#mars writing ����
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ghostbsuter · 1 year ago
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"Excuse me?" Jazz's voice echoes in the meeting room in space. She gains the attention of the heroes immediately and sees them tensing up in at her appearance.
Behind her, he swirling green portal is open, waiting for her to return.
A blond, coat wearing man, curses upon seeing her and gives a half bow. "Princess Jasmine," he speaks up, eye twitching.
"What brings you here?"
At the greeting and reveal of her title, few others fall into bows, the lady at the head of the table, wonder woman?, gives her a smile.
Her eyes pin the green skinned man to his seat, who in return tilts his head at her.
"My brothers birthday is soon," she focuses on the man again. "I'm simply here for a present."
The man tenses, another curse slipping. "Ah– king phantom, right? I wasn't aware his birthday would be so soon."
Jazz ignores him, calmly walking to the Martian and placing a picture of Mars before him.
"The tales of your people have brought much interest to my brother. He became a big fan." She tells, sharing her intentions at his light poking.
"I ask for a signature, it would make his day."
Martian Manhunter, alien hero, and once upon a time, a father even smiles. He's delighted yet feeling a deep-rooted sadness. The tales of his people continue to spread in the afterlife, it seems.
Jazz leaves quickly after, not before giving Diana a number, they are cousins after all.
Danny will love her present.
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whitehotforeva · 3 months ago
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GREEDY – Anakin Skywalker 
best!friend anakin x reader
your panties have been going missing, little did you know that your perverted best friend has been stealing them ♡
word count: 2,129
warnings: smut. oral (fem receiving) male masturbation. anakin is a needy perv for ur pussy 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
a/n: its literally four am n i've been up writing this filth. not proofread im still kinda new to this stuff/writing but i hope whoever reads this enjoys <3
You weren’t sure exactly when it started. Sure, you were never one to be exactly tidy, so it was pretty common for you to lose random tops around your room, or maybe a pair of underwear, but after the sixth pair went missing, you suspected something was up. 
You couldn't exactly figure it out. Where the hell did they go? How did they disappear like that? You’d search all around the house, wondering if they’d been misplaced but no. 
So when the seventh pair went missing after your best friend Anakin visited, you pressed your lips together as you pieced together the puzzle. Things always seemed to go missing after he’d leave. 
Your face warmed at the idea. Surely not? Was it just your brain making things up? Because then that would mean that well...he liked you. I mean that's what it meant right? If a guy stole your underwear? A part of you wanted to giggle and squeal into your pillow. Despite the many years of friendship between you and Anakin, you couldn't deny that you had developed a crush on him. Who could blame you. 
But the other half felt anxiety. What if there was a completely other reason they went missing? Something which had nothing to do with him at all? How could you even question it to him? Bring it up? 
Hey Ani. You keeping my best underwear? Can I have it back please? At least the one with the little pink bow? And that lacy black pair? Oh and my white panties too. Oh and the four others please? 
Fuck no. There were times where your body would radiate a nervous energy around him because you felt intimidated at how perfect he was. 
Little do you know, it's what he loved about you. The way you’d quickly glance away after maintaining eye contact with him for a second too long, a blush growing on your cheeks. Or the way you’d tell him to shut up as a flirty remark left his lips, playfully hitting him despite dying on the inside over it because you felt you couldn't read into it. He had always been so charming. So composed and in control of his feelings. 
So imagine the surprise and utter shock that filled your body when you decided to hang out at his house and found him desperately rutting his leaky cock into your black lacy panties. 
It wasn't unusual for you guys to turn up unannounced at each other's house, so as you made your way through his house, treading upstairs carefully to sneak up and spook him, the last thing you expected was hearing a deep moan coming from his room. 
Naturally, you had to see what that was about. Duh. But as you edged closer, you could hear a string of curse words leave his mouth. His door was slightly open, and you inhaled a sharp breath as you saw his long fingers clutching the pair that went missing around his cock.  
Your eyes widened at the size. You didnt know what you expected, but you couldn’t help but gulp at his length. And his achy leaky tip that was thrusting against your pair of panties.  
A soft gasp left your lips at the sight mixed with the familiar feeling of warmth that begin to pool in your lower half. Your eyes were so mesmerized on the way he jerked off his cock with your panties, you didnt even feel the cold blue stare that was fixed on you. 
That was until his deep voice interrupted your staring. 
“You gonna come help me angel? Or gonna stand there and stare?” He half groaned, an amused tone coating his voice as your eyes widened in horror at being caught, snapping up to his stormy orbs. 
Your lips parted to speak as you took a step back, instantly glancing away as you raised your hands up. “I-I- Sorry- I didnt mean to uh. Sorry!” You stammered out, trying to look anywhere but there. 
You barely even registered what he said. 
“Don’t be rude. Come on in.” You weren't looking at his face, but you could imagine the arrogant smirk he’d usually wear painted on his lips, matching with his cocky tone. You hesitantly glanced at his face again and noticed the way his face glistened with sweat. He was shirtless and you couldn't help but let your eyes linger back down to his cock. Your mouth was open in shock again especially as you watched his hand envelop your panties around his cock and slide it up again, your eyes snapping back up to his as he let out a low chuckle at your expression, shamelessly stroking his cock. 
“Th-those are mine”. You tried to speak firmly, trying to ignore the way his hand picked up the pace. You don't know what gave you the nerve to say that. 
“Yeah? You gonna come and get them baby?”. His voice was airy as he almost whimpered the sentence out, biting down on his plump lip at the sight of you bewildered, watching you jerk his cock. 
You blushed furiously, blinking a few times to snap yourself out of whatever was going on.  
“Ani! W-what are you even doing right now?” You exclaimed, yet he didn't miss the way your legs squirmed around as you tried to get rid of that feeling. 
You knew how to. There was only one way. 
Suddenly, he sat up, his thick brows tensing in frustration as he huffed out and stood up slowly. You wanted to back away, and as he moved closer, you wanted to be swallowed by the ground. 
You felt almost dizzy. There he was, practically naked, his hand clenching your panties tightly, his cock rock hard against his stomach as he stood in front of you. He leaned down to your ear, his lips grazing it as you shuddered. 
“Doing what you should've been doing.” He spoke lowly, his large hands finding your waist before tugging down at your jeans. 
Before you could even protest, he had them off and you were stepping out of them. You didn't know why you didn't stop or protest, but the heat in between your thighs decided to be your brains now. 
“Ani.” You breathed out, your face red and chest shaky from the anticipation, and as you watched him slowly sink to his knees, you couldn't help but let a whimper leave your lips at the way his nose nuzzled against the damp spot your once white panties held.  
He let out a groan at your scent, taking it in as he felt his cock leak even more.  
His jerk off sessions would usually start with your used panties against his nose as he sniffed them, even tasted them. 
It was the closest he could get to having a piece of you. But now you were here, and he could see your legs trembling gently from need and the way your clit was aching for attention. It was obvious by your leaky pussy that was ruining your panties. 
A loud moan left your lips at the way his tongue licked over the cloth covering your most intimate parts. You couldn’t help but rest your fingers in his hair, and it was a good idea you did, because he began licking long strips down your clothed pussy that had you beginning to grip onto his curly locks. 
“Please.” You couldn’t help but whimper out, needing to feel his tongue against your bare skin. He nuzzled his face against you, basking in your scent before chuckling against your pussy. 
You felt yourself get even wetter. 
“Please? That’s what I should be saying to you.” He groaned out, slowly pulling down your panties and relishing the sight of your glistening cunt. He couldn’t help but pump his cock again with his other free hand. 
“Been wanting you so bad baby. Wanting to smell you. Taste you- fuck.”  
Just as he pumped himself again, he dove his head in-between your legs and began to lap at your juices hungrily. Your eyes widened at the sudden stimulation as a loud high-pitched moan left your lips. 
Thank God Shmi wasn't home. 
Little whines escaped your lips as he devoured you, his fingers digging into your hips to stabilize you further. You were already trembling, and as he caught your clit and sucked at it tightly, you pulled at his hair roughly, feeling yourself go a little dizzy. 
“Fuck- Ani!” You half sobbed out as pleasure shot through your body, and you found yourself grinding against his wet face for more. You could feel him grin against your pussy and watched how he had dropped your old pair of panties and yanked at the white pair he had just took off you, beginning to jerk his cock furiously with them. 
His own moans vibrated against your pussy, adding to your pleasure as you felt a white hot heat flow through your veins. 
He pulled away before nuzzling his nose against your clit, letting out a whimper.  
“Fucking taste so good baby. Been so desperate stealing your panties. Needed your pussy. Just a taste.” He whined out to you desperately, his eyes looking up at you sending another electric jolt through your clit. 
There your best friend was, desperately lapping at your pussy, admitting how perverted he had been. 
“Please. Please!” He whined out, his tongue resuming licking at your wet folds. Sharp gasps left your lips as he begged for a taste of you. Begged for your cum. You felt hear the messy sounds his tongue against your soaked pussy was creating, but also the wet sound your soaked panties and his cock was making as you noticed the way his hips were desperately grinding upwards.  
He was chasing after his own release as he begged to give you yours, whimpering incoherent things against your pussy as you felt your vision go blurry and a loud desperate squeal leaving your lips as the coil in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm crashed. Loud moans and gasps filled the air as your legs trembled against him, desperate to move away from the overstimulated feeling of him flattening his tongue against your clit. 
The way you gripped onto his curls tighter and let your juices explode against his tongue had him letting out the filthiest sound you had ever heard as his cum spilled out of his hard cock and onto the white panties he was jerking off with. 
As he shook from his own orgasm, he shook his face into your sensitive sopping folds, relishing in your extra squeals as you exclaimed out that it was too much for you. He continued his relentless attack, desperate for every drop of you and you couldn't help but let the tears that had pooled in your eyes out. 
“Ani! Anakin! Can't- can't take it please” you begged out brokenly, your hips attempting to jerk away as you felt his fingers dig into your thighs, the light pain overloading your senses as a warm pleasure washed over you.  
He slowly moved his face away, a dazed look in his eyes and a wide grin staring up at you with his glistening lips. You couldn't do anything but whimper as you felt your knees give out, but he gently lowered you to the floor on your knees. You trembled as you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his sweaty abs as you felt his hand on your back, rubbing it softly to calm you down. 
Your eyes caught the sight of his cock and you couldn’t help but whine out at the sight of your panties stained with his cum. Your hand reached out to pull your panties away from his cock, hearing him hiss and gently tremble at the sensation. You looked up at him, then back down at the stained panties. 
“Come on. Don’t look at me like that. I’ll buy you more.” He spoke out, laughing as you giggled with him, playfully rolling your eyes at him. 
"You need to buy me eight more.” 
He playfully scoffed, standing up as he grabbed your hips, pulling you up with him and guiding you onto his bed, pushing you down. 
“Yeah?” He questioned, cockily raising a brow as he began to take your top off. You furrowed your brows in confusion. 
“Anakin what are yo-mmfhh!” 
Your eyes widened at the fact that Anakin had just shoved your cum stained panties into your mouth. The taste of his cum and your own juices sinking into your tongue as he wore yet again another amused smirk on his face. 
He was disgusting, and you felt yourself grow wetter. 
“Give me a minute, and I’ll show you something that feels even better.” 
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itsmarsss · 6 months ago
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stupid. [Peter Maximoff x Reader] (X-Men)
[~from the vault~]
Friends kiss all the time, right? Right?
Word count: 2,062
Warnings: none i don't think i even use the word fuck here like who even was i this is just fluff
[. . .]
“Okay, truth or dare?” Jubilee asked Peter, an unmistakably mischievous look on her face. 
It was funny, actually, to think that a group of mutant teenagers with unimaginable powers would be spending their weekend doing such mundane things, such as throwing a party and playing truth or dare like a bunch of seventh graders, but the truth is that none of you ever really had the chance to have that before, most always too weird to be with the normal kids.
So, truth or dare on a saturday night in the middle of the woods it was.
And of course you knew how this was going to go. You didn’t even have to be his best friend to know what he would pick without a hint of hesitation. 
“You know it,” Peter replied with a signature smirk.
Scott let out a groan. “There’s not even anything for you to do anymore!”
“There’s still plenty of stuff for me to do!” Peter defended himself, a hand over his chest feigning offense.
“No, he’s right! You never pick truth!” Warren joined Scott in complaining.
“Because I’m not boring! You guys are just laaaame.”
“I don’t know, lick that tree over there or something,” Jubilee murmured, uninterested.
“What? That’s all you got? Come on, you can do better! Dare me to run to Hawaii or something!”
“How would we know you actually went to Hawaii?” Kurt asked, and Peter tilted his head to the side, realizing what he said made sense.
“Just pick truth already!” Jean exclaimed, clearly annoyed at the amount of time his turn was taking. 
Peter put his arms up in surrender. “Okay, fine! But it’s gonna be lame.”
Jubilee quickly seemed to gain her excitement again, smiling as she thought of what to ask, snapping her fingers as she finally landed upon a question. “Okay! Have you and Y/N kissed before?” 
He seemed to be taken by surprise, shifting in his seat, and you felt your own cheeks burning, hoping the lack of light would hide it. Of course she would want to ask something like that. 
“C’mon. Something not so lame. What are we, 12?”
“Answer the question!” Scott egged him on, and Peter looked at you, silently asking you what to do. You didn’t even say anything, but you assumed he noticed how flustered you were, as he decided to spare you and lie.
“No. Happy?”
You thought they would let it go, but got confused when everyone other than you and Peter turned to Jean, who, after a moment, spoke up. “He’s lying,” she affirmed.
And then it was chaos. 
“Oh my God! When?”
“I knew it!”
“Holy shit how was it?”
“Stop reading my mind, witch!” Peter yelled. You knew him. Usually he’d be pretty proud to talk about how he 'got with the girl' or whatever. But Peter also knew you, and you both knew that you had specifically agreed to not talk about this. So he tried to change the subject. “Okay, okay, that’s not how this works. You have your answer, now spin the bottle again.”
“But-” 
“Those are the rules, Scotty.”
Annoyed, Scott reached out to spin the bottle again, and Peter winked at you. You smiled at him in return, thanking him silently. You were smart enough to know they would bug you about it later but at least you were fine for now, with enough time to come up with some bullshit excuse before you got bombarded with questions.
“Y/n it’s your turn.”
Well, maybe not so much time.
You were taken out of your thoughts by Jean’s words, averting your eyes to the bottle in front of you. Fair enough, it landed on you. Such luck.
“Truth or dare?” Scott asked you, unable to hide a grin.
“Come on, Scott.”
“You gotta choose!”
“Truth?”
“Tell us how that kiss happened.”
“Dare.”
“I… dare you to tell us how the kiss happened.”
“That’s not fair-”
“Those are the rules,” Warren intervened, repeating what Peter had said earlier, and you shot him a death glare. 
“You know I could kill you right?”
“You like me too much,” he smiled, and you sighed. You considered leaving the game, but you knew they would just annoy you until you talked.
“Fine. It was nothing, okay? We were on a mission and we had to improvise, that’s it.”
Scott’s eyebrows were furrowed together. “Wait it was for a mission?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed.
“But then it doesn’t count!”
Warren chimed in again. “What? Yes it counts-”
You looked over at Peter while all your friends debated the validity of your kiss , but he looked confused. “What?” You mouthed to him.
“That wasn’t our first kiss,” he blurted out, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world, very clearly not thinking before he spoke. Everybody else went quiet.
Warren was the first one to break the silence. “First kiss? Wait, how many times have you kissed?”
“No- it was-” Peter tried to save himself, but it was way too late. Now they wouldn’t leave you alone.
“You have to tell us!” Kurt exclaimed, and you almost felt mad at him. Almost.
Peter cleared his throat. “It was uh- when we were kids? Cause I told you I’d never kissed anyone?”
“Oh but if the mission one doesn’t count then that doesn’t count either. We were like ten!”
“What, were you not a person at ten years old?”
“Come on our real first kiss was that night at the movies wasn’t it? With the… the werewolf movie.”
“No cause that was after the one at the diner.”
“No it wasn’t! It was that one, then the time in your basement, then the diner.”
“But it doesn’t make-” Peter stopped and looked around. 
“What?” You did the same, only to see your friends look like they’d seen a ghost. They were all wide-eyed, either looking at you and Peter or at each other, trying to process the conversation the two of you were having. Okay, so maybe you got a little carried away accidentally.
“Uh-”
And then chaos again.
“You’ve kissed how many times now?”
“Are you sure you’re not together?”
“We’ve been trying to get you together for months! Months! And you tell me this?”
“But we-” you started, but what were you really gonna say? You were the one to talk too much.
Peter stood up. “We… are leaving.” He held his hand up for you to take, and you did so, standing up too. In no time you were in his room at the school, and things were awkward.
You sat down on his bed while he sat down on the chair by his desk, both in silence for a while, neither sure what to say. It was pretty common for you to do that, ignore this kind of thing. As you’d just talked about, you’d had those kinds of moments quite a few times before, but you always ended up unspokenly agreeing to not talk about it after. But it seemed that this time there was no choice.
“Um so.”
He lifted his gaze from the floor to you. “Yeah.”
“I uh. I didn’t realize uh. How many times we’ve- you know.”
“Yeah.” He was fidgeting with his fingers, looking at his hands instead of at you. You were kind of thankful for it.
“You think they’ll be too annoying about it?”
“Have you met them?”
You laughed. “Yeah. Maybe we should have just not played the game.”
“I’m sorry. Or whatever.”
“For what?”
“For bringing it up. It just… came out, you know how I speak without thinking-”
“It’s fine. We’ve kissed a few times, so what?”
“Yeah. Right. It’s what friends do! Right?” He finally looked at you.
“Yes! Platonic friends kiss sometimes. It’s normal.”
“Yeah! Totally. Totally.”
There was silence after that. One that indicated how incredibly not normal it all was.
“Can I ask you something?” Peter blurted out, out of the blue.
“Okay.”
“Did you… like… kissing me?”
“What?”
"Huh?"  He pretended he hadn’t said anything, immediately regretting saying it.
Silence again.
You thought for a moment. “Yeah.”
“What?”
“I liked it. Did you not?”
“I don’t- I-” He stood up in superspeed, but stayed within distance from you. “Yeah. A- a lot.”
“Does that- I mean that’s still like. Normal right?”
“Yeah I mean who- it’s kissing right? Why would- why wouldn’t we like that?”
“Right. Right. Yeah, of course.”
“Would it be that bad?”
“What do you mean?”
“If we were like- you know- not… friends.”
You quirked an eyebrow, and his eyes widened. “Not like that! I mean if we were like, more.”
“Like… if we dated.” It was a statement, but a question too. Were you getting this right?
“Wuh- Yeah. I guess.”
You had no idea what was going on now. After a long time of getting teased by your friends to no end about the blurry lines of your friendship with Peter, you learned to scold yourself when you caught your thoughts drifting to that. After all, you couldn’t- it would just ruin your friendship, and you didn’t want to lose your best friend. 
But now here he was, right in front of you, asking you if it would be so bad if you dated.
…would it?
“Why?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“I just wanna know why you’re asking!”
“Well cause maybe I’d like it if we were dating!” 
“Yeah sure,” you let out a laugh.
“I’m.. not joking.”
You went quiet.
“I know I’m not serious about… well anything I guess,” he let out a small laugh, “but I’m being like 100%, totally for real with you right now.”
“So you have… feelings for me. That’s what you’re saying.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re not joking.”
“No! Why would I joke about that?”
“We joke about that all the time!”
“Not right now!”
“You know I’m 100% kicking your ass if you are, right?”
“I… am pretty aware.”
“Okay.”
He looked at you expectantly, but you didn’t even know what to think about this situation, let alone what to say. 
“Okay? So?” Of course, this was still your Peter, extremely nosey and incredibly impatient.
You took a good look at him. Did you like him the same way he apparently liked you?
Peter was annoying. He was loud and a lot of times way too much, and he always ended up getting you into embarrassing situations. If you ever got in trouble, it was pretty safe to say it was probably his fault. He was stubborn and cocky and annoyingly good at making things play out his way.
But he was your best friend. And he was wearing his stupid silver jacket that matched his stupid silver hair and a stupid graphic shirt with a stupid bear that wore sunglasses on it and the stupid Star Wars pin that you gave him for his stupid fourteenth birthday. He was so utterly and completely stupid, and it was stupid to think this could work.
And maybe you were stupid too, because it seemed that you liked him, a stupid amount. 
“Okay, don’t get too cocky, now.”
He kept staring at you, expecting your next words. 
“I like you too.”
“As in... more than a friend?”
“No I’m actually friendzoning you.”
Finally he opened a grin, relaxing as he caught on to your teasing tone. Now that looked more like him. “Are you? That’s good. I was actually gonna tell you I changed my mind.”
“You did?”
He walked towards you, in a normal speed for once. “Yeah. I think we should stay friends.”
You nodded. “Yeah me too.”
“Friends kiss, right?”
“Platonically.”
“Yeah, platonically.”
You laughed at how ridiculous that excuse sounded now. “We’re so stupid.”
Hee shook his head. “I don’t know what youre talking about.” 
You didn’t have time to keep the joke going, as he finally pulled you closer and leaned in.
You’d kissed a good amount of times before, but this time was different. It wasn’t impulsive, and you weren’t going to regret it after. You wouldn’t have to pretend it didn’t happen when it was over, and you really, really liked the thought of that.
But, of course, you did live with your really, really nosey friends, who you hadn’t noticed had been standing by the door.
“You guys are so confusing!”
Okay, it would be really stupid to think you would ever be able to live this one down.
[. . .]
A/N: treating you guys to these cute little oneshots today past mars was such a cutie i was gonna say i miss her but i dont really
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not-an-alien-scientist · 2 years ago
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Human: Dude I'm not so sure about this whole pack bonding thing you've been talking about humans don't even like each other
Alien: Well is it not true that your species collectively grieved over a non-sentient robot on the planet I believe you designate as "'Mars"?
Human: Okay look, that's different, Opportunity's last words just broke our hearts okay
Alien: But... it did not send a last message of words. It was merely the last data recorded by the non-sentient robot. The data showed scientists low power and also indicated the skies on the planet were dark to the point where no sunlight was visible at the time of the last data transfer, nothing more. x
Human: Exactly
Alien: So why does your species grieve over basic data?
Human: Well you just said it "My battery is low and its getting dark"
Alien: That is a poetic translation of basic data
Human: Are you trying to dishonor Opportunity's work?
Alien: N-no I jus- - -
Human: Opportunity was a good boy who did his best. End of story *huffs out and goes to grab some soda*
Alien: *watches human walk away without any farewell words* ?!?!? *jots down in notes* [ Humans can be very protective of their own even when challenged with basic facts, proceed with caution when discussing pack mates of any type, including all non-sentient pack mates. ]
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godsfaultycreations · 1 year ago
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Mikey Entry #1!!
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It was kinda hard trying to figure out what to do or call this au, but it has been decided!!!
Welcome to the start of the Bamboozle AU :)
Next
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stayconnecteed · 2 months ago
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🪐˓⠀˚⠀i guess i'm in love⠀@⠀kim seungmin.
this is just a cute birthday fic based on the love of my life @skzms and her seungmin's drabble 'seungmin in love', which i totally recommend before you read this. i hope you like it, may, and that i made justice to your words!! i listened to i guess i'm in love by clinton kane while writing this. the beginning of the plot is based on a personal experience! i wish it had ended that way tho askjdhkasjd
SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀4k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.
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You had never mustered the courage to talk to a boy until university made you come out of your shell. The morning you had stepped into the lecture hall for the first time, ready to listen to the dean of your faculty give the introductory talk, you had sat alone in one of the front rows, hanging on every word, your heart racing. You didn't know anyone, and you preferred to focus on the speech, waiting for some extrovert to adopt you, rather than take the first step.
You had always been shy, and you felt a sense of panic at the thought that you might end up alone for the whole degree, but you were incapable of approaching a stranger and starting a conversation. Your fear was a prison and the guardian of an anxiety that swirled in your chest, the number one reason why you had hidden in the same table in the library during all your free hours, and also the consequence of too many bad experiences in the past. 
But then you had met Seungmin.
You hadn't spoken, at least not at first. You hadn't even realised he existed. He was just another classmate in the core subjects shared by all those who studied the same course as you. He smiled softly at the jokes of the teachers he liked, became more serious in the most difficult lectures, and tried not to show his anger when the typical annoying repeat student made their trademark rancid comment. You hadn’t even known his name.
Eventually, you found yourself waiting for those little reactions. Like you, he also showed up ten minutes before the first class started, he also sat alone, and he also came to school with his headphones on, drowning out all the noise in the corridors with the playlist he had made for himself at the beginning of the course. He would arrive with his dark blue backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders, and a book in his hand ーthe same one he would read for a while before the professor arrived. You found yourself smiling as you watched him, writing down the titles of his readings, looking forward to the classes you shared with him.
And then you saw him appear for the first time in the library. You were at one of the more secluded tables, your back to the wall, your laptop a shield protecting you from the other people in the room. And he had slipped quietly in, his ears covered by the black headphones, leaving his backpack on the table in front of yours. For a moment you had stood still, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, the word on your document half-typed, your breath caught in your throat. And then you looked away, and went on with your work. It was stupid to react like that for someone you didn't know.
But the next day your little dance was repeated, sitting opposite each other, in complete silence, a calm and concentrated reflection. As if there was a mirror between the two tables. And the next day, and the next... Until it became a habit. You would leave class a little late because you knew it would take him longer to collect his belongings, and you'd follow each other's shadows with your gazes through the corridors until you reached the library. He would hold the door, and you would smile at him. And when you left him the book you'd used to find out information about a homework topic, he'd return the soft curve in his lips, showing his braces without an ounce of insecurity.
Despite all your little interactions, you hadn't really made any move. The day you realised that there was another girl waiting for him at the end of your class, a more outgoing and prettier one, the kind who always gave the right answers to the teacher. She was asking him if he could explain to her the latest topic discussed in class over a latte in the building's cafeteria. You felt like you intruded, so you left. But that had been the same day you went to the library alone, and you had to open the door for yourself. You missed his smile. And you realised that he was worth every tremor in your hands, only if it meant taking the first step with him.
The next day, you mustered the courage to talk to a boy. To that boy. You approached him before class, sitting one line forward of him, taking a deep breath of air and exhaled it as you tried to keep your nerves under control, your eyes closed. With your pulse racing you had turned, resting your fingertips on his desk, and caught his attention by waving softly. He had looked up from the intertwined sentences of his book, closing it as soon as he saw it was you addressing him, and you enjoyed a few more seconds of your bubble, his brownish gaze all over you, before bursting it.
Your words were quick and breathy, stammering over coffees and shared hours, your gaze anywhere in the class but on his face. Yet he responded calmly, a mask of stillness in contrast to the chaos of emotions spiralling inside him, and you only interrupted the conversation when the teacher began the lesson, Seungmin's gaze returning to your figure every few seconds. That was the first free hour you disrupted your way to the library and accompanied, shoulder to shoulder, your quiet classmate to the cafeteria.
You heard him order an iced americano with syrup, greeting the lady behind the counter with rehearsed confidence, and waiting, tracing his gaze across the profile of your face, for you to say what you wanted. Then he guided you to one of the tables at the back, and let you sit on the bench with its back against the wall. Almost as if, somehow, he knew that it was what you preferred. For a moment  you wanted to get your hopes up, to think that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, but it didn't actually make any sense. So you sighed, and set your bag down beside you, intertwining your fingers in a nervous gesture.
You had been the one to propose the plan, and suddenly you realised that you had been so sure he would say no that you hadn't planned any further.
You wandered your gaze in silence, steadily, slowly, trying not to meet his at any point, your shyness forcing stitches of thread on your lips, unable to utter a word, until the waitress appeared with her tray and your drinks, and Seungmin's raspy ‘thank you’ broke through your bubble. You uttered your own, no sound coming out of your throat, and flashed the start of a smile when he managed to continue a conversation that hadn't existed until then, asking how you had adjusted to the lectures, to college.
And then you let loose like a torrent. The stuttering edges of your lips tightened, answering in short words how your university experience was going, daring even to lock your eyes with his when you returned the question, wanting to hear him speak. And as he told a story similar to yours, albeit with many more friends than you had, you reached your trembling hands towards your cup, taking it and sipping a small amount of coffee.
You tried not to let it show, but the bitterness was enveloping your taste buds in a flavour you were not used to. Your eyebrows furrowed as you winced, swallowing the thick liquid in one gulp, avoiding triggering your gag reflex, and you looked back at Seungmin, who was watching you with a hard stare. He tilted his head, almost like a dog would, and picked up the cup you had just set down on its plate, wetting his lips to taste it. He opened his eyes slightly, muttering a soft, “This is not what you ordered,” and got up to go reclaim it.
You felt the heat rise up your neck and settle on your cheeks, unable to believe what had just happened, and watched from your warm seat as the boy spoke to the woman he had greeted earlier, how she was surprised and certainly apologetic due to the confusion, and the whole process of making from scratch what you had ordered in the first place. It was Seungmin's gentle smile when she returned, treating the porcelain with extreme care so as not to spill the contents, that made you suppress the apology you had thought of saying. Perhaps he had decided that it was his responsibility, that the barista had mistaken the order, but he had done it because he had wanted to. You could read it on his face.
“Thank you so much,” you said, brushing his skin with your fingers as you took the new mug, closing your eyes to smell the sweet, thick hot chocolate you loved so much. “You didn't have to.”
Winter was beginning, and with it the need to drown yourself in cosy blankets, at-home plans and movie classics that had become your favourites over time. So you told Seungmin when you opened your eyes and realised that he was watching you, trying not to retreat into the shyness that had been with you for so long. You were ready to get out of your comfort bubble once and for all, and having a conversation with someone who in your thoughts was no longer a stranger seemed like the natural option.
After that, it was relatively easy. The words flowed between you, asking each other about your lives and replying with more questions, exchanging anecdotes, dropping little jokes that elicited laughter, lost in each other's gaze. As easy as breathing, the minutes passing by on the clock without even being aware of it, learning to read a new language, through what you told each other. Opinions and experiences, comments and compliments, engaged in a dance that only you knew, until the alarm on your phone started ringing, and you realised you were late.
You apologised with hurried syllables, quickly packing up, waving goodbye, heading hastily towards the counter to pay for your drink. You were surprised when the woman indicated that Seungmin had already taken care of it, and you looked back for a few seconds to give him a beaming smile. He mirrored it, leaning against the table you had been sitting at, and waved his fingers in response. It was when you got into the bus, on the way to the restaurant where you had agreed to meet your sister, that you realised you hadn't asked him for his phone number.
Apparently, you weren't the only one to think so.
The morning after your disaster of a first conversation, you arrived early. You sat in the third row, the fourth seat, just like you always did. And you doodled in your notebook, deep in thought, until you heard someone clearing their throat next to you. You looked up, smiling when Seungmin made an exaggerated gesture of wanting to sit next to you, and managed not to burst out laughing at his antics when the teacher came through the door to start the class.
And it was when you were barely able to keep your eyes open, the teacher's voice lulling you into a light sleep, that you noticed the tip of Seungmin's finger brushing your arm. You turned, ignoring the shiver that ran down your spine, and instead of questioning what he wanted, you found a sheet of paper folded over the pen that had slipped from your hand. You opened it discreetly, glancing at Seungmin out of the corner of your eye, curious, and didn't bother to suppress the smile that curved your lips as you read a tight “What's your phone number?”.
You wrote it down quickly, going over each digit twice to make sure there could be no confusion, and slid it across the table for Seungmin to tuck it away. You nodded goodbye to him as the bell rang, and you had to part ways, him going to the opposite side of the corridor, to another class. You grabbed your bag, and sighed, not so keen to attend your remaining lecture. At least until at least twenty minutes into it your phone screen lit up, receiving a new notification.
Unknown number: Hey, is it true that Mr Choi’s classes are soo boring?
Unknown number: Or my contact in his classes has shamelessly lied to me?
The contact in Professor Choi's class was you, because you had complained the day before about him, and the unknown number had to be Seungmin. You put the phone under the table, hoping the teacher wouldn't notice and begin to dislike you, and typed in the answer:
You: Mmm, you shouldn’t trust your contact.
You: They wouldn’t be boring if you were here.
Seungmin 🫶🏼: Naah, I bet my classes wouldn’t be boring if my contact could attend them.
You: You can't use my sentence with me.
You: That's like cheating.
Seungmin 🫶🏼: Would it be cheating if I bribe you with a cup of hot chocolate?
You: Whatever you say, lover boy.
You tried to imagine Seungmin's reaction, your subconscious tricking you with images of him blushing in the middle of class, and left the phone in your bag. That interaction had made your day.
From then on, you could only continue to develop your friendship, intertwing yourselves like a tangled vine, unable to separate from each other. The Christmas holidays had distanced you a bit, each enjoying a few weeks of relaxation with your family, but the study period leading up to the exam season brought you back together at that table in the library, exchanging complicit glances and helping each other take breaks when the stress got too much. He was the perfect study partner, and it was reflected in your grades, none of which dropped below a C.
At the end of finals, in those days before the second semester started, Seungmin had invited you to one of the pubs his friends had shown him. He had told you that they hadn't gone because he didn't want them to say anything stupid in front of you, but you hadn't missed them. With a glass in his hand, he had followed you to the dance floor every time you had asked, neck flushed and shy eyes when he saw the alcohol had disinhibited you enough to move your hips freely. It had been a memorable night. And when it struck three in the morning, he was the one who escorted you to your flat, just to make sure you got there safely, and you were the one who begged him to stay with you.
The second semester began with many hours of late arrivals to class 一something you hated, but which was certainly more bearable in his company.
You would gather as soon as you arrived to the faculty on one of the benches by the entrance, he sitting comfortably with his ankle on his thigh, you with your knees against your chest, jumping from conversation to conversation until the bell started ringing, startling you, and you would run up the stairs together, to get to class before the teacher. You learned to cope with it because somehow the stress of being late was compensated by the way Seungmin would touch you so he wouldn't lose you in the corridors. Always behind you, like a guard dog, guiding you to your class with his hand resting on the small of your back, making sure you got in before he wandered off into the crowd in search of his own, in case you didn't share it.
And in the free hours you got to know his friends, or at least some of them. The first time was in a class that was cancelled at the last minute, on your way to the library, when you saw Seungmin's silhouette in the cafeteria, his broad shoulders framing the back of the chair. You greeted the short boy and the one with the narrow eyes with a shy smile, before asking them if they would let you sit next to Seungmin.
You had seen the knowingly smirks, and also their suspicious gazes, but they had made you feel like a long time friend of theirs, so you shaked the creepy feeling out of your body. You stayed silent most of the conversation, listening to their jokes and anecdotes, smiling upon the fact that they treated Seungmin like a brother 一teasing him to death. And from then on you always found a free seat by his side in your gatherings.
Your confidence with them, with Changbin and Jeongin, solidified at about the same time as you accepted that Seungmin just saw you as one of the group, and you tried to stop getting your hopes up. Throughout the semester, you began to participate in conversations with his friends, gaining confidence, and even participating more in class, socialising with classmates and getting to know some girls with whom you thought a friendship could develop. You noticed Seungmin was becoming a bit distant, but with your Friday movie nights and your weekly coffee (hot chocolate for you, he made sure they didn't mess it up again), you assumed he had simply decided that he had other priorities.
At least until the beginning of sophomore year, the night of Minho's birthday celebration. That october night, you had arrived late to the restaurant where the group had decided to hang out in, and the place where you normally sat, to Seungmin's right, was occupied by a freckle-faced blond you had seen around the dorm on some occasion. You greeted Seungmin with a quick kiss on the cheek, a high five with Jeongin, and went straight to the birthday boy, to congratulate him with a hug.
You had spent the whole week crocheting cute fruit-shaped hats for his cats, just because a joke you two had, and Minho's genuine reaction had been to take you in his arms and turn you around, both of you giggling. You remembered that he had told you he couldn't wait to get home to try them on his babies, and you had commented that it was a crime for him to be all lonely on the table on such a special day. With the excuse, you had sat next to each other, leaning like two old oaks so that you could hear each other over the music, your knees touching and his arm over your chair.
At one point, after all the group had gathered, when you had followed Minho's unfocused gaze at Seungmin, his eyes gave off such a hard acrimony that you thought you had done something awfully wrong.
You tried to talk to him about it the next day, when you woke up in your bed, but he wasn't by your side. Seungmin, who normally would be curled up against one of your pillows, had actually slept on the sofa instead, and when you asked him why over breakfast, you got no answer. You could see him building up anger and complex emotions inside, unable to utter a word, trying to decide what to do, before desist and wish you a good morning, leaving you on the kitchen. The absence of that trust you thought you shared broke your heart.
And yet, that very same night he showed up at the university party night that Jeongin had proposed 一Thursdays were his favourite days to go out. He appeared at the pub without even looking at you, as if it pained him to see you, deliberately sitting at the other end of the table. The second time since the two of you had met that you weren't next to each other.
At that moment you ordered the first drink. And they just kept on coming.
You tried not to care. For a few hours, you managed to make it happen. But when that boy approached you, with the soft look Seungmin always gave you, with the same wide smile he reserved for you, you decided that willing to lie to yourself, at least you should get something out of it. So when he pressed his hips to yours, you let him, and when he put his arms around your waist, you allowed it. You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing that his body didn't feel next to yours the way Seungmin's did, and as you felt him slide his hand down the back of your neck, you smiled, kissing him back just as eagerly.
But the spell melted on your fingers as you parted, and you found all the details in his face that made him so different from Seungmin. So you apologised to him, again and again as you escaped his embrace, wandering around the dance floor until you collided with Changbin. He gave you a bright smile, asking you how you were doing with Wonwoo, but the pout that formed on your lips made him react, taking you by your shoulders and interrogating you about the guy, Wonwoo, if he had crossed a line with you. All you managed to do was deny, before asking him to take you home.
It was a terrible night. For you, and for him, who nursed you back to sleep.
And it was also terrible to wake up, when you realised you were alone in your flat. Alone, tangled in your sheets, and the alarm clock ringing, reminding you that you had a schedule to follow, and you had to go to class.
Seungmin was not on your self proclaimed bench when you arrived, though you sat down to wait for him anyway. And when the bell rang you walked up the stairs, slowly, like a soul wandering the corridors of the faculty, ignoring the professor's disapproving face when you interrupted his speech by opening the door. You paid no attention to his words, sittimg down and doodling on your notebook, enduring as best you could the hour that lasted, leaving as soon as you could.
But then you saw him. With his blue backpack slung over his shoulder, and the brown sweatshirt you had stolen from him some chilly afternoons. And you made eye contact with him, but continued on your way. You couldn't face him. All you could think about was the way he had ignored you, as you heard his footsteps, and how you had kissed another boy just because it looked like him. You went down the stairs, the necessity to get out of there bubbling in your chest, wlaking through the doors of the building. You knew he was behind you, but you wanted to be able to ignore him too.
Until you heard him.
“I love you,” he whispered, and you stopped in your tracks, paralysed. He then repeated it, this time louder. “I love you, I’m so sorry but I love you.”
Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned around slowly, utterly convinced that it was your imagination. But his kicked out expression was a reflection of how you felt, brows furrowed upwards, the waterline of his pretty eyes covered by a bubble of unreleased tears, tortured by his absence. And his cheeks were coloured red, flushed with the shame that let you know it was true. Still, he was looking at you with a devotion you were able to clearly see now, like you hung the stars in the sky. All you had once imagined was true, and he was there, waiting for your response.
So you approached him, a shy smile curving your lips, and rested your hands on his shoulders, nodding.
“I love you too,” you murmured, lips moving against his, his breathe hitching. And kissed him. Eyes closed, feeling a sigh slipping in between your mouths, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs while he took you by your waist. And you kept smiling, your chest exploding in relief, savouring him like it would be the last time you would see him.
“I love you too, you jerk,” your repeated, resting your forehead on his.
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honeysickledream · 1 month ago
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Who's Who, Darling? | TF!141 x F!Reader
cw: fivesome (F/M/M/M/M), blindfolds, oral (f!receiving), fingering, edging, use of safeword, reader gets overstimulated, aftercare, no descriptions of reader or use of y/n | lmk if i missed something [NSFW 18+ minors and ageless blogs DNI]
pairing: TF!141 x F!Reader | reads as the start of Poly!141 x F!Reader at the end
can be found on ao3 too | pt 2
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You complain to the guys that your paperwork is never-ending and that it's completely fucked up your dating/sex life. It’s been a month, almost two, since you’ve had a proper day off and properly gotten laid, and it’s destroyed your ability to focus. They offer out of the goodness of their hearts to cover your paperwork for the rest of the year if you can determine who’s who while they fuck you blindfolded. 2-for-1 special right there: no more paperwork the next few months and you get to end your dry spell. A time and place are set, boundaries and expectations agreed upon, and you spend the next day trying to find ways to make identifying them easier for yourself.
It’s not long after they arrive at your place that you’re blindfolded with some random sleep mask Simon grabbed on the way over, and then lying stripped and spread out on the edge of your bed. The night starts with you trying to determine who’s eating you out, and it’s easy at first. You correctly guess Price moments after he starts to lap at your clit. You know it’s him because of the facial hair (the others showed up clean shaven, smart move). Soap is next and you let him have his go a little longer than you let Price. He’s noisy and sloppy, groaning with each drag of his tongue against you, nuzzling your cunt eagerly. You're certain that if the blindfold wasn't there you'd see his face covered in your slick. He complains about you not being fair as he moves away to let whoever was next have his go. The third man’s hard to name—obviously it's either Ghost or Gaz, but whoever it is, they’re too quiet, too smooth, too methodical for you to confidently say a name. Whoever it is stops right before you come and the second one is tapped in when you’ve calmed down just enough. It becomes a cycle: one gets you to the edge before backing off to let the other tease and frustrate you some more. Price and Soap think it’s fucking hilarious how whiny and worked up you’re getting, you’re lightheartedly plotting revenge against those two. It’s not until whoever is currently between your legs slips a finger in you that you’re almost 100% sure you know who it is: Gaz. He’s got the nicest hands out of them, his fingers the longest you think. He slowly pulls his finger out before pressing it back in while sucking at your clit.
There’s a rush of cold air against you when he pulls off and eases another finger into you. It’s Ghost who suddenly lies half on top of you and latches his lips around your clit. He sucks hard before pulling off to nip and pinch and sometimes trace letters against it with the tip of his tongue. Gaz manages to slip a third finger in right before you finally come. Suddenly it’s all too much: your vision black from the mask and now from your climax, the sudden awareness of their eyes on you, the almost suffocating warmth of the room—you’re mumbling out your safeword and their energy shifts. The sleep mask is carefully pulled off your head and you’re hauled up by your arms as Price moves behind you. You’re shaky and sweaty, whining so pitifully that if your brain hadn’t been so full of fuzz, you’d feel a bit of annoyance that they’d gotten you in such a state. He pats your thighs as you flop between his legs, head against his shoulder. Ghost’s cracking open a bottle of water for you, holding it to your lips to let you drink slowly. Gaz is asking you question after question, Soap’s wiping the sweat from your forehead, Price’s hands have moved to massage your shoulders, and Ghost’s opening another bottle of water while confirming that supper will be here in an hour. The only mention of the round two that was supposed to happen comes from Ghost who says it’ll happen some other time, that you did well enough tonight for the paperwork deal to stand and for you to get your much needed rest. They let you get up from the bed once your shaking has faded and your breathing has regulated. You take your time in the bathroom, Gaz occasionally popping his head in to make sure you’re all good. The food arrives at some point, Ghost’s voice carrying through the house as he tips the delivery person and brings the food up to your room.
You’d expected to see them all scarfing down the food, leaving crumbs on your bed and desk, but that’s not the scene at all. Soap and Price are star-fished on your bed, snoring up a storm while Gaz and Ghost discuss plans to renovate your shower to make it big enough for the five of you--the five of you…you really like the sound of that.
You tell them a second water heater will be needed as you riffle through the plastic to-go bags to find something you’ll like. Gaz asks about color schemes—he’s not a fan of the current beige on ocean foam with chrome accents—and Ghost’s mumbling out mathematical formulas for water usage and shower dimensions that make your head hurt a bit.
If they’re serious about it being the five of you (they are), you’ll need a bigger bed, too. Alaskan King, maybe? Oh…you’ll also need to find a deeper, longer couch, too.
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a/n: i honestly ran out of smut-writing steam so round two will happen...some other time. my second proper attempt at writing smut, woo...
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syrena-del-mar · 5 months ago
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Navigating the Conflict in My Stand In: Surrender and Softening in Love
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(Disclaimer: Ming/Joe is an incredibly toxic relationship; I fully realize and acknowledge that, but Poom makes a critical distinction in Joe's reasoning, and I think it's interesting to dissect. Also, this is fiction.)
It's been some time since I've written any meta, but I can't stop thinking about the video @poomphuripan shared of Poom making the distinction that Joe isn't giving in to Ming, but rather, his heart is melting for him.
It makes so much sense that Joe would melt at the littlest semblance of 'love.' He was so alone for so long. His parents have been dead for longer than he had them, he has no siblings, and his extended relatives don't care about him. I forget if it's mentioned in the show, but in the novel, Joe had a pretty big crush on Sol, and Sol rejected him quite brutally. Even without meaning to be, Joe is always alone at the end of the day.
Yes, Joe has friends, and yes, Joe made his own found family. But at the end of the day, Joe would return to an unlit, empty home. Everyone else would return to their wives or families, while Joe could only return to the pictures of his parents. Meanwhile, for all of Ming's bs and frightening behavior, he was the only one that made his dream come true.
For the first time, with Ming around, Joe would come home and be greeted by the warmth of another living, breathing person. Joe craved to have a human bond, and Ming was the one who was willing (albeit for his own interest) to give it to him. And he cooked for him. He took up space in his home! He remembered the very things Joe had told him he longed for. They had a lot of good times, a lot of good memories, and a pretty set routine that really integrated Ming into Joe's life. But then they fight, his blissful reality breaks, and Joe dies.
But Joe wakes up from what feels like a day's nap when, in actuality, two years have passed. And what does he find? Ming has cared for his apartment since his death and is unwilling to change anything just in case Joe returns. Ming continues to fulfill Joe's dream of returning to a warm home. So he turns on the lights, and he cooks the same dinner that they used to share for two years. And even in his rightful anger of wanting Ming to leave him alone, he's still seeing that. In the two years since his disappearance, someone still thought about him and hadn't fully grieved him. Ming's brother only confirms that.
Giving in would mean that Joe wanted to end the fight with Ming, when no feelings had changed. It'd be him emotionally surrendering himself, compromising his feelings of being just a double for Tong, and fully conceding himself when he still thought that Ming only saw him as a replacement. While Joe might have given Ming access to his body to pay his new mom's debts, he was still blocking Ming out as much as he could. But that's not why Joe forgives Ming; it's not for a superficial reason to stop the feud. There's a visible shift in how he perceives Ming, the guy who waited two years for him, who protected and filled his home with warmth, just in case he wasn't really gone. His motivation was rooted in the slivers of positive feelings he had for Ming, which allowed him to move past the anger that he held for him.
A quote that I've seen floating around the internet for years comes to mind. "And when nobody wakes you up in the morning and when nobody waits for you at night and when you do whatever you want. What do you call it? Freedom or loneliness?" Joe has had that freedom for the majority of his whole life. It's no longer freedom for him. But even his found family isn't fully aware of the loneliness that would wash over him when he would return to an empty home.
After all is said and done, he sees that only one person knows him intimately enough to understand and learn even the most mundane of his desires. Ming, even with all the toxic shit he has pulled, stood by his word of not letting Joe return to an empty home. For Joe, that was enough. It changes how he sees and understands Ming.
It's also why Sol and Joe would have never worked out.
As Poom said, ultimately, it's not that he gives in to Ming but rather he lets his heart melt when he sees exactly what Ming has done for him in his absence.
Even after everything, Joe still loves him.
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xitsensunmoon · 10 months ago
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Thinking about how dca would always feel incomplete. How tech always gets old and impractical and needs to be upgraded again and again and again, because the world around is changing all the time but they don't.
You also change.
They feel a weird combination of pride and jealousy. You change on your own. You, a human being, something so fragile and breakable in their eyes, can change however you want. Whenever you want.
It's in your nature.
They, on the other hand, are created by your folk's hands. Their only nature is to obey those hands. To rust until you say otherwise.
Do you even realise how much unpronounced power you have over someone like them? They think you don't.
Yes, they're made to be stronger. Maybe more durable in some ways. If anything, something like them may kill the humanity one day.
But then they'll rust. But not in a physical sense of this word.
The world around them will change. But they will stay the same.
Because unlike you, something that they deem to be as fascinating as it is terrifying,
they cannot adapt.
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pettyprocrastination · 3 months ago
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I'm sorry to the gang but I think initially Aemond is a bad lover.
Like, to actually think about it.
His first ever sexual interaction is with a prostitute twice his age that he was coerced into by his older brother, and it seems like he's never seen that woman again until season one when he returned to the brothel in search of aegon hence her speaking on how much he's grown since she last saw him which he seemed visibly uncomfortable within.
It's likely that his interaction with Sylvie was his first and only sexual interaction.
Which means that when he married you and it comes time to consummate your marriage and try for an heir. The sex is...less than ideal.
It's methodical and routine. Your husband above you rutting into you until he cums and then some because the maestro said his seed must "settle" for a child to take hold.
In his mind, sex is done out of obligation and dedication. It's an expectation for a man of a noble house to sire a son to continue the name. And what does he know of pleasure? The vile whispers his brother croons with no intention other than to see his younger brother uncomfortable? The prostitute he laid with before he was even a man himself? Those situations did nothing but make his skin crawl- it's no wonder that his sex is nothing further than noble obligation to his wife and his lineage.
It's less than an issue in your eyes until a knight tasked with standing guard by your door each night speaks I'll of the prince to his brothers in arms.
It spreads like wildfire before the day is even finished. What was once gentle ribbing between men in arms became vile wishes towards you- the dragon prince's wife. Conversation of how it's "a damn shame to let a pretty little thing like her go to waste" and how if they had their chance they'd show you how a proper man lays with a woman.
And maybe one idiotic son of a lord brought into the kingsguard, egged on by too much wine and the racacous laughter of his brethren jests that perhaps one night he'll slip into your room and show you how a proper man fucks when your husband is a way.
"Let the cyclops ride his dragon if it means the princess will ride mine."
Unfortunate for him that our husband happened to be entering the training yard just in time to hear his promise to his brothers in arms.
Now the thing with Aemond is that he's deeply prideful, but also so, so, so desperate for approval. He's spent his entire life chasing it and getting so little in return. His mother was insistent on what makes a good husband- loyalty, dedication, listening to ones wife unlike the way he watched his father wave away her concerns all throughout his childhood. He was adamant about being the proper husband in every strict tradition and stiff display of affection he offered you-
but nobody helped him with sex. So to learn through the vile words of some idiotic guards that he has left his wife wanting becomes the only thought in his mind and must be rectified.
You've only just begun your day when your husband slips into your room, telling whoever is stationed by your door to leave as he locks it behind him before standing before you, hands twitching and eye looking anywhere in the room but you.
So nervous, like a little boy all over again.
When you ask him gently what's wrong he does not hide it from you.
"I have left you wanting, haven't I?"
You let out an incredulous laugh, so taken aback by the blunt question you don't know what would be an appropriate response.
To say he hasn't would be a lie.
To say he has could harm his ego, further spurring his rage.
Instead, you gently cup his face where a pale hand envelopes your own.
"Most men do not concern themselves with the comfort of their wife."
Your blaise response hurts more than saying yes.
"I am not most men."
Your husband, the crown prince and rider of a generations old war hardened beast, looks at you with eager eyes and tells you- asks you to show him how you wish to be touched.
How to fuck you.
You spend the night In his arms, gentle guiding him on where you wish to be kissed, bitten, and licked. How to hold you, where to touch and how hard. Your husband is a receptive one, content to go for hours upon hours until your legs are trembling and there are tears in your eyes because once he learned the utter euphoria of seeing your sing his name in the breathy moan there was nothing he desired more in this wretched world to hear it again and again and again.
When you do finally rest, bodies slick with sweat and exhaustion creeping through your veins, you find yourself wrapped in his arms and his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder. He says nothing about siring a child, or the maestros advice, but simply kisses the spot just beneath your ear before letting himself slowly drift into a deep sleep, the first moment within your marriage that he is truly relaxed in your presence.
The next morning his family is kind enough to say nothing of the bite marks lining your neck as you eat breakfast, just as they are mindful to not ask of the head that once belonged to a member of the kings guard that now belonged on a spike before the castle walls.
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hezzabeth · 1 year ago
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"For the last time, that poem isn't romantic! It's insulting," Revati yelled over her shoulder as she began to pedal.
The layout of Olde Landon had been deliberately designed to keep tourists inside for as long as possible. There was only one way to access the front gates, and that involved defeating the Queen of Hearts' hedge maze. When the park was still open, tourists would be forced to spend at least an hour in the maze, stumbling upon tiny toy shops and food stands around every corner. The same thing occurred when they left, resulting in a very rich park and bankrupt guests. Now the maze was overgrown and easy enough to navigate.
Revati pedaled past the cart that once sold her heart-shaped sunglasses. Then she turned left, almost crashing into the wall of roses. The wall of roses stared back at her, their red blooms heavy and suspicious. Thanks to Bridgadeiro, she knew they were probably secretly insulting her.
The next turn consisted of an old stardust popcorn stand. Revati skidded to a stop and inspected the inside tray, where a few ancient kernels lay. Carefully, she picked up several of them and placed them in her jacket pocket. As far as she could tell, the kernels were seeds. Someone was shifting around the corner, causing the branches to shake.
"Aurora, is that you? Did you go ahead of me?" Revati yelled.
"While conferring in the labyrinth where false preachers reeked of death, the monster began to growl," a voice called from around the corner. An unfamiliar, flat female voice. Raiders. Raiders were, of course, an occupational hazard in any post-apocalyptic settlement. Normally, they never made it further than the broken glass pit at the park's gates. Sometimes Dityaa would bring one in, insisting they were "lovely," which always led to awkward dinners.
Revati slowly walked around the maze corner. There was a screeching metallic sound, and the weapon fell from Revati's hand. An android was slumped over on the ground. Once it would have been golden, but now it was rusty and covered in mud. Someone had ripped its legs off, leaving nothing but wires and tubes spitting bright blue fluid. Instead of a torso, there was a black empty hole with a concave door swinging on its bent hinges.
"And in the forgotten twists, footsteps quicken, hearts beat, and teeth are bared," the android chirped, its voice still distorted and far away. The android's face was a beautiful mask. Still-carved eyes. Unmoving sweet lips.
Revati powered up her solar gun and slowly walked forward, aiming it at the android. The android's metal eyes scraped in their sockets, turning towards her.
“Is that you? My darling Perdita?” The android’s voice whispered, the lips unmoving. The whispering voice had a posh lilt to its accent. Revati refused to answer. It was best to never engage with AI.
“Perdita, I clawed my way in! They know about you; the spider knows,” the android whispered before collapsing completely.
Revati slowly walked forward, still holding her weapon. With one foot, she kicked the android. It didn’t move. Its power had definitely died.
“Spider? Is that some sort of gang?” Revati whispered to herself. Gangs were always given stupid names.
“The spider is us; the spider is legion,” a flat robotic voice called out, and Revati spun around.
Queen Victoria was standing behind her, scorch marks all over her dress. A faint blue glow was erupting from beneath the skin of Queen Victoria’s chest.
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itsmarsss · 3 months ago
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hunchback of notre-dame [Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader] (Marvel)
You get this ridiculous idea that you just need to mark a huge heart into his back.
Word count: 1,945
Warnings: sexual innuendos and jokes all around, mention of logan being a 'free pass' in your relationship lol, wade having a hard time grasping intimacy that isn't of a sexual nature, wade feeling self-conscious and speaking badly of his own appearance. established relationship. so many ridiculous and over-the-top pet names.
kiiinda loosely based off this ask- "Deadpool with s/o who keeps biting him? Not sexually (mostly) but I need to CHOMP this man."
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“Please? Please please please please please please? Come onnnn sweetie-pie. Darling-dear. Baby boy. Baby.”
“Oh my God never call me ‘darling-dear’ again, what is this, medieval england?”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“Geez Louise why do you wanna do that so bad? Is it like a biting kink or something?”
“It could be.” You shrug.
“I’m listening.”
You roll your eyes at his reply. “‘Course now you are. I just wanna see how it looks!”
“It’s gonna heal in like two seconds, you know that, right?. I’m not sure it’ll even show.”
“Yeah but get this- what if you tried really really hard to stop it from healing?”
“I… don’t think that’s how it works, pookie-bear,” he tells you, booping your nose along with the ridiculous pet name.
You ignore it. “You don’t know that!”
He stops to think for a couple seconds before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. This once.”
“Yes! Take your shirt off. And throw it in the wash, how many days have you been wearing it for?”
“Oh, too many to count, sweetheart.” 
“That’s gross, Wade.”
“Hey now, I’m gonna revoke your biting privileges!” He threatens, but proceeds to take the shirt off as and throw it in the hamper anyway.
“Nuh-uh, no take-backsies.”
“Then stop insulting my habits!” He sits down on the bed and you sit yourself on your legs right behind him. 
“What? When have I ever done that?” You feign confusion, kissing his shoulder.
“Now that’s just gaslighting. You’re a gaslighter. A mean, evil, toxic gaslighter and you’re gaslighting me.”
You laugh. “Oh whatever, grown man who needs to be reminded to do his laundry. You ready?”
“No?”
“Why do you even care so much? You get, like, stabbed on the daily.”
“Yeah but this isn’t… stabbing. Stabbing I’m used to.”
“I can stab you if you want me to.”
“Can you really?” 
“If you’re into that,” you play along.
“Oh you know I am, baby. No but that’s not what I meant.”
You kiss his lower back without a warning, and you can’t contain a smile at the way he shivers. “What do you mean, then?”
“This is… different.” He fidgets with his own hands as he talks, eyes trained on them over his own lap.
“What, not every person you’ve ever dated that’s asked to bite a heart into your back?” You continue kissing your way up his back, up until where you want said heart to start.
“Oh no, everyone asks me for that on the reg actually. I’m actually super mega lucky that I heal so fast, otherwise I’d just have to come home with all those hearts on my back all the time and you would not be happy with that would you?”
You punch his shoulder lightly and he smiles. “You bet I wouldn’t! Only I get to do this, you hear me?” You exclaim, feigning offense.
“Wolvie carved a heart into my thigh once. Hottest thing to ever happen to me. No offense.”
“None taken.” You bite the skin of his back right where you’d just kissed before. Not so hard that it’s meant to hurt, it’s not that kind of night, but not as if he’d break either, since, well, he kind of can’t. You suck lightly on the skin to make sure to leave a tiny mark and it’s a little funny to be doing this with no ulterior motives. “Especially since that for sure never happened.”
“It could have.” 
“If Logan ever carves a fucking heart into your thigh and I’m not there to witness it I will be so mad.” 
“Hey I thought we had a free pass with him!”
“Not if I’m not involved! Or at least get to watch.”
“Aye, aye, captain. Anything else you wanna witness between us, sweetcheeks?”
“I’ll tell you when I’m done, how about that?” You grin before resuming your work, biting and sucking on the scarred skin until you can see the aligned marks almost forming the shape you want them to. 
It’s a shock that it gets him to shut up for even just a few seconds, so it’s no surprise that the silence doesn’t last all that long. “This is…  It’s different… It’s… It’s really intimate isn’t it? Like overwhelmingly so. Is it hot in here, are you hot?”
You stop immediately. “Hey. Don’t freak out on me. I know I insisted a little but I didn’t think you were hesitating ‘cause you were uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have-” 
“No- no no no no no, it’s fine. It’s… Nice. It’s silly, but it’s nice. Just different.”
You stare at him until he manages to get himself to look up at you and nod, easing your worries and letting yourself believe him. “Okay. But only if you’re sure. And don’t call me silly!”
“You’re making it really hard, sugartits.”
“Hey!” You flick the back of his head.
“Ow! What was that for? It’s obvious that by ‘it’ I meant my dick. I was dirty talking. Clearly.”
“You’re ridiculous.” You bite into his skin again. He stays still and weirdly quiet once again, eyes closed and still shivering occasionally as you trace kisses along his back before following them with bites and, finally, the main goal- the hickeys. 
“You done?”
“Almost. Missing three.”
“They all still there?”
“They’re fading, but they’re still there. You trying to keep them?”
He shrugs, very obviously trying his hardest to pretend he doesn’t care. “Well you wanted me to, didn’t you?” 
You smile, cupping his jaw with one of your hands and turning his face to the side so you can give him a quick kiss. 
“Almost done,” you promise.
“Do it harder.”
“What?”
“Bite harder.”
“What, is this you saying you have some sort of biting kink?”
“First of all, you should have guessed that. Second of all, no, I just don’t want them to fade so fast.” 
“So someone’s enjoying the idea now.”
“Enjoying is pushing it. Curious is a better-fitting word.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Making the last of the marks, you lean back to admire the work. “Done,” you announce, tracing the shape with the tips of your fingers. 
“Well, can I see it?”
“Yeah.” You pull him to his feet and lead him to the full body mirror in the corner of the room. Turning himself around so his back is facing the mirror, he looks over his shoulder so he can see it too.
“Oh.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I thought it would… you can barely see it with the… you know. The scars.”
“Of course you can see it! Look!” You trace the shape on his skin with your pointer finger for him to see in the reflection.
“You know what I meant.” 
“I- didn’t want it to make you feel bad. It was really silly anyway. You can let it heal if you want to.”
“It’s not- it’s not that. Fuck, I know this was supposed to be this whole funny haha silly cutesy little thing but I just- I don’t even know why you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Put up with it.”
“What exactly?”
“This. It’s not really the best view in town, is it?” There he goes, unable to look you in the eye again.
“Sorry?”
“Like why would you even want to see this? You just spent like ten minutes staring at my back, which frankly looks like I single-handedly brought leprosy back to fashion and then you- just- like even just my face is enough for people to, like, projectile vomit. Why’d you make yourself do this right now?”
“I didn’t make myself do anything. I had to convince you to let me do it´.”
“‘Cause you wanna prove something.”
“What would I wanna prove with something so dumb?”
“I don’t know. That you don’t see me as a monster or something.” 
“I don’t see you as a monster. But I wasn’t trying to prove anything.”
Letting his face fall into his hands, he lets out a frustrated sigh, as if he hadn’t meant for the conversation to come to this. And he probably hadn’t, really, but he already did so much of pretending to be fine all the time. It sucked to see him like this, but at least he was letting himself be real, be honest with you about the way he was feeling. 
You’ve come a long way to gain this kind of trust. 
“Sorry. Ruined the moment. Way to go, Wade!” He apologizes.
“You don’t have to say sorry, you know that by now.” 
He glances at the mirror again and sees all the marks have gone away already, his mind going elsewhere and interrupting the focus he’d been putting into trying to put off the healing of them. He finally turns around to actually face you. “See? Can’t even have this one fucking silly little thing you wanted. It’s gone already cause, guess what, I’m a fucking freak of nature now. Like The Hunchback of Notre-Dame or something. I don’t know, I didn’t watch the movie.” 
You laugh. “Well I’ll just be Esmeralda then.”
“Who the fuck is that?”
“Oh you’d find her so hot, dude. But doesn’t matter.” You walk up to him, kissing him gently from his ear to his jaw to his neck to his lips. “Don’t fucking question why I love you ever again, that’s, like, so rude.”
“Oh that was just so sappy, even for you babe, massive sap vibes all over.”
“Oh shut up you big baby.” You place a last gentle kiss on the palm of his hand. “I have an idea.” You pull yourself away from him, disappearing into the bathroom.
“Yeah? Does it involve pity sex? Cause I’m feeling down and I am ready to pounce if you are and-“ He raises an eyebrow in question when you come back holding up something. “That some new vibrator or something?” 
“Can you wait like ten seconds?” 
“Ten seconds? Babe, you know that’s asking too much of me when I’m this horny. They don’t call me The Flash for nothing.” 
“Who is ‘they’? And what does that even mean?”
“Sorry, wrong franchise. You wouldn’t get it.”
“Huh?”
“Back to the vibrator.”
“It’s lipstick.” You turn to face the mirror, taking your time applying the dark red color to your lips. “Kay, turn around, pretty boy.”
“Oooh, kinky! You gonna gimme a rimjob with that lipstick on?  Wait is that another kink? We are full of surprises today.” He quips, turning around as asked. 
“Wade please shut up.” 
“You know I can’t do th- aaahh what are you doing?” He flinches, taken by surprise by the kiss you place on his back, right where the heart you’d marked on him had been.
“Well you can keep these ones a little longer.” This time, he keeps quiet the entire time you take to mark the heart on his back once again, with the lipstick this time, reapplying it before every other kiss so the marks truly showed. 
“Fuuuckkk I’m never washing my back again,” he comments as he admires the reflection in the mirror.
“Don’t even start.” 
“I’m staying dirty forever and it’s gonna be your fault, sweetheart,” he declares as he turns around to face you, and it pleases you to see his mood seems better. 
“We are taking a shower in a couple hours and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“We?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively at the implication.
“If that gets you to actually shower for once.”
“Hey, I shower all the time!”
“Then you can shower without me like a big boy.” 
“Actually I don’t take showers I don’t know how.” 
“Yeah, yeah I figured.”
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A/N: hey send me stuff for deadpool i actually enjoyed writing this lol it was v fun and cute!! i hope it isn't much too ooc lol i still gotta get the hang of writing wade
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spaceagebachelormann · 11 months ago
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Hello! If you’re taking headcanon requests, may I please request headcanons for what Count Dracula & Erik the Phantom would be like as husbands?
dracula and erik as husbands !
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✧ warnings — some mentions of death and possible spoilers for dracula and phantom of the opera. also like 2 sexual jokes i think
✧ additional info — i got so so excited by this request omg <3 if u wanna id rlly appreciate it if u sent me more requests for phantom of the opera and classic monsters!! also not really specific versions of them but i mainly had the book versions in mind
✧ m.list — nav.
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ೃ༄ erik destler
he wouldn’t wait to marry you
like at all
the second you show him you’re willing to be in a relationship with him and he’s sure you won’t leave him he’s already planning your wedding
of course if you wanted to take it more slowly he might be a little impatient but he’d try his best for you :)
but he’d be so happy if u were ready to get married as soon as possible
the sad thing is he’d get so stressed while trying to plan it because he’d want it to be absolutely perfect because that’s what he didn’t get with christine
and he’d try to convince you not to worry about it or help plan the wedding becaus he wants it to be a surprise for you
however he’d talk to you about what you want <3
so unfortunately he doesn’t know a lot of people 😭 so your wedding audience consists of daroga, mme giry, and maybe christine and raoul if ur lucky and manage to convince them (but they’ll be a little on edge)
and u can invite ur family if they’d be accepting of erik!
once y’all are married it’s so sweet and romantic ohmygod
he’d make u breakfast and dinner every single day, even if he’s had a particularly bad day
he just loves doing things for you
he’d also love writing even more songs and sometimes even entire operas for you or about you, you’re his muse
before he was able to take breaks from bis work to focus on you for awhile
but now you’re married he just can’t be away from you for two minutes
will sit on the floor and talk to u while u shower
or he showers with u
his love language is spontaneously twirling u around and redoing ur wedding dance in the most random places
also carrying u to ur bed if u fall asleep on him or somewhere else, before marriage he’d just let u sleep there and make sure he doesn’t wake u up
such a sweetheart <3
ೃ༄ count dracula
takes his time to marry you
but that’s only because he takes a lot of time working out when and where to propose and shit
and then probably has the wedding planned before you even say yes
which obviously you do
he’d be a little cocky abt u saying yes ngl cause he already knew u would
but the wedding itself obviously takes place at night and mainly other vampires will show up, but he won’t let them remotely near you assuming he hasn’t turned you yet
if he has then go talk to them!! there’s no risk of u dying or getting turned by someone else!!
he’d also rlly like cooking for u and shit since he canonically had to sprint around his castle to make it seem like he had butlers or whatever 😭😭
how good is fucking amazing btw
like god damn
and obviously he has a comfortable ass vampire bed that he’d let u put 60 pillows on if u want
he’d also like have a thing for ur hair no matter how short or long it is
he likes standing behind u and running his hands through it when u do literally anything for funsies
and his fingers are really pretty and long and cold so they feel nice
he also brushes it a lot esp in the mornings
he also doesn’t even look another persons way when he’s with u
ever.
and his brides are now just. draculas sisters or wtv 😭
unless u want them to be ur wives too he won’t complain
as much as he loves you there’s time where he js like. wants personal time to go kill people think
id also imagine ur very close with renfield
like draculas kinda mean to him but ur rlly nice to him <3
like for example waving at him when u see him or just going “hi renfield!!”
renfields probably the one who found u ngl
i can’t think of anything else for him mb pookie 😔 i’ll add to this later
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limblesstar · 3 months ago
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odysseus the line cook au
odysseus is a line cook, 40 years old, hasnt gotten a promotion in the decade hes worked there
coworker is diomedes, fresh(ish) out of culinary school, head chef , 27
odysseus is not very fond of this fact
its a fine dining restaurant, they do not act like it is.
boss is circe who cannot stand any of them,
their manager is hermes, he is chill with everything going on, doesnt really care as long as the kitchen is clean and they get dishes out. too busy smoking weed. could of had his own restaurant but didnt want the responsibility
married to penelope whos a professor in textile materials and technology, busy teaching and grading papers usually.
odysseus and diomedes have a very weird hot work situationship, his wife is very okay with it. odysseus is in love with him
theyre just bros, its not gay to fuck in the walk in freezer
what they do depends on the day and how much they can get away with.
penelope actually wants diomedes to move in so he 1. pays bills 2. she can pawn telemachus onto him 3. wants to know whats up
odysseus chain smokes on his break. he desperately wants to quit because his wife thinks its kind of gross and second hand smoke but he just cant kick the habit
lives in an apartment complex, absolute girlfailure.
poor relationship with father, could of been the greatest nepo baby but dropped out of his degree in commerce to go to culinary school
THIEF AND A LIAR
house is filled with equipment from his work, biggest thing hes stolen is a stand mixer that he convinced circe he threw out because it was broken. everything in his fridge is stored in a stolen quart container
doesnt steal any produce because he thinks its poor quality
ACTIVELY HATES CUSTOMERS
if diomedes wasn't there odysseus would be spitting in peoples food (he does it if the customers piss him off enough and if diomedes isnt looking)
maternal family has mob connections that he doesnt use (he can do it on his own)
on his off day he likes to bbq on his balcony to the displeasure of all his neighbours. hangs out with his son too
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deimosphilic · 2 years ago
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jake sully, who whimpers when you tug on his hair. who will forcibly tell you to tug it just because he loves the pleasure and pain it brings. “please pull my hair baby. pull it.”
jake sully, who hides his face in the crook of your neck just to hide his whimpers and groans, even though it does nothing. “mhmm” “aughh”
jake sully, who could cum on the spot just by watching you ride his thigh. who will bounce it up and down just to help stimulate your clit. “oh you love that don’t you, sweetheart.”
jake sully, who mocks the noises you make when he fucks you until you can’t even remember your own name. “-and you were like ‘oh jake, p- please’”
jake sully, who makes sure to finger his cum back into your pussy so that he can watch as his babies grow inside of you. who will rub your swollen belly, just for his pleasure. who will stare at your tits, anywhere and in front of anyone, with no shame, which have grown since pregnancy.
jake sully, the sluttiest man on the planet.
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godsfaultycreations · 1 year ago
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Animal Crossing Time
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the sillies playing animal crossing
Taco Bell
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