dazed, head spinning and nose dripping. His mates, too, look floored. Ready to scatter and abandon their leader to the bigger beast. Only the promise of more blood keeps them watching, feeds their nasty appetites and he's just itching to let them see. Watch what happens; it's coming for you next.

"Speechless now, eh? Had so much to say earlier," he's spitting the words out, teeth snapping as he leans down so close to the man's face that he can see how his pupils constrict. "Apologise."

And he's smarter than he would give him credit for. Smart enough to whimper out his 'sorry, sorry, sorry' as he drops to the filthy, damp pavement when Simon swivels towards the others. Something about the set of his shoulders, the way his hands and apron are splattered with the gore of man and animal, has them scattering.

"That goes for the rest of ya! Don't ever want t'see your ugly fucking mugs around here again," he spits on the ground, itches at his jaw with his wrist as he watches them run.

He can't hear them anymore. Can't hear anything over the sound of his heavy panting and pounding heartbeat.

It's cold out. He's only realising it now, standing in the December chill with just an apron over his jeans and t-shirt. It has him shaking, flexing his hand as his knuckles start to sting and swell. He welcomes it, welcomes the familiar bite as he pushes down the savage, ragged anger rippling through his chest.

"Simon-"

"Y'alright?" he cuts you off, faces you head-on.

And all the rage saps out. You're not cowering away. There's no disgust on your face. No tears or embarrassment either, no. You've got a crumpled packet of wet wipes in your hand, reaching out for him. Concerned.

"Figure you'd want to get that prick's blood off you soon as possible," you give him a sad little half-smile. "Didn't have to do all that for me, Simon."

"Yeah, didn't have to." He concedes as he steps closer to you. Crowds into your space until you're toe-to-toe and he can feel your warmth. He brushes his fingers against yours, lets them linger on your soft skin as he reaches for the wipes. "I wanted to."

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Let's all pretend that this was okay and ignore the fact that I still haven't posted the wips that I keep going on about 🫠💖

Just a little self-indulgent drabble idea that I had today, thinking back to watching 'My Mad Fat Diary' as a teenager, feeling nostalgic ~ (The Finn-defending-Rae scene had 18yo me in a chokehold lol).

#you have a sweet little blossoming romance until tommy starts acting up and simon joins the army #but youre his first love and who knows...there may be a future for you years down the line #when old grizzled simon spots a familiar pretty face walking the streets of manchester while he's on leave #and really，him watching you and looking out for you is a relationship tradition at this point (:#idk im not confident with this and its not great but the idea was lingering and idk self indulgent #simon riley cod #simon “ghost” riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley/reader #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod imagine #báirseach writes #cw implied abuse #cw fatphobia

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago

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Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter

Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught

Part 2 // Part 3

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James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.

It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.

This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.

He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.

Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.

It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”

“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.

Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.

James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”

Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.

The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.

“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”

“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.

James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.

Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.

“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”

Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.

“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.

Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.

“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.

They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.

James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

“So what did you think-”

James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.

Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.

Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.

As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.

However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.

Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.

You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.

He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.

“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.

You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.

James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.

You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.

As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.

His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.

As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.

Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.

James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear.

“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.

His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.

“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.

James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.

James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”

#james potter #james potter smut #james potter x reader #james potter one shot #harry potter smut #harry potter #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2023

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maenefa · 16 days ago

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Why does Eowyn want to die?

Because Aragorn won’t love her? Because she feels trapped in her feminine gender role?

These are the explanations we get in the text. However, none of the characters really acknowledge Eowyn’s darkest fear: being taken alive by the enemy.

There are some bad takes on Eowyn that boil down to patronizing her and downplaying the seriousness of her problems. People say that she had a naive desire for glory and Faramir teaches her that war isn’t actually fun. Then there’s the whole “Eowyn was a deserter who selfishly ran away from her duty” argument.

You can only say these things if you ignore how dire the situation was, how close Sauron was to winning, and how gruesome Eowyn’s fate would have been if he won. She knew that death or capture likely awaited her, and she knew that dying in battle was the least bad option. (She also knew her own worth and believed that she was too useful a warrior to be left behind with the civilians. And she was right.)

Eowyn’s actions are ruthlessly practical! She wants to die fighting because that’s better than waiting around for The Horrors. Let’s be real, Eowyn is too sensible to be suicidal over an unrequited crush.

Here are some of her most revealing quotes:

“All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honor, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.”

“And those who have not swords can still die upon them.”

“Nor is it always evil to die in battle, even in bitter pain. Were I permitted, in this dark hour I would choose the latter.”

“But I do not desire healing…. I wish to ride to war like my brother Éomer, or better like Théoden the king, for he died and has both honour and peace.”

In the end. Eowyn only stops wanting to die after Sauron is defeated. Just before the Ring is destroyed, she tells Faramir:

“I stand upon some dreadful brink, and it is utterly dark in the abyss before my feet, but whether there is any light behind me I cannot tell. For I cannot turn yet. I wait for some stroke of doom.”

Eowyn can’t turn to light and life until the war is over. Hope is too painful; death at least offers “honor and peace.” This passage is so important because it EXPLICITLY links Eowyn’s despair to the outcome of the war and makes it clear that she is not simply having a meltdown because Aragorn rejected her.

There are two important moments where Eowyn is threatened with violence. The very first time we meet her, we are told by Gandalf that Wormtongue planned to turn her into a sex slave after Saruman conquered Rohan. Even though this threat is dismissed quickly, it’s a disturbing reminder of what could happen to Eowyn if Sauron wins.

Then we have the most triumphant moment of Eowyn’s story: her battle with the Witch King. Once again, Eowyn is not threatened with death, but with captivity and torment:

“Come not between the Nazgûl and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shrivelled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye.”

Eowyn laughs at him and makes sure to announce that she is a woman before killing him. Her victory is all the more satisfying because the Witch King has just threatened her with captivity, loss of agency, the violation of her body and mind—all threats that Eowyn has faced before. But the Witch King’s words continue to haunt Eowyn and us. He threatens to withhold death; and death is therefore framed as an escape, a gift. Eowyn is taken to the Houses of Healing, but she is obsessed with returning to battle and fighting until she dies.

When Eowyn says that she fears “a cage,” this is a brilliantly simple metaphor for the entire spectrum of oppression she has faced: from the well-meaning restrictions of her culture to the horrifying enslavement threatened by Wormtongue.

Once the war is over, Eowyn is able to laugh at her fears. She teases Faramir: “And would you have your proud folk say of you: there goes a lord who tamed a wild shieldmaiden of the North!” Her fear of being caged has been turned into a bit of flirtatious banter. She feels completely safe with Faramir, and the idea that he “tamed” her is nothing but a joke between them.

#eowyn #tolkien #lotr

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willowedspirits · 8 months ago

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Hollow Knight Linked Universe AU! I've finally finished it!

If you don't know much about Hollow Knight, a lot of the technicalities might not make sense, and I would encourage you to look into the game. Or you could just enjoy the chain as bugs and see them off on their buggy adventures!

I've made this AU trying to keep as close as I can to Hollow Knight's story, but some creative liberties were of course taken.

My main idea is that the infection is the equivalent to Dark Link's (who does exist in this) infected monsters and it's up to them to try and slow/stop the infection. My first thought was to have the infection start to spread outside of Hallownest, and the chain needs to go and stop it, but I'm still going back and forth on it.

I'm still open to changing concepts if I find something that works better, but after literal months of working on this on and off I'm happy with how this has turned out!

Rambling about character details below!

Small note: I've set this AU at roughly the start of the infection, when Radiance was starting to take over Hallownest.

Time

Is not from Hallownest. He traveled to Hallownest from a distant land, where he met Malon and settled down with her.

He encountered Radiance upon entering Hallownest, but was protected by a god that had already laid claim to him, Fierce Deity, who protects him from the Radiance's infection.

He and Malon live in the Howling Cliffs.

His wing and antenna injury are from Radiance when she tried to infect him.

He is not able to fly because of the injury, and now fights with a heavy nail.

His wings used to be green, but after encountering the Fierce Deity, they slowly started to change in color until they were blue.

I'm not sure if I would do anything with the eyes on his wings, I was trying to make a connection to Majora in that, but I'm still debating whether to add it.

Twilight

Is a part of the Traitor Mantis tribe that lives in the Queen's Garden.

He met a Sibling (Midna) that escaped from the Abyss. They gave him the ability to harness Void.

Still working on the detail for how exactly they give him this ability, but my rough idea is that perhaps both of them were attacked by and infected villager, and they saved him by giving up their Void essence.

He's grown up wanting to be infected by the Radiance. He was taught the Radiance was a god that gave bugs great strength, but after seeing what the infection really does, he starts to have second thoughts.

The cloak he is wearing is new. The one he wore before was damaged. I'm still debating on when exactly he gets it, but I think it's something he makes after he leaves the traitor village.

Warriors

He is the head knight of the Hive and oversees whoever enters their territory.

His scarf is a gift from the princess of the Hive given to him when he leaves to join the group.

Since he is a bee, he is connected to the Hive via the hivemind. He uses this to check in on his home whenever he can.

This also makes it very dangerous if he gets infected, since it would quickly spread to the other bee's.

I kept his nail the same as Hive Knight's, but it's open to change.

Four

(I'm still very iffy on Four's story concept, but here's what I have so far)

Lives in Green Path.

He has a passion for weapon smithing, and planned on moving to the capital of Hallownest (City of Tears).

But he accidently stumbled on a weak Unn, and agreed to help protect her while she recovered.

When she did recover, she blessed him with a power that allows him to split into 4 parts of himself using his SOUL.

He can split while in the physical world, but will always be split while in the Dream realm. This also makes it difficult for Radiance to infect him.

Wind

Lives in the Kingdom's Edge and works as a guide across the acid lakes. Most of the travelers are those who are seeking to fight in the Colosseum of Fools.

This is how he found the Colosseum, and regularly attends (but not participate in) some of the fights, which is how he meets Tetra.

He is just learning to fly, but is picking it up really fast.

I wanted to keep the lobster apart of his design... But there are no lobsters in Hollow Knight... Then I remembered this was an AU and I can do what I want with it. So lets just pretend that Lobsters are seen as these awesome ancient beings that he wishes to see one day.

Wild

He was a guardian of the Beast's Den before he became infected, leaving the Den to reside somewhere in Deep Nest.

He is cured by the Dream Nail when the group meets him, and the last to join.

His shell is cracked and damaged because of the infection. The cracks have healed over time, but will never go away.

He has trouble with his memory due to being infected for so long before being cured. He is slowly regaining his memory, but there are still a lot of pieces missing.

His infection spread through to his arm, but is hidden under his cloak.

He uses his nails almost as throwing needles.

Legend

Is a shop owner in Hallownest's capital. He sells all kinds of items from all across Hallownest, small things he's found that could be valuable.

He's managed to make his way into the upper class of the capital due to his shop. His cloak is a modified version of the upper-class wardrobe. He dyed and added the hood himself.

Has a great sense of exploration, and has been all over Hallownest, but still has some places he needs to check off.

His jewelry are all gifts from Ravio.

My original concept for his design was to give him 4 arms. I was thinking of the Collector when designing him, and thought it fit. But after working on finalizing the design, I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I still love the concept though.

Hyrule

(Again, I don't have a clear story concept for him but I have some notes)

Lives in the Ancient Basin.

Has learned how to use SOUL, and is in hiding from the residents of the Soul Sanctum because of it.

He has access to spells and is able to heal himself using SOUL.

I originally gave him a cloak, but couldn't decide if he looked better with or without it. So he does have it, but only sometimes.

Sky

Is the wielder of the Dream Nail, which can be used to cure infected bugs by purging the Radiance from their dream's.

Has wanted to learn to fight with a nail since he was little, and would practice his skills.

He learned about the Dream Nail after some of the moth tribe became infected. He left shortly after he learned this infection was spreading through Hallownest, with the goal of stopping it.

He isn't the only one that can use the Dream Nail, but is the one dubbed the "owner" of it.

And that's what I've got!

I didn't go much into Dark Link here, but would be happy to show some concepts I have for him as well if anybody is curious. I'm making him almost like a living version of the Radiance's infection, and is able to spread it from bug to bug without needing to access their dreams. This is mainly why I'm torn on having them leave Hallownest. If Dark Link could spread the infection to farther lands, or to keep him inside Hallownest and just spread it faster there.

I thought that using the Dream Nail was a good equivalent to the Master Sword here, so I just mashed them together, and a lot of the motivations for the chain trying to stop the infection is "I'm seeing this awful thing happen to these bugs that I don't want to see happen to others," with some small variations here and there.

I've been working on this for so long, I just want to share by bug boys. I would love to gush and ramble about them some more. I have stuff I want to do with this AU.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe au #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu four #lu wind #lu wild #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu hollow knight au #willo art #willo art lu hollow knight

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artdcnaldson · 8 months ago

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tashi in the mix to this "teach me" verse hold on because..... tashi teaching you how to move your hips on a mans cock to make him crazy, on art because patrick would try to slip his tip in 😒,,,, hands on your hips, guiding you, you can feel her nipples on your back as she helps you rock back and forth over his dick.... art slipping and sliding through your slick folds, moaning when tashi turns your head to lick into your mou- i have another idea for patrick ill be back

hiiiii 🫶🩷

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (f!recieving oral, grinding, orgasm denial)

A/N: Your mind amazes me so bad it’s crazy. Patrick’s part is gonna be so 🤭🫶 I’m excited. Anyways. Need Artashi so bad it’s clinical

When you tell Tashi, her face contorts in a mix of annoyance and confusion. At you, for you, at them— it was hard to tell.

“Jesus, you’ve just been jerking and sucking them off for weeks now?” She asks, her lips turned into a frown

“I didn’t think you’d be upset about it,” you said shyly, feeling an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach. “It’s nothing serious between us, just—“

She stops you, laughing wryly. “No, I don’t give a fuck if they’re your boyfriends or not. I just can’t fucking believe that you’ve been getting them off and they haven’t even offered to make you cum.”

You feel heat in your cheeks. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t ever ask. It’s too embarrassing.”

Tashi rolls her eyes. “Jesus, if you can suck their dicks, they can make you cum. It’s not hard.” And she’s right. It’s not like you haven’t wondered what it would feel like for their hands to fit between your thighs, how different it might feel for their fingers to be buried inside of you— long and thick, different than yours. Or their mouths— even though thinking about it makes your stomach twist with embarrassment. “Whatever. I’ll fix it for you.”

Tashi will fix it. And that’s that.

It’s not even a day later that Tashi texts you, inviting you over to her dorm. “They’re fucking chauvinists,” she explains, knees brushing yours as you face each other on her bed. “They’re treating you like a fucking fleshlight because you’re naive. But you’re not going to be naive anymore. You’re going to get exactly what you want. What you need.”

“But I like it,” you admit nervously, afraid to let her down. “Being wanted like that.”

She smiles, brushes her hand along your cheek. “We’re not quitting. We’re leveling the playing field. They’ve given you some lessons, it’s my turn.”

Art Donaldson is a weak link— needy, sweet, eager. He’d follow Patrick or Tashi off a fucking cliff if they wanted him to. Art’s so easy that it’s no surprise when he’s at Tashi’s door fifteen minutes after she texts him.

Between you and Tashi, it’s easy to get him where you want him— desperate, wanting. All it takes are a few kisses and rubbing his dick through his jeans.

He watches, almost dazed as you kiss Tashi deeply, putting all those lessons from him and Patrick to work. And she’s like a mix of the two in a way— like she’d taken the care and hunger Art kissed with and tangled it up in all of Patrick’s intensity and need.

“That’s nice. At least they’re good for something,” Tashi murmurs against your lips. You nod, mouth open, leaning back in to kiss her again. She smiles, leans back. “C’mere.”

Tashi sits against the headboard, pulls you so your back is against her chest. Art slots in between your thighs with no instruction. He tugs down your shorts and panties at once, and your face burns as your pussy is exposed to both of them.

“Look how pretty she is, Art,” Tashi says. She’s holding your thighs apart, keeping you spread open for them. Her lips brush against your jaw and you sigh contentedly. “Give her a kiss.”

Art obeys easily, and his mouth meets your cunt like he’s making out with it. Slow laps of his tongue through your slit, tasting how wet you’d gotten from kissing them. He moans softly, nuzzles closer.

Your eyes flutter, rolling back as your body melts into the new sensation— lips and tongue, the warmth and wetness and pressure. It’s better than your own fingers, or the cheap vibrator you’d gotten at the mall.

You squeeze Tashi’s hand when his lips seal around your clit, nails digging into her palm, forming tiny crescents. “See?” Tashi says. “He’ll do whatever you want, you just have to make him.”

Art’s tongue dips inside of your entrance, making you moan. Tashi relishes in it— in seeing you experience all of it for the first time. It wasn’t fair, she decided, that she’d been left out from the beginning.

“Use your fingers,” Tashi instructs. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Art, you should just do it right the first time.”

He moans pathetically against your cunt as she tangles her fingers in his blond curls. You’re so wet that your body accepts his finger easily, like it belongs. He thrusts it slowly, curled just enough to brush against your sweet spot.

He’s grinding against the bed— desperate, needy. His brow is furrowed in concentration, desperate to make you cum so he can be rewarded and praised. He slips a second finger alongside the first, alternates between suckling on your clit and teasing it with soft licks.

You’re so easy to get worked up, especially when you’re sandwiched between Tashi and Art. Neither of them are surprised when you cum, hard and fast, clenching around Art’s fingers, grinding against his face.

Embarrassment and arousal mingle warm in your belly at the sight of Art’s face— all slick and wet. He leans in, kisses Tashi, then kisses you. He undresses while you’re coming down from it, wanting the two of you to lave him with attention, to take care of the aching need between his legs.

That’s not what he’s there for.

Tashi pushes him down onto his back, pins him there with nothing more than a look. He lays there trying to be patient, with his cock hard and resting against his stomach. You see it twitch as she peels off your shirt and your bra, throws her own shirt across the room.

Art watches in eager anticipation as Tashi guides you to straddle him, your wet cunt hovering right over where he wants it. His head falls back against Tashi’s pillows.

“Patrick’s going to fucking kill me,” Art groans.

“Why? She’s not fucking you,” Tashi said firmly. “You’re just going to lay there and be a prop. Be a good boy and lay still.”

His chest heaves as Tashi settles behind you, pressing her body against yours. “Alright, just move with my hands, okay? I’ll show you what boys like.”

You off wordlessly as she starts guiding your hips in slow, grinding motions. Art whines beneath you, as each slow pass of your hips makes your pussy slide along the line of his cock. His head falls back, and he tries and fails to buck up against you with his hips pinned under your and Tashi’s weight.

She guides your hips in slow circles and you whine at the same time as Art. “See?” She asks. You nod, head falling back against her shoulder. “All you need to turn his brain into mush is right here.”

Soon, the pressure of her hands on you is second to instinct— she lets her hands move up your body to squeeze and cup your tits. You turn, letting her lick into your mouth, relishing in the drag of her tongue against yours.

“Can you cum like this?” She breathes into your mouth. “Just using him like a plaything?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know,” you admit.

She just smiles against your lips, leans in for another hungry kiss. “Try.”

She guides your hand to the middle of his chest, giving you more purchase. The new angle makes you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your sensitive clit rubs against him.

“Good, keep going like that.” You almost whine at the loss of her warm behind you as she moves to sit against the wall. The perfect view of you and Art, both submitting to her whims. The sight of her with a hand between her thighs, watching you with a hungry, unabashed desire makes heat pool in your belly. Her fingers circle her clit with the skill of someone who knows exactly how to get what she needs in all things. “Look at him, not me.”

Art’s a fucking mess— red down to his chest, panting and whining beneath you. Without Tashi pinning his legs, he’s able to grind up against you, to seek that friction. Moans tumble past his full lips, and god, he looks so pretty when he’s pinned beneath you for once.

When you cum, it’s with panting moans and trembling thighs. Tashi finishes at the sight, of you— grinding down against the blond, who’s just lying there and taking it. Tashi rubs your back as you come down, smiling like she’d just coached you to victory.

You move off of Art and he’s still hard, still wanting. Pouting at the loss of the warm, slick pressure on his lap.

“Okay, you can go,” Tashi tells Art, with a soft pat against his cheek. He groans, chest still heaving, pouting. Tashi sighs. “You did your job, Art. Thank you.”

You watch him redress, obviously hard in his athletic shorts. He looks back, like he’s checking if Tashi’s going to change her mind (she doesn’t).

When he’s gone, she kisses you again, easing you onto your back, straddling your lap as she grinds her wet pussy against your thigh. “You’re such a good little student,” she praises against your lips. “No wonder they like you so much.”

tashi/patrick vignette next and they will match each others freak trust 🫶

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader #sex lessons au #my writing

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fireya-x · 16 days ago

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bite marks

【 AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist 】 ✦ John Price x Reader ✦ You show John exactly who he belongs to when other women won't take a hint. ✦ 4.4k words ✦ tags/cw: smut, dom!reader, jealousy, possessiveness, car sex, vaginal sex, creampie, light biting

Ranks and medals, gleaming on suits and uniforms, seemed to multiply with every glance, a dizzying display of military pomp and circumstance. It was that posh reception, the one that rolled around annually, the kind where inflated egos and forced pleasantries ruled the room. You almost felt sorry for John, who, by his rank and reputation, was always pulled into the middle of it all. Firm handshakes, forced smiles, and empty conversations – the price of duty, as he’d once called it, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he’d explained it to you.

You, on the other hand, absolutely loathed these events.

The music, always a little too loud, turning conversations into shouting matches and making your head ache. Small talk with people you barely even knew, and didn’t even want to know, faked politeness that turned into rolling eyes as soon as backs were turned.

The only redeeming qualities, as far as you were concerned, were the free-flowing drinks, the surprisingly decent food, and the excuse to wear your favorite dress – a sleek, black cocktail dress that hugged your curves in all the right places and made you feel powerful and confident.

But then, there were also people like her. The woman who seemed to have permanently attached herself to John’s side. She had the most beautiful smile, and it grated on your nerves. The way it crinkled the corners of her eyes, the way it lit up her whole face – it was captivating, yes, but utterly infuriating.

You really weren’t the jealous type, usually, but the way this woman was sticking to John like a leech, her hand constantly brushing against his arm, her body leaning into his, was pushing your limits.

John was trying his best to get rid of her, to give him credit, but she didn’t seem to get the message. He’d shift his weight, turn away slightly, but she’d simply adjust her position, her smile widening, her touch lingering. Even worse, she was the daughter of some important general, a fact she made sure to mention within earshot of anyone who would listen, so you knew he didn't want to be impolite. Said general, a stern-faced man whose chest was practically covered in medals, stood nearby, observing their interaction with a hawk-like gaze. Anything that’s got to do with ranks and honor, John wouldn’t turn a blind eye.

She kept smiling, and you started to wonder if it wouldn’t hurt her cheeks by the end of the night. The muscles in your own jaw ached from the effort of maintaining a polite facade. She kept laughing at every word he spoke, even every other word that left his mouth, any chance she got, and it caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

Earlier, you had brought John a drink, trying to save him from the misery of the woman’s relentless attention. You’d shifted closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek, a deliberate gesture of possession, a silent message to the woman – and everyone else in the room – that he was taken. But it seemed to have done little to deter her. If anything, it seemed to embolden her, her smile widening, her touch becoming more insistent. John had given you an apologetic smile, his eyes flicking towards the general standing nearby, and, as always, you understood. He was trapped between his duty to be polite and his desire to be with you, a conflict clearly reflected in the tension around his eyes. Ranks and honors mattered to him, sometimes more than they should.

“Damn,” Gaz whistled low, drawing your attention. You followed his gaze back to that same woman, now in very close proximity to your man, throwing her head back laughing and grabbing John’s arm in an almost intimate gesture. The way her fingers played with the edge of his jacket sleeve sent a wave of what felt like simmering anger through you. “She’s relentless.” He chuckled, clearly finding the situation amusing.

“I’m going to throw up,” you muttered, grabbing your glass again, downing another sip, letting the burn of the vodka on your throat sting away, if only momentarily, the sight before you. The alcohol, a potent mix of vodka and cranberry juice, was starting to take the edge off, loosening the tight coil in your stomach, but it wasn’t enough to completely extinguish the fire of your jealousy.

“What could she possibly want with Price?” Nova joined the conversation, handing Gaz a bottle of beer. While taking a sip from her own, he pulled her close to his side, an arm casually laid around her waist.

You eyed their easy affection, a pang of longing hitting you. Sometimes you wished your boyfriend wasn’t such a busy man and could enjoy a simple drink with his team and friends, even in the middle of the forced pleasantries of these receptions.

“Her daddy probably told her stories about him,” you said, your voice tight, betraying the effort it took to maintain your composure. A good-looking man like John surely had his admirers, and you’d seen it countless times before. But nobody had ever been this bold, this utterly oblivious to your presence, to the kiss you’d given him right in front of her. It was as if she couldn't – or wouldn't – see you. Nobody knew the John you knew, the man beneath the uniform, and it should have calmed your nerves, reassured you of your place in his life, a place no amount of flirting could threaten. But the woman’s audacity, her complete disregard for you, made your blood boil.

“Do I hear jealousy?” Gaz pressed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He seemed to be deriving an inordinate amount of pleasure from your discomfort.

“Why would I be jealous?” you retorted, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. You knew you were being childish, irrational even. John wasn't giving the woman any encouragement, but that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling of possessiveness from twisting your insides, the urge to mark your territory, to remind everyone – and especially her – that he was yours.

“Hm, let’s see. She’s younger, totally John’s type – ow!” Soap yelled, and in the corner of your eyes, you caught Ghost smacking him on the chest, a reprimand for his tactless comment. Soap rubbed his ribs while Ghost's eyes moved back and forth between you and John. He’d found it hilarious, the barely-concealed disgust twisting your features, the steam practically coming out of your ears from jealous fury.

“He can talk to whoever he wants,” you said, forcing a nonchalant tone. “He’s just polite because of all those old important people.” The words were a hollow attempt to convince yourself – and them – that you weren't affected by the woman's blatant flirting.

Two more women, equally polished and equally determined, had joined the throng around John. It seemed the general’s daughter had inadvertently started a competition, each woman vying for the Captain’s attention. He seemed even more annoyed now, his eyes finding yours across the room a few times – a silent plea for rescue – but he remained trapped, locked in conversation, duty-bound to be polite to the daughters and wives of high-ranking officials. He remained engaged, nodding politely, offering the occasional comment, despite their increasingly obvious attempts to distract him, their laughter and suggestive comments becoming bolder with each passing moment.

While you understood his duty and respect for rank, his prioritizing them over his own discomfort was increasingly frustrating. The way they subtly shifted their bodies, angling for his attention, trying to catch his eye, to put their cleavages on display – it was almost comical. Almost.

You’d had enough. The alcohol, the noise, the woman’s relentless pursuit – it was all too much. You needed a moment, a space to collect yourself. Taking a last sip of your now lukewarm drink, you moved towards the ladies' room. Inside, the cool air and relative quiet offered a welcome respite from the oppressive atmosphere of the party.

You leaned against the cool porcelain of the sink, taking a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. A surge of defiance, a reckless impulse, coursed through you, a spark of an idea igniting in your mind.

Inside the stall, you slipped your panties off and scrunched them up, concealing them in your fist like a secret weapon in your arsenal.

If you had to mark your territory like a possessive kitten, you’d gladly do so.

Emerging from the restroom, you scanned the room, locating Price. He was now engaged in conversation with the generals, his back to you. It was the perfect opportunity. With a determined stride, your heels clicking softly against the floor, you approached, your heart pounding against your ribs. You attached yourself to his arm with a pretended loving gesture, a possessive touch that belied your playful smile. You offered a polite nod to the men and women opposite of him, then reached into his jacket pocket, slipping the panties inside. Your fingers brushed against the rough fabric, pretending to smooth some nonexistent wrinkles. He stiffened slightly at the unexpected contact, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but didn't react further, too engrossed in the conversation to notice your actions or perhaps choosing to ignore them for the sake of politeness. You lingered for a moment, a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips, enjoying the thrill of the risk, before nonchalantly turning away, heading towards the bar as if nothing had happened.

You intended to grab another drink, to play it cool, but you didn’t even get the chance. John’s hand shot out, gripping your arm more roughly than he probably intended, his fingers digging into your skin. You turned to face him, surprised by the intensity of his grip and the urgency in his eyes. He leaned in, his voice low and husky, barely audible above the din of the party, “We’re leaving.”

His eyes, usually warm and playful, were now dark, almost predatory. He didn’t wait for your response, pulling you away from the party, his grip tightening on your arm, ignoring the curious glances and hushed whispers that followed your hasty exit.

The car came to a screeching halt somewhere on a field road, a dark forest swallowing it halfway. John grunted, his frustration evident in the sharp sound as he rummaged through his chest pocket. His fingers brushed against the soft lace of your panties, and he pulled them out, tossing them onto the middle console of the car with more force than necessary.

“What’s this then? What the bloody hell are you thinking?” He turned towards you, his expression unreadable in the dim light filtering through the trees.

“Oh, don’t give me that, John.” The alcohol had emboldened you, leaving you feeling reckless and exhilarated. You knew you had overstepped, crossed a line, but the jealousy, the urge to claim what was yours, had overridden all sense of propriety.

“Do you even know who that was? What if they saw –” His voice was tight, his jaw clenched, his anger palpable.

“I don’t fucking care.” The words were out before you could think, blunt and unapologetic. You knew you should have shown more restraint, but the truth was, you didn't regret anything. Not really.

“You’re one of my lieutenants. Show some respect.” His words were clipped, his jaw tight. He was trying to maintain control, to remind you of your place, of the hierarchy that existed between you, even outside the confines of the military base. But you could see the flicker of desire in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on your lips, betraying the conflict raging within him.

“Maybe show some respect to your partner –”

He sighed, shaking his head, a mixture of frustration and amusement finally breaking through his stern façade.

“John, I don’t –” You started to speak, wanting to explain yourself, to justify your actions, but he cut you off.

His hand shot out, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to face him. The touch, firm but not unkind, sent a shiver down your spine. “Listen to me –”

“No! You listen to me.” You pushed his hand away, unbuckled your seatbelt, and turned your body fully towards him, the movement causing your dress to ride up your thighs, exposing the smooth skin beneath.

“I don’t care who you flirt with when I’m not around, John.” You watched as his eyes couldn't resist following the movement of your dress. He fought to keep his gaze steady, to maintain his composure, but you could see the subtle clench of his jaw.

“I didn’t flirt –” he protested, but you ignored it.

“I trust you,” you continued, your voice softer now, almost a whisper, “but when I am right there? Nobody fucking flirts with you, understood?”

He paused for a second, a slow smile spreading across his lips, transforming his stern features, softening the hard lines of his face. “Never guessed you were that jealous,” he murmured, the tension easing slightly. He seemed almost… intrigued by your possessiveness, by the fierce way you were staking your claim.

“Not jealous,” you corrected, “Just… territorial.”

“She’s the daughter –” he began, but you silenced him with a finger pressed against his lips.

“Of a high-ranking official. I know.” You pulled back slightly, your eyes locking with his. “Doesn’t mean I have to like her claws all over you.” You reached for his arm, your fingers tracing the spot where the woman had touched him, remembering the possessive way her hand had lingered there. You pulled the fabric of his shirt up, exposing the warm skin beneath. Before he could even ask what you were doing, you licked along the exact spot, a slow, deliberate stroke of your tongue that sent a visible shiver through him. Then, you gently nibbled at the skin, leaving a faint mark of your teeth, a brand, a silent marking of what was yours.

His eyes darkened, turning into something wild and untamed, the amusement replaced by a raw, hungry desire. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, a primal sound that vibrated through you. He wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly why you had done that, remembering the possessive glint in your eyes, the way you had watched him, the silent challenge you had issued. And he accepted it, willingly, eagerly. He didn’t try to hide his desire any longer. With a sudden movement, almost too fast for you to register, he yanked you across the seat, settling you firmly on his lap, your bodies flush against each other, the heat of his desire igniting your own.

Your dress rode up your thighs completely, baring your sex against his crotch, and his eyes were glued to the sight, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Then you realized where his anger had come from, partly; he was rock hard beneath the black fabric of his pants, pressing insistently against your core. You gasped, a soft, involuntary sound, and at the same time, a strangled noise, like a growl, escaped his throat. Having a hard-on so obviously visible in front of his colleagues, especially in such a public setting, might have been an issue for him, a breach of protocol, a lapse in his usual impeccable control. But all you felt was a surge of pride, a thrill of possessiveness – all he needed was a little reminder of you to be this way.

You were the one who could unravel him, the one who could make him forget his duties, his responsibilities, the weight of his rank – no other woman.

You leaned in, grabbing his chin, so his eyes snapped back up to meet yours. As you spoke, you made sure to grind against him, a slow, agonizing movement that made him groan. “You don’t get to be mad at me.”

Your other hand snaked down between your bodies, closing around his erection through the fabric of his trousers. His eyes almost rolled back in his head at the contact, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab the flesh of your hips, pulling your dress even higher, wanting more, needing more.

You let go of him, grabbed his arms, and shoved them away from you, a playful challenge in your eyes. “If you touch me, John,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his mouth, then trailing it up his cheek, through his beard and stubble, finally nipping gently at his earlobe, “I’ll leave you fucking frustrated. Got it?” Your hand went back to his crotch, slowly working at the zipper of his trousers.

He let out a shaky exhale, his hands gripping the headrest behind him, visibly struggling to comply. The effort of restraint was evident in the taut muscles of his arms, and the clench of his jaw. His length twitched against your hand as you finally reached the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down to release him. He sprung free, hard and throbbing, nestled between your thighs. Another exhale, sharper this time, escaped his lips, his chest heaving beneath your hands. The sight of him, so hard, so desperate, so undeniably yours, was more intoxicating than any drink could ever be.

“I asked you if you understood me, John.” Your voice was low, husky, laced with a playful dominance. Your hand moved to tighten around his cock, and he hissed in response, a sharp intake of breath, as you slowly ran a finger over the sensitive tip.

“Yes,” he whispered, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes burning into yours.

You watched him, enjoying the sight of him struggling to maintain control, his body thrumming with barely contained need. His gaze was fixed on yours, a mixture of lust and frustration swirling in their depths. His length twitched against your hand, a silent plea for you to do something, anything .

You inched closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Good boy,” you murmured, the words a playful taunt, a reward for his obedience. You trailed kisses down his throat to the hollow at the base of his neck. You nipped at his earlobe, then his neck, sucking gently at the skin, wanting to leave a mark, a visible sign of your claim on him. You could feel the pulse throbbing beneath your lips, and the heat and salty taste of his skin flushed your senses.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you pulled the neckline of your dress down, just past your breasts, letting them spill free. If you could have, you would have captured the look on his face at that moment, a perfect blend of desperation, desire, and awe. His earlier anger had completely dissolved, replaced by raw, uncontained lust. His eyes were wild, like a tiger on the prowl, his teeth grinding against each other, the muscles in his jaw flexing. You knew just how much he wanted to reach out and touch you – to cup your breasts, to trace the curve of your hips, to pull you closer – but you wouldn’t let him. Not yet.

Instead, you shifted your weight, positioning yourself over him, the tip of his cock pressing against your slick heat. He groaned then, his body tensing in anticipation, a silent prayer for what he craved.

You reached down, your fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt, freeing his chest.

Then, you lowered yourself onto him with a tormenting slowness, savoring the feeling of him filling you, stretching you. His breath hitched in his throat, his muscles clenching as you took him deeper, inch by agonizing inch. You held yourself still, suspended above him, letting the weight of your body settle on him, the friction building an unbearable tension.

You leaned forward, your now-bare breasts brushing against the wiry hair of his chest. You rubbed against him, and your nipples, hard and aching, dragged across his skin, earning a guttural growl from deep within his chest. You lowered your head and nipped at his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, then soothed the sting with a slow, lingering kiss. His hands twitched, reaching out instinctively, wanting to pull you closer, to guide your rhythm, to take control. But he stopped himself, his fingers clenching into fists, finding their way to the steering wheel behind you, knuckles white against the dark leather.

You continued to torment him, grinding your hips against his, a slow, circular motion that sent shivers of pleasure – and frustration – through you both. You could feel him throbbing inside you, hard and insistent, desperate for release. You smirked, enjoying his struggle, the way his body trembled beneath you, a captive to your desires, his control hanging by a thread.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his voice strained, his eyes squeezed shut, his body rigid with the effort of holding back.

You lifted yourself slightly, then lowered yourself again, taking him deeper, pushing him closer to the edge. He arched beneath you, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he fought for control, the pleasure building, coiling tighter and tighter within him. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest, a mixture of lust and affection swelling within you. He was yours, completely and utterly, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. You were in control, the dominant force, and he was yours to command, to possess, to please. And you intended to savor every second of it.

You quickened your pace, the rhythm building, causing his hips to meet yours, thrust for thrust. His breathing grew ragged, his moans growing louder, filling the small space of the car. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest, a thrill of power surging through you as you felt him nearing the edge. He was so close, his body taut with anticipation, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched.

And then, with a guttural cry, he shattered, his body convulsing beneath you. You felt the pulsing heat of his release deep inside you, each throb a searing brand against your most sensitive walls. A wave of pleasure washed over you, a delicious echo of his release, but it wasn’t enough. You were far from finished.

“Touch me,” you commanded, not letting him linger in his bliss for too long. “Make me come, John.”

His eyes flew open, his gaze locking with yours. He hesitated for a moment, before his hand moved from the steering wheel to your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him. His other hand found its way between your bodies, his fingers seeking out your clit.

He began to rub, slow circles at first, then faster, more insistent, his touch sending shivers of pleasure radiating through you. You sat still, letting him work his magic, your body a canvas for his touch. He began to move his hips, slow, shallow thrusts, his softening cock dragging against your walls, the friction adding to the growing inferno within you.

You moaned, your body writhing beneath him, the pleasure building, coiling tighter and tighter, a delicious torment that you savored, knowing that the release, when it came, would be all the more powerful.

He watched you, his gaze intent, his breathing growing ragged as he witnessed your pleasure. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, more forceful, his fingers moving and pressing against your clit, building the pressure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cried out, your voice raw with need, your body trembling, your legs shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure reached its peak, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to shatter you. And then, with a scream, you came, your body convulsing around him, the world exploding into a blinding white light, the feeling overwhelming, making you feel weightlessly floating in a state of euphoria.

You collapsed against him, your head resting on his chest, your breathing ragged, your heart pounding against his ribs. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his warm body against yours. For a long moment, you simply held each other, savoring the afterglow, the quiet connection that transcended words.

“I love you,” you whispered, sighing contentedly as you moved back a little and reached out, your fingers slowly closing the buttons of his shirt, a small gesture of tenderness.

“I’m not sure if you deserve me saying it back.”

“Hey–!” you protested playfully, swatting at his hand as he struggled with the buttons near his neck, taking over for him.

“I won’t be able to love you if you’re killing me with your behavior,” he continued, his lips curving into a slow smile.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you retorted, rolling your eyes, but the smile tugging at your own lips betrayed your amusement. You loved this side of him, the playful banter, the teasing affection that he so rarely allowed himself to show, a glimpse of the man beneath the uniform, the man you knew and loved with all your heart.

He reached out, his calloused fingers gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away a smudge of lipstick from the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he said, spoken with a sincerity that made your heart swell.

You smiled, and he returned it, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that always made your heart skip a beat. He moved you gently back to your seat, his touch lingering on your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip as if unwilling to let you go. You adjusted your dress, smoothing the fabric over your still-tingling skin, your legs still shaky.

“Let’s get back.”

“Back ?” You looked at him, your eyes wide with shock. You glanced down at your body, the sticky evidence of your little dispute warm against your inner thighs. “I can't go back like this,” you whispered, your cheeks flushing at the thought of facing your colleagues, of the questions, the knowing glances, the whispers that would undoubtedly follow.

He smirked, an evil glint in his eyes, as he reached down, grabbing the lace panties from the gear shift where they had landed before, and stuffed them back into his pocket. You were stunned speechless, not sure what to say, how to react. You had expected him to still be angry, to reprimand you for your impulsive behavior, but this… this was something else entirely. He was turning the tables, reclaiming control in his own way.

“You wanted everyone to know you’re mine, didn’t you?”

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sadbicth · 1 year ago

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israel posted a video of them giving water bottles to palestinians on a beach, then destroyed their luggage and shot at them after they stopped recording.

israel posted a photo of one of their soldiers "assisting" with an elderly man, then they shot him twice in the back and killed him.

in 2015, the idf posted pr photos of an israeli soldier giving water to an elderly palestinian woman, only for them to execute her after the photo was taken.

in 2005, an idf soldier emptied his rifle into a 13-year-old palestinian schoolgirl. he said he would have done the same thing if she was 3-years-old. he was acquitted of all charged.

israel claimed that hamas beheaded 40 israeli babies and then a month later cut off power to a palestinian hospital where premature babies were on incubators.

israel bombed a group of children collecting rainwater.

israel shot and killed two palestinian children playing with their scooter.

israel shot a hard of hearing girl in the face with a stun grenade and broke her jaw.

israel is using bombs with blades that are designed to cause maximum damage to the person in range.

israel forced medical workers at al-Nasr medical center to leave babies in incubators in order to evacuate the hospital they were bombing.

israel turned off power to hospitals in palestine, forcing nurses and doctors to use their phone flashlights when treating patients.

israel raised their flag over Al Shifa hospital.

israel has blown up the chambers of the palestinian legislative council.

israel targeted a "suspicious vehicle containing several terrorists”, meanwhile the only people in the car were three girls, ages 10, 12, and 14, their grandmother, and their mother. the only survivor was the three girls' mother.

israel planted a copy of mein kampf in a children's bedroom in a gazan house they claim hamas was hiding in.

israel poured fake blood onto the floor of an israeli child's bedroom and claimed hamas killed them.

israeli soldiers posted a video of them dancing on gazan graves.

israel posted a video showing a calendar in a palestinian children's hospital was a hamas guard list because it was written in arabic.

israel was using white phosphorus on hospitals.

israel bombed a refugee camp.

israel has burned olive trees in palestine.

israel has put cement into the water supply of palestine.

israel claimed that they found tunnels under Al Shifa hospital, only for it to be exposed that those tunnels are actually in sweden.

israel built a bunker and command room under Al Shifa hospital in 1983, only for them to now say that they are hamas tunnels.

israeli police arrested an israeli high school teacher, who posted on facebook expressing sympathy with palestinian civilians who have been killed.

israeli soldiers filmed themselves throwing a stun grenade into a palestinian mosque.

we are witnessing a genocide in real time framed under the guise of stopping hamas. israel has been terrorizing palestine for as long as israel has existed, but their access to technology and social media has made it much easier to fool people into supporting them.

meanwhile, noah schnapp is posting that zionism is sexy and celebrities are standing with israel. just absolutely twisted shit.

edit: for those who would like sources, my twitter is alliiesmith. i have retweeted everything i’ve mentioned. i apologize for not providing this sooner

edit 2: i’ve had some people in the replies and reposts pointing out that linking my twitter seems like promotion. i just wanted to clear up that that was not my intention. i’ve been retweeting resources and news much faster than i’m able to add to this post, and i thought that my twitter profile could be something of a hub for information. i don’t care if you follow me, but i think scrolling through and seeing what i’ve retweeted could be helpful.

#*#allie talks #israel palestine conflict #israel #idf #palestine #gaza #west bank #politics #current events

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dawnslight-aegis · 8 months ago

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and that's a wrap on my tarot series! the upright majors, at least. there may be others sometime in the future if I am seized by a combination of insanity and hyperfixation once again.

you might notice a few cards are a bit (or in the case of the fool and alternate chariot, a lot) different! I did a few retakes for consistency/style.

below the read more I've included a bunch of notes about symbolism and reasoning behind my choices if that interests you!

(tag for individual card posts)

0. The Fool: Ardbert was really the only choice for this one. He's our stand-in, our shard, our mirror. Feo Ul is included partially because of lore (they are my co-WoL's shard on the First) and also because they also fit the themes of adventure and new beginnings and exploration. Most of the cards I played pretty loose on the posing vs traditional depictions, but this one I wanted to hew a little closer, which is why he's on a cliff with a foot hanging over the edge a bit, with his axe standing in for the bindle. This is my second attempt at the card -- the first was in Il Mheg, but I moved it to Kholusia (Ardbert's home) and dawn to more closely symbolize that it's the beginning of something. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 8/10, posing Feo Ul was annoying.

1. The Magician: This card could have had several subjects, chief among them Alphinaud or a more modern G'raha, but I settled on Alisaie a) because the other two cards I had in mind for her (Chariot and Justice) were already taken, and b) the card's focus on physical magic and depicting the "tools of the trade" reminded me a lot of Angelo's creation! So that's why she's here, and why I set the card in Matoya's Relict, among the tools of magicians who came before (Matoya, Y'shtola). I retook the shot because I was unsatisfied with the blurriness/the way the light covered her face in the first one. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 5/10, simple pose but working with Impact's spell effect complicated things.

2. The High Priestess: Another that I never questioned who would appear on it. Y'shtola's arc is entirely about uncovering forbidden, secret knowledge and wisdom, so she fits beautifully. The blue-white orb and the purple staff depict duality between dark and light, and how Y'shtola walks in two worlds, seeing things that are beyond sight, standing before an altar/holy place to the Night's Blessed. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. Premade pose, knew where I wanted to place her -- the only thing was finding a prop for her off hand.

3. The Empress: Hoo boy did Minfi give me some trouble. I knew that I wanted our Antecedent, who provides both authority and care for the Scions, to represent the Empress, but I struggled to find a depiction that wasn't, well, boring. Minfilia is deeply linked with the Solar, and I didn't want to lean too hard into Word of the Mother/Hydaelyn territory, so I settled on a triple goddess-like idea. Attempts: 3. Difficulty: 6/10. Not mechanically difficult, just conceptually.

4. The Emperor: Another one that I knew who I wanted but struggled with the concept. Haurchefant is very much emblematic of the stability, structure, and masculinity provided by the Emperor, but it wasn't until I decided to add his equally-Emperor-coded father that things settled into place. Together, Edmont and Haurchefant evoke the image of father and son as well as king and knight, filling both major male authority roles that the Emperor exemplifies. Attempts: 4. Difficulty: 6/10. Same as the Empress.

5. The Hierophant: this one was one of the hardest to choose a subject for -- the WoL's allies are largely a bunch of revolutionary firebrands, and I disagree HEAVILY with the popular choice of placing Aymeric here. So I landed on Alphinaud -- out of the Scions, he is the one most concerned with tradition and the "right" way to do things, with formal education and structure. He wants to bring Sharlayan into the modern day, not upend the institutions that raised him and that he very much still respects, much like how he still respects his very traditionally Hierophant-coded father. So I placed him in his family home with a sort of smug look since he can be a pretentious little shit sometimes (affectionate). The spell effect is from Kardia, and I paid special attention to having the shapes align perfectly with the lines in the background, to give a sense of stability and order to the shot, especially contrasted with Alisaie's more dynamic and chaotic depiction. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 4/10, entirely in alignment.

6. The Lovers: Hrasevelgr and Saint Shiva are a great choice for depicting the Lovers as two people, but no one does the Lovers in one subject better than Ysayle. Invoking the spirit of a woman who died for love in order to bring harmony to her people, but it truly being her own power and her own choice the whole time... it's great. Her pose is her transformation/summoning pose, turned into a gesture of affection, which I was particularly proud of. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 3/10, posing monsters is always a little funky.

7. The Chariot: This one has two options -- my co-WoL, Marz, and Tataru/Cid/Nero for the NPC variant. All 4 characters share a singular drive and refusal to let anything stop them once they've set their mind to something, and the 3 NPCs have the added benefit of being associated with a literal "chariot" in the form of airship design. Marz's place on Shadowkeeper has some lore associations (Cylva is her shard on the 13th) as well as being a void mirror to Kaede's sin eater shot. For both I wanted to have dynamic poses to evoke the activity of the card. Attempts: 1 (Marz), 2 (NPCs). Difficulty: 3/10 for both, no major hurdles once the lovely @/karoiseka pointed me at an airship in NG+.

8. Justice: The heart of the Justice card is its emphasis on truth, and no character in FFXIV is more committed to truth even in the face of great suffering than Aymeric de Borel. Because of this, the shot is taken at the top of the Vault, where he confronted his father over his concealment of the truth of the Dragonsong War. The card is usually depicted with a woman holding a sword and balanced scales -- Aymeric is holding his sword in a pose used in statues in the Pillars, and the symmetry of the shot/light and shadow split down the middle is meant to give the feeling of balance. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 1/10. I knew my concept, location, and shader before I even went in, and it came out exactly like I wanted.

9. The Hermit: Originally I had Urianger for this card, who still fits well, but when I moved him to Wheel of Fortune, there was a clear second choice: The Exarch. He even resembles the Hermit, with his cloak and staff, holding himself in isolation and possessing secret knowledge with which he guides the party. G'raha has grown out of this role as of Endwalker, but the Exarch fits it to a tee. I wanted to show his longing to return through his body language and reaching out for the portal that shows him the world he is set apart from. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 4/10. Nothing major but did have to do two entirely separate cards lmao.

10. The Wheel of Fortune: The one I struggled with the most, conceptually. At first I had a more abstract choice, with the 3 starting city state leaders and Tataru, in a sort of "fate leads to the Scions" idea. But then I remembered that Urianger is a fortune teller who uses a wheel-like weapon with a literal wheel of cards, and, well. Yeah. The man is intimately associated with fate and choice, and the choice to place him on the moon is intentional, to separate him from his more secretive depictions in HW/ShB. He is the one who prepares our second option (flight) while giving us the choice to make our first (fight). Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 7/10. He's up on a high ledge that's not normally accessible and that's always a pain in the ass.

11. Strength: The one that started it all. The original shot of Kaede contained some layer elements I wasn't happy with so I ended up retaking it to better cohere with the others. Strength is about confidence and inner strength "leashing" power, symbolized by the woman and the tamed lion, and there's exactly one good lion model in XIV -- Forgiven Cruelty. It also has the fun side meaning of Kaede conquering and wielding the light that almost killed her. For Moenbryda's, I went with something simple -- her axe to symbolize her strength, but with her archon mark and the Sharlayan Thaliak statue prominently featured, emphasizing her intelligence. Attempts: 2 (Kaede), 1 (Moenbryda). Difficulty: 6/10. Kaede's was straightforward enough (though I had to wait an annoyingly long time for the sky to shift colors correctly), but Moenbryda's involved me floating her up on a building so i could get Thaliak in the shot correctly.

12. The Hanged Man: Holy moly this one was a PAIN IN THE ASS. I knew from the minute I started this what I wanted to do with it -- Lahabrea holding Thancred's ankle as he reaches for Minfilia. The Hanged Man is one that I felt it was especially important to mimic the iconic pose on the card, and this was how I decided to do it, but it took me over an hour and a half to accomplish. Anyway, the Zodiark idol stands in for the Tree of Life, which I really liked. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 10/10. Absolutely infuriating to have to pose 3 actors in three dimensional space like that.

13. Death: I only ever considered Estinien for this card. It stands for transformation and change, for shedding the old to make way for the new, and I chose to depict that by having his old corrupted drachen mail posed behind him like a shadow or an abandoned husk. He has left the hate and the rage behind, but the helmet is meant to symbolize that he always remembers it, and carries it with him so that he can do better. His lance is also vaguely reminiscent of the traditional Death scythe. That spot in Coerthas is where he challenges you in the early DRG quests while controlled by Nidhogg, as well as being just visually striking. Attempts: 1, but it took a while. Difficulty: 9/10. The ground is very much not flat, the helmet is on a minion, and I had to change angles and locations a few times.

14. Temperance: I briefly considered Hythlodaeus here, but Krile fits very well. Calm, competent, but unsure of her own worth. I chose Eureka Hydatos both for its importance to Krile as well as its easily accessible water -- instead of pouring from a cup, Krile is looking at her reflection. This one came together so quickly and easily. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 1/10. In and out of Eureka in less than 20 minutes.

15. The Tower: Originally, before I reshuffled, G'raha was going to be the Tower simply because I didn't know where to put him, and I couldn't think of an ally who is ultimately a destructive force, but it always bothered me because he truly didn't fit. Meteion, though -- despite her innocence and unwillingness, is THE destructive force within Endwalker's story. This card had the highest hurdles -- I had to get 7 friends to help me queue for Endsinger and then leave, and I almost couldn't get my tools to load Meteion in properly. After that it was smooth sailing, however. I used the whole lockout timer, but this was only the 4th shot I took, and it's one of my personal favorites. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 4/10, purely for queuing.

16. The Devil: Addiction, obsession, and control -- Zenos was the only answer for this card. I included Zero as well, despite intending this to be a primarily 6.0 and earlier set, to represent the humans bound in chains to the Devil, using the way she's pinned between Zenos and the scythe to symbolize that she's trapped. Afterward I realized this exact shot and character choice would have also worked quite well for the Tower, as well, but I ultimately prefer the Devil for him. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 3/10. Came together surprisingly easily, despite the fact that I had to make Zero's hat touch pose myself.

17. The Star: Symbolizing hope and new life, I can think of no one better suited than Ryne and the Empty. Ryne herself was given her own new life when Minfilia passed on her power, and the ability to make her own destiny -- and she used that power to revitalize a barren wasteland. My first version of this shot had a photoshopped in central star, but I decided to revisit the concept with an in game effect for the star instead. Helios provided what I needed, with the fun extra benefit of some additional rainbows (happy pride!). Attempts: 3. Difficulty: 3/10. Nothing crazy beyond trying to find a good angle to get the star in the shot, as well as Eden and the rainbow crystal. Second attempt I messed up the framing and had to redo it again.

18. The Moon: The card of dreams, fear, anxiety, and secrets, Gaia is perfect here (and a lovely companion to Ryne as the Star), though I did briefly consider Urianger as well. I wanted to have Gaia on the sand, with the moon hanging between the crystal walls of the Empty above her, but the angles would NOT cooperate to allow me to get the moon in the shot. So, levitation was the only answer. Fortunately it suits Gaia well, especially the distance that it evokes. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 6/10. I hate midair posing.

19. The Sun: Another card that sprang fully formed into my mind. Joy and fulfillment is symbolized by Lyse enjoying the morning light in a free Ala Mhigo, thinking of Papalymo. It also allowed me to get both of these very different characters into a single card, as they are very much a package deal, though I did consider Papalymo for the Hierophant as well. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. Came together very quickly.

20. Judgement: The last two cards of the Major Arcana are very high concept, with very lofty ideals, so they felt hard to pin down. I thought of doing both my WoLs here, or maybe Elidibus with his three forms for light, dark, and balance. But ultimately I ended up on Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus, as the sort of "final judgement" before the battle with the endsinger, the last step before everything ends. Their literal rebirth, the resolution of Emet-Selch's conflict with the WoL, the not-redemption but understanding reached, our efforts judged worthy -- it all just seemed to fit. The card design is simple but I hope the colors and emotion of the scene carry the weight of the arcana. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. No major roadblocks.

21. The World: At last we arrive at the end, not only the last posted but the last taken as well. I always knew I wanted Venat/Hydaelyn for this card, as she is the literal heart of our world, as well as an Azem who has reached the end of her journey, as Ardbert was one who was at the beginning of his all the way back at the Fool. But when I didn't use Elidibus anywhere else, I decided to add him here as well, since he also served as the heart of the star for a time. Light and dark united together, watching over Etheirys. The one who destroyed our world in order to save it, and the one who saved our world only to try to destroy it. Perfect symmetry, a completion of the circle. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 9/10. I had to stitch together 3 separate screenshots in photoshop, with the fore and backgrounds cut apart so I could control the opacities separately. Probably the card that took me the longest, but it was worth it.

#ffxiv #ffxiv tarot #tarot #ffxiv gpose #had so much fun with this project #I've wanted to do it for years #I'll link this on twitter in a couple days but y'all get it early

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zombaebitez · 15 days ago

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ik u j posted it but alr havin withdrawals can we get more relationship hcs w abby??

Abby Relationship Hcs

abby anderson x fem reader

synopsis: modern day abby relationship headcanons, just rambles oopsie.

zom’s note: withdrawals is so silly, i love it. hope my writing is up to par, enjoy! 🌸

word count: abt 1.1k

warnings: use of petnames (love, princess, etc). nsfw content (own section after sfw! don’t like it? just don’t read that section), mentions strapping (r!receiving), teasing, manhandling, foreplay.

SFW HCS <3

ꕥ Abby always has a hand or arm around you, says it’s for safety, to keep you near her; but you know deep down she’s just a touchy girl, and you can’t complain, you love it.

⤍ “Love walk on this side,” and before you can even move she’s alreading pulling you to where she wants you to go, wrapping a strong arm around your waist.

ꕥ On the subject of touch, this girl will literally carry you around (on her back, bridal style, etc) when you ask her to (or when you don’t), in the house, in public, she doesn’t care one bit. You are her pretty princess, and she loves being at your beck and call.

ꕥ She takes pride in her physique, she has a set workout routine, and is constantly in a protein kick. She loves bringing you to the gym with her, just so she can catch you stealing glances at her while you’re doing your own thing.

ꕥ Her casual wear? She is a chronic cargos, sweats, or jeans wearer, though she will switch it up with shorts sometimes. She’ll wear some sort of tank, compression/fitted top (to show off muscle), hoodies, or basic tee, with a sports bra underneath, maybe a beanie or snapback depending on how hot it is. Very minimal jewelry and accessories, and has an obsession with muted colors, and black.

ꕥ Speaking of jewelry, she’ll always wear your initial or name on her somewhere, and vice versa. Her favorite would be a simple gold necklace/chain which has your initial that you got her, it also has a matching gold link bracelet that she sometimes wears too.

ꕥ She loves when you offer to braid her hair for the day, now she just volunteers you to do it with a random excuse, “I dunno princess, you just do it better!” She’ll have the brush, and hair ties ready once you finish your morning routine.

ꕥ Morning Routines? She usually wakes up when you do, or some time before. But once you wake up, she immediately follows you to watch you get ready for the day. It’s endearing, kind of like a giant puppy.

ꕥ She enjoys pet names surprisingly, and will call you all sorts of names (princess, love, sweetheart, etc). She never got to show her lovey dovey side before you, so she just can’t help it.

ꕥ Hates when you get upset, “Princess, cmon talk to me… what happened?” Always running a soothing hand down your back, she just wants to be there for you.

ꕥ She’s not as stoic as people may think when it comes to you, she’s just a girl who loves her princess to death; therefore, she has to show it… like all the time, sue her (you’re just as bad).

ꕥ A random girl hits on her? She gives the girl a judgy once over… maybe twice? hell THREE times, and says something like “I have a girlfriend, you’re gonna get us both in trouble…”, “Uhm I’m taken.”, “My girlfriend won’t like this.” Before she starts aimlessly looking around for where the hell you went to, because the interaction is now a little awkward.

ꕥ She has natural sass, it’s not even on purpose, she is just a little snippy. Don’t even dare say something that will earn you a side eye, because she’ll hand them out to you too, again she can’t help it.

⤍ “Babe, you know you could totally pull off being a hey mamas”, now you were clearly joking, giving her a ridiculous ass grin as she looked up from her phone to hit you with a judgmental stare. “Excuse me?” you couldn’t help but laugh your ass off, as she just sat there confused, “Princess don’t start with me”, she mumbled with a slight eye roll, reaching over to gently slap your thigh.

ꕥ Oh god and the coin collection, she indeed has one of those collection binders, and keeps it organized/labeled. She gets so excited whenever you gift her a new one, and always shows you when she finished a sheet in the binder.

ꕥ She most definitely loves to shop with you, and go on errands. Something about being all domestic and on top of business, watching you mark off things you two need for the house, watching you get all happy when you finally get to go shopping, and being productive makes her feel good. (She wants to put a ring on that finger real bad, real bad).

⤍ Makes you carry her wallet, and phone when y’all are out because she feels they are safer with you, (her wallet fell out her pocket once and she freaked the hell out). She keeps her keys on a carabiner with a bunch of random charms or a lanyard so she can’t misplace them.

NSFW HCS !!

ꕥ Abby prefers to top, and dom. But she’ll let you occasionally top if you really asked nicely or she’s having a hard day. There’s just something about getting you all fucked out that she can’t help, she needs to have you under her.

ꕥ She’s a total strap lover, she’ll fuck you in any postion she can. Loves how she can just grab onto you and make you forget how to form a thought with deep or shallow thrusts. Don’t even try to wiggle or push her away, she’ll just get a little frustrated with you, and pin you exactly how she wants you like it isn’t any effort for her (it’s not).

ꕥ She likes to tease you with just the tip. Watching you think you’re about to get what you want, what you need; seeing that frustrated pout go slack, with a quiet moan. Just for you to whine, when she pulls back just as fast as she came. It’s really not fair.

ꕥ Yes, she likes to manhandle you, she doesn’t have all those muscles for nothing. She’ll use them to her advantage every time, and her stamina goes in-fucking-sane. She’ll fuck you till you can’t even moan anymore, all dazed out and whiny for her, just trembling because of how overwhelmed she can make you feel.

ꕥ Sometimes she forgets her own strength, digging her fingers into the plush of your thighs or ass, biting and sucking a little too hard on certain parts of your body, slapping your ass a little too hard. You’ll wake up with a bunch of bruises and marks the next day, whining about how sore you feel, but she lowkey gets off on that shit.

ꕥ Whenever she does let you top her, she is usually guiding you how she wants you. Just because she’s on the bottom doesn’t mean shit, she still makes the rules, and you just want to take care of her like she does for you.

ꕥ Foreplay god! She loves being a tease to you, getting you all frustrated, gets off to the fact she can get you needy from mere touches and words. Plus what's the use in rushing, she’s gonna take her sweet time with you.

#abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson smut #headcanon #wlw #lesbian

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bitchface24-7 · 1 month ago

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SMASH - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: After four gruelling exams so far (and it's only Wednesday!) you're sure your brain is mush. You didn't expect a random student to come up to you in regards to their final project asking you (and other students) one simple question, “What do you think about the Hextech inventors, Jayce and Viktor?” in a brilliant move of word association, you say the one thing everyone's thinking, “Smash.”

warnings: going viral, embarrassment, meeting Jayvik and wanting to kys, light hearted teasing, modern au?? I just kinda added phones and social media to the arcane universe, grammarly is my beta now

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

This idea came out of nowhere as I salted my soft-boiled eggs, hope y'all enjoy! Also, I do have a solo Viktor x reader draft. No Jayce ones yet. Jayvik has taken over my mind

This week has been kicking your ass, and its only Wednesday.

You've had four, FOUR exams so far this week and you have three more to go before this semester ends and you can enjoy your summer break.

You feel braindead. You're more energy drink than you are water and blood. Your eyes hurt, you're dragging your feet. You're in your comfiest sweatshirt, cargo pants, and slip-on shoes. Surprisingly your hair is clean, you got a bit of an energy burst yesterday to shower before heading to bed.

Your headphones are on, your music is blasting, and you're walking as fast as you can to your dormitory to get some last minute studying in before you crash out.

What you weren't expecting was a beautiful girl coming up to you with a small microphone attached to her phone. You move one headphone behind your ear, but even then; your hearing isn’t the best due to your exhaustion.

“… think of… inventors… Jayce and Viktor?”

In a brilliant move of word association, you say the one thing that comes to mind.

“Smash.”

With that, you put your headphone back on and continue on your walk to your dormitory, not seeing the beautiful girl in a flabbergasted state as her camera man dies of laughter.

Oh, this is gonna go viral.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Friday eventually comes, as does your last exam. With a newfound sense of freedom, you rush to your dorm to hop into bed and sleep for a consecutive forty eight hours before you enjoy your summer off.

You strip off your outfit and put on your comfiest pyjamas. You snuggle up in bed and greatly appreciate the blackout blinds your room has. Just as you’re about to fall asleep, your phone beeps.

From: Caitlyn🔫

Girl… you've gone viral.

You snort as you push yourself onto your elbows and text your best friend back.

To: Caitlyn🔫

Wtf are you talking about???

How the hell would I go viral? I haven't done anything.

Two pings simultaneously come through onto your phone, the first one is maybe a thirty second video, and the second is Caitlyn just laughing at you.

From: Caitlyn🔫

https://www.tiktok.com/holy-hell-she-did-not-just-say-that

Are you sure about that? 💀💀

You furrow your eyebrows and cautiously click the link Caitlyn sent you. It takes a few seconds but the video eventually loads, and there you are.

You’re in one of your favourite outfits, it’s comfy but still looks nice. Your hair is framing your face nicely and you have one of your headphones behind your ear as you look confused at the beautiful woman in front of you. It’s quite obvious you’re exhausted.

She does her whole spiel regarding how this is for her journalism classes final project and how she’s going around the academy’s campus asking people at random a simple question. You look completely lost, you can see your dark circles have dark circles; you cringe at how tired you look.

The video is almost over and you’re wondering what made you go viral in the first place, it’s when there’s fifteen seconds left in the video where you get your answer.

“What do you think about the Hextech inventors, Jayce and Viktor?”

You look blankly at the pretty woman and just casually in a monotone voice state, “Smash.”

You then see yourself put your headphone back on and continue on your previous task of getting home. You then get to see the glorious hilarity of the poor woman sputtering as the camera man laughs. You feel your face burn, it becomes almost unbearable when you see the comments of the video.

They’re just saying what we’re all thinking

Slay

Not a thought behind those eyes except smashing Jayce and Viktor. Same. Ask them to go to Paris.

I love them omfg

On my personal device that my parents pay the wifi for?

Oop 👀 their inside thoughts accidentally became outside words

They got good taste

Quick! Somebody send this to them 💀💀

Don’t let the council see this…

You’re so funny. Please don’t die.

You damn near whip your phone across your room in embarrassment. Why. Why has the gods forsaken you this day? That video was posted two days ago and it’s already wracked up millions of views, over a million likes, and thousands of shares and comments. It’ll be a miracle if Jayce and Viktor haven’t seen that video yet.

From: Caitlyn🔫

Btw I sent Jayce the video, love you ❤️

You scream into your pillow after that. You were supposed to meet them after your final grades were submitted so that you could possibly start working with them on Hextech.

Guess those dreams are ashes now.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You’ve essentially barricaded yourself in your dorm room. No one’s coming in, and you’re not coming out.

Your best friend has other plans.

“C’mon, we planned this meet up like a month ago. Grades are out, you got like straight As. You’ll get the job.”

You cover yourself in more blankets, your voice is quite muffled when you respond back, “Hell no! They’ve seen me embarrass myself in front of millions of viewers. You sent Jayce the video! I’m not going!”

Caitlyn huffs as she rips the blankets off you, you squeal and try to hide again.

“They’re curious about you! They want to meet you.”

“Of course they’re curious about me, I said I wanted to have sex with them!”

Caitlyn cringes at the thought. Objectively she can see that both Viktor and Jayce are very attractive men, but Jayce is her brother and well, she’s always had more appreciation for the female form.

“Seriously, we gotta go. Their schedules are always crazy busy. This is the first time in… forever since they’ve taken some time off.”

You huff, “If anything goes wrong, I'm blaming you.”

Caitlyn smiles at that and throws you an outfit to change into, “I’m totally fine with that.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The walk to the lab is tense. You keep fidgeting with your hair, your clothes, your fingers. Everything.

Caitlyn keeps lightly slapping your hands to stop you from ruining her hard work. She's got you in nice black slacks that show off your pretty legs, a burgundy button-down with a cream vest over top of it, highlighting your waist, and a simple pair of black boots. Everything about this outfit screams sophistication and highlights your beauty.

“Are you sure we can't go back?”

Caitlyn giggles at you, “We’re like a foot away from the lab doors. You should've asked earlier.”

You whip your head to look at her, “Are you saying if I asked earlier, we could have cancelled this meeting?”

“No.”

And with that, Caitlyn knocks on the lab doors and you feel yourself blanche due to nerves. You're gonna die, you're barely into your twenties and you're going to die.

You've had a good life so far.

You truly feel like you've seen the pearly gates when a tall, broad man with a beaming smile opens the door, “Sprout, you made it!”

He exclaims as he brings Caitlyn into a massive hug. Caitlyn squawks a bit at the strength but hugs the handsome man back. You just awkwardly stand there biting your lip, stopping your intrusive thoughts of jumping out the window. You'll probably break an ankle, but it'd be worth it.

A rhythmic thump breaks you out of your stupor and you see an incredibly attractive man come up to you. He's tall, lean, and has the most beautiful bone structure you've ever seen. His eyes are like molten gold.

He quirks an eyebrow at your admirative glance and holds a hand out, the other firmly holding onto his cane, “You must be Miss. Kiramman’s friend. My name is Viktor. Welcome to the lab.”

You hesitantly go to shake his hand. His palms are cool compared to yours. He's got small calluses everywhere yet his hands are deceptively soft. You ensure you have a good grip on his hand, you were taught a lousy handshake is quite insulting.

A hand is brought down onto your shoulder and you almost gasp in shock, “I’m Jayce.” the tanned man states as Caitlyn tries to fix her ruffled hair. Wow, they are like siblings. Especially since Caitlyn has a sneer on her face as she elbows Jayce in the ribs; effectively causing him to crumple a bit.

You bite your lip and lightly giggle, Viktor shoots you a fond look as he ushers everyone into the lab.

A casual conversation is held before Caitlyn leaves so that you, Jayce, and Viktor can talk privately. You're tempted to screech at her to stay. But you don't.

The atmosphere in the lab is a bit awkward as Jayce just blurts out, “So… What was that video about?”

“Jayce!” Viktor lightly scolds, “You have no tact.”

You choke on an inhale of breath, causing a coughing attack. Jayce pats you on the back, trying to alleviate the discomfort.

“I—uh. Well, I was functioning on about four hours of sleep after two back-to-back exams, and before that, I had an exam on each previous day. So I wasn't in the right mindset when that girl came up to me and asked… that question. I didn't even hear the question fully before I… y’know… answered her.”

Jayce lightly pouts as Viktor shoves his tongue into one of his cheeks, “So… you wouldn't smash us?”

You accidentally bark out a laugh before slapping a hand over your mouth, “I’d be an idiot to say no. But, if we're going to work together… mixing pleasure into it never goes well.”

Viktor and Jayce share a loaded look, “Well…” Viktor's accent purrs out, “If you ever change your mind… you know where to find us.” The man that just rocked your world just casually walks to his desk, his cane rhythmically thumping against the marble floor of the lab.

Jayce drags a hand on your lower back as he shoots a wink over his shoulder, ushering you to the blackboard.

Maybe you being braindead and blunt worked out for you in the end.

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #jayce talis #viktor imagine #jayce imagine #arcane imagine #viktor x reader #jayce x reader #jayce x viktor #viktor x jayce x reader #jayvik x reader #fem!reader #male!reader #gender neutral reader #banner by cafekitsune

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threebea · 2 months ago

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The Jedi should have done something about Tatooine and the Hutts. If only they sent Jedi to Tatooine and not just ignored it--

Oh hi Quinlan. How's Tatooine circa TPM?

Anyway the Jedi should have done something about slavery in the galaxy outside the Republic's borders and not focused just on the Republic--

Huh. The CIS were pretty cool with helping the Zygerrians reestablish their slave empire that the (checks notes) Jedi dismantled.

Anyway, the Jedi should never have joined the war at all. Sure the clone army existed and the clones would have to fight no matter what the Jedi decided to do, and yes, as far as the Jedi knew the clones were created by one of their order and so they had a responsibility to them in whatever capacity they could, and the clones being brainwashed into loyalty for the republic was established so convincing millions of them at once not to fight would be impossible that early on. And sure, Dooku, a Sith, led the galaxy's worst capitalists that wanted to make naboo look like child's play and kill countless civilians if the Republic didn't give in to all their demands, and yes the Jedi were linked psychically to the cosmos in a way where they could feel imbalance, death, and darkness, but they should have taken the moral high road and (checks notes) let both civilians and clones die from droids. Droids who are programmed and aren't going to hesitate about killing anyone. Droids who can't be negotiated with.

Of course they could have... Negotiated with the Sith Lord? Who wasn't actually the head sithlord in charge.

Then again the other Sith Lord who had been duly elected into office wouldn't have allowed that but...they should have tried!

Well they worked with hutts to use hyperlanes for the war they could have chosen not to fight in had actually tried harder! They were lazy and chose the easy path of being forced to dirty their hands because otherwise fascist billionaires and corporations would send programmed droids to kill civilians (like Naboo during TPM) until the Republic gave into their demands (unbridled capitalism which as we recall were totally cool with helping the Slave Empire they previously dismantled become a slave empire again).

The Jedi should have helped people and not tied themselves to the senate. They could have just negotiated with a galaxy worth of planets on a case by case basis.

Listen. Star Wars is a metaphor. It is not a one to one comparison of reality. The Jedi did all they could to help people and they did things that wore them down in body and soul because they had to make that sacrifice or let people suffer and die. There is no alternative in the galaxy they existed in. The Empire that Palpatine made is what they saw the CIS becoming.

Palpatine saw the Jedi as one of the biggest threats to his fascist empire so the plan was always to kill them. It's not illegal to be a Sith he might say, but he certainly made it illegal to be a Jedi.

I would love to know what people think, with the GFFA being what it is, and the size it is, and the Jedi numbering about ten thousand in the end what they were supposed to do as an alternative that would have had any of this end different.

If they hadn't joined the war people would have been enslaved and died and the Jedi would have still been hunted and killed.

If the Jedi removed themselves from the republic in protest of the war but still fought independently to help people they would have lost so much access, more clones for sure would have died, and the Jedi would still be hunted down and killed at the end.

If the Jedi left the republic before the war and were independents they would be slaughtered faster than they were on genonosis because they don't have the numbers. The droid army would get them or the republic run by Palpatine would get them. Keeping in mind Palpatine was elected and the Jedi had nothing to do with his election beyond saving a teenage girl and bringing her to beg her case to the senate on behalf of her people (the death toll was, as we remember, catastrophic).

If they retreated to the mountains and meditated then they just let people die without even trying to help and feel the cosmos become darker and more imbalanced by the suffering they could feel but we're ignoring. And years later Palpatine would show up to kill them because that aspect of his plan would never change.

They should have taken the moral high ground doesn't work in the scenario they were given in the universe they existed in. Not for them. Not when they are powered by empathy. It would have been a corruption of what they stand for if they didn't try to help people. And they tried. It wasn't their corruption that let the galaxy down. The Jedi were aware of their own flaws. They were aware they shouldn't be generals. They knew they shouldn't be commanding a clone army. They were under no illusions that the choices they were being forced to make were good, but even at their most morally questionable they didn't sell out the galaxy. It was the politicians that voted in a mass murdering fascist with thunderous applause to not just be supreme chancellor, to not just have emergency powers, but to be an emperor.

The Jedi even tried a coup. The last thing they would want, but they tried it anyway to hold back a Sith Emperor establishing his empire built on slavery and suffering who would later build a weapon that could destroy entire planets.

The Jedi did not lead to the downfall of the Republic. They were the last shield to be shattered.

#pro Jedi #i need to go and sleep #the thing is star wars is a metaphor but isn't one to one with reality #putting real world logic on the space wizards doesnt work when they arent dealing with real world logic

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defmaybe · 1 month ago

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Connection

12 Days of Christmas: Day 9, January 2nd, 2025

Kep1er’s Kim Chaehyun x Male Reader

2.4k words

Christmas Masterlist

A/N: See also gangplanksorenji’s Chaehyun Kinknuary Day 7: Titfucking

—

“This place is a bit–secluded, Chaehyun. Are you sure we can’t do it at our dorm?” Your expression is nothing short of quizzical. You’re not sure why your link partner would have to drag you out to the back of your school gym like this. Not that you’re against the idea, of course. Being alone with her is one of the best things that has ever happened to you. Still, what’s going to happen remains a mystery, and not going to lie, that scares you a bit.

“Come on, there’s no place better than here. There are eyes everywhere, you know?” she tries to persuade. That doesn’t work–yet.

You pull out your judging face, staring into her pretty eyes. You’re trying to pry something out of her, and that’s the secret to why here?

“Chaehyun, what are we doing here?” you ask, trying to sound stern.

Chaehyun is a little taken aback by your directness. Her resolve falters slightly. She looks–concerned. Did you just scare her?

“I–It’s just a gift, okay? It’s not something bad. I–I’m sure you’ll love it!” she finally replies, trying to sound stern, but her voice is shaking. She’s intimidated by you.

“Oh,” you utter, taken aback a little. You shouldn’t have doubted your cute senior, after all. “Oh, sh–shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

She laughs, visibly happy that the tension dissolves into the air. Shouldn’t have made it a big deal in the first place. “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll all forget this in five minutes, alright?”

You let out a sigh, relieved. “S–Sure, Chaehyun.”

“So, the gift!” she says with an unmatched enthusiasm. How lucky you are with your link partner, gotta keep this energy and pass it on to your junior.

Wait.

She has nothing on her. There’s no visible bump in her pockets.

You take a glance around. It’s probably hidden somewhere around here, anyway. That’s why you were dragged out this far.

Suddenly, she kneels, keeping her eye contact with you. Isn’t she supposed to–

“Chaehyun?”

“Yes?” she replies, looking into your eyes innocuously.

“What are you doing? Th–The floor is dirty! A–And aren’t you supposed to–”

“Relax, this is the gift,” she responds with a giggle, before tugging her hands behind your waistband. The warmth from her hand emanates into your body. Your breathing quickens at her touch. Is she–

“Ch–Chaehyun, what are you d–doing?”

“Baby, I need you to stay still for me, alright? Because I’m going to give you the best gift you’ll ever have~” she says sultrily. Your eyes widen in shock, unable to make sense of this otherworldly situation. Her hands start to unbuckle your belt, smiling up at you. Fuck, she’s so alluring.

Your mind cannot process what is going on. All you can feel is the tugging on your pants, trying to drag them down to the concrete floor. And by the time you’re back on earth, your pants are already on the ground. Your erection poking out of your boxers.

“Wow, didn’t know you’ve been hiding this, baby,” Chaehyun coos, sticking out her tongue lewdly. It’s barely touching your cock now, and you can’t help but to thrust forward into her mouth.

“Ha–mmm!” Chaehyun gives your confined cock a soft kiss for a split second, before pulling herself back from it. You whine in disappointment.

“That’s very impatient of you, baby~” she says seductively, and you’re doing your best to resist thrusting into her mouth again.

“I’ll give this huge, thick cock the treatment he deserves, but you’ll have to wait, understand?”

You nod sheepishly in response. You’re going to have to resist the temptations for now.

Chaehyun uses her fingers to fiddle with your restrained cock through the tight boxers. Your body trembles and writhes in response. She knows where to touch you. She knows how to break you. She’s good at this.

Chaehyun giggles, as she slithers her hands under your boxers from below. They slowly (and torturously) creep her hands up your thighs. You let out stuttered moans at her touch.

“M–My god, Ch–Chae,” you utter.

“Mmm, so big and hard for me, so ready to burst between my tits.”

Your mouth opens wide, both in shock and to accommodate the groans coming out. Her hands are ghosting so close to your cock. What a tease.

She’s definitely revelling in the way she’s making you a mess like this. You’re shaking. You’re quivering. You’re shuddering under her touch. She’s just having that much power over you.

In a slow, deliberate movement, Chaehyun grabs onto the edge of your black boxers, pulling them down carefully. Your cock springs free once it’s out of its fabric cage, barely hitting her face in the motion. She smiles, and that’s making you almost falter.

(A lot would argue that you’ve already drowned in her boiling lust, though, but your falter usually involves literally falling over her toned body—a faint, to say. Right now, well, you’re just trembling in anxiety, almost drooling, and just hard as a rock.)

She pulls the garment down to pool on your ankles. It rests there idly, unbeknownst to the events happening around it. Chaehyun, being the cocktease she is, sticks out her tongue lewdly. She’s close enough for you to feel her warm breath on your cock, but still a few centimeters away from the divine rapture you were promised. She just hangs her mouth open there, warming your cock with her exhale.

“Bet you wanna stick him into my mouth so bad,” she continues to tease, bringing up her hand close to your cock just to fucking ghost around it. She makes a pretense of jerking you off with her slender fingers. Fuck, she even does the swipes at the tip. Your body is shaking with anticipation.

“Bet you wanna just choke me with this big, thick cock,” says Chaehyun, mockingly bobbing her head back and forth, still making the much-needed contact a mere fantasy. Her breasts bounce along with the teasing movement.

“Bet you wanna see me drool over this fucking dick, gagging, sputtering all over him,” Chaehyun does a little wordplay. The tip of her fingers are grazing your balls. Your body shudders at her tantalizing touch. You just can’t take it anymore.

Chaehyun mischievously giggles. God, you swear that it’s so wicked in the way she does that, withholding you the pleasure you fucking deserve. You wish you could just plant her face on your cock and make her choke on you. You wish you could just make her cock-drunk. You wish you could just smear your cock with her spit. You wish. You wish. You wish.

Chaehyun then plants kisses just above your cock, so determined, so eager to undo you into a mess (you’d say that you already are). She takes a few licks here and there: on the sides, above, on your meaty thighs, anywhere except for your throbbing cock.

“Ch–Chae, n–need you–my cock,” you grunt, unable to make sense of the elusive sensation she’s giving you. You just can’t take it anymore. This is too much. Fuck.

A giggle escapes Chaehyun’s lips before uttering the series of words you’re needing the most. “Alright, baby, let’s give your cock what he deserves.”

She withdraws her hands from your hardness. It twitches in the weighing expectation of her next action. Chaehyun grabs onto the hem of her shirt, pulling it up ever so slowly, revealing her toned abs. The highlight, indeed, are her breasts that the poor purple bra is struggling to hold. They look so meaty, so delicious. Fuck, they even jiggle.

Maybe it’s the way your eyes linger for a little too long. Maybe it’s the way you’re almost drooling. Chaehyun laughs, and loudly, finding humor in the way you’re so magnetized to her tits like this.

“Oh my god, you fucking pervert!” Chaehyun laughs.

“Wh–Wha–”

Your train of thoughts is cut out with another burst of laughter, as you wait for her to stop laughing so that you get the divine pleasure you were promised. Her shirt is still hiked up to just above her salivating cleavage

“Ch–Chaehyun–”

“Ha–a–alright, I’ll–” She goes back to pulling up the shirt before fully discarding the garment. Now, she’s exposed under the orange-tinted sunset. “I’m sorry, it’s just–I can be a bit weird about this stuff.”

“Uh–that’s fine, Chaehyun,” you reply.

As queued, she firmly pushes her voluptuous breasts up, walking on her knees towards you. It’s this moment, the one you’ve been waiting for. Your breathing quickens under the weight of expectation. Your hands tremble. Your eyes flutter. You’re going to fuck Kim Chaehyun’s tits!

At the first contact between your mushroom tip and the valley of her breasts, you figure she feels so soft, like a cushion if you’d compare. Still, without the lube, it enters the between of her tits awkwardly—stuttered, rough.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, looking down at her mounds. “I’ll just–.”

She uses her spit as lube.

She uses her spit as lube!

You let out an involuntary whimper, perplexed by the erotic situation. Her saliva runs down the valley of her breasts, and she decides to add a bit more lubrication. More spit.

You just can’t comprehend the exact situation that’s happening around you now. You can only cover your mouth in sheer shock, stifling the moans coming out as some of her spit reaches your cock sitting in between her delicious breasts.

“That’s probably enough,” Chaehyun says. The hypothesis is then tested with her grabbing onto the sides of her tits, before she slides them down, making your cock disappear into the hollow between her breasts. God, that feels so good. You let out a loud groan in sheer satisfaction, lost in the pleasure between her tits.

“O–Oh g–god,” you manage to stutter out.

“Stay still, alright? You don’t need to do any work today. Consider this a gift from me,” Chaehyun says with a giggle, still pushing her chest down your throbbing cock.

“Come closer, baby, can’t go to the hilt if we’re this far,” she says, and you comply with her order. It feels easier now to fuck her tits at a close distance like this. Her breath hits the tip of your cock, as you watch yourself slowly coming up from the hollow of her chest. What a sight.

“Nghhh~” you moan. She feels so warm around your cock, so soft, so right.

Finally, you fuck her tits up to your hilt. Your groan contains nothing but pure, unbridled bliss. God, her tits feel so fucking great.

“Alright, do you wanna rest here or–uh–should I slide my tits up and down?” she asks, giggling. Her smile is so damn cute.

“Uh–just slide up and down. If it’s too much, I’ll say stop,” you reply, and that elicits a wicked grin out of her. It’s showtime for her.

Slowly, she pushes her breasts up, grazing your cock with her porcelain skin. You let out a loud moan at the insane feeling of her tits.

“H–Holy fucking sh–shit,” you utter.

Chaehyun only giggles at your satisfied response. She pushes her wet tits up until half of your cock is out of the valley, before she slams her tits back down, making you let out erratic whimpers.

“Nghhhh~”

“Yes, baby, moan like that,” she coos, finally starting to find her rhythm on your cock. She pushes her breasts up and down in a hypnotic motion. You watch as your cock disappears and reappears in front of your face, all by the effect of her voluptuous tits. Your moans grow louder and louder; someone might hear that, but you couldn’t care less right now. All you’re focusing on is her fucking your cock with her tits like this. It’s nothing short of heavenly.

“You’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” Chaehyun says.

“Nghh~” you can only moan out, sheepishly nodding for her.

She ups her ante, sliding up and down your cock faster and faster. Her pillowy mounds hug you tightly in the deep valley. Your moans grow more irregular. Fuck, this feels so good.

She then uses the ultimate trick hidden in her sleeve all this time. She sticks out her tongue lewdly to get a taste of your cock every time you’re buried deep in her tits. The sensation on your little mushroom tip sends you into haywire, making your moans echo around the gym.

“Keep moaning like that, baby. You’re doing great!” Chaehyun encourages, keeping her tongue out. She’s sliding up and down your cock even faster, and that only induces the inevitable.

Your fingers start to curl. Your body turns rigid. There are signs, and you know it. You’re going to spray her fair, porcelain skin with a copious amount of your cum, painting her with impurity.

“G–Gonna c–cum, nghhh,” you utter between the moans. Your body writhes in the embrace of her voluptuous tits.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum on me,” she sultrily says.

You break. White, hot semen is shot out of your filthy slit onto her. The first few spurts are violent, shooting far into her mouth. Some even hit her gorgeous face! You let out a loud, guttural groan in unfiltered pleasure. God, what a feeling.

The spurts eventually subside in their intensity, painting the between of her chest with your dirty cum. Kim Chaehyun is your sinful canvas, and you’re the goddamn artist.

“Wow, so much cum for me,” she says, scooping a trace of your cum from her cheeks to taste as you watch in shock. “And it tastes good~”

You can only pant in exhaustion from the sheer intensity of the orgasm. Your eyes still have stars in the vision. Fuck, you really just came between her tits.

She’s basking in the sunset gorgeously, shining in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your cum is dripping down her empyrean face. God, she looks great.

“C–Can we do th–this again?” you ask her, looking down on the floor with a slight tinge of embarrassment. That doesn’t eclipse your boiling lust, of course.

She smirks up at you, chuckling. “Well–definitely, maybe.”

—

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