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yoonyia · 6 months ago
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"Marry me."
"James you're far too old for me."
"We're the same age. Don't you dare lie to me"
"I'm married, and somehow I love him too. You're asking for far too much James."
"I can wait 6 years, he's gonna have to die then anyways,"
"James I'm not going to fall back in love because you shower me with gifts and information make grand romantic gestures to take me across the galaxy so we can live forever middle aged, I'm gonna save the last few years I have with my husband then spend the rest of my life time begging for forgiveness to my son, do you understand me James? I'm a guilty old man who's grief would kill him if he went with you."
"You're no old man, you're younger then me. 49 is far from old."
"63 isn't far."
"Oh don't call me old."
"I'm not calling you old I'm saying you had a chance to live a life despite flying yourself into space and living in a false grandeur of immortality. You achieved your dream, I left behind the only people that I could ever love and they love me back out of drunken self pity and when I came back I knew no one. I threw away my life and now my own son has more lines on his face given to him as gifts from time when I should be dying next to the love of my life. I have a life I want to live, grow old, and die in. I have no want to live so long we become ancient legends."
"Im giving you the chance to grow old and die with me. I'll be the new love of your life. We can make a life from the one I crave and the one you lost."
"You were my old love of my life, and my heart is too ill to do anything but grieve."
"Then let me give you time to heal, leave behind everyone and everything and rid your heart of all that worry."
"How is that an attractive offer to you, how are you looking me in the eyes and telling me the thing I punished myself for years on end is something I should yearn for and show it to me as a relief?"
"It's lonely being alone forever. Do it for me, Ari, Do it for your friend."
"It'll be lonely even if you take a hundred people."
"I can wait 2 decades for you."
"I hope I'm dead by then."
"I hope we never die."
"I'm sorry for your loss already."
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nonbinary-morro · 2 years ago
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one hour of classpect research, take one of rwby classpecting:
Ruby Rose as a Maid of Hope
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lullabyes22-blog · 2 days ago
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"I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away."
Got a lot of Q's for this in my inbox. Figured I'd just address them here.
tw: mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation
Re: the ending of S2:
Jinx did not die.
She symbolically killed her old self, and with it, her last ties to the past that imprisoned her. She understood that for her sister to move on and live her life - be happy without guilt - she'd have to renounce the bonds that held them together.
Her talk with ghostly Silco was the 'sign-off' she'd been waiting for, ever his dutiful daughter. Throughout S2, she kept hoping he'd haunt her, and in doing so, offer some impetus given her aimlessness. Maybe just straight up boss her around, and tell her how she's supposed to exist now that he's no longer there to be a (subversive if loving) guiding hand.
But it was the promise of time (as represented by Ekko) healing old wounds, and the courage to feel, as she once had - a hopeful child with a hopeful future - that allowed Jinx to commit impetus to action.
Her blimp-ship in the climactic battle is a tribute to Isha - but also to the child in Jinx's own fractured psyche: Powder. She's letting both little girls have one last hurrah before she takes care of business - and cuts off the last oaths, duties and commitments that bind her to a past whose parameters she's outgrown.
Better still, she knows she's got the capacity to outgrow them.
That was the point of Jinx's arc with Isha, and why, no matter my misgivings on Isha's character herself, I found Jinx's trajectory towards a more nurturing and fun-loving figure more life-affirming and positive than the straightforward 'Daddy's Villain Goes Postal' shtick.
It's even why there's a minigame titled Jinx Fixes Everything. It's Jinx, struggling and stumbling, as she tries to rewrite her narrative, and finds in herself the capacity to do good.
To fix things that seem irreparably broken.
And to understand why she's reached this stage, we've got to let go of our tendency to project our own stuff onto Jinx (precious meow meow, unrepentant terrorist, manic pixie crazypants, edgy hot psycho) and acknowledge the purpose she plays in Arcane's thematic structure.
Jinx's character comes off as a death-seeker, and that's no shocker. She is hounded by terrible guilt and loss. She's got blood on her hands, and ghosts on her heels, and no matter what she does, she can't seem to be rid of them. Her inner mind's fractured, her mannerisms ooze pure chaos, and she seems a creature of pure feral impulse and no mercy.
That's the Jinx we're accustomed to seeing in S1 - except that's also both the front she's most likely to put on during that timeline, and the persona that is necessary for her to inhabit to survive, as Silco's daughter and his top enforcer.
Then Silco kicks the bucket, she symbolically fulfills his dream by shooting at the Council HQ, she accepts that she must inhabit this path of shadows and loneliness (as symbolized by her starkly decorated chair in the tea party scene), she accepts the fragmented push-and-pull between past and present, and...
And now what?
Silco's given her a semblance of direction for six years, and he's gone. Vi, the sister she'd hoped would return, and whom she'd hinged so many childishly idealized hopes on, is herself traumatized, and afraid of what her sister's become.
Jinx has her shadows and her loneliness. Jinx is traumatized. Jinx is suicidal.
But Jinx is still, whatever else, alive.
And all living things need connections.
That's why we as the audience enjoy her little found family dynamic with Isha and Sevika. It's Jinx, taking the first tentative steps to reach out to people beyond Silco and Vi, and realizing, wow, she enjoys the pay-off.
And all throughout S2, we see Jinx growing more and more comfortable in this newfound space - even jealously guarding it at the expense of Zaun's liberty, and Silco's wishes, because she can't bear to lose what she's found.
And what she finds empowers her enough that, when Warwick shows up, she's actually willing to reach out to Vi, and call upon their family connection, because Jinx is learning the value of bonds, not as baling hooks of guilt, but as buoys to carry her forward.
That's the story Jinx's relationships serve to tell in S2. Each one shapes the choice she makes in the finale. Until she learns to accept the past (Vi), to lay the monsters to rest (Silco and Vander/Warwick), forgive herself (Caitlyn) trust that time heals all wounds (Ekko), and hope for happier new beginning (Isha), she'll never trust herself enough to just seize the chance.
Jinx's culminating arc is not about death, much less self-erasure. It's about resurrection, and embracing the sublime chaos of a freed mind, and a lightened spirit. That's what she craves beyond simple death, and what her baptism by fire, blood and riverwater, has been about.
Each trial grinds her down into someone else. Someone new.
Someone closer to who she is meant to be, rather than who she's expected to be.
That's why she's so glad to make the sacrifice for Vi. She's not dying as an act of self-immolation. She's giving her sister - the one who's proven she'll never give up on her - the ultimate gift, and showing Vi that she deserves to live.
She needs Vi to live, so Jinx, the persona, can finally die.
"He (Silco) didn't make Jinx. You did."
She's basically saying, "I love you, I will always be with you, but you are no longer responsible for my actions. Please move forward with your life, and grant me the choice to do the same."
It's two sisters embracing everything they've meant to each other, acknowledging the pain weighing them down on both sides, and welcoming the new so they can each slough off old paradigms and live life as a whole person - or at least take steps to remembering what wholeness feels like.
That's the reason the show's final shots linger on the Hexgate tunnels, Jinx's monkey bomb, and the aircraft.
It's the show's way of reminding us that Jinx has ascended to a different version of her identity - one removed from the past that haunted her. It's Jinx, finally striking out alone, away from the sister whose memory she clung so desperately to, and who was, in turn, horrified by her hand in making Powder a monster (perceived guilt or real, fandom may debate ad nauseum) due to past mistakes and abandonment.
The ending of Arcane isn't tragic. It's deeply hopeful, and serves as a reminder that no matter how damaged you think you are, and no matter how monstrous the world finds you, there are still ways to come back to yourself - or to walk the path toward a new you.
Jinx is symbolized by crows. Jinx is shown with firelights emerging from her mouth. Jinx is depicted holding a torch like Janna ushering in the winds of change.
Thematically, Jinx is change.
And the best way she can embody that change is to write her story, and make it her own.
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fanaticsnail · 7 months ago
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Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes (1/2)
Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here
Part 2 Here
Word count: 7,500+
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Synopsis: Doffy is attempting to gain the upper hand against you. He's longed for you, yearned for you - in his own unique way. Considering you never give in to his flirtatious advances, he takes matters into his own hands and attempts to spike your drink. The problem? Your quick wit and nimble fingers switch whisky glasses with him, causing unforeseen problems that he has no cure for…
Warnings: Doflamingo x f!reader, NSFW, 18+, Mdni, smut, pollen fic, Pollen!Doffy x Unaffected!reader, dubcon, size difference (Doffy is 10’, reader is 5’+), degradation - Doffy receiving, yandere Doffy, Doffy is a brat, mentions of drugging, mention of poison, Doflamingo is a conniving bastard, swearing, choking - Doffy receiving, Doflamingo is his own warning, Doffy begs, toxic relationship, Doffy is infatuated, love confession, marriage proposal. ‘Mi amor,’ ‘Mami,’ femme titles used for reader.
Notes: this may not be everyone's cuppa, and it was absolutely something different I decided to try for pollen. Please read the warnings before reading the fic.
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @nerium-lil @writingmysanity
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Sitting at the lengthy dining table, Donquixote Doflamingo extended his glass out towards the gathering of eclectic individuals. Each person present had an array of wealth, titles and reputation; all represented with their names embroidered into their napkins and painted into their drinking glasses.  
Doflamingo had planned everything perfectly. He had plotted each element of the meal to have everyone relax into the welcoming environment: keeping the air light and merry. There was not a fork out of place, nor a knife unaccounted for. He wanted the mood light enough to have you not suspecting a thing to go wrong.
And everything was going exceptionally well, all according to his plan. 
“To a long and healthy relationship between us all,” Doflamingo's smirk grew on his face, him turning to you with a small wink, “And to casting aside differences in the face of humility. Salud.”
“Salud,” you and the crowd repeated in unison, all arms extended with beverages in hand. 
Your glasses all contained gold letters depicting your names and titles on the rim. The servers ensured the liquid was all topped up with your chosen beverage for the night. Your choice? Whisky, neat with no frills nor ice to taint the liquid. Just like your host, Donquixote Doflamingo. 
All according to your plan. 
As soon as you received an invitation to attend this dinner party, you knew Doflamingo was planning something sinister for you. His silly little mind games he used to attempt to get the better of you were always centric to his plans. To embarrass you, to humiliate you, to harm you, to ridicule you: this was always the aim. And you had had just about enough of this torment. 
Getting information out of his menagerie of guards and house staff was simple enough. Offer them enough Berry, and their lips would never stop moving. Hearing Doflamingo’s disappearance in the town square, halting over a small shop stocked with pills and powders, had you mortified at his cruel fate he had in store for the evening. 
You expected poison to meet with your lips the moment you raised your glass to meet them. Your little game would rise to the greatest crescendo yet, you clutching at your rapidly closing throat and pleading for reprieve. Considering Doflamingo was the one to purchase the powdered poison, he would likely only offer you the antidote if you begged for it. 
In lieu of following through with the action of swallowing a heaping gulp of poisoned whiskey, you decided to give the pink-feathered bastard a taste of his own medicine. You reap what you sow, was how you figured it. 
“Fuck around and find out,” you chanted internally. Your soft, knowing smile drew over your features; watching Doflamingo drain the contents from the glass in his hand with gusto. You mirrored his action, downing the liquid in a single gulp. 
Doflamingo shot you a smirk, watching your face for any immediate changes to your body. A flush of your cheeks, a dilation of your pupils, your lips parting and becoming both drier and filling with saliva in unison. He was shocked when you returned his smile: only warmth being offered to him from your place across the dining table before turning to the woman beside you. 
He initially thought drugging you with a form of poison would be a hilarious sight: watching you claw at your neck and beg for the antidote in front of a room of his wealthy guests gave him a sick sense of satisfaction. But to give you an incredibly potent aphrodisiac with no known cure aside from giving into your cravings? Why, the thought alone made his cock twitch in eager anticipation.
He wanted nothing more than to have you shed your fine clothes of their place on your body, tearing them at the seams and beg for him to finally fuck you. He wanted you so desperate for him, you'd care not of the fact the room was full with those in your same league of formal standing. 
As you had always turned down his prior advances of you; he wanted to claim you publically, and leave no room for misinterpretation for his ownership of you. He wanted you to want him, to yearn for him, to plead for his cock with lust oozing from your body in rapid waves. 
He wanted you to want him in the same way he chased his release into his palm every night since your first introduction together. He wanted you the same way he would pay concubines to pretend to be you: copying your mannerisms, immigrating your vocal cadence, wearing similar attire. 
It was never enough for him. He wanted the real thing, and he hoped this final push would have you want him back. 
His craving to have you on your knees and begging for his cock to fill you to the brink with his cum, your neediness flushing your face, the whines and whimpers you'd elicit was too much for his mind to catch up with. He was already feeling aroused by the thought alone, confused at how alite his body felt with just the simple flash of erotic imagery. 
Suddenly the room was hot. Too hot. His clothes were too tight, the lights were too bright; causing him to wince behind his rosy glasses. His cheeks tinted with a soft pink, his body immediately becoming ignited with the hot beads of glistening sweat. 
He attempted to process the feeling, the stiffness of his erection brushing painfully against his striped, leather pants. Eyes widening and teeth clenching, he hissed out a winced breath as the sensitive buds of his nipples grazed against the open jacket firmly clutched against his chest. 
Looking down at the glass in his hands, his lips parted with horror. 
Your name was intricately painted in perfect cursive on the rim, each letter sparkling in the light illuminating the room. He snapped his face over to you, watching as your smile climbed up at the corners of your lips. 
Remaining blissfully unaware of how much torture you narrowly avoided, you asked the waiter for another glass of whiskey for yourself and your companion beside you.  
The glass in your hand had his name “Donquixote Doflamingo” in coiled lettering on the rim. As the waiter filled it, you held your eyes firmly against your conversation partner before you slowly sipped at the contents within. 
The cruel reality of his situation now dawned on him. 
He had unintentionally spiked himself with the incurable aphrodisiac, in public, instead of you. And now his body was desperate to see his lust satisfied by any means necessary. 
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“And what did he say, Maria?” you asked the woman beside you, your attention fully fixed on her eyes as she relayed her tale. 
“He said: ‘a goddess as radiant as you should have men falling to their knees in adoration’,” Maria mocked in a lower, masculine tone. You bit back your smirk, eyeing her dangerously. 
“And what did you do in response to that?” you urged her with an excitement in your knowing tone. 
“I let him worship,” she smirked at you. Both of you became overcome with a fit of giggles, laughing at the sheer audacity of her promiscuous nature. You tapped her forearm with your hand playfully, enjoying a soft shove in return from her shoulder. 
Of the guests amongst you: Maria and you had known each other the longest. Both of you felt out of place here, being two of the few women present. You were roughly of similar ages, both unmarried and unspoken for. She had a soft-spot for the marines, her latest conquest being the right-hand man of Vice-Admiral Garp. 
“You are incorrigible,” you tease her, with a soft, “Atta girl,” added, nudging her with your shoulder before elevating your drinking glass up to take a sip. 
“Speaking of,” she returned your gentle nudge with one of her own, “Doflamingo’s glass? How'd you manage that?” She gestured to the cup in your hand. 
“Bribed the server,” you smirked, clinking the rim of the cup with the one in her own hand, “Had a feeling a game was afoot. And you know what they say,” you leant against her shoulder, both fixing your eyes on the blonde man at the head of the table. 
“Play stupid games,” you both uttered in unison, “Win stupid prizes," concluding with a sinister chuckle,
Your host for the night was hunched over the table, his teeth clenched firmly shut and soft beads of sweat were rapidly now gathering at his temple. This only solidified your suspicions, noticing the silence he was presenting in lieu of his usual conversation. 
Raising your brow, you remained focussed on him as the grip his hands perched against the table made his knuckles flash white. Curiosity plagued you, unsure as to why he was not asking his staff for the antidote to cure him. He was obviously under the effects of some kind of poison, his heavy breathing and indicator of such a plight. 
Why would he not ask for help? 
His eyes meet with yours, his frown deep and teeth grimacing. Quietly raising your eyebrows at him, you gently extend his glass in the air to add further sting to the ridicule. His eyes drew up to glare beneath his pink glasses. His pupils were focussed on your body, noticing every exposed area of flesh remaining unshrouded on the neckline of your button-up shirt. His eyes attempted to undress you, his gaze scorching you beneath his rose-tinted glasses. 
Noticing his gaze, you hum in deep thought. Shrugging your shoulders back, you turn to Maria beside you and give her a short nudge. Upon finishing her final bite of dessert, she turned towards you. 
“I’m going to go and gloat for a minute at my quick swipe,” you smirk at the woman to your side, “I'll be back once I'm satisfied he's ‘faced his humility’.” 
“Be safe!” she giggled, ushering you on with two quickened waves of her hands. 
“I'll be so safe,” you mocked her in return. Rising to your feet, you tucked your chair beneath the table and watched as several others did the same. All mingling amongst one another, you made yourself comfortable in a now vacant seat beside Doflamingo. 
“Doflamingo,” you nodded your acknowledgement, crossing your knees beneath the table and nudging his calf with your foot, “You've been awfully quiet tonight.” Trailing your toes over his calf, you noticed the hitch of his breath as he balled his knuckles into clenched fists. 
“Something amiss?” You asked him, placing down your drinking glass for the night while circling the rim with your index finger, “Something not quite going according to plan, perhaps?” Your smile grew as you noticed his shoulders tense, his breath hitch and his legs began to shake beneath your foot.
Gently trailing your toes higher, you eyed his reaction cautiously. His body was as hard as polished marble, his hair now slightly damp with a small amount of sweat gathering on his forehead. 
“Oh, Doffy,” you hissed a small whisper, your foot now tracing the outer edge of his thigh, “What the fuck were you attempting to poison me with this time?” You clicked your tongue at him, pouting through pursed lips, “Doesn't look like it's quite agreeing with you.”
“Out,” he whispered in a gruff bark. 
The quiet growl cut through the air like a steel knife carving through tough flesh. All guests immediately drew their eyes over to the pink-feathered host with a snap of their chins towards him. 
“I said out,” he snarled, his eyes frantically darting between each member attending the dinner party, “Everyone out. Out now.” 
You flinched at his change of tone, jumping back in your seat but refusing to hede to his dictation. Doflamingo felt his blood ignite with a passionate lust he had never experienced. He needed the cure, and he needed it now. 
Each guest rose to their feet, murmuring amongst themselves as they hastily fled the space with caution. Against your better judgment to follow suit, you remained behind and rose the glass marked ‘Donquixote Doflamingo’ to your lips and finished the remaining liquid within. 
Whiskey burned its way down your throat, the honey-sweet notes lingering on your palate as you placed the glass down once more. You rose to your feet and grasped for the water jug in front of Doflamingo and poured your emptied glasses with the icy water. 
“You don't look so good, sweetheart,” you cooed in a mocking gloat, placing the water glass with your name in front of him, “Have a drink, you'll feel better.” Doffy remained unmoving, clenching his eyes tightly shut as his body fought against itself. 
He tried to convince himself he'll manage this. He'll get through it without asking for your aid. He'll be able to withstand the potency of the aphrodisiac without becoming a whimpering mess in front of you.  
But then you spoke. 
And you kept speaking. 
Your sweet voice cut into his resolve with expert precision. Haunting him, cursing him with the ridicule that you should've been experiencing. He attempted to control his urges by gulping back a dry mouthful of saliva and concentrating on slowing his breathing. 
“Oh, come now,” you scolded the tall, blonde, “Nothing to say for yourself, huh?” You leaned your hips back on the table and eyed him cautiously, “Not even going to order the staff to get the oral antidote for whatever you've-.”
“-There is no oral antidote,” he spat through gritted teeth. He tried to ignore the twitch of his cock at the mention of ‘come’ and ‘oral’ from your lips. The swelling blood pooling in his cock had the shiny tip brushing against his leather pants. He mewled at the small twitch of his oversensitive knob, attempting to disguise his whimper with a soft cough. 
The air grew thick and tense; silence swelling in an uncomfortable dance of fluttering heartbeats. After taking a moment to hone in on your thoughts, you slowly inhaled and exhaled alongside externally verbally processing. 
“You were going to have me drink a poison tonight that had no cure?” you uttered darkly, “And watch me convulse as I took my last breaths?” Down turning your snarl and drawing up your heckles, you placed your foot on Doflamingo's bare chest and kicked hard. You glared into his shrouded eyes. 
“You were going to publicly execute me in front of your guests?” you continued, “My friends, my colleagues, my potential clients? Doflamingo,” you continued, leaning down and pressing your chest into your knee, “You deserve your cruel fate. Suffer, asshole.”
A shaky, large hand slowly drew itself up and softly cupped your ankle. He cautiously lifted your foot off his chest and pressed his lips against the ball of your foot. As soon as that kiss ended, another was placed slightly higher up into your inner calf. 
He removed your shoe, casting it to the side of him as he groped at you with his large hands. Hastily drawing his hands down to collect your other foot, he rid the presence of your shoe from you before placing your toes down on his thigh. 
Shock wrote itself on your face as a flurry of several more kisses were pressed into you. Each kiss was accompanied by a strangled whimper falling from Doflamingo's lips: breath hitched, brows furrowed and throat humming out the calls of desperation. 
“It h-has a cure, mi amor,” he softly whined into your leg, “Just not a manufactured one.” His lips could barely part with your skin, each soft kiss growing hungrier the further up your legs he drew. Humming through several more of his kisses, you were too terrified to truly correlate his affectionate advances to any known experience prior. 
Donquixote Doflamingo had always been intrigued by you. Always finding some way to bully, vex and torture you. This was something you never anticipated. His desperation in need for you was now depicted as his tongue raked up your thighs: his moist organ dampening your pants with a long and lustful streak of saliva. 
“Absolutely not,” you spat, forcing Doflamingo back into his seat by pressing your foot against his chest once again. “What the fuck, Doflamingo?” He mewled as your heel grazed his right nipple, his body crying out in relief and arousing itself further. 
From this angle, you hastily drew your eyes down to the large polearm hoisting up his pants in a perfect peaked tent. His large cock left very little to the imagination beneath the shroud of his leathery pants. 
He whispered your name, the last syllable calling out in a soft sob. His breaths were both deep and shallow, his body hot and cold, his mind clear and cloudy - he had no idea how to process these emotions. All he knew is he needed you. He wanted you. He craved you. 
Disgust was now openly displayed on your features at his desperation, watching the mighty King of Dressrosa sob and cry for you like a child that had a favorite toy hovering just out of reach. His hands began opening and closing, the strings of his devil-fruit power beginning to hover in his fingertips; only to fizzle away as soon as they formed. 
“What were you attempting to spike me with tonight?” you hissed at the blonde king, adding an emphatic kick to his chest to regain his attention. 
“An aphrodisiac,” he admitted, choking on his confession as he attempted to withhold it, “One so potent, the only cure for it is s-sex.” He moaned with his hissed admission, throwing his head back and whimpering. 
You sucked in a horrified gasp, recoiling as you understood exactly what he was admitting to you. You took a moment to collect your thoughts and mull over your next actions. Hardening your resolve, you shook it off and removed your foot from his chest, before straightening up your clothes. 
“Fuck you, Doflamingo,” you spat, beginning to walk away from him and collect your discarded shoes. He spun in his chair, almost knocking the seat over with the haste he followed you with. 
“Where are you going?” he whispered your name, falling onto his knees and needily following you with desperate longing. You growled, pairing your shoes and beginning to attempt to exit the dining room. 
“Getting you your concubines,” you spat over your shoulder, “Only cure for this is sex, and there is no way you're getting that from me,” Your hand hovered the doorknob, halting as a large hand drew down onto your knuckles and held your hand firmly away from it. 
“Don’t,” he huffed a gruff growl, his body leaning unconsciously towards you. 
“You want the cure? I'm getting it for you,” you whispered, rage bubbling within your chest, “It's likely better than the fate you had in store for me.”
Silence was once again uncomfortable between you, your confirmation solidified in the quiet of his response. 
“You would've had me beg for it, wouldn't you?” you uttered darkly, “Have me grovel and plead for release in front of the entire dinner party.” His hand tightened over yours, bordering on painful. 
“Yes,” he admitted in an icy tone. He sucked in his bottom lip, clenching his teeth over them and moaned while inhaling your scented perfume. 
“And who was going to be the likely cure for this tonight?” you shot over your shoulder, noticing his face was hovering closely against your shoulder, “You?”
“Yes,” he whined, hovering his body behind yours and caging it against the door. 
“You bastard,” you spat, turning around to face him and breaking your hand away from his, “You don't deserve a cure for this-.”
“-I know,” he sobbed, dropping to his knees in front of you, “I know, I know. I just-...” 
“Just what, Doffy?” you growled at him, “What now? After all this, what-?”
“-I just wanted you to want me how desperately I want you,” he confessed in a single breath, his words fleeing from him with unbridled gusto, “I wanted you to want me so badly, your body couldn't stand another moment without me. And now that I've taken the fucking drug instead of you,” he lunged towards you, clutching at your thighs, “I can barely keep up with how much I want you.”
“Doffy, what are you-?” you began, your breath hitching in a shriek as he ripped off your pants in a quick swipe. “Doflamingo!” you yelped as he buried his nose against your clothed cunt. 
“Let me taste you,” he whined, nuzzling against your panties with his nose and greedily lapping at the cotton with his lengthy tongue, “Please, let me have you cry for me. I n-need you.”
“Doffy,” you uttered sharply, nudging his shoulders away from you - which did nothing to halt his enthusiastic advance. He instead circled his arms around your thighs and hooked them over his shoulders. 
Shrieking, your back was now placed against the door: Doflamingo's head buried deep between your thighs as he clasped his hands around your ass to hold you in place. Greedily bobbing his head, he began lapping at your cunt with his slippery tongue, paying no mind at all to the fact what he wanted most was shrouded by the fabric of your panties.
With each cruel swipe, a single word was chanted in a penance-like prayer. The word was music to your ears, your resolve crumbling with each whimpered petition. The song of his desperate pleading beckoned you to let go and give into him. 
“Please.” He hooked his lengthy tongue beneath the fabric, clenching his teeth on the elastic and noseying it aside with his chin. “Please.” Flattening his tongue, he gasped as he tasted your sweet nectar and swirled his organ over your clit. “Please.” 
The ache in his pants was so strong, he could barely take another moment not being buried to the hilt within you. He continued to make an effort to withhold his cravings, to ensure you were ready to take him, as he was twice your size in every way. 
Being the giver was not his strength. Doflamingo would take, take, take until there was nothing left to take from his bedmates. He wanted to chase his release, no matter the consequences his large cock would indent while sheathed within a partner. He simply didn’t care about them, but he did care about you. He wanted you to want him so badly, desperate to earn your approval and love. He needed you to know how far he was willing to go to ensure this was as good for you as it was going to be for him. 
You barely had a moment to adjust to what was happening to you. Replaying the events of the evening perplexed you with even more confusion. 
Doflamingo invited you to dinner with the intention of poisoning you. A poison that was an incurable aphrodisiac that made you desperate for sex with any willing partner. The reason he wanted to poison you with this was because he liked you, and wanted to pursue you romantically. And instead of asking to formally court you, he decided spiking your drink in public was the answer. 
You had every right to push him away, to tell him “no,” and to halt his advances. But at each skillful swipe of his tongue, you felt more of yourself melting away beneath his humility. His apology dictated to you with each intentional swirl of his lengthy tongue.
“Doffy,” you mewled to him, feeling his tongue dip into your slick entrance. His nose circled your clit, his skillful organ greedily flicking in and out of your cunt while hooking up within you to climb deeper into your body. Your walls clenched around his tongue, his chin spiriting you towards bliss as he ground your pussy against his face. 
“Please,” he muffled into your core, desperately lapping up your arousal like a dog parched for water, “Please, please.” You felt your stomach tighten, his aggressive chase of your high with his lips wrapping around your sensitive bud ushering you to your unravel. 
“Doffy, wh-what are you-oh!” your breathy gasp had his hands pawing at your ass, grinding your core against his face harder to urge you closer to your high. Your hands pawed at the wall behind you to brace yourself against it. You found the pit of your stomach wind tighter and shoot sparks down your legs. He moaned into you, expressing his gratitude at your body beginning to give into him and release your inhibitions onto his face. 
“Please cum,” he begged, slurping messily and lapping up your juices, “Cum on my tongue. I n-need it.”
Your hands shot down to his hair, clutching at the strands in heaped fistfuls. As the coil inside you snapped, your lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as he channeled his desperation into meeting your needy thrusts and grinds against his head. “Let go, let go,” he begged you, his face becoming coated by your gushing slick. 
“D-Doffy! Oh, f-fuck. Oh fuck, I'm cumming. You fucking prick, Doffy!” You mewled his name, crying for him with your eyes clenched tightly shut. 
His hair began to burn within your fists, but he truly didn’t care. His tongue lapped up your gushing cunt over emphatically while grinding you skillfully against his nose, lips, tongue and chin. Riding your high, Doflamingo continued to hold you against his face as your soul fell back inside your body. 
“So good,” the older Donquixote brother complimented you, looking up at you through his glasses, “Now let me fuck you.” He withdrew your hips from his head, attempting to wrap your legs around his waist and shepherd you over the waistband of his pants. 
He pawed at the front button, his cock immediately springing forth and glistening in the light. Eyes spread wide with worry, you shook your head after feeling yourself recover from your high. Your underwear once again shrouded your glistening core, protecting you from a small twitch of interest from Doflamingo’s aching and incredibly large cock. 
“No, Doffy,” you firmly commanded, wriggling yourself away from his hold over you. As you side stepped, his hands extended in longing with outstretched, splayed fingers. He whimpered, his body leaning down and shaking with desire. 
“B-But I-...” he didn't get a chance to speak, as you growled over his pleas. 
“-You pinned me to the wall, and forced me cum on your face after you attempted to poison me,” you barked at him, “And now you expect me to help you by what? What, Doffy?” you snarled intp his face, baring your teeth at him, “You want me to sit on your cock and ride you until you cum? Tsk, pathetic.”
A sound you were not expecting to exhale through Doflamingo's lips at this moment. He sobbed, his lips quivering as his hands shuddered. His lengthy digits hovered over his cock, desperately wanting to chase his high into his fist: only withholding it because he knew it would make his situation all the more severe. He knew he couldn’t cum without external, other bodily stimuli. He needed you to help him, and he bit back a soft sob as his eyes grew glossy behind his pink glasses. 
“I need you,” he whimpered, “I need you so badly. I needed you when you were first introduced to me, and I have needed you ever since.”
“I simply do not care, Doflamingo,” you spat in return, his soft sob doing nothing to break you away from your resolve, “The only thing I’ll do for you is get you a concubine to sleeve your cock in, but otherwise I am done.”
“I don’t want them, I want you,” he whimpered, shaky hands balling into his covered thighs. His cock twitched in the air, the veiny underside throbbing with pulsating longing. You fold your arms over your chest, looking down on the taller man with absolute disgust. He held your gaze with his shrouded eyes, disguising his longing behind their tinted hue. 
“You repulse me,” you snarled, walking over to his kneeling position on the floor.
“I adore you,” he mewled through his confession, gasping as you grasped his girthy shaft. 
“You don’t deserve this,” you began pumping his shaft, flicking your thumb over his glistening knob. 
“You deserve the world,” he confessed, a small release of tears began expelling from his eyes. You halted your fisting of his cock, focussing your unrelenting grasp over his tip and squeezing it. 
“I despise you,” you spat, using your unoccupied hand to pry his glasses away from his face; throwing them on the table beside you. As soon as your attention returned to his now unconcealed eyes, your breath was stolen from your lungs. 
“I desire you,” he whispered, blinking slowly with his lengthy blonde eyelashes. You understood now why he concealed them behind his sinister glasses. His irises were a pastel pink, eyes expressive now they were unshrouded by the coloured glass. There was no lie presented within his eyes, honesty being the only inhabitant lying within. He was a very pretty man, especially with his whole face now presented to the light. 
“You make me sick,” you lied through gritted teeth as you rolled your neck, stepping out of your panties and straddling his lap, “You are foul,” you anchored your knees against his hips, placing your heels firmly on the floor beside him, “Obnoxious and detestable.”
“Mami, stop teasing me with your horrible words,” he moaned, “I’ll cum.”
“You’ll cum when I allow you to cum,” you retorted firmly. The bob of his adams apple did not escape your notice, nor did the soft roll of his glassy pastel eyes. You clicked your tongue, lining up your slit with the tip of his cock. 
“Don’t you fucking move, Doflamingo,” you barked your orders at him, “You’re a great deal larger than I am, and I am no mere whore you paid to fuck yourself stupid in.” He sucked in a soft whimper as he felt your prior release coat his knob, “I don’t particularly enjoy taking partners twice my size, and I don’t want to get hurt because you decided you wanted to buck up suddenly.”
“I-I won’t, mi amor,” he stuttered, crying out a little with his lips parted, “I’ll be a good boy, I swear. So good for you.” 
“Pathetic prick,” you mewled at him, eyes wincing as your body adjusted to taking his tip inside you, “It hurts,” you cried out a little as your body began to sink onto him. Your slow descent atop his cock, impaling yourself on his thick shaft, had your breath hitch and a soft whimper leave you, “And you were going to rail me with it, weren’t you?”
He stooped low, covering his eyes by burying his head against your clavicle. He huffed out his restraint, his voice shuddering as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. Wrapping his arms around your back, his fingertips ghosted around your body to trace gentle encouraging circles against your skin. 
“Answer me, asshole,” you sobbed, slowly sinking down as you felt the blunt, mushroomed tip begin to kiss your cervix, “You owe me that much.” Anchoring your hands against his shoulders, you braced yourself as you continued to inch your way down his lance of a cock. The girth was almost the width of your forearm, your glistening walls struggling to stretch to accommodate him. 
His shoulders shook, his lips finding your collar bone and pressing gentle kisses against it. He winced as he disciplined his body to wait for you to adjust to him, sniffing back a small cry.
“Th-The pollen makes you-... nnnmpph-... Makes your arousal heighten,” he winced at his resolve, bracing you within his arms and snaking his large hand up your back, “You would’ve b-been too far gone to care.” 
“Is that what you are, Doflamingo?” you snarled at him, sinking yourself past your limit to suck more of his full length inside your body, “Too far gone to care?”
“I want you, mi amor,” he murmured into your shoulder, nose rubbing against your neck and brushing your blouse away from covering your chest, “Although, I a-am reaching my l-limit for tolerance. I need to fuck you. I need t-to cum inside you.”
“Don’t you fucking dare move,” you whimpered at him, “You’re too f-fucking b-big.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, tearing his face away from you to look into your eyes, “I am so sorry.” His expressive eyes pleaded for you to understand how hard he was trying to hold himself back. His pink irises were eclipsed by his blown pupils, his lips open and panting, his temple bleeding with drops of heavy sweat. He couldn’t help a soft rock of his hips, testing how your body adjusted to him. 
“Stop!” you barked at him, “Stop that right now or I’ll leave.” Doffy whined, prying open your shirt with one quick rip, tearing the buttons from the seams and revealing your bare chest to him. The buttons flew over the room, your nipples perking up now revealed to the cool of the air. Your sleeves fell down your shoulders and each inch of revealed skin was immediately replaced by Doflamingo’s lips. 
“I’m r-reaching the e-end of my resolve, mi amor,” he confessed, “I-I’m c-close, and I need you to bounce a little on me. Please ride me as you are now, you d-don’t need to take any more of my length. Please just bounce on what you can take. I’ll be so good.”
“Close just from me taking your partial length? You’re so fucking pathetic,” you degraded him, your voice solid and unwavering. You felt the twitch of his cock, his body revealing more to you than he would ever audibly inform you, “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Doffy whimpered.
“S-Stop degrading me,” he attempted to growl, his voice breaking and turning more into a breathy pant, “Stop it or I’ll cum, mi amor. I’ll cum so fucking hard for you.” His whispered confession had you elevate a sinister smirk up your lips.
“Stop calling me ‘mi amor’,” you wrapped your right hand around his throat, your left perched on his shoulder as you sunk yourself down on him, “I’m not your love. You're a conniving and devious bastard, and I despise you.”
“Just like that, Mami,” he whimpered, hands falling to your hips as you began to bounce on his cock, “I know you hate me. I adore that about you. I wanted you for so long, and you’re so, so good.”
“At least your ears work, you arrogant prick,” you released your firm hold on his throat, glaring into his eyes as you continued to take more of him into you. You became more confident in riding his swollen cock, bouncing, writhing and grinding your slick cunt against his pelvis, “Maybe there is hope for you after all-.”
“-No, no,” he begged, pressing his throat against your palm, “No: I’m nauseating, I’m disgusting, I’m pathetic. Please, please choke me. Tell me how much you hate me. Ride my cock while you tell me you find me repulsive.” 
“Oh fuck, Doffy,” you bit back your moan, feeling the rapid approach of your second orgasm stampeed within your abdomen. You choked him harder, forcing his eyes to meet yours as you circled your hips on his cock. His eyes held firm to yours, feeling the tangible dislike against him from you. He fought back the urge to roll his eyes back in bliss, his balls sucked deep within his stomach the longer you rode him. 
“I abhor you,” you whined, feeling him hold back meeting your bobbed movements. You finally began encouraging him to thrust up into you, your motions now rhythmic and in perfect synchrony. 
“I adore you,” he whispered in return, placing his lips against your jaw and tenderly kissing you. 
“I f-fucking loathe you,” you felt the familiar sparks indicating the eruption of an impending orgasm. Your pussy began contracting around him, your walls beckoning him with rhythmic throbbing. 
Whimpering, your world came crashing like waves breaking down cinder blocks. You threw your head back, keening more so at the fact Doflamingo made you cum for a second time tonight. The first one was against your will, this one you ensured you were in control of. 
“I fucking l-love you,” he held his eyes against yours, his orbs glassy as they filled with tears, “I love you so fucking much,” he mewled in bliss as spurts of his hot cum splashed deep within you, “I-I-... I’m cumming, oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m c-cumming. You’re s-so good. I love you s-so fucking much. I love you.” 
He cried, hot tears of relief spilling down his cheeks as he sobbed through his accentuated release. His lip quivered, his highly emotive eyes looking almost innocent the longer he rocked his hips up into yours. You squeezed his throat, choking him as your pussy milked him of his large load. 
The spill of his seed dripped down your legs and onto his patterned leather pants. The blunt tip of his velvety cock continued to kiss your cervix, propelling you into a longer release. Your walls could barely contract around his cock due to the stretch, but each time Doffy’s cock released a squirt of his cum, it twitched back enough for your cunt to wring his shaft. 
The twin highs seemed to last an eternity. Spurts of his load continued mixing with your slick and Doflamingo’s prior saliva. You were not sure when exactly it happened, but you found yourself within an almost loving embrace within Doflamingo’s arms. His cock was sleeved completely within you to the hilt, your arms circling his shoulders as you both hid your faces in each other’s necks. His hands gripped your waist, his blonde eyelashes ticking your shoulder as he buried himself deeper within you. 
Sunk to the hilt, you remained that way until your thighs began to burn from holding your body up over his thighs. Your pussy began to ache, coming down from your high with his full length still buried within you. Unhooking your arms from his shoulders, you attempted to remove yourself from his embrace to no avail. He held you firmly, not enough to bruise, but not allowing any room for you to wriggle away from him. 
“Doflamingo, release me,” you barked at him, shoving his shoulders away in an attempt to reveal his eyes to you. 
He held you tighter. 
“Doflamingo, let me go,” you spat, trying again to flee from his steely grip. He gripped his elbows behind your back, holding you firmer. 
Your panic grew more frantic, your heart beating faster than it did when you rode through your bliss. 
“Doflamingo, you will break away from me this instant,” you pushed and shoved him with all your might, only managing to have your abdomen ache at being so full for so long. 
He refused. 
“Doflamingo, if you don’t free me from your grip right now; I’ll-,” Doflamingo murmured against your chest, halting your wriggling and frantic movements. 
“-But if I let you go, you’ll flee,” his voice whimpered, his chin anchoring against your chest and staring his blush-coloured orbs up at you. You felt yourself become breathless beneath the spell of his loving look, feeling all emotion pouring from his eyes onto you. 
“Yeah, that’s the point,” you attempted to break from his embrace, only causing Doflamingo to grip you tighter. 
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” he massaged down your back, pressing on your hips firmly enough to lock you against him, “I meant every word I said. I love-.”
“-And I meant every word I said, Donquixote,” you winced against him, attempting to pry his hands off you by gripping his wrists. He was far stronger than you were, causing panic to rise within your chest, “I hate you.”
“Marry me.” 
Those words shocked you, causing you to snap your eyes up to meet his. Again, those ruby orbs held you captive. You couldn’t believe how expressive they were. 
His soul was raw behind those twin lanterns, illuminating his face with the innocence you were certain had long-since left him. Still, you remained firm - the softening of Doflamingo’s cock within you brought you crashing back to reality. 
“Never.” 
“Consider it,” he sighed, releasing your left thigh and cupping your cheek with his left hand, “Consider it, and you will want for nothing. That’s all I ask,” he rose from his stoop and pressed his forehead against yours, “That’s all I want. All I’ve only ever wanted.” 
Using this opportunity: you hastily rose to your feet, the crude squelch of Doflamingo’s flaccid cock exiting your slit prompting you to cringe more than the embarrassment you felt at his profession of love. You felt the mix of fluids seep out of your core, dripping down your legs and onto the floor. He called your name, wincing now he felt empty and unfulfilled without you wrapped around him. 
“No,” you retorted, bending down to recover your panties and pants. You wrapped your top around your chest to shield your body away from his eyes. 
“You would be my queen,” he tried again, leaning forward on his knees and looking up at you, “Queen of Dressrosa. Queen of my heart. I would have you rule beside me as an equal, mi amor-.”
“-I said ‘no’, Donquixote.” Your buttons from your shirt lay scattered on the floor, your eyes darting around while arguing whether they're worth collecting. 
“Please,” he whispered his soft beg, his palms finding the floor as he began to crawl towards you, “Please, I need you. I want you. I crave you. I would bleed for you, die for you, kill for you - just say you'll be mine.”
“Look,” you turned on your heel, glaring at him with enough animosity to halt his low stalking prowl, “The next time you attempt to drug me over dinner and accidentally drug yourself in my place,” you snarled, prompting Doffy’s eyes to fall half-lidded in adoration, “Do not call on me for aid, you won't find any empathy from me.”
You hurriedly thrust your panties and pants back over your sticky legs, tucking your shirt into them as Doflamingo sat back on his knees, kneeling in stunned silence. Without a further word, you made your way towards the large exit, only stopping your withdrawal when Doflamingo tried one final time to woo you. 
“You didn't even let me kiss you,” he whispered in a voice so soft, you halted in place to hear him. You turned your chin, glancing at him over your shoulder as he sat in somber silence. 
“If you think you're getting a kiss from me after all that-...” you began, fully turning to face him as his head lay hanging low to avoid your eyes. You sighed, finally in pity for a man who resorted to great lengths to gain your attention, “...you get one to show me your gratuity.”
Doflamingo perked up, his ruby eyes meeting with yours with the hope of a child being promised their greatest coveted prize. 
In a few hasty strides, you made your way back over to Doflamingo. He continued to kneel beneath you, cock still hanging limply over the waistband of his pants. You grimaced at the flaccid cock, noticing that its limp length was still well above the average size of the cocks you'd seen prior. 
You shook your head, taking Doflamingo's cheek in your palm and elevating his face to meet yours. Lips closing in a soft purse, you collected his plump lips beneath yours in a soft and tender kiss. Parting your lips, you gently grazed his mouth with a soft swirl of your tongue. He moaned against your lips, large hands perching on your hips and holding you firmly against him. 
Tilting your head, you bumped Doflamingo's chin with your own to deepen it. He sighed into your mouth, allowing you to initiate how much emotion you were willing to press into him. His lips felt warm, encumbering and loving, something you were not expecting to experience from any encounter with the King of Dressrosa. 
Even though he had confessed his love for you, the softness he was presenting you with was foreign in comparison to his harsh dictatorship. You swirled your hands behind his head, massaging his scalp in soothing circles. A happy chirp fled from his lips to yours, his smile evident as his tongue collided with yours. 
Breaking away from his embrace, your hands raked through his blonde hair affectionately. He hummed up at you, his blonde eyelashes fluttering beneath his half-hooded eyes. 
“I'll cherish the gift of your lips always, mi amor,” he sighed up, the sparkle in his ruby gaze. That title snapped you away from your daze, shaking your head and once again grimacing. 
“Never call me ‘mi amor’ again, asshole,” you spat hastily, refusing to allow him a semblance of your heart, “I'm not your love, I'll never be your love. You're fucking pathetic, and I hate you.”
“Stop being mean to me,” he licked his lips, his gaze growing dark, “I’m already starting to get hard.”
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sailoryooons · 8 months ago
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Boyfriend Material | jjk (m)
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☾ Pairing: Hockey Player!Jungkook x f. Reader 
☾ Summary: Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material – except when he is.  
☾ Word Count: 2,127
☾ Genre: FWB, Hint of Angst, Smut
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
☾ Warnings: Friends with benefits who are very obviously pretending not to have feelings, being in a confusing relationship that is basically a relationship without titles, feelings of confusion and self-doubt, lying to oneself, mentions of some toxic interactions with other people/women, repressed feelings, explicit sexual content including oral (f. receiving) in the shower, honestly, in general, some very cliche/stereotypical conflict you’d find in a relationship with someone of status 
☾ Published: March 23, 2024
☾ A/N: This is a self-insert of one of the most confusing relationships I have ever had in my life and I will die on the hill that no one should date athletes because 98% of them are the rule, not the exception no matter how much they seem like it! TRAUMA!!! Also, should I have been dating a professional athlete for the sport I worked in? No!!!! This is for all the people who have been in a not-relationship-that-is-a-relationship why the fuck do people do that like it is okay to have feelings and call ur partner ur partner?? 
☾ A/N 2: This is drabble number six for the Drabble Challenge that I have been utterly failing at! Today I rolled for ‘athlete’ but I didn’t feel like writing actual sports so I was like :) I worked in sports for ten years, I can just share a glimpse of my life when I was 23 years old :) Enjoy 
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration
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“Fuck, I’m so tired,” Jungkook groans, leaning back in the chair and stretching his arms. Sun beats down on his golden skin. You feel the heat of it on your back and the top of your head. It’s pleasant, the cool spring breeze threatening to send the napkins on the table running. “Wanna lay out at the pool?”
Finishing the rest of your coffee, you nudge the empty plate away from you. Where once an eggs benedict had stood is now smears of leftover yolk and a single onion you missed when eating your hashbrowns. 
“Not sick of me?” you ask, raising a brow. 
Jungkook isn’t looking at you, scrolling on his phone. The bill of his hat is pulled low, hiding most of his face as he squints down at the device held low in his lap. You wait patiently for his answer, running your finger up and down the now-empty glass as it sweats from the sun. 
“Nope,” he answers, popping the end of the word sharply. “Did you ever get your desk fixed? Yoongi said he would fix it if not.”
“I have not.” 
He nods. “He said he’ll swing by this afternoon. We can lay out at the pool at my place and then head to yours after?” 
Your mouth twitches. You don’t say it out loud because you don’t want to risk him backing out, but another full day spent with Jungkook is a surprise to you. Not because it doesn’t happen often – it does. But rather because it keeps happening more often.
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. He’d established that the first night he met you at a bar. Him being a professional athlete was a warning sign enough that you didn’t want to romance that but what had come afterward has been nothing short of surprising. 
Friendship and… well. You don’t know how to explain the extras. 
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. But you do your groceries together on the weekend. You drop him off at the arena when they’re heading out for a road trip. You take him to doctor's appointments to monitor the knee injury from last season. 
You’re not Jungkook’s girlfriend but he takes you to team events. He lets himself in and does your laundry at your apartment while you’re at work so you don’t have to do it when you come home. He has his teammates fix furniture for you and they’ve asked you to babysit their kids. 
“Babe?” the endearment makes you blink a few times, realizing you’d been staring into your lap. Jungkook’s dark eyes are focused on you now, phone shoved into his pocket. “We don’t have to go to the pool. We can just nap.”
We. Not you. Jungkook is going to hang out with you regardless if you like his original idea or not. Your stomach flips in that way you hate, the way that you know you’re doing everything you said you wouldn’t.
“Sounds good.” 
Jungkook flashes a grin and you become acutely aware that thinking you could be friends with benefits without being anything more was a stupid idea. Jungkook is not made to be resisted, with round eyes that darken when he’s turned on, a giggle that contrasts with the big, broad-shouldered athlete built, a smile that lights up the room and can dispel any tension, a sweet voice that can tempt anyone the moment he pouts or when he decides to pur. 
You were fucked - literally and figuratively - that first night you let him in your apartment. 
Instead of thinking about it, you hide from the truth. Again. Jungkook is not boyfriend material, despite the fact that he pays for breakfast despite your protests, and reaches over the center console in the car to squeeze your thigh. 
“Mmm,” he hums, fingers skating over your flash and making you squirm in the passenger seat. “Warm.”
“I was sitting in the sun.”
“I like it.”
Jungkook likes a lot about you. He tells you all the time, very open about how he likes the way you taste, likes the way you organize your books by color, likes the way you sing in the shower, likes the way you speak in Star Wars quotes. 
Perhaps that’s what makes you the most wary about him. He says he’s not boyfriend material, but his actions betray his words. And you let them, every single time. 
Jungkook smells like sunscreen, sweat, and a little bit of his cologne from earlier that morning. You’re hyperaware of him as you lounge on the cabana bed together, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his firm body. 
His tattooed arm is tossed over his eyes, blocking out the sun as he snores a little. Careful not to knock into him, you lean over him and grab his phone to check the time. You haven’t been lounging in the sun long, but you don’t want him to get a sunburn.
Again. 
You wager you can stay a little longer, placing the phone back down under his discarded shirt where it can hide from the sun’s heat. Sitting back in your spot, you pick up your book from your sweaty thighs as the sound of the gate to the pool yard opening catches your attention. 
Some of Jungkook’s teammates live in the same apartment complex. It’s easier that way, especially for the players who get sent up and down from the minors. You catch a few of the younger players with a few girls you don’t know the name of tugging a cooler on wheels behind them with a speaker blaring. 
Jungkook doesn’t so much as move. He can sleep through anything – has slept through you falling into his gaming setup while trying to get to the bathroom drunk. His slumbering leaves you to watch them head to the beds a few over from yours. 
One of the girls notices you. You don’t recognize her specifically, but she recognizes Jungkook. Looks back at you. Frowns and mutters something to one of the other girls, who is not very subtle as she cranks her head around in your direction. 
You don’t wince anymore. It’s not an uncommon thing, among these circles. You refuse to engage with any of it. You used to tell yourself it was because a casual whatever-Jungkook-is simply isn’t worth the drama. At night, you know you don’t engage with it because you don’t want to know. 
Ignorance is bliss, especially in this dangerously plastic world Jungkook exists in. 
Thankfully, you’re not alone in the matter. Jimin appears out of thin air, dropping down on the empty bed next to you. Namjoon – arguably Jimin’s better half and team captain – is nowhere to be found. Jimin lowers his shades and looks beyond you to the group of now rowdy players. 
“Gross,” he huffs. He slides his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and stretches out on the bed like a cat. Jimin doesn’t play, but he certainly has the body of an athlete, all fine lines and corded muscle. “Ignore them.”
“I was doing that already.” You lift your book as if to prove yourself.
He snorts. “You were thinking about it, be honest.” Your silence is answer enough and Jimin grins, lacing his hands behind his head as he tilts toward the sun. “Don’t let Jungkookie burn again.”
“I’m not,” you huff before snapping your book shut. Jimin is in the circle of player’s partners that you genuinely enjoy, but he has the keen ability to get under your skin and tell you all of the truths that you don’t want to be voiced out loud. Still, having him on your side has more benefits than just keeping the hyenas away from you. He’s also genuinely nice when he wants to be. “Jungkook, wake up.”
The man mumbles and turns his head away from you. You sigh heavily, squeezing his strong, very sweaty arm gently. “Come on, you’re gonna burn if you stay out here any longer.”
“Mm. Feels nice.”
“A sunburn won’t feel nice.”
“You can rub aloe all over me.”
“I will not.”
“Just five more minutes.”
“Jeon.” 
He drops his arm from his eyes, squinting in the bright light at you. His hair is damp with sweat and hangs in his eyes. He’s been growing it out longer and longer, especially since Seokjin keeps encouraging Jungkook by telling him he has the best flow on the team. 
“So you don’t want to rub aloe all over me?”
“You don’t need to get sunburned for me to touch you, Jungkook.”
“Bleh,” Jimin grunts. 
That makes Jungkook sit up, rolling his shoulders and twisting to pop his back. He sighs for a moment, closing his eyes as though willing himself to get up. When he opens them again, there’s a light in them and he smirks, looking you up and down.
“Wanna shower?”
Your mouth twitches and you roll your eyes to hide how much you want to shiver. “Come on,” you sigh, getting up, the fabric of the sunbed clinging to your sweaty skin. 
Eyes cling to you as you pull the sundress over your head and slide your sandals on. You don’t have to glance over at the mini-party a few sunbeds over to know you’re being watched. You suppose they’re watching Jungkook more than anything, but you’re in direct view behind him, grabbing your book. 
You know Jungkook notices them. He says nothing, though. Instead, he offers his hand out when you shove all your belongings in a bag, wanting to carry it. You grin and hand it over to him, smile growing as he shoulders it easily and offers his hand again, this time for you to take.
And you do take it. Perhaps the satisfaction that thrums through you as he leads you out of the pool yard and onto the deck that crosses the lake toward his apartment building is a little bit insidious. You don’t care. The momentary triumph that you shouldn’t be feeling at all is far too powerful and Jungkook’s hand is far too warm and safe in yours to care about why you feel good about the public display of affection.
It isn’t like he hasn’t done it before. Jungkook isn’t shy with others in front of you. It’s what makes the whole thing worse, somehow. Because Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he introduces you to people and friends and slides between your legs to lean on you when you’re sitting on a barstool. He holds your hand when you go on a lunch and shopping spree with your mom and he brings her coffee and flowers. 
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but you don’t care when the shower hits the warm skin and runs down your back as he presses your chest to the cold shower wall in front of you. The cool stone stings against your nipples, over-sensitive and sending a shiver down your spine as your eyes flutter shut. 
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he curses low under the sound of the shower as he pries your legs apart, tongue seeking the heat between them hungrily. Your mouth falls open as Jungkook’s tongue licks you soft-slow, lips sucking gently against your clit. 
“Shit,” you hiss. The difference in temperatures between the hot water and the cold wall makes the room spin. Steam makes it harder to breathe, your head pleasure-dizzy as Jungkook laughs and rolls his tongue lazily around your dripping cunt. “Fuck.”
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he eats you out slow and hungry. He doesn’t care that the water starts to lose its warmth as his mouth works you, smacking his lips loudly and moaning, vibrations going straight to your core where you drip on his soft tongue. 
His hands grip your ass, fingers digging into the flesh as he pries you apart further, tongue delving into your aching hole. He slurps at you, mouth loud and sticky over the sound of your panting and the water hitting the tile floor. His little hums of appreciation buzz through you, making the room spin.
“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing your cheek to the wet, cold stone as you try to ground yourself. You twist an arm backward, gripping Jungkook’s wet hair. He lets out a loud groan in appreciation, always pleased when you pull on his hair. “Don’t stop.”
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he does whatever you want him to. His tongue delves in, working you to orgasm until you’re shaking against the wall, knees knocking together and nearly collapsing on him. He catches you easily, standing and pressing you against the wall as he grabs your chin and brings your mouth toward him, his to devour.
Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. 
But more than anything, you want him to be. 
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txttletale · 11 months ago
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NOT asking this as a gotcha, I'm 100% sincere, can you point to pieces of AI art that you feel are interesting uses of the medium? Because I'm not philosophically opposed to it, but at the same time I've never seen anything that wasn't naked bandwagon shilling by the same people who pushed NFTs
sure! i think a classic of the medium is secret horses
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(i sadly don't know who made it, but i've seen it around and fallen in love). this is everything AI art should be, imo, taking advantage of the liminal dreamlike quality of the medium and using titling and framing to say something about the piece that wouldn't exist if it was presented on its own. secret horses...
my favourite band, everything everything, released an album last year that made use of AI generation, both for the album's art and for small portions of the lyrics (interestingly, they've refused to say which lyrics are AI written and which are human written, which adds another layer of intrigue to me -- the only lyric that they've confirmed is AI generated is the title of 'software greatman', which forms the haunting, powerful chorus of the song that gets deconstructed into electronic incoherence. other highlights include the album art, part burning skyscape, part incomprehensible machine. what is the machine? is it a camera? a monitor? a train? does it matter?
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and finally from this album cycle i adore the hallucinogenic exuberance of their video for i want a love like this:
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in terms of dedicated artists working primarily within the AI medium, i'm a huge fan of @reachartwork, a really innovative artist who keeps blowing me away with evocative and interesting pieces and pioneer in ethical and cooperative AI art techniques. i'm an especially big fan of their grotesque and uncomfortable 'tooth machine' series:
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as well as their desolate, bleak, alien landscapes:
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(hole in the sky / river lethe )
and their project, the @infiniteartmachine, a model that produces art based upon algorithmically generated prompots -- effectively a long-term art piece.
finally, i'm a very very big fan of @roborosewater-masters, a bot that makes AI-created magic the gathering cards. this might not parse as 'art' to some people, or be interesting to analyze as such, but to me, someone obsessed with games and game studies, i think that the mix of synctactically correct magic the gathering rules text and abrupt non sequitur makes for really striking and funny pieces that prompt me to think about what the limits of games and gaming are
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these are just the artists and pieces i can name off the top of my head, but i hope that they're representative of what generative art has to offer when it's not being done by grifters chasing the lowest common denominator.
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handwrittenhello · 2 years ago
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Tumblr's Poorest Little Meow Meow
A poor little meow meow, by definition, must have three traits: soppingly wetly pathetic, squishy scrungly cute (or a similar attribute), and morally ambiguous. YOU will be voting for characters to win the title of
Poorest Wettest Saddest Littlest Meow Meow!
Character nominations were limited to one character per fandom and were crowdsourced.* Match-ups were made on a seeded basis according to character popularity, in the hopes of preventing a popularity contest from happening. Remember, it doesn't matter if they're your blorbo, we're trying to find the SADDEST and MOST ATROCIOUS little meow meow. Please evaluate how well they fill the attributes of a PLMM when you vote!
*If your poorest little meow meow didn't make the cut, sorry! Maybe we'll hold another round.
Polls will be held daily at noon EST. Here's the bracket. It's not fancy; nothing about this will be fancy. (These polls are just as pathetic as the characters they represent.)
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All posts will be tagged #tumblr's plmm contest
Check below for a list of all poll posts:
Round One (Feb 3 noon EST)
Loki Laufeyson (Marvel) vs. Jiang Cheng (The Untamed) Prince Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender) vs. L (Death Note) Izzy Hands (Our Flag Means Death) vs. Father Paul (Midnight Mass) Vriska Serket (Homestuck) vs. Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact) Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who) vs. Joel Miller (The Last of Us) Jesse Pinkman (Breaking Bad) vs. Harrowhark Nonagesimus (The Locked Tomb) Derek Hale (Teen Wolf) vs. Kendall Roy (Succession) Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars) vs. Lestat de Lioncourt (Interview with the Vampire) Dream of the Endless (The Sandman) vs. Emet Selch (Final Fantasy XV) Howl Jenkins (Howl's Moving Castle) vs. Daemon Targaryen (House of the Dragon) Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption 2) vs. Harry du Bois (Disco Elysium) Bruce Wayne aka RBattz (The Batman) vs. Villanelle (Killing Eve) Will Graham (Hannibal) vs. Seong Gi-hun (Squid Game) Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives) vs. Catra (She-Ra) Yennefer of Vengerberg (The Witcher) vs. Faith Lehane (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) Castiel (Supernatural) vs. Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows)
Round Two (February 4 noon EST)
Loki Laufeyson (Marvel) vs. Prince Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender) Izzy Hands (Our Flag Means Death) vs. Vriska Serket (Homestuck) Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who) vs. Jesse Pinkman (Breaking Bad) Kendall Roy (Succession) vs. Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars) Dream of the Endless (The Sandman) vs. Howl Jenkins (Howl's Moving Castle) Harry du Bois (Disco Elysium) vs. Bruce Wayne (The Batman) Will Graham (Hannibal) vs. Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives) Yennefer of Vengerberg (The Witcher) vs. Castiel (Supernatural)
Round Three (February 5 noon EST)
Prince Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender) vs. Vriska Serket (Homestuck) Jesse Pinkman (Breaking Bad) vs. Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars) Harry du Bois (Disco Elysium) vs. Howl Jenkins (Howl's Moving Castle) Will Graham (Hannibal) vs. Castiel (Supernatural)
Round Four (February 6 noon EST)
Harry du Bois (Disco Elysium) vs. Will Graham (Hannibal) Vriska Serket (Homestuck) vs. Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars)
Final Round (February 7 noon EST)
Vriska Serket (Homestuck) vs. Harry du Bois (Disco Elysium)
The winner will be crowned on February 8. May the most sopping wet paper towel of a person win!
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4m1rz · 3 months ago
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Young Luv
NMIXX Sullyoon x Male Reader
Kink: multiple creampies, class sex, mommy kink
Special thanks to @lustspren for giving me the idea for the title of the fic. Also thanks to @mode-lfy for beta-read it as well being the inspiration of the fic.
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It was a normal day in PJY University. All of the students have done the middle term exam and are waiting to know how they did and what their results will be. This also includes Han Yechan, despite him being nervous about it.
Han Yechan is in the final year of university. He is well known to be the top athlete in the university as being the notorious basketball player of the university. He is always getting picked for basketball matches, whether it's against other universities or the nationals. This even happens in his final year as he is still being scouted for those matches.
However, due to him being too active with his basketball matches, his grades were always at the lowest. This causes him to always get scolded by the lecturers that teach his classes. Some lecturers even threaten him by saying that they will report it to the coach of the basketball team, hoping that he'll get dropped off from the team.
This makes him scared a bit despite the fact that he believes that the basketball coach would not be removing his name from the team. Unfortunately, no matter how he tries, he is not able to catch up with the learnings due to his hectic schedule. This does make him a bit frustrated and almost given up as he does not want to repeat his semesters.
This time however, he is confident that he will pass the exam. The reason; he had an amazing tutor that helped him to study back the subjects he's been missing for such a long time. His tutor also tries the best to make him focus on his study and gives advice.
Back to the present time, Yechan is at the entrance of his classroom. As he opens the door, he notices there are some students already in the classroom. However, there is one girl who takes all of his attention which is the class representative, Seol Yoona or mostly known as Sullyoon.
Sullyoon is the daughter of the university director, Seol Taehyun. She is always being talked about all around the university because of her beauty. However, there's also some students and lecturers in the university who talk badly about her.
The first reason is about how inappropriate she wears on the university campus. This can be seen with how short her skirt is and the unnecessary accessory all over her uniform. She is also being talked badly about because she always gets good scores in exams as if she bribes the lecturers that teach her by using his dad as a threat. Nonetheless, there is still someone that believes how she actually is.
Back to the present time, Yechan walks towards where Sullyoon is sitting and greets her. “Hey there Yoona, how are you doing today?” He says. Despite almost all of the students and lecturers calling her Sullyoon, only Yechan prefers to call her by her real name. He believes that her real name suits her and sounds prettier, which makes him constantly calling her that.
This makes her look at him with her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Hey Yechan. I'm doing just fine. Are you excited to know your result for this exam?” She chimes which makes him giggle and scratch his head awkwardly. “I sup-pose… Well then, I'm going to my seat.” He exclaims, to which she nods and lets him go to his seat.
Several minutes later, everyone else was already in the class and the lecturer, Ms Song Jimin had finally arrived. She teaches the subject a bit first before announcing that she'll be giving the results of the exam. This causes some students to be nervous yet excited at the same time.
And with that, it is time to announce the grades for every student in the class, starting from the lowest and progressively moving to the highest. After Ms Song reveals each student's result, they go to the front and take the exam paper. However, most of the students in the class feel weird as Yechan’s name hasn't been called as they know that he always has the lowest grade.
“Now, I'll announce the ones getting the highest grades for the exam. This time, there's two people in this class that achieve the highest grades...” The lecturer says and then continues. “The first person is, as always, our class representative, Sullyoon.” She says to which it is followed with an applause from everyone in the class. Then, Sullyoon goes to the front and takes her graded exam paper before Ms Song says to her, “Keep up the good work.”
“For the second person, oh wow… I didn't expect this would happen. It's Han Yechan.” She says it with a very surprised yet excited tone. This results in all of the students in the class to be shocked and engage in small chats amongst each other as this incident hasn't happened till now. Then, he shyly walks to the front and takes the exam paper.
“I didn't expect you'd ace this exam, Yechan. Did you cheat or is someone able to tutor you?” Ms. Song asks him which makes him chuckle sheepishly before answering. “Yeah, I had someone to tutor me. That someone is able to make me recap the whole subject without letting me be distracted. I really have to thank that person later.” He says.
After that, he walks back towards his seat. As he was going back to his seat, he felt someone had passed a folded paper on his used-to-be-free hand. Nonetheless, he waits until he is finally at his seat before unfolding the paper to which there's something written on it:
‘Stay with me here after class’
-SY-
After he reads the paper, he looks to the possible culprit which is Sullyoon to see that she's looking back at him. Then, she gives him a sultry wink which makes him giggle a bit. He is eager to know what she is up to later on.
About 3 hours later, at around 5 pm, the class ends; to be frank, it's the only class of the day. Everyone in the class starts to leave the classroom one by one, except for Yechan and Sullyoon. After it is confirmed that there's only the two of them in the class, Sullyoon walks towards the door before closing and locking it.
After that, she walks towards Yechan's seat before sitting on his table. However, before she sits on his table, she lifts his head before pecking his lips which makes him a bit stunned. “Congrats baby, I knew you could ace this exam.” She says.
Well, there is a secret that both of them have been keeping from anyone else in which they are secretly a couple. They have been dating in secret for about 4 months now since the day that she agrees to tutor him. The person that he has been thanking earlier is actually her.
That is also why he didn't believe any of the rumours that had been pointed towards her. Despite sometimes asking her dad to do or buy stuff for her, she is mostly independent and very hardworking. This is mostly due to her dad trains her to do things by herself and not hoping for others yet still pampering her with love and wealth. He also remembers how diligently she tutors him for the exam.
“Hehe, thanks… It is all thanks to my beautiful, sexy and diligent tutor right in front of me. I thank you so much for it, babe.” He says and gives her a wink. Somehow, she suddenly frowns after he says that. Then, she leans forward and grabs his necktie before tugging it towards her, making their face really close.
“That’s not what you should call me right now, baby. Come on, call me correctly.” She says while giving him a sultry smirk. Knowing her agenda, he playfully rolls his eyes before saying back. “Ugh, fine. Thank you so much for tutoring me, mommy.” This makes her giggle before releasing her grip on his necktie.
“That's more like it, baby. You're such a good boy.” She exclaims and returns him back with a wink. “Oh please mommy, don't act like you're the dominant one here. I still remember the way you begged me the last time I rammed your pussy.” He retorts with a playful mocking tone. This only makes her giggle even more.
“What can I say, my sweet, strong baby has an amazing dick, mmmmh…” She says and licks her lips, imagining how he always fuck her. He is only able to shake his head while looking at her expressions.
“... Anyways, since you did excel in this exam, I will tell you your gift as promised. Well, it's in front of you right now.” She chimes and gives yet another wink. “So… you're my gift huh? Hehe, I guess you finally want to fulfill your fantasy of getting fucked in the classroom, mommy. About time we make these soundproof walls for good use.” He retorts and smirks at her.
Apparently, the whole university building had soundproofing walls installed about a year ago, thanks to Sullyoon asking her dad for it. She says that she wants it to make her even more focused in class but deep down, she really wants to have sex at school which is on her bucket list.
“Mommy has been planning for this since forever…” She says. Then, she suddenly lifts her skirt a bit, showing her laced purple panties that already had some wet spots on her crotch region. “... besides, don't you want to help mommy fulfill her bucket list of getting fucked in school?” She continues before biting her lips seductively.
This causes his dick to start getting hard underneath his pants, creating a bulge. She smirks even more, seeing how her actions make him hard already.
“Alright, fine mommy. I'm also getting impatient with all of your teasing. Let's start now.” He says which makes her feel giddy. “Now that's a good boy. However, mommy has set up some rules. Mommy only letting you to fuck my pussy for up to 3 rounds. Also, you must cum with mommy for each round, understand?” She orders to which he nods to it.
After that, she gets down from the table and starts pulling down her skirt and panties at the same time. This also indicates him to pull down his pants and boxers, revealing his already hard dick. Upon seeing his hard dick, she smirks more before getting onto his lap, sitting right on top of his dick. Then, she starts to grind on it which makes both of them moan.
“Mmmh, mommy… I thought you wanted to do this quickly.” He whines which makes her giggle. “Be patient, baby. Mommy wants to… mmmmh… make your dick wet enough first.” After a while, as she confirms that his dick is wet enough, she lifts herself a bit. Then, she holds his dick, aiming with her pussy before plunging down, making both of them moan even more.
“Oh god, your pussy still feels so tight, mommy… Even af-ter what we did two days ago, mmmmh.” Yechan chimes. As Sullyoon keeps on riding his dick, both of them start to unbutton each of their shirts before removing it, leaving him fully naked while her with only a matching laced purple bra which he then unclasps and removes it from her.
After removing her bra, he immediately attacks her tits with licks, sucks and bites which makes her squirm more. “Mmmmh, that's it baby. Make mommy’s tits feel good, oh gosh!!” Her response makes him do it more to her a lot more erratically.
About 15 minutes later, both of them feel each other about to have their own releases with his dick pulsating and her pussy throbbing. “Go on t-then, baby. Cum with mommy. Mommy needs to be filled right now, mmmmh…” Sullyoon groans, which leads to them to cum at once and also indicates the first creampie for her.
Five minutes worth of pantings later, she gets up from his lap and their mixed cums start to get out from her pussy. “Oops, it starts leaking. I guess you have to fill mommy with your cum again, baby.” She says to him with a smirk on her face. This makes him scoff before getting up and carrying her towards the lecturer table.
As he put her on the table, she instantly spreads her leg, insisting him to fuck her in that instance. However, instead of inserting his dick back into her pussy, he inserts two fingers inside her and starts fingering. This makes her shocked which leads to her whining madly.
“Nnngh, come on baby. Fuck mommy’s pussy again, I need it!!!” This makes him chuckle and pulls his fingers before pushing his dick back into her pussy. “Y-Yes, baby. Fuck this needy mommy of yours, nice and hard, mmmh.” She squeals loudly, feeling the pleasure from getting her pussy filled with his dick.
As he thrusts his dick back inside her pussy and starts fucking her again, he wants to ask the one question he had since before they did this. “So mommy, that purple lingerie… mmmmh… seems new. When exactly did you buy- oh god- those? How exactly have you been…. mmmmh… planning this?” His question makes her chuckle with moans in between.
“Oh baby, mommy just bought that purple lingerie a couple days ago. You see, mommy has been planning this… mmmmh… since our exam ended a few weeks ago.” She answers, yet she continues more. “Mommy knows that you have worked hard for the test… and I might have been spoiled with the results earlier than the rest of us since my dad got the info from our teacher. That's why I've been preparing for this.”
Her answers make him become more ecstatic which causes him to thrust into her pussy even faster and harder from their first round. This causes her to moan as loud as she could, as if she was screaming for her life.
“Y-Yes baby!!! Keep fucking my pussy. Make mommy sore really good at the end of this session, oh god!!” Her moans just keep making him more aroused to which he complies with keep fucking her pussy. It didn't take a long time after that before both of them cum at the same time yet again, which also makes it the second time he fills her up with his cum.
“Make sure you hold it in this time, mommy.” He warns her to not let his cum to get out from her pussy. However, as soon as he pulls out his dick, a huge load of their mixed cums spill out from her. This makes him sigh before looking at her face to see a huge smirk is formed on her face.
He then puts his hand around her neck, lightly chokes her. “You really know how to make me infuriated. Such a bratty mommy you are.” He playfully mocks her to which she nods pretty quickly to it. “Yes baby, I am your bratty mommy. I love to make you mad so that you could fuck mommy harder and harder.” She answers with gleaming eyes.
Her answers just make him only able to shake his head, baffled at her brattiness. Minutes later, he lifts her once again and carries her towards the classroom door. Then, he bends her over before lining himself at her back.
“Y-Yah, why here? Don't we have somewhere else in this classroom to fuck?” She asks with a worried tone which results in him scoffing. “Oh please mommy, you're the one who is always asking for having sex in public places. Besides, when we did it, your pussy seemed to be wetter, as if you really wanted us to get caught.”
She shakes her head to what he just said, trying to deny his exclamation. However, it is futile as he pushes his dick back into her pussy to experience that her pussy is indeed, feels a lot wetter than their previous two rounds. With a smirk on his face, he mouths ‘I told you so’ at her before pounding her pussy again.
She still tries to retaliate, meeting his poundings and shaking her head continuously while looking at him innocently, she tried though. However, it is no use as he hardens his poundings every time she tries to meet his pounds. In the end, she just whimpers before admitting her defeat.
“F-Fine, you win. Mommy always wanted us to have sex… nnng… in secluded public places. Mommy also loves adrenaline when doing it and hopes we might have a moment when we almost got caught doing this.” This results with him humming in satisfaction towards her response as he's still pounding her pussy.
As time goes by, both of them are at the brink of cumming for the third and final round of their sex sessions. “G-Gosh, baby… I'm so close and I know you are too. Fill mommy’s pussy one last time with your hot cum, please, mmmmh!!!” She insists on him. In the end, he obliges and after a minute later, he releases the final load of cum for the session deep inside her pussy. This also triggers her to cum all over his lower body.
As both of them are panting after that tiring session, Yechan roams his hands all over Sullyoon's body, trying to prolong the sensation of their orgasms. This makes her hum, feeling the warmth of his touch. Amusingly, he ends it by giving her butt cheeks some spanking which makes her yelp and turns her head towards him before giving her a playful yet deadly glare.
He then pulls his dick from her pussy after he feels that he has felt relaxed enough after his orgasm. Fortunately, this time, there is just a small amount of their mixed cums spilling out. “I guess you do know how to save my cum inside of you after all, mommy.” He says with a big smirk on his face which makes her scoff as if he's mocking her.
“Anyways, do you like the prize that I have prepared for you, baby?” She asks him, right after she turns around from her previous position. He just nods as an answer. “It was, indeed. Honestly, any present from you is good enough for me, but this is definitely top tier. At least, we're able to fulfill your bucket list.” He continues not until there's a loud rumbling sound coming from their tummies.
This makes both of them chuckle, knowing that both of them are exactly hungry. “Well then, I guess we better get something to eat. We did spend our time here without knowing it's almost dinner time.” Sullyoon says while looking at the wall clock in the classroom.
“I guess you're correct, Yoona.” He says which results in him getting pinched by her. “Yah, I told you to call me that when we're in public. You can only call me baby or mommy when it's just the two of us.” She whines and follows it up with her lips pouting. This makes him chuckle, seeing her looking so cute at the moment before giving those lips of hers some pecks.
“Hehe, I know… It's just, I love to see your pouting lips when you're upset.” He explains. “Anyways, let's get back dressed and get ourselves our dinner. I'm sure you're up for more rounds after dinner. Gonna get your other two holes to be filled with my cream.” He adds more with a smirk on his face to which, there is also a smirk appearing on her face as well. Nonetheless, they went back to where their outfits are left, putting them back on before leaving the classroom.
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natlovesls2 · 2 months ago
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Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
Lando x Fem!Reader
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), gaslighting, sexism/ internalized misogyny, swearing, no use of y/n, some plot but not much, rushed, grammar mistakes, etc. Please remember that this is fiction, and in no way represents Lando as a person
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1.7k
*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You love Lando but he does not feel the same, no matter how long you've waited (For the most part its just inspired Sitting, Waiting, Wishing from the In Between Dreams album, as the title of the fic says)
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‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚
You had always made it painfully clear to Lando that your feelings for him were anything but platonic. If the constant heart eyes weren't enough to prove it then the little gifts and compliments surely should have made it abundantly clear. Surely he wasn’t THAT oblivious, and he wasn’t. You had often heard him boasting to his friends about your everlasting and eager love for him. There was one such instance that you remembered quite well– he had asked you to be his date to some event, in which you had, of course, ended up alone. “Thanks for agreeing to be my date, don’t know what I’d do without you,” he had said as if it even mattered that you were there. 
You watched Lando interact with some bitch he met at– long having forgotten about your presence. Sometimes it felt as if you were a stranger who was invading his space– uninvited and unwanted. She hadn’t wronged you in any way and, yet, you hated her. You hated her stupid face and her stupidly short dress that made her look like a cheap whore. It was obvious that it had to be the reason he was so enamored with her, she looked easy and Lando loved easy girls– and she was practically begging to be fucked. She wrapped her hand around Landos arm and you wished you would walk over to them and break her fucking arm. 
He made it very clear that night that he would never love you, at least not in a romantic sense, he's made that perfectly clear. But no matter how many times he humiliates you, you will fight for his affection, always. Even if that affection comes in the form of lust and only ever is lust.
His constant disregard for your feelings led you to promise yourself that you wouldn’t find yourself in this position with Lando again. In fact, you had sworn that last time would be the final time you found yourself tangled in his bed sheets. Truthfully you had never been strong minded, always giving up on those fitness challenges and never finishing the long books you bought with the intent to feel smart and accomplished. But you were tired of being so destructive– of ruining yourself for someone who obviously didn't give a rats ass. Maybe that's why you were in his apartment, to end it all– at least that's what you were telling yourself. It was all rather pathetic: the look you gave him as he went on about whatever he‘d been going through before you had gotten there. 
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered, bringing his hands to rest on either side of your hips, occasionally rubbing circles with his thumbs. You knew what he’d be doing if you weren’t there, fucking whatever bimbo threw herself at him. He pulled you closer, resting his head in the crook of your neck, “You’re awfully quiet– what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You could feel yourself begin to give into his intentions– you never were good at saying no to him. After all, your plan to avoid him and kick him out of your life altogether had lasted nearly two weeks… more like five days, but stretching the truth has never hurt anyone.
“Nothing,” you sigh, threading your fingers through his hair, slowly melting into his touch. You could resist the feeling his voice and touch brought upon you. You suppose that's why you’re here again, clothes slightly askew and hair a messy tangle. His hands eagerly explore the expanse of your body, lips impatiently marking down your neck. “I've missed this so much,” he raggedly whispers against your shoulder, rolling his hips against your own. His hands continue to wander, coming to rest at your clothed breasts, gently squeezing them. 
You pull his head up, body leaning into his in a heated kiss– feeling the vibration of his moans against your lips. This wasn’t something you were particularly proud of, but it kept him close to you. It allowed him to show an ounce of affection towards you, even if that affection was pure and unfiltered lust. “Need you,” you whispered in between rushed kisses, trailing kisses down the side of his jaw.  
“I know” he grunted, movements slowing as he brought his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, fingers ghosting over your underwear. Gently applying pressure to your clothed clit, stopping only to move your panties to the side, “God, baby, you’re already so wet.” He teasingly ran his finger up your slit and back down, only inserting the tip of his finger. Lando smirked down at you when you greedily attempted to shift your hips in hopes of getting some sort of relief. He kissed the expanse of your thighs, pulling your underwear down your legs and away. A few more kisses were placed on your thighs before he turned his attention to your pussy, teasingly licking and kissing the area. 
“Please,” you let out a whine as he slowly inserted a finger into your needy and begging pussy. He chuckled at the strangled moan that left your mouth, pressing kisses down your body, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. He continued to work his finger in and out of your pussy, adding another after a while, getting you ready for what was to come.
“Take this off,” he mumbled against your cunt, impatiently pulling the hem of your shirt up exposing your stomach, urging you to pull it off the rest of the way. You pulled the shirt off, tossing it aside before doing the same with your bra.
Your thighs involuntarily close around his head as he curls his fingers, thrusting them a few more times before removing them. He smirked at you, watching as your chest rapidly rose and fell, pushing his face further between your thighs– lapping up your arousal. The slurping like noise coming from between your thighs, giving you a wave of embarrassment as you reached down to tug at his curls. He fucked his tongue in and out, occasionally pulling fully out to run it up to your clit– swirling the nub around. His fingers found their way inside you again as he noticed your brows furrow together, a sign you were getting closer to coming. He increased his speed as your back arched, whines becoming loud moans as you clench around his fingers. 
“I’ll never get tired of seeing that,” he whispers, kissing up your body, wrapping his mouth around your left nipple, cupping and groping your other boob. 
“Mm” you whine, reaching a hand down to massage at his bulge. You felt him smirk against your breast, letting it go with an audible pop.
“So impatient, so desperate for a good fucking, huh?”
You nod rapidly, pushing at his pants, watching as he unbuttons his pants and kicks them off along with his underwear. He smirks as you open your legs wider, wincing slightly as he strokes his almost painfully hard dick, lining it up to your entrance. Perhaps you should have cared a little more as he pushed in with a condom, but in the moment it felt good to be wanted.
 A shuddered breath left you as he began to thrust, strong and steady, the faint sound of skin slapping against skin sounding in the room. “Feels so fucking good,” shakily said, wrapping your legs around Landos waist. Truly it felt as if your whole body had been lit on fire, you were burning with desire. 
“I know it does, baby– shit,” he grunted, slamming his hips against your own at a fast pace, snaking his hand down to rub tight circles against your clit. You clenched around him, quickly reaching your second orgasm. He sped up, holding your hips down, the headboard slamming against the wall. With a deep groan Lando came, spilling inside of you, he pulled out laying down beside you. 
“You don’t need me to drive you home do you?” he asked tiredly, voice a little shaky. 
“No, I drove here.” You stood up collecting your clothes, slipping them on one article at a time. The embarrassment began to seep in, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You sighed, turning to face Lando who now sat at the edge of his bed, “I can’t do this anymore, Lando.”
“Do what?”
“God, you know what I mean!” you said exasperatedly, running a hand through your sweaty and unruly hair.  
“I don’t, so why don't you enlighten me?” he said back, his tone shifting to something more harsh instead of the innocent tone he had been using.
“Us– this whole back and forth thing. I can’t– I just… I love you and you don’t love me. And I can’t continue to be the person you only use when you need them.”
“What?” he rose from his spot, glaring at you.
“God, don’t act like you haven’t noticed– I’ve made it pretty fucking obvious, Lando,” you raised your voice, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
“You haven't–” he started. 
“Yeah, because sleeping with you isn't obvious enough. Just cut the bullshit.”
“I don’t know what you expect of me, I thought you were okay with being friends– we’ve had this conversation before, you said it was fine,” he took a step closer to you, eyes glaring into your own. He was challenging you, like he always did, because he knew you always gave in. Always accepted whichever shitty excuse he gave. Always accepted the whole “I’m not ready for a relationship” spiel. 
“Friends don’t fuck eachother, Lando.”
“Well we do, and if you can’t accept that we’ll never be more than friends then you can take your slutty ass out of here.” This was your breaking point. It hadnt been his abandonment at parties, or the way he bragged about how you let him fuck you to his friends, or the sheer lack of care for your emotional wellbeing. No, it was the way he had spat that word at you– slut. That's all you had been throughout the majority of your friendship. A hole that had been willing to be filled.
You started at him, mouth agape with disbelief, “You’re a fucking asshole. Oh my god, how did I not notice,” you let out a humorless laugh, shoving him out of the way. And as you walked out of his home, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You had a lot to learn and unlearn.
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚
*ੈ✩‧₊˚note: this was my first time writing smut, so I apologize if it sucks or makes no sense. feedback is appreciated, but please be nice because I scare easily lol
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fanttasttica · 5 months ago
Text
Strawberry tarts
Rhysand x reader Living in the Autumn court isn't nice, especially if you are female. Arranged marriages are common, so it wasn't surprising it also happened to you. What of course caught you off guard is that your future husband is Rhysand, High lord of the Night court, who is probably the most dangerous man alive. You heard horror stories about him and his court, but are these stories true? Warnings: misogyny, arranged marriage Word count: 8690 (oops)
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Being the daughter of a nobleman in Autumn court wasn't something you would wish for. Truth to be told, it is quite the opposite actually. It is a common knowledge that when a female is born in this court, her only purpose in life is to be wed, often at a very young age. She is raised to dance, sing, entertain and obey her husband. She should do anything he wants, be his perfect little wife and of course, birth as many children, preferably boys, as possible. This is how your mother was raised and therefore, how you were raised. Your parents didn't love each other, a very few people in Autumn court loved their partners. And you knew.. maybe one? Two? It is maybe not that surprising that you no longer believed in love. It was better not to. So you could prevent being disappointed. The only thing you were slightly hoping for is for your husband to be at least a little kind to you and leave no marks on your body, unlike Beron, your High lord, did on his wife.
The feeling of accomplishment couldn't possibly miss your mother. In the end, she was marrying you off to Rhysand, High lord of the Night court. You still weren't sure how that happened. Your father was Beron's close friend, a very important member of his court. From what you were told, you understood that the High lord of night wanted to secure a peace between courts. In the past one engagement already happened, but wasn't successfully sealed in marriage. You heard stories about Morrigan and Eris, Beron's oldest son, an heir. Their story happened many years before you were even born and there still was some tension. Not wanting to risk another female from the Night court to change her mind, they probably decided to try it the opposite way and provide a female from the Autumn court from a man from the Night. And that man happened to be the High lord himself. 
Your wedding gown was modest. A little bit wider skirt, plain without anything to make it more interesting. Neckline up to the neck. White, symbol of purity. This dress was making you anxious. They were suffocating you, or maybe was it the thing they represented? Marriage. Today, you are going to marry probably the most dangerous man in Prythian. You are going to be his wife. His property. You were terrified of the unknown. If you were to be wed to some lord from your court, you would at least know how cruel they were, but about him.. You knew nothing other than his title and name. And that many people feared him. But was he really that bad? Were they telling you these stories because they wanted to warn you or just scared you into submission? Maybe he was secretly kind? You didn't know the answers to your question and you certainly weren't going to get them before you two would be married.
As you stood before the doors that were going to open in a matter of minutes and lead you to the new chapter of your life, you put a mask on your face. You were determined to not let them see your fear. “Don't mess anything up.” Your father hissed into your ear, as he stood beside you, ready to walk you down the aisle. “I won't”, you replied, trying to convince him and also yourself. You didn't have the chance to say anything more, not that you actually had something to say to your father, before the doors finally opened.
There were many guests, who were trying to get a better look at you and, while they stood on both sides as you walked down the aisle. Your heart was pounding fast in your chest and your head was ringing, but you forced yourself to walk forward. You avoided looking at your future husband until the last second, however, when your father finally let go of you and placed your hand into the other, warm one, you looked up and then.. your heart practically stopped. He was gorgeous. His purple eyes, shining like stars in the sky, were looking at you with kindness, as if they were trying to convince you that everything will be better from now on. And you really really wanted to believe them. 
The rest of the ceremony went quiet quickly. You said your vows and exchanged a kiss, well only on a cheek, which was a little bit disappointing but at the same time, it was a relief, because at the end, you didn't want to have your first real kiss in front of this massive audience. Now it was time for a party and that was actually nice. The attention of the guests turned from you to drinks, food, music and dance. You could breathe calmly for the first time today, even when your new husband was sitting next to you. He was so close you could feel his warmth, his scent and power that was radiating from him. Surprisingly, it wasn't scaring you at all. You should be scared of it, of him, that is for sure, but still.. you weren't and ironically, that was something that was scaring you a little bit. “You should eat something”, a velvet voice came from your husband, as you turned to look at him. “Are you not hungry? It is.. a long time since breakfast and of course the ceremony.. Or if you don't like this, I Can arrange something else for you. Whatever you would like.” Looking down on your untouched plate, touched by his kind offer, you decided to speak to him, for the first time. Wel.. for the first time since the ceremony, during which you promised him our loyalty and obedience. “No, but thank you, this.. will do.” You smiled, feeling a little bit shy, as you took your first bite. Citrus roasted duck with crispy potatoes, it wasn't that bad and it was true you should eat, as Rhys said, but your appetite was greatly affected by your nerves. You ate about a third of your plate, before putting your fork and knife down again, still feeling his eyes on you. “That is all?” he sounded surprised, but you only shrugged in response. “I am not that hungry today”, meeting his eyes. There was a hint of understanding. “Perhaps tomorrow I can take you to some restaurant in Velaris. To.. try something new, eat properly. Don't worry, I know what is good” as he flashed his smile at you, you were a little bit confused. “Velaris? What is that?” You never heard of it. Was it some restaurant? He replied simply, “Your new home.”
After hearing those awful things about your husband, you never expected his home to be so.. beautiful. No, magical is actually a better word. You heard about some place called Hewn city. It was described like a dark unwelcoming place, but this was quite the opposite. This city, Velaris, seemed peaceful, full of the happiness of its citizens. After winnowing, Rhysand, as he insisted you to call him, instead of My lord, brought you to this room. Your new room in your new home. It was.. strange to not be in your family's house. Knowing that if you were to go down into the living room, they wouldn't be there. Instead, there would be a bunch of a little bit scary and tall,well.. except Amren, people you knew almost nothing about. As Rhysand told you, many of them were not actually living there, but sometimes it looked like they did and since you didn't know what to think about it, you decided simply not to. Instead, you took a bath, with bubbles in it. Know you smelled like lavenders, while you brushed your hair, looking in the mirror and waiting for Rhysand. As your mother told you the night before, he was supposed to come and make you a women, whatever that meant. Your lack of knowledge wasn't helping to calm down your nerves, as you waited for him. But he never came that night. When you woke up the next day, the sun was already in the sky and birds were singing outside your window. It seemed like a nice morning, calm, until you heard someone almost shouting down in the gardens. To cover yourself up, you took a prepared robe, lying on a chair next to your king sized bet. Maybe you should not have been so curious, but wanting to know what was happening, brought you to a smaller balcony, which was connected to your room. Leaning to a railing, so you could see what was going on, you saw two mens and one woman. Now, actually sawing them, you recognized them immediately. They were at the wedding yesterday, High lords closest friends, his Inner circle. “I am deeply sorry if they woke you up, I told them to wait repeatedly, but.. they are too stubborn.” That velvet voice once again, like music to your ears, brought your attention to the left, where you saw another small balcony. There was a table, two chairs, one currently occupied by the High lord himself. He was drinking coffee, looking at you with a little smile. “It is okay. It's time to wake up anyways.” You didn't mind. “Maybe, but I wanted you to sleep in a little bit. Yesterday was a big day. Only if someone would listen to me for once and not ignore everything I say in my own court.” He raised his words at the end of his sentence, clearly talking to the group below. “Oh common Rhysie, this isn't fair. We only wanted to finally meet your beautiful wife, since you decided yesterday to only keep her for yourself.” The general's voice was provocative, which was new for you. Beron wouldn't tolerate it, however innocently it sounded. “Yeah, that wasn't very nice, Rhys.” That female, Morrigan, said with a grin on her face. The third one, Azriel, turned his attention immediately towards you, ignoring how his friends were taunting your husband.. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a hint of encouraging smile in his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine. It is nice to meet you. All of you.” You smiled politely, looking from Azriel, to Morrigan and lastly Cassian.                   
After freshening your face and dressing up in a nice and elegant dress, you decided to be brave and go downstairs to eat breakfast. You were quite hungry, understandably, since you didn't eat that much yesterday. And you also wanted to get to know the others a little bit more. After your earlier encounter, it was more than clear that they weren't leaving, until they had the chance to speak to you first. 
Walking in the hall and to the dining room was easy, thanks to the cauldron and you also had time to look around a house a little bit more. It was elegant here, the furniture looked really expensive. There were some portraits hanging. On the first one you saw, there was a whole Inner circle, then Rhysand with a crown on his head, you suspected it was painted on the day or day after he became High lord, and next to you, there was a portrait of two women. One looked solder, barely off age and the other one was clearly her mother. Although you never met them and couldn't remember their names, you recognized some similarities in their faces and Rhysand's. “My mother and sister..” Rhysand appeared next to you in a second you were absently looking at the two womens. “It is a pity they aren't here to meet you. My sister always wanted another sister, so they could make fun of me together and I am sure my mother would love you as if you were her actual daughter.” A little bit surprised at his statement, you looked at his handsome face. “How can you know? We barely.. know each other and those are some strong words.” There was a hint of mistrust in your voice. “I just know..” 
The breakfast was delicious and others seemed really nice and friendly, which caught you off guard once again. Cassian, however scary he could appear, was one of the funniest people in the world, telling jokes and stories about everyone in the room and what they experienced together in all those centuries. Morrigan was the person who matched his personality perfectly. Although you didn't expect them to be like this, you were actually having a nice time. It was so different from the breakfast you usually had at home. Azriel along with Amren were a little bit quieter, but still friendly towards you and they tried to make you feel welcome. And Rhysand.. Actually you weren't sure what to think of him. After your little chat in the hall, you came to breakfast together and he helped you sit by pushing your chair. He was behaving like a true gentleman, completely opposite to what they told you in Autumn court. You were pulled to reality from thinking by Morrigan. “Y/N you simply must come with me today. I plan to go shopping. I need some new dress and you definitely too, because females just can not have enough dresses. And after that we can maybe go to this little bakery, they have the best sweets.” She was trying to persuade you to accompany her. You smiled at her, touched that she wanted to spend more time with you. Maybe she was going to be your first friend here? Well officially. Unofficially you started liking them all. “Well, I would like to join you,” you said truthfully, “If it's okay, of course?” You added as you looked over your husband, whose purple eyes were watching you. “Of course it is okay. You are free to do whatever your heart decides. Buy everything you need or simply want.” He smiled at you, looking over at Morrigan. “I am sure my cousin will more than happily be at your assistance,  especially, I will be paying.”
“Morrigan, I just do not need so many things. This is getting really absurd.” You said after trying on maybe ten dresses. And many skirts and pants before. Yes, you could wear pants here. Another shock for you, since this was unacceptable in your home court. “Oh my dear friend, we barely started. I know you have many dresses from Autumn court, but now you are in the Night court. You need to look like it and more importantly, you need to feel comfortable. So now hush and tell me the truth. Do you really like to wear something like this? Or you simply were taught you have to wear clothes like this, although you do not like how it looks or how comfortable it is?” You knew from her face that lying wasn't the opportunity, so you sighed. “It.. doesn't really feel like me and.. it is not comfortable that much.” However simple it sounded, this was a big step for you, since you were always taught to not complain about anything, not having your own opinion. And something in Morrigan's face told you, she was having the same thoughts as you. 
Leaving with three bags in each hand, you finally left the store. The amount of money you left there was enormous, but Morrigan was assuring you, Rhysnad wouldn't mind, so you decided to believe her and relax a little bit. Well, you surely made the owner happy and your closet fuller. You went to the bakery and bought a delicious strawberry tart, your favorite treat, and now you were just walking around the city, enjoying the sunny day and your new blossoming friendship. “It was an amazing day Morrigan, I am very thankful for you. It means a lot that you are so .. friendly to me.” You said a little bit shyly. “Oh Y/N.. It's been my pleasure. You are Rhysand's wife, one of us. My new friend. But don't you dare to think this day is over, we have one more shop we need to visit.” Her eyes sparkled in mischief. Only if you knew what was coming.
“Oh you can not mean this seriously!” You gasped, horrified, while looking at the next shop your friend picked. It was highly inappropriate for you to visit a place like this. “Oh, but I mean. Don't worry, you will be thanking me one day.” 
Your day with Morrigan was fun, but the next day, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Your feets were hurting, your head was hurting. You felt like she talked the hole in it. But inside you knew, you would be very happy if she would take you out soon again. And you also knew that if you really were to stay in your bed all day, you would be bored out of your mind after an hour. You need something to focus on, something to do. And then you remembered the strawberry tarts you had yesterday. Not wanting to go to the city, you decided to bake them on your own today. Fortunately, you knew the receipt already by your heart and in the kitchen was everything you needed. Nuala and Cerridwen, twins you met for the first time today, offered to bake that treat for you, but after some persuading, they agreed to only help you a little bit and let you roam in the kitchen mostly as you pleased. 
The two females, who were accompanying you, were quiet and shy, choosing their words wisely. THe time you spent with them was like a silent dance, but not uncomfortable. It was rather peaceful and warm, almost like in home you never had but dreamed about having, when you were little. You were actually finishing the last one, when you heard a loud and funny voice that belonged to no one else than Cassian. “You are a lucky one Rhys. What would I do to have a beautiful wife like you, who also cooks, so the whole house smells nicely.” You blushed at his comment, not meeting any of their eyes. “For that complement, I think you deserve to have the first one to try it.” You said, taking the plate and placing the tart on it, along with a small spoon and handing it to him. You made enough tarts for all of them, wanting to only kill the time, but also make something nice, since they welcomed you with open arms. While Rhys said nothing, he was smiling at you, eyes shining adoringly, which caused you to blushed even more than before. “It is delicious, can I have one or two more?” Too busy looking at your husband, you didn't even notice that Cassian already managed to eat his first portion.
Instead of one or two more strawberry tarts, Cassian ate five in a few minutes. Looking at him surprised with Rhysand standing next to you, almost brushing his arm on you, he said “Cassian has a great appetite. I believe he would eat everything you made today, if he was allowed”, sounding amused. You giggled at this comment, meeting his gaze. “Are you speaking from personal experience?” He chuckled “I already spent many centuries with him.. Believe me when I say that feeding Cassian is pricey.” Cassian, not able to speak while having mouth full, gave his friend a middle finger. During your conversation with Rhysand, you took another plate and placed another tart there, offering it to Rhysand. “If that is the case, I think you should try it before Cassian eats it.” You saw the hesitation in his eyes, that went from your face to the plate and back. You chuckled a little bit nervously and your smile fell instantly, when he shook his head. “No, thank you. I.. don't have time. Perhaps some other day. I have to go now.” And with that, he simply vanished into the darkness. 
Rhysand's sudden departure left you hurt and sad. Was something you said wrong? Was he not a fan of sweets? Was he allergic and you offended him because you didn't know? You blinked once, twice, before putting the plate on the kitchen counter. “That was.. weird.” Cassian spoke suddenly. You did not reply to him, thinking only about your conversation with Rhysand and blaming yourself for doing something wrong, although you didn't know what. But you were sure that your mother would be disappointed by this. You could almost hear her voice. “ Y/N?” You turned to Cassian. “You did nothing wrong, trust me. I don't really know what happened, but I promise you, he will come to his senses and apologize. Hopefully really soon.” You still weren't so sure about that and your mood wasn't so much better, but you offered him a smile, thankful for his kind words. “Here, take this plate too..”
You spent the previous day in the kitchen, cleaning, although Nuala and Cerridwenn insisted they would do it by themselves, you wanted to help. Cassian kept you company for the rest of the day, taking you to the gardens, telling you more stories about everyone in the inner circle, before taking you to your bedroom. He did manage to lighten your mood a little bit, so when you went to bed, no sad thoughts about Rhysand came, only sweet dreams.
The second time in a row, there was a present on your bedside table, when you woke up. Yesterday, you thought that Morrigan left there for you a beautiful necklace with a moonstone in it, you saw through the glass in one jewelry store which you based on on your walk. Morrigan was trying to persuade you to buy it, but it seemed so pricey that you decided not to. You already spent so much of Rhysands money.. But now you suspected that perhaps you were wrong by guessing it was her, who bought it. No, you knew you were wrong, since today you found a plate with different delicious looking sweets on your table, alongside with a note. 
“I know this apology isn't enough and that you also deserve an explanation, why did I leave yesterday so suddenly, but I can not give you that yet. I hope you understand and I promise you.. You did nothing wrong. - yours Rhys ” 
After reading that note from Rhysand and eating what he sent you, you felt a little bit better. You were not angry at him, rather at yourself, still not knowing what you did was frustrating. Nuala and Cerridwen were busy and since you couldn't find anyone else, you just wandered around a house, trying to find something to do. You were not in the mood to bake like yesterday, you did not have any work you could do. There was only you and your thoughts. About how your life changed, surprisingly to the better, about your new friends.. about Rhysand. You were thinking especially about him and your friends, Cassian and Morrigan. Did they report your conversation to him? After reading that note for the second time, you saw a similar formulation of words like Cassian used the previous day. It was weird. You were dying to know what that meant, but you were too shy and embarrassed to ask anyone. Another reason why you needed to find something to do. Otherwise, you would probably go crazy because of these thoughts that plague your mind. 
After another few minutes, you found a small library. At first, you hesitated a little bit, but since the doors were unlocked, you went inside. There were mainly books about the history of Prythian, courts, High lords of current and past time, books on wars and tactics, but in the small corner, you found a small shelf with maybe ten or twenty romance books. Your mother did not allow you to read them. The only ones you were allowed to read were about good behavior, what it takes to be a good wife and similar topics and after some time, when you slowly began realizing that true love will probably never be something you are going to have, you stopped begging her to let you read at least one of them, so you could see how it looks between man and women who love each other truly. But now, with your new freedom and with a new glimmer of hope inside your chest, you picked the first one, sat in the chair that was standing next to a window and began to read.
The time was passing rather quickly. You were almost in the middle of the story and not paying attention to your surroundings, when you heard someone unintentionally hitting the table and then cursing slightly. You turned quickly, shocked by this interruption, to find Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked worriedly, as he turned his attention to you. “Yeah, ehm.. Don't worry. I am fine.” You raised your eyebrow, not quite believing him, since he was Spymaster, known for being stealthy and composed.. Nothing like now.  That is when you realize he is holding something in his hands. Book. He sees where your eyes are and smiles slightly. “I guess there is no hiding anymore. I am.. returning this.” He says, coming to the shelf where you took the book and placing it on its right place. You giggle a little. “If it helps you to feel better, you are the last one I would suspect of reading romantic books. I guess you should never really judge the book by its cover.” He nods, sitting on the next free chair in front of you. “I think very few people would dare to even think that I like reading these. But sometimes..” He fell silent and you smiled knowingly. “It is nice to read about true love and dream that maybe someday it will also come to you.” 
It did not surprise you, when the next day when you woke up, you found a brand new book on your bedside table, alongside with a note. 
“I hope you will like this one, although I am not an expert in this field, it's apparently very popular. I would also like to take you to dinner tonight, of course only if you want to and will not be in too much exciting part of your book. - yours Rhys”
Of course you did say yes to his invitation. It would be rude if not and also against everything your mother taught you. And what is more important, you wanted to go. After all, he was your husband, you wanted to get to know him better. What did you even know about him? That he was Hugh lord, lived in Velaris, he loves his friends and is kind. And maybe does not like strawberry tarts, but that is everything You wanted to know more. What he liked, what he did not like, his hobbies.. Everything. Anything. Anything he was willing to share with you. 
Your mind was once again full of him. Not being able to concentrate and not sure what to even wear, you were more than happy to meet Morrigan at the breakfast. It was only the two of you, a perfect opportunity to ask her to help you prepare for tonight. She agreed, happy, that you asked her and was currently styling your hair. “Don't you think it is too much?” You asked hesitantly. She made you wear a purple dress, a color that matched your husband's eyes perfectly. And it also went really well with that necklace he gave you a couple of days ago. “Not at all, I think you look perfect. Rhys will not be able to take his eyes off you.” There was a slight hint of provocation in her voice, which made your cheeks turn bright red. “Anddd, I am done. You look stunning Y/N!” As you looked in the mirror, you started to believe her.
You were waiting in your room, talking with Morrigan, when you heard a knock on your door. Not wasting any time, you went to open them to relieve Rhys standing here, dressed in a suit that matched your dress and with a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands.”Hello, Y/N darling.” There was a smirk on his face, so significant for him. “Hello.” You answered, looking down at the flowers he handed to you. “For you. Their beauty is nothing compared to yours, but I still hope you will find them at least a little beautiful.” You blushed at his comment, starting to hate how easily he can affect you. “Thank you, they are really beautiful. Perfect.” You took them, smelling their sweet scent, before Morrian came closer and offered to put them in a vase, before turning to face Rhys with a grin on her face. “Make sure she is home before midnight.”
Still chuckling a little bit at Morrigan's last comment, you took Rhysand's hand he offered you and stepped outside your beautiful home into the night. It was perfect. The weather was amazing and the streets you walked through smelled of lemon, sea and mystery. “After everything you have done for me, especially for those gifts.. I think that I should be the one inviting you tonight.” You said, starting a quick conversation before you would get too nervous or better say aroused due to how close he was. You could feel his warmth and smell his undoubtedly expensive cologne. He chuckled slightly, “Oh my darling, don't you ever think about that. You deserve those things. You deserve everything you could possibly want and I will spend my life ensuring that, as I promised you at our wedding.” He reminded you and you shook your head, not understanding, how could anyone think of him as a cruel person. “You.. exaggerate. Not wanting to give up so easily, you decided to speak. “I will be honest.. Before we got married, I was worried. However, after you took me here and I had a chance to get to know you better and of course, your friends too.. I think.. I think I really like it here. You made me feel welcome and happy more than I was ever before in my life.” You said, looking at the ground. Maybe a little bit ashamed. After all, your mother said that no perfect woman would ever complain and although you didn't directly, you indicated it quite clearly. “So, what I wanted to tell you is that I am really grateful. For your gifts, for.. everything” You looked him in the eyes, smiling slightly. At first, he didn't say anything, there was a pity in his eyes and what you didn't see was that inside he was fuming and wanted to punish everyone in the Autumn court. But not to scare you, he simply took your hand and kissed it gently. “You are welcome, my darling.”
When you came to the restaurant, after a short walk through the city, which you enjoyed, you found the place completely empty, well except for people who worked here, of course. Giving Rhysand a questioning look, he answered immediately “I wanted us to have privacy.” He shrugged, as if it was nothing and you blinked at him. “Try to tell me ever again, that you do not exaggerate.” You mumbled to yourself quietly. 
You were full. After the appetizer, soup and main course, you felt like moving wasn't an option for you anymore. When the waiter asked, if you wanted a dessert, you looked over at Rhys. In your eyes, there was an obvious answer to this question - no. But he chuckled. “Yes please, bring us two pieces of your lemon and lavender cake.” Taking a sip of your wine, you sighed. “A new information for me.. You don't understand signals very well.” He simply leaned back on a chair with a smirk on his handsome face. “Oh, but I do. What I however can not do is leave this restaurant without you trying their best dessert. Everyone loves it.” You raised your eyebrow. “You do too?” He nodded, now leaning a little bit closer to you. “About that day when I.. left so suddenly.” He paused, unsure what to say, but you didn't pressure and gave him time. “It is okay, if you don't want to share it with me. I understand.” There was a hesitant smile on your face and in your mind, you were screaming the opposite words that left your mouth. He shook his head. “I do. I want to share it with you, but.. I think that for a while it is better not to. You are still new here and are only settling in your new home. I don't want to overwhelm you.” You nodded, trying to be as understanding as possible, before the waiter came and handed you your piece of cake.
“Are you full?” Rhys asked for about a second time since you left the restaurant and you just laughed. “Yes, I am full, don't worry.“ You assured him, squeezing his hand a little bit. You had a great time with him and it was sad that your night was coming to an end. During this time, you also became more relaxed around him. Someone who wouldn't know you and saw you walking with him in the streets right now, wouldn't probably guess the situation you were in. It seemed real. This.. something, what became growing between you. “I'm just making sure.” He shrugged, at the same time as you thought something about mother hen. “Do you want to go flying?” He asked suddenly, catching you off guard. “Flying?” You asked. He smiled and within seconds, large wings appeared on his back. You gasped in astonishment. “They are beautiful..” Your voice was low. Wanting to feel them underneath your fingers, you reached out to them, but he stopped you. Gently taking your hand in his bigger one. “Ehm.. They are quite sensitive.” He tried to explain. “Oh, I am sorry, I didn't want to hurt you!” Your eyes widened, apologizing. “No, you wouldn't hurt me. It is only when something touches Illyrian wings.. That person can become aroused.” At this moment, you wanted to sink into the ground more than ever before. 
Although you were embarrassed, you still agreed to fly, wanting to see the city from above. As your husband took you in his arms, your heart started beating faster than usual.  You wanted to sink into his touch. Smell his perfume, do something you never did before. You weren't sure what it was. This feeling was new for you. But you were enjoying it. “Hold on tight.” Rhys said, moments before he finally took you in the sky. His sudden movement makes you close your eyes, but his movement becomes steady, you open them, taking in the beauty of the city below. It was perfect. This night, Rhysand. Everything. This night was everything. 
You spent the next few days with your husband. From that night he took you to dinner, you found yourself yearning for his company. At first, you were a little hesitant, not wanting to disturb him with your presence. After all, he was High lord with responsibilities. But he seemed to enjoy your company as much as you did his, so when he one day took you to his office, there was a new set of comfortable sofa and armchair, next to a window. Perfect place for reading you began to enjoy. From that day, you went to his after breakfast regularly. Sometimes you two were talking, other days on the other hand, you spent this time in a comfortable silence. Eating lunch together also became some sort of habit of yours. Slightly different were evenings. You once again went shopping with Morrigan, who was very curious about your relationship with her cousin. Sometimes you spend your evenings with Cassian or the whole Inner circle, sitting, talking and drinking Rhysands expensive old wine, while sitting close to him. This was also your plan for this evening, until Morrigan decided that it is time for you to visit Rita's. 
Since Morrigan did a really good job by picking your dress for your dinner date with Rhys, you decided to trust her also this time, but seeing what she prepared for you to wear, you began asking her sanity. This dress were.. interesting. They were black and like the night sky they sparkled. As if there were tiny little stars. And they also were very short, which was new for you. Although you did started dressing differently than in the Autumn court, you even tried pants and really liked them, but.. The only thing that was calming you down was that she was wearing a dress of similar length, only in red and with a deeper neckline. “If you were not Rhys's wife, I can guarantee you Y/N, that I would do anything to take you home with me tonight.” You blushed and laughed and the same time. “I mean it, you look sexy! Where were you hiding that ass, girl?” You shook your head. “Morrigan, tell me the truth. Are you drunk already?” You raised your eyebrow at her and she grinned in response. “Me? Drunk? Always.”
The plan was to get ready with Morr and meet guys and Amren at Rita's. You were shocked that Amren even agreed on going. Although you were in Velaris a couple of weeks already, you barely spoke to her. But Morrigan assured you, that is how Amren simply is and so you never questioned it again. When you arrived, the place was full. There was a body on body, people were dancing, drinking and singing, alongside with a singer on a little stage. If you were not holding Morrigan's hand for your dear life, you would probably get lost and never be found again. Luckily, you managed to find the others rather quickly. They were sitting at the table in the corner, not so far away from the dance floor, already with some drinks. “Look who finally decided to show up.” Cassian greeted you with a sneering remark on which Morrigan replied by giving him a middle finger, which was normal for them, as you found out some time ago. “Oh shut up, Cass. Maybe you should sometimes be late and at least try to take care of your appearance.” You began ignoring these two, since their bickering would probably last all night. You rather said hello to the other three people who were sitting here, Amren, Azriel and lastly Rhysand. You felt his eyes on you from the second you showed up here and you knew that you would be staring at him all night probably too. He was wearing black. The buttons of his shirt were open, so you could see part of his muscular chest. “Hello darling, you look ravishing.” He smirked at you hungrily.
You were having your third drink. Normally you would take one, beautiful you were to survive this night, you needed more. It was just too much. People were almost having sex right on the floor, music was so sensual and Rhys.. His normal gentleman's behavior probably stayed at home today. His large warm hand was on your exposed thigh, striking it gently, each time going a little bit more up. As the time passed by, Morrigan went dancing with some girl she met at the bar, when she was going for her second glass of wine. Cassian disappeared to the dance floor and Amren was having a conversation with Azriel. That left you and Rhysand practically alone, not that you were complaining. You were only still rather shy for this. The band started playing some slow music, giving the dancers an opportunity to slow down their rhythm and enjoy each other's touches more intensely. That is when Rhysand leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Would you like to dance?” The way his breath brushed lightly against your neck gave you goosebumps, but you still nodded slowly.
When you took Rhysand's hand, he led you on a dance floor. Some people around you probably recognized him, since they tried to give you more space, but there still were many people around you, not that you were paying them any attention. No. You had eyes for only one person and that person was your husband, who was holding you close. His arms were around your waist as you moved slowly on the floor, grinding at each other like fools. If you would look back on your table, you would be able to see that both Cassian and Morrigan returned and all of your new friends were currently toasting, pleased with how things had turned out between the two of you, perhaps thanks to their efforts. 
Not being able to hold back anymore, you looked from Rhysand's eyes on his lips, biting yours. It was a simple invitation for him. The one he gladly accepted, as he firstly gently stroked your lip with his thumb, before slowly leaning to you, giving you time to change your mind, before he finally brought your lips together in a slow, long wanted kiss. It lasted maybe a couple of seconds, but it was enough for the mating bond to snap for you. Like a golden thread it led straight to Rhysand and when you looked him surprised in the eyes, you knew, you felt, that this wasn't something new for him. 
As the first hint of hurt and sadness appeared in your eyes, the sudden wave of darkness surrounded you and carried the two of you home. The first thing you did was to take a step back, trying to get away from him. “Why? Why didn't you tell me this before?” He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I didn't want to overwhelm you or scare you. I thought it was better to not tell you anything for some time. “ He started, not so good. “How long did you know?” You asked quietly, wanting to know something more before deciding what to say to him. “A little bit more than. Almost two years.” You gasped. Hurt by him sat on the chair, refusing to look at him. “All my life, someone.. Someone else always decided what was good for me. What I should know, what not. When we were getting married, I thought that.. It will be the same with you, but during these last weeks you were.. So kind to me that I really started believing I can trust you, but now? I.. I don't know. You knew you were my mate for so long and you did not tell me? Why? What did I do to offend you so much? Am I not good enough?” He began shaking his head rapidly, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “No, no that's not it. You are perfect, believe me. You are everything I ever wanted, what I dreamed of.” Releasing breath, with teary eyes, you looked at him. “Then tell me.. How exactly did you find out, so you decided it was better for me to not know?” 
The room was silenced, as Rhys poured himself a drink. He offered you one, but you refused it. You already had enough today and you wanted to concentrate on what is he saying.  He took a deep breath before beginning. “I was in the Autumn court, trying to sort out some problems Beron had at that time. He held a ball, where I was invited, maybe you remember it.” You nodded, only for confirmation that you did. “The ball was just beginning, when I saw you enter with your parents by your side. I remember our eyes met, only for a brief moment, but in that moment, the bond snapped for me, but clearly not for you.. That same night I began to plan. I asked Azriel if he could find out as many information about you and your family as he could and in the morning, he already handed me a whole file about you. I learned your name and about your situation. Considering how many people in Autumn court behave, for me it was not surprising that your parents were not so.. good people. You were so young, you are still young and your father was already trying to find a partner for you, so he could marry you off for his gain. I knew that I could not let that happen. Not only because of my personal interest, but because most males in Autumn court abuse their partners and see their wifes only as breeding mare.” There was a disgust in his voice. “So I immediately came to Beron and proposed the idea of marriage between our two courts. Trying to win him on my side, I said I wanted to fix how last time something like this was about to happen but it did not, affected relationship between our courts. I told him he could even pick a list of some suitable girls, hoping you would be there, since Beron was close to your father. Well he agreed and also luckily for me, included you on that list. I tried to not be too eager to marry you, because I did not want to cause any suspicion. So I waited a few weeks before choosing. Then some paper work was needed and it took time before the wedding planning could finally began. I wanted nothing more than to go to your house and just took you with me to get you out of that place, but I was worried that I would put you in danger. Beron is awful, I believe I don't have to explain it to you.That is also why I didn't tell you before. Why didn't I engage in anything.” You nodded, understanding what he did and you were thankful to him, but it still hurt a little. “But why didn't you tell me anything after I came here?” You dared to ask. He swallowed nervously. “You were so young and you were already going through a lot. I knew you were probably scared of me, scared of this place at first. Maybe my decision wasn't so right as I thought it was, but please believe me that I did it with only the best intentions.” 
You knew Rhysand probably really didn't mean to do anything bad by his decisions, but you still had a right to be hurt and disappointed. It's been two days since the revelation and you spent them in your room. Nuala and Cerridwen brought you each food. Morrigan, Cassian and Azriel also visited you, telling you that they understand why you are angry with Rhysand. You also found out that although you thought otherwise, they didn't know about the bond. They suspected it, yes, but he didn't tell them anything. They found out after you didn't show up at breakfast the day after you went together to Rita's. They of course saw you disappear with Rhys, but thought it was for other purposes. You thanked them for their words of support and their visits and also begged them not to tell Rhysand anything, which they promised. You deep inside knew that you would forgive him and move on. He was not only your mate, but also your husband. Husband you began to love, which you realized after your argument. 
Your love for him is also one of the factors that drove you mad. You stopped believing that love existed. You felt like a fool that you, after everything that you have been taught, after what you saw, after everything you have been through.. You did in fact fell in love. You were so confused, about your feelings, what you thought you should feel, what happened.. That you welcomed knocking on your door gratefully. 
You would never suspect that behind the door, there would be Amren standing, asking if she could come inside to talk to you. You of course led her, closing the door behind her, gesturing on chairs where she can sit, while you returned to your soft bed. “Girl, I am probably not the person to tell you this, but I think you need to pull yourself together.” You would lie if you would say that her words did not shock you a little bit. She wasn't even trying to chat a little before dropping this on you. “I know and understand that you are hurt by what Rhys did, he is an idiot sometimes, but be honest with yourself. By this, you are only punishing both of you and why?” She shook her head. “I have been alive for.. a couple of thousands years. I saw many people get together and then break up. But I do not think this is what either of you want, am I right?” You sighed and nodded. You will not leave Rhysand because of this. You knew that, however you weren't sure what she was trying to tell you by this. “So.. If that is not the case, why are you doing this? Why waste time by being angry at each other.I think you both went through a lot to be this stupid.” And in that moment, you understood. 
Not wasting any time, you quickly hugged Amren and before she could even react, you started running to the kitchen. She was right after all. Your life wasn't easy, so why are you making yourself miserable even more? Rhys made a mistake, but that happens. But what you realized is that you love him enough to forgive him. You loved him. That warm feeling spreads throughout your whole body. And thanks to that, it all seemed so simple. 
At first, you simply wanted to grab something quick and go straight to Rhysand's office, but when you saw strawberries lying on the kitchen counter, you couldn't help yourself. Knowing the receipt by your heart paid off, when you were finishing the first strawberry tart, placing it on the plate and storming out of the kitchen with it, completely ignoring unfinished ones. You were sure Cassian would gladly eat them even now. You rushed to your room, to freshen up yourself and to change, before, with a plate in your hand, finally knock on your husband's office. “Come in.” 
Before you opened the massive doors, you took a deep breath. Although you were absolutely sure about this, like anything before in your life, you were also still nervous. When you came in, you saw Rhys sitting behind the table, which was full of papers. To be honest, he looked like he didn't get too much sleep and that made your heart hurt. He looked up, meeting your eyes. His face lit up a little bit, in a small hope, when he saw what you were carrying in your hands. He watched your steps, before you were finally standing right in front of him, placing the plate on his table. “I made this, just for you.” You announced, biting your lip. “Are you.. sure?” His voice was hesitant. It was clear he wanted nothing more than to devour that tart and then you, but even now he was giving you a chance to change your mind. You walked around the table, he turned himself in his chair to face you, which you took as an opportunity to sit on his lap. His hand instinctively found your hip, holding you close so you wouldn't fall down, as you took the spoon, scooped up a little part of that tart and brought it to his lips. After he looked into your eyes once again, he ate the food you offered him, groaning at its taste. That sound was so beautiful, so sinful.. It made you thank Morrigan that on your first shopping spree together, she took you in that one certain shop, where you bought matching sexy underwear you were currently hiding under your dress.
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dvthomir · 5 months ago
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Synopsis; you’ve always been fascinated by dragons, admiring them from afar but never dared to get close until your friend, Rhaenyra decided to change that.
Pairing; Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader
This is so self indulgent but Milly’s Rhaenyra is so dear to me <3
Ever since you could remember, you had a fascination for dragons, but in all honesty, how could you not? They were majestic creatures, beautiful and terrifying by their sizes. You had heard and read many tales about them, the battles they fought and won along with their riders, the riderless dragons and some old myths.
One of your favorite pastimes was watching the dragons fly, it didn’t exactly occur everyday but whenever you had the opportunity to watch them in the sky, you enjoyed it. Never really daring to come closer to the dragonpit, you hadn’t gotten near a dragon yet, and it wasn’t something you minded, as beautiful they were, they were equally terrifying.
It was amusing really, how your friend Rhaenyra, would tell you about her flights atop her dragon, Syrax. The way she talked about her dragon, you would never think she was this impressively big and tough creature which could kill you in the blink of an eye if willing to.
But honestly, the most amusing part about all this was that you, who never dared to approach the dragons you saw and were fascinated by, had befriended a Targaryen, whose House was represented by dragons and were known to ride them.
Rhaenyra was amused by your fear of dragons and had teased you about it many times, but never to make fun of you- she understood why people feared dragons when they weren’t born or grew up around them. The Princess tried a couple of times to bring you to the dragonpit, she tried to convince you, even bribe you but she would never force you.
She would love to give you a ride on her dragon’s back, she wanted to share this part of her with you but would wait until you would be ready to meet Syrax. Deep down, she was convinced that one day, you two would fly above the Sea together.
Sitting in your favorite spot, you were safely admiring from afar the Dragonpit, as you had gotten here later than usual, you wondered if Rhaenyra had already left with her dragon. Watching her pet Syrax before flying away was what you enjoyed watching the most, the Princess’ bond with her dragon was beautiful.
In a way, they were similar and maybe, that was why their bond seemed to be so special- both of them were majestic and tough, while also being kind, as kind as a dragon could get obviously. You hadn’t gotten to hear Rhaenyra speaks Valyrian many times, but the few times you did, you had been subjugated, the language you didn’t understand rolled off her tongue so smoothly, you could’ve listened to her speak this foreign language for the whole day.
“ What could possibly make my dear friend smile?” questioned a voice- the voice you loved to hear the most as she sat down next to you.
“ My apologies Princess, I was lost in my thoughts.”
Rhaenyra scrunched up her nose, hearing her title, you always liked to use her title here and there- it suited her so well, “ you know I like Nyra better when I’m with you.”
“ I know, but Princess suits you so well, I’m enjoying using it while I can, one day you’ll be Queen Rhaenyra.”
“ If that was to happen, I’d still be Nyra to you.”
You smiled fondly, hearing that no matter her title or position in the hierarchy, your relationship wouldn’t change, “ and I’d always be by your side.”
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, it was something you deeply enjoyed with Rhaenyra- you didn’t always have to talk to enjoy each other company.
Her hand gently rested on top of yours, earning your attention as you raised a brow at her sudden gesture- not that you minded, the Princess gave you a sheepish smile, “ would you do me the honor to visit Syrax with me today?”
“ You know what my answer to this is already.”
“ Please? For your Princess?”
It was always hard to deny her request when it came to accompany her to the dragonpit, you knew how much it would mean to her but your fear always took over you and you just couldn’t agree to do such, “ do you wish to see me make a fool out of myself? I would be terrified this near to Syrax, or any dragon for that matter.”
“ Nonsense! You would never make a fool of yourself. Syrax is a good girl, she will like you.”
“ And if she does not?”
“ She will. And even if she did not, she would never harm you. She knows I care deeply for you.”
Your heart swelled upon hearing these words, you never doubted that Rhaenyra cared about you, but hearing the affirmation was pleasant nonetheless. She meant more than the Seven Kingdoms to you and you hoped she was aware of it.
As you remained quiet for a little bit, Rhaenyra took it as a silent agreement, that you finally gave in- which wasn’t really the case, but seeing how the Princess’ face lit up as she bounced off the place she was sitting next to you, you didn’t have the heart to tell her she misunderstood.
And there you were, minutes later, walking in the dragonpit, the very place you swore to never walk into- but seeing how excited she was for you to finally meet Syrax, it was endearing and giving you enough bravery to not cower away at the very last moment.
“ Do not hesitate to tell me if you are too scared, the last thing I’d want is for you to keep a bad memory from this meeting.”
You were already scared and apprehending meeting the dragon, so much that you knew words would fail you if you attempted to talk- all you could offer was a thankful nod to your friend, appreciating that she was willing to let you back out if it was your wish, at any moment.
As Rhaenyra called out for Syrax, your heart was pounding in your chest and breathing became harder for you- the dragon was huge, bigger than you imagined when you’d see her from afar but she was also way prettier than what you expected. Syrax didn’t show any sign of distrust as she came closer as Rhaenyra was by your side.
“ Do you trust me, my dear?”
It was such a simple question, and you couldn’t even begin to think if you trusted her- it was impossible to imagine not trusting Rhaenyra. If you hadn’t been so intimidated by the dragon standing in front of your very eyes, maybe you would’ve realized she didn’t ask this randomly, “ of course I do, with my life.”
Rhaenyra’s hand found yours, the same way it did when you were both sitting at the place you enjoyed to watch the dragons from. You didn’t exactly register your friend’s intention yet, believing it was just to reassure you.
“ Rytsas, Syrax. Bisa iksos Y/N, issa jorrãelagon raqiros, ziry iksos zūgagon yn jãhor gaomagon daor ōdrikagon.”
Not understanding a single word Rhaenyra had just said, you were left mesmerized by the way she so gently spoke to the dragon whom huffed as if to reply to her rider. However, you could kind of imagine what your friend said to Syrax when the Princess smiled warmly at you and placed your hand against Syrax’ yellow scales.
It was terrifying really, you froze right there, not sure what you should do or not do, but as terrified as you were, you were also marveled by the dragon- she didn’t seem to dislike your touch or even mind it, allowing your hand to stay on her. You dared to do something you never thought off and slowly moved your hand against her scales, essentially petting the creature.
“ She’s beautiful.”
A smile spread across Rhaenyra’s face as she heard your statement, when you looked at her, her eyes were shining bright with happiness, “ she is, indeed!”
“ What did you tell her?” you couldn’t help your curiosity, you wished you could understand High Valyrian to share the language with the Princess and speak it with her freely.
“ I told Syrax your name and that you were scared but meant no harm.”
It made sense this was what she told her dragon, in a way, this had been a sort of presentation, to know you weren’t a threat. You nodded to your friend’s explanation, you were still amazed to be so close to a dragon, albeit not as scared as you had been right before meeting Syrax.
“ Would you perhaps like to fly with me?”
The Princess’ question was just as hopeful as her eyes were as she asked this, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say no to her, “ promise me we will not fly too high?”
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idyllic-ghost · 5 months ago
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title: Stay in Character! pairing: vernon x gn!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, warnings: reader has a sister with a kid, mentions of childbirth, mentions of stress, anxiety over moving in with a partner synopsis: You're on the verge of panicking - you still have moving boxes to pack and move into your boyfriend's apartment, but you can't leave the fact that your sister is giving birth to her second child while you're babysitting her first. However, your stress slowly dissipates when you walk into your cluttered kitchen and see your boyfriend playing pretend with your niece. wordcount: 5.9k
rating: PG 15
a/n: i keep wanting to write soft fluffy vernon blurbs idk what's happening
Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.
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The bumbling sounds from your tiny kitchen caught your attention as soon as you got out of the phone call with your sister's husband. Once one anxious thought was gone, another one appeared out of the blue - what were they doing in there? They weren't messing with the boxes, were they? You took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough for you to have an interaction without yelling.
Rolling up your sleeves, you walked into your kitchen to deal with the next situation. The walls were covered with stacked boxes, so you almost couldn't see the old wallpaper. The noises were coming from your kitchen table, which still wasn't packed up. Vernon was sitting at the table with your niece, and the two of them had put out a paper plate with whatever snacks they could find, three glasses, and a bottle of water.
Your shoulders relaxed as you watched the two of them play pretend. They had clearly been trying to help you pack but had gotten distracted by your miscellaneous items. Vernon was wearing one of your scarves on his head and an old pair of sunglasses you had forgotten about - your niece wearing a matching pair. However, as soon as he saw you come in, he took off the glasses and sent you a gentle smile.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
It was all so ridiculous. Your sister was in the middle of an unexpectedly early childbirth, in the middle of you getting ready to move into your boyfriend's apartment, and here he was: playing dress-up with your niece. In some weird way, it was just what you needed - how Vernon could know you had no idea.
"She's fine," you finally replied with a tired smile. "It was a little bit of a surprise, but everything seems to be okay... what are the two of you doing?"
"We're just-"
"Stay in character!" your niece complained.
Vernon mouthed "Sorry," before putting the sunglasses back on and turning back to your niece. With his usual, matter-of-fact voice, he asked her what she thought about the weather. Your niece picked up her glass and took a sip of the water, making an exaggerated "ahh" as she put it back down.
"Too much rain," she responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand.
You could see Vernon have to restrain himself from laughing, his hand flying up to cover his smile. After clearing his throat, he nodded in agreement. You should be packing up the last of your stuff, the moving truck will arrive soon, and you should probably text your sister's husband again to ask him to send you updates. But right now, you could feel how tired you were in your bones. So, you sat down on the third chair and let Vernon pour you a glass of water. Then, he picked up the paper plate and held it out to you.
"Gummy worm?" he asked.
"How old are those?" You chuckled as you inspected the candies on the plate.
"I have no idea," he admitted. "But the cookies are from last week, I think."
You took a cookie and silently thanked him. Vernon and your niece continued their conversation about rain, which took a sharp turn when Vernon mentioned thunder - which was apparently very controversial in your niece's eyes. Any anxious feelings you had over moving in with Vernon were slowly disappearing. For a moment, you could truly let go of everything as Vernon kept your niece busy - and if he acted like this in a moment of crisis, maybe the two of you would do well living together.
"Bathroom break!" your niece suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands together once to signal that the scene was over.
She hopped off her chair and walked away to your small bathroom. You had already taken all of the boxes out of there, so you knew that she would be okay on her own.
"She's a little director," Vernon said.
"She is," you murmured.
He gave you a long look, a silent "Are you really okay?" to which you responded with a nod. Vernon moved his chair closer to yours, wrapping his arms around you and slowly patting your head.
"You're doing good, babe," he muttered against the top of your head.
"Thank you."
"I'll go back to packing up and you could sit with her for a bit," he suggested. "Or I could do anything else you need."
"Packing sounds good," you hummed. "I just need to make sure she's not feeling neglected or anything, you know? My sister was worried."
Vernon let go of you and grabbed your hand to give it a comforting squeeze. He was still wearing the scarf and the sunglasses, and you could no longer keep a straight face. You snort and turn away from him, trying to shield yourself from breaking out into even more laughter.
"What?" he asked and tried to make you look at him again. "Am I not pretty?"
After taking a deep breath, you look back at him with a contained grin. Vernon cocks his head at you, clearly aware of the way he looks now but also determined to keep you smiling. Your niece eventually came back from the bathroom and climbed back onto her chair. The two of you looked at her expectantly as she cleared her throat.
"Bathroom break's over!" she chimed.
"Honey," you said carefully. "Is it okay if Vernon goes away to pack some more stuff and I stay here with you?"
Your niece glanced back and forth between the two of you before extending her hand to Vernon. He carefully removed his scarf and glasses and placed them into her small, outstretched palm.
"You've been replaced!" your niece exclaimed dramatically as she handed you the items. "I'll give you the roll as long as you stay in character!"
As you and Vernon erupted into laughter, your niece continued to mimic the voice of a director before she eventually joined you in your mirth. Everything that could go wrong today, did go wrong - yet, it felt bearable with Vernon by your side. Observing his banter with your niece might have seemed like a man simply engaging in make-believe with his partner's niece others, but to you, it was a deeply serene and comforting scene. You knew with certainty that your future was in reliable hands.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
feedback is always appreciated!♡
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bandgie · 6 months ago
Text
In Pixie Dust We Trust
synopsis: You're content with being Chris's best friend for all eternity. It doesn't matter how big your heart is, you're small where it matters most. That's what you think at least.
warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, microphilia (reader is 7-10in/17-25cm), pussy eating, boobie sucking, reader used as a fleshlight (non-penetrative), cum eating (m!), jerking off, little bit of jealously in the beginning, does this count as monsterfucking? idk
notes: man, I did like 3 different rough drafts on this and said fuck it. ALSO?? I guess grammarly has limited help options now? fucking assholes
3.5k words
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It would be impossible for Chris to hear you cheering for him amongst the dozens of shouting people, but you scream anyway.
“Go Chris!” You cup your hands around your mouth for extra volume, “Go, go, go!”
Mythics alike cheer for their representative species. Sirens, vampryes, lycans, and many more creatures roar for a winner. Despite the overwhelming number of Mythics, humans fill up a good portion of the audience to spur on Chris. He’s the only mortal in the swim meet, one of the rare humans to be able to compete against creatures like yourself. 
Truthfully, you’re not too aware of the rules when it comes to swimming. Something about a certain amount of meters, certain strokes, and when you’re supposed to come up for air. The explanations went right over your head when Chris told them to you, but that doesn’t stop you from screaming your little lungs out. 
“Jeez,” Felix rubs his ear. “Who would’ve thought a little pixie like you could scream so loud.” 
You give him an apologetic smile. “Sorry!” You decide it’s better to find a better sitting spot. Felix’s shoulder is always your go-to seat, but you don’t want to burst his eardrums from your screams. Your wings flutter rapidly, raising you high until you plop on his blonde hair. 
At least you didn’t have to pay for a seat. Being the mere size of a hand, you can easily sit on someone instead. 
You lean to one side of Felix’s head, “This better?” He nods, making your grip on his hair so you don’t slip off. “Yeah. You can cheer for your human boyfriend all you want now.” Felix’s head lightly shakes as he laughs. A sheep shade of crimson creeps up your neck and you yank on his hair. “Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!” 
You only feel a little bad when Felix whines. He reaches his hand to fight you with the wiggle of his fingers that you slap away while giggling. “Ouch! That hurt.” 
“Whatever,” you slap the final finger away. “You deserved it.” Felix scoffs, rolling his eyes though you can’t see. “For what? Saying the truth? I’m a nymph, baby. You can’t hide those feelings from me.”
Now it’s you who rolls their eyes. As much as you would want to argue with Felix, he’s right. You may have the best friend title when it comes to Chris, but you want Chris in a way you know you shouldn't. You want to feel him hold you, have his lips pepper kisses all over your magical body until you can’t breathe. He doesn’t know how much you yearn for him when you sit on his shoulder, your wings bashfully fluttering when he talks low just for you to hear. 
It doesn’t do any good for you to think like that. It’s better to blink those thoughts away and keep cheering, pretending you’re perfectly fine with being Chris’s tiny best friend. 
But pretending is never easy for a pixie. Having such a small body does nothing to lessen the emotions you feel. Felix is doing everything he can to keep you from flying away and sobbing your heart out. When you two went looking for Chris to congratulate him on placing in the top three, neither of you expected the many female Mythics and humans to praise him. 
“Hey! He’s just feeling excited from the race, he’s just super hyped right now.” Felix laughs nervously. “It’s no biggie. They’re just all congratulating him.”
You wish that were true or that you believed it. Instead, you’re frozen at the sight of Chris smiling from whatever they’resaying. One of them goes as far as to whisper in his ear, earning a deep blush from his wet face. Felix panics more. “She just- She said- oh damn.”
It shouldn’t bother you. If anything, you should be happy that Chris is finally getting the attention he deserves. He deserves people supporting him. Someone who can give him a happy, normal-sized relationship even if they aren’thuman. Not a pixie who is barely bigger than the size of his hand. 
You blink your tears away, ignoring the ugly lump in your throat as you dejectedly fly next to Felix’s face. “It’s fine. Let’sjust go.” Felix whips his head to you, eyes wide with sincerity. “No! Pixie, we came out here for him. We can at least say hi then leave right after.” 
There’s a twinge of hope in his eyes. Felix has been rooting for you since you told him about your unrequited love. Although you would roll your eyes at his support most of the time, it did boost some confidence in you. Now you realize it was all foolish. A stupid dream you should have kept sleeping. 
You shake your head, “I can’t face him, Lix. Not when every girl in this damn city is trying to make him their mate. It’snot like he’d notice me leaving anyway.”
“You’re leaving?” Chris’s voice makes you and Felix jump. His hair is flat against his head from the diving cap he was wearing. It drips with water, leaking down his beautiful face to his naked torso. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
It’s only for a brief moment that you’re stunned. You weren’t prepared to see him so quickly. “Y-”
“No,” Felix quickly interrupts you. “She meant when is everyone else gonna leave. It’s so stuffed in here.” Felix looks at you wide-eyed as if to say don’t say anything before looking at Chris. “But dude! Congratulations!”
Chris’s signature dimple appears on his face. He wraps an arm around the nymph’s shoulder and brings him in for a hug.“I totally thought I was gonna get last. Those sirens are fucking fast.”
The embrace doesn’t last too long, not when Chris is eager to hear you praise him.
“Yeah,” you nod. “It was really impressive. I’m so proud of you!” It’s hard for you to do your normal joyful screaming, not when the bashful look he gave the mythic girl still lingers in your mind. You try to wipe the memory from your mind to focus on the mortal winner standing before you. The half-naked mortal winner that is.
“Yeah?” Chris lightens up at your words. His shining eyes warm your heart and your jealousy suddenly feels silly. “Fuck yeah! I knew you were gonna at least place in the top 5. But top 3? That’s Olympic shit right there.”
The flush on Chris’s face says it all. He rubs the back of his neck and giggles, a small squeak emitting from the back of his throat. “I would say thaaat.”
Felix laughs at the two of you, patting Chris on the shoulder. “I saw this Korean restaurant nearby - it looks super good. Minho told me that the chefs are all human. We should go before it gets packed!” The three of you look amongst each other and nod, humming about how hungry Chris must be.
“You can save a spot for us, Felix,” Chris smiles at him. “We’ll be there soon.”
You and Chris wave Felix goodbye. You wait until he’s out of earshot before you ask Chris, “Are we gonna meet up with him later?”
Chris smiles ear to ear. “We are. I was really hoping you’d come back to my place for a surprise.” Excited is the best word to describe him right now. His eyes shine with what you think is mischievousness. You can’t help the butterflies in your stomach. You smile at him back, “Now? Dressed like that?”
“Oh shit.” Chris suddenly becomes aware of his nude attire, save for the tight speedo. “Let me change first, then we’ll to mine.”
-
The naughty look on his face wasn’t for nothing. Chris didn’t necessarily plan to have you like this; nude and whimpering, but he isn’t complaining either. His intentions were pure, really. He had set up his apartment all sweet, miniature roses that could easily fit in your palms as he asked you to be his lover. 
You thought of everything wrong at first. How strange it might look for your dainty self to be involved with a human. For him to practically live in the waters while you stay in the sky. Different, too different to work you said. You couldn’t help but think of all the other Mythics flocking to him; ones that he could benefit from and most importantly, ones that he can properly love.
Yet, all your worries were washed away in his eyes, full of love and compassion. He would love you because you’re you, no matter what size.
Now you’re thinking there won’t be enough time to meet Felix at that restaurant he’s been revving about when Chris’stongue ravages your body. Kissing him felt weird enough, your lips barely able to lock with his bottom one. But having him lick and suck on every part of your body easily took the cake. 
Chris is holding you gently in his palm, your wings tightly tucked into your back so he doesn’t accidentally get them wet. The tip of his tongue dips down into your cunt before it swipes up to your breasts. You can tell he’s trying to be romantic about it, but there’s nothing soft in the way he suckles on your tits, how his saliva drips down the curve of your mounds onto his palm.
“Shit,” you moan when Chris finds your sweet, tiny pussy again. “You’re getting me so wet.” In response, Chris pulls away. You whine at the loss of contact. Your body shivers in his hold from the lack of his hot mouth. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” But he doesn't look apologetic at all. Not when he’s looking at you as if he might take a bite. Not when he licks his lips at the sight of your body spread out in his palm, twitching and soaking. 
You reach a small hand up and grab the tip of his nose, earning a giggle from his pretty lips. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” you push yourself up with an elbow to nuzzle against his face. “I like it.”
“Yeah?” the tips of his ears burn redder. “I like it too.”
The two of you share a laugh before you sprawl yourself back in his hold, opening your legs so his large tongue touches you where you need him most. Chris obediently nuzzles his tongue onto your cunt, flicking it upwards. Your hips chase the feeling, arching and twisting until he has to restrain you.
“Nooo,” you gently whine when he uses his fingers to pin your hands above your head. “Wanna feel it.”
Chris smiles, directing you to flatten your feet, spread your thighs, and arch until your back is completely lifted from his palm. It’s a weird position, but you wiggle in excitement when he leans his head down. “You will, baby,” he reassures.“Just gotta listen to me for a little, okay?”
You nod, forcing yourself still when you feel the familiar muscle on your core. It’s nearly similar to when you had the freedom to move, but there’s an extra layer of pleasure from being held back. For his tongue lick up and down, reaching up high to your stomach down to your ass. Chris doesn’t have to add much pressure, not when his tongue is half the size of your entire self.
The first taste of your orgasm builds when he swipes his tongue side to side. It moves your vulva perfectly, not focusing so much on your sensitive nub. Your hands grip his fingertips and you moan. “Channie…i’mma cum.”
He hums against your body, acknowledging your impending orgasm. Chris is too busy trying to get you on his taste buds. It’s more of a hint than a flavor of your pussy. If only Chris could drown in it. To feel these small thighs wrap around his head and yank him closer until all he can sense is you. But having your boobs and pussy in his mouth nearly at the same time is a huge win for him regardless. 
Your walls clench, a clear sign that you only have mere seconds before you cum. Maybe you could ask Chris to put justthe tip of his pinky finger in. It would stretch you so much, so good. If you can’t take his cock, you’ll take the next best thing. 
“In,” you mewl. “Want it in me.” 
Chris raises an eyebrow at you, clearly confused by what you mean. He can’t put anything in you, he doesn’t even want to think about it. He shakes his head with your pussy in his mouth, back to focusing on the task at hand.
“Channie!” You nearly scream his name. “Please! I’ve been good. I’ve been so good! Just the tip of your finger and-”
He sucks hard, making your entire body move from the suction. You wail, digging the back of your head further into his palm. He sucks and licks, obviously trying to get your mind off of being filled and instead finishing on his tongue. It works because all you can think about is flooding Chris’s mouth with your juices. You think about how good it’s going to feel to have his big tongue on you, licking you up.
You dig your nails into his fingers and tense. Chris places the tip of his tongue perfectly on your clit and you finally cum. 
He holds you while you shake. Chris can feel the trembling of your body, he can taste the essence of your orgasm, and he can hear your pretty little moans as you tip over. He can’t help but giggle at how your little hips roughly rock against his tongue. Deciding to give you a different sensation, Chris puts his tongue back in his mouth and puckers his lips instead. The plushness is the best way to ride out your high, gentle and soft.
You collapse in his hands when you come down. You can only whimper when he carefully nuzzles your body against his face affectionately. Chris peppers kisses on your body, from the top of your head to the soaked place between your thighs. It helps get you refocused by grounding yourself from his touch. You return his kisses, placing your hands on either side of his cheek and feeling his mouth against yours.
It feels like he’s trying to swallow you or maybe not trying to. You can’t really tell, but you don’t really mind. All you care about is how he whimpers against your lips, making you concerned about his state. 
You pull from his lips and adjust in his hands until you’re sitting. “It hurts. Doesn't it, Channie?” You don’t need to specify what you’re talking about. Not when you can see the need in his eyes, the pout in his lips. Chris nods, almost ashamed. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “I dunno what to do about it.”
He looks so dejected, so lost. Your wings untuck from your back and flutter until you’re lifted in the air. Chris’s eyes drop to your breasts as if he wasn’t just drooling on them minutes ago. You snap your fingers until he looks into your eyes. “I know what to do. Why don’t you sit down for me and let me take care of you now.”
You can tell he’s hesitant. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know how he wants to. Chris easilylistens to your instructions; how you want him stripped from the lower half, sitting on the couch with his legs sprawled open so his hard, leaky cock is pretty on display.
Chris looks nervous, you can tell by how he grabs a nearby pillow and hugs it to his chest. “Are you sure, baby? I don’twant you to hurt yourself.” 
How endearing your lover is. Willing to sacrifice his pleasure for your comfort.
You fly to his lap and rest on a meaty thigh. “You don’t gotta worry your pretty little head about nothing, Channie.” You reach out a hand to rub it against his cock. “I can handle it.”
Before he can say anything else, you quickly find your place on his shaft with your back facing him. You gasp at the warmth, the thickness of his cock between your legs. Your body is already wet from your orgasm, so it’s easy to gently slide against him. The veins from his cock seem huge this closeup and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when your clit goes over one. 
“You’re so big Channie,” you hum, looking back. “Almost as big as me.”
Chris giggles shyly, adjusting in his seat so he slightly slouches against the cushions. You turn back to face his tip and place your little hands on his dick to balance yourself. A whine leaves Chris’s throat when you grind against him higher. Your hands reach out to play with his tip, swirling around the sensitive flesh and having your fingers rub against his slit. 
His hips thrust up and you let out a surprised squeal.
“S-shit, sorry,” he moans. “I didn’t mean to.” Chris is being so careful not to have you slip off, but it’s nearly impossible for him to keep still. Not when he can see your entire body jerking him off, your little ass humping his cock so nicely. He especially loves the wet trail that you leave behind with every grind. 
You laugh, “It’s okay. Just means you’re feeling good.”
Since you’re just slightly bigger than his length, you decide it would be better to lay completely flat on his cock and slide yourself that way. It’s silly though, humping his dick in a way that reminds you of the nights you spent on your tiny bed touching yourself at the thought of Chris. Now, you’re able to put all that practice to good use.
With your legs wrapped around the base, you find it much easier to slide yourself. To go at a speed that has Chris moaning and fisting his hands into the sofa. Your tongue lolls from your mouth as you moan with him, effectively adding moisture that makes everything wetter.
“Baby! Baby, baby, you’re gonna make me cum just like that.” Chris pants. One of his hands shoots down below his cock, tugging his balls to help get him closer. You tilt your head to look down at the sight, whimpering at how he holds and rubs his sack.
It makes you go faster. You practically squeeze his cock with your limbs almost painfully. Chris only finds pleasure in your hold though. Without thinking, Chris wraps his other hand around his cock and you. Your wings immediately find cover behind your back so they don’t get damaged. The hand around you tightens slightly. 
“You want me to use you, hm?” Chris carefully drags you up and down his length. “Be my little cocksleeve, is that it?” You can’t even be a fleshlight to him, but you can be useful. it’s near impossible to nod with how he’s holding you, but you let out a breathy yes. Your arms are locked at your sides from his grip, legs open and limp so he has more access to use you how he wants. 
You underestimated how slippery you would get. How his precum would leak onto your hair and face. A part of you thought it would be uncomfortable being pressed up against his cock like this, but all you can feel is how warm he is. It feels good to have him use your body like this, having your clit brush against his girth. 
Chris isn’t as careful this time, not that you mind anyway. He grunts with every drag, squeezing your body tighter until you whimper. You feel his cock twitch under you and your cunt clenches in response. 
“Fuckin’ shit,” he grunts. “Wrapped around my cock so tight.” 
You whimper. There isn’t a chance that you would be able to cum again. Your cunt is roughly pressed against his dick to get any real friction, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling any pleasure. “You’re using me so good, Channie. You gonna cum on me too?”
There isn’t a need for Chris’s confirmation. Not when the hot spurt of his release spews from his cock. You can’t see how far it shoots up, how it lands up to his thighs and leaks onto his hand. The only ounce of cum you get is on the top of your hair, a sticky, warm glob of white.
Chris releases you quickly, letting you get the proper chance to breathe and rest on his pulsing cock. 
It doesn’t last long, not when two hands carefully lift you and bring you close to Chris’s face. His neck is a deep shade of red. The blood rushes to his face to give off a pink hue. Even the tips of his ears burn with the same color. As fucked out as he looks, he still has the energy to give you an endearing smile. 
Your lips twist shyly, “Why are you looking at me like that? You know I’m completely covered in your cum, right?” But Chris only leans in and uses his nose to nuzzle against your face. 
“Mhm. My very own pixie dust.”
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c1qfxugcgy0 · 6 months ago
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adventures in aerospace
So I recently started working at Large Aircraft Manufacturer. (LAM) The plant I work at employs 30,000 people. The company as a whole employs 170,000. Usually you only hear about LAM when something goes wrong. But no matter how bumbling it seems from the outside, it's way worse on the inside.
Three months after my first day, I have been "graduated" from "training." In reality, I'm still completely worthless on the floor: the training center has given me a paltry subset of the production certificates I need to actually to do my assigned job. A commonly cited statistic at LAM is that a hundred men a day are retiring, each one representing decades of experience, walking out the door, forever. The training center is in the unenviable position of managing a generational replacement, and have resorted to shoveling heaps of zoomers through as fast as possible. (As one of the few people with a visible hairline and who is not wearing a Roblox graphic tee; I am frequently mistaken for an instructor, and asked where the bathroom is, what time the next class starts, etc)
In theory, the training center knows what shop I'm assigned to, and can simply assign me all the required classes. In practice, they do the absolute minimum amount of training in a desperate attempt to relive the crowding in their handful of computer labs and tell graduates to pick up their certs later.
Of course, the irresistible force of the schedule meets the immovable object of the FAA. If you don't have the required production certificate to perform a particular job, you don't touch the airplane. Full stop, end of story.
And so the curtain opens on the stage. It reveals a single senior mechanic, supervising a mechanic who finally received all the certs and is being qualified on this particular job, surrounded by another three trainees. Trainees are less than nothing, absolute scum. At best we can fetch and carry. Mostly we are expected to stay out of the way. And the senior mechanic is only senior in title. He is one of six assembler-installers who is certified to actually work on the plane, out of twenty people on the crew, and spends every day with a permanent audience. He is 23 years old.
("Mechanic"? If you think the jargon at your job is bad, try joining a company that's a century old. Assembler-installers are universally referred to as "mechanics", despite doing work that's nothing like what a car mechanic does, and who are generally paid far worse than FAA certified A&P mechanics. Mechanics are the 11 bravos of LAM, grunts, the single largest category of worker. The tip of the spear. Hooah!)
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Large Aircraft Manufacturer is in a dilly of a pickle. All of its existing airframe designs are hilariously antiquated. It tried designing a brand new plane from a clean sheet, and lost billions of dollars to a decade-long integration hell. After that, to save money, it tried just tacking bigger engines on an older design without changing anything else, and the stupid things plowed into the ground in an excruciatingly public manner.
LAM is now trying a middle road. It is upgrading one of its designs that is merely middle aged, rather than ancient, and with proven, de-risked components built in-house, rather than scattering them to subcontractors across the world. And it's still blowing past deadlines and burning billions of dollars LAM really doesn't have to spare.
This is the program I've been assigned to.
Advanced Midbody - Carbon Wing has taken the bold step of just tacking on carbon fiber wings to a conventional aluminum fuselage. Shockingly, AMCW is now stuck in lightning strike testing, due to that troublesome join between conductive aluminum and conductive...ish carbon fiber. But LAM, confident as ever, or perhaps driven by complaints of its customers, has announced that full rate production will begin just next year. Thus the tide of newhires. According to the schedule, we're supposed to jerk from one wingset a month to one wingset a week. That's not going to happen, but, oh well, orders from above move down at the speed of thought, while reality only slowly trickles upwards.
"120 inch pounds? Really?"
I startle upright. I have observed one hundred pi bracket installs, and I will observe a hundred more before I can touch aircraft structure. This is the first disagreement I've witnessed. A more advanced trainee is questioning the torque spec on a fastener. It is not an entirely foolish question-- most sleeve bolts we use are in the 40 in-pounds range. Doubling it that is unusual. I cough the dust off my unused vocal cords and venture an opinion.
"Well hey I could look it up? I guess"
The lead mechanic glances at me, surprised that I'm still awake, then looks away. Excuse enough for me!
I unfold myself from the stool I've been sitting on for the last four hours then hobble over to the nearest Shared Production Workstation.
We do not get Ikea-style step by step instructions on how to put together the airplane. Like any company that's been around for long enough, LAM is a tangled wad of scar tissue, ancient responses to forgotten trauma. If you state a dimension twice, in two different places, then it is possible for an update to only change one of those dimensions, thereby making the engineering drawing ambiguous. Something real bad must have happened in the past as a result of that, so now an ironclad rule is that critical information is only stated once, in one place, a single source of truth.
As a result, the installation plan can be a little... vague. Step 040 might be something like "DRILL HOLE TO SIZE AND TORQUE FASTENERS TO SPEC". What hole size? What torque spec?
Well, they tell you. Eventually.
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(Image from public Google search)
You are given an engineering drawing, and are expected to figure out how things go together yourself. (Or, more realistically, are told how it's done by coworkers) Step by step instructions aren't done because then dozens of illustrations would have to be updated with every change instead of just one, and drawings are updated surprisingly frequently.
Fasteners are denoted by a big plus sign, with a three letter fastener code on the left and the diameter on the right, like so: "XNJ + 8"
To get the actual part number, we go to the fastener callout table:
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(Note the use of a trade name in the table above. There is nothing a mechanic loves more than a good trademark. Permanent straight shank fasteners are always called HI-LOKs™. It's not a cable tie, it's a Panduit™. It's not a wedgelock, it's a Cleco™. Hey man, pass me that offset drill. What, you mean a Zephyr™? Where'd the LAMlube™ go? This also means you have to learn the names of everything twice, one name on the installation plan, and one name it's referred to in conversation.)
We find XNJ on that table, and fill in the diameter: BACB30FM8A. Now we look up the spec table for that fastener:
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The eagle eyed among you might note that there is no "diameter: 8" on that table. As a LAM mechanic, you are expected to simply know that "diameter" is measured in 32nds of an inch, which simplifies down to 1/4.
(LAM preserves many old-school skills like fraction reduction and memorizing decimal equivalents like this, like flies caught in amber. Not least is the universal use of Imperial units. Many American manufacturers have been browbeaten into adding parenthetical conversions. Not LAM! Any risk at all of a mechanic seeing a second number and using it by accident is too great, and anyway, it violates SSOT. Lengths are in inches and feet, weights are in pounds, volume is in gallons and if you don't like it then you can go eat shit!)
After 10 minutes of following references, I arrive at that table, print it off, highlight the correct row, and hand it off to my senior mechanic.
"Great, thanks."
Gratified that I have enhanced shareholder value, I sit back down, and immediately fall asleep. Another day living the dream.
(next post in this series)
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aliteralsemicolon · 7 months ago
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20. She/Her.
I write fan fiction for Spencer Reid every now and then. This post has everything you'll need to find your way around the blog. Please do not post or share my work anywhere outside the platform. Minors do not interact.
⋆ Ao3 ⋆ Disclaimers ⋆ Request guidelines ⋆ Tag navigation ⋆ Fic recs ⋆
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Masterlist
🔞 - graphic descriptions of smut / violence / heavy topics. 18+ ONLY
Recents ⋆ Forget me not ⋆ Bad, bad news 🔞 ⋆
Blurbs
Untitled #1 ⋆ 0.3K ⋆ Joining Spencer on the couch after a shower - cuddling turns playful. Forget me not ⋆ 0.5K ⋆ While traditionally this flower represents remembrance, other meanings include true love and devotion - acts of service x physical touch.
One (or more) shots
3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes ⋆ 8.6K ⋆ When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend.  Technically, I didn’t stay up. ⋆ 1K ⋆ Just you and Spencer being fluffy when he comes home from work and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Malicious Compliance ⋆ 7.2K ⋆ 🔞 Spencer’s job has been hogging more of his time than usual, leaving you neglected, frustrated and bratty. He makes up for it by ever-so-kindly giving you exactly what you asked for. We can't be friends, but I'd like to just pretend ⋆ 9.3K ⋆ You and Spencer have convinced yourselves that you’re only meant to be friends despite the strong tension between you two. It only seems to intensify the longer you ignore it, eventually reaching its boiling point and forcing changes in the friendship. ⤷ Wait until you like me again ⋆ 10.3K ⋆ 🔞 The decision to resign puts a lot of weight on your shoulders. A takedown gone wrong makes it the least of anyone's concerns, especially Spencer’s. You’re not willing to let him back in; it feels too little, too late. ⤷ I'll wait for your love ⋆ 10.4K ⋆ 🔞 The only thing you’re sure of is that you don’t want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best. I'll still be here ⋆ 2.2K ⋆ To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. You and Spencer plan to honour your vows at any cost, no matter how insignificant or difficult the situation seems.  Yours ⋆ 5.3K ⋆ 🔞 Spencer never thought he’d be lucky enough to find you, but he has. You have all his devotion and all he hopes for in return is for you to let him stay yours.
Series & other masterlists
Kinktober 2024 ⋆ 🔞 All Fem! Reader. Detailed warnings at start of each fic. Titles, pairings, plots and kinks may change. Fics may be removed and/or added.
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starleska · 6 months ago
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73 Yards has devastated me and i have some theories
we all agree that 73 Yards was a genre-defying, harrowing episode...and i think there's some really interesting themes and ideas going on here. tw for discussion of trauma, abuse, neglect and abandonment:
i hope we're all on the same page that the Woman seems to represent Ruby's fear of abandonment, brought to life. always present, always out of the corner of her eye, and whose primary mechanic is to drive people to scorn and leave Ruby without explanation. even people who do not know her, or people she's just met, or who are incredibly warm towards her...they speak to the Woman, and they look back as if to confirm their suspicions, and then run away, maddened and horrified. it is an unbelievable stroke of genius to make the Toymaker's breaking down of the boundaries between science and fantasy bring Ruby's abandonment into being...and for Ruby to weaponise her. but that's it - as soon as Roger ap Gwilliam was taken care of, we expected the Woman to disappear, right? but that could never happen, because Ruby's fear of abandonment will never disappear...no matter how purposeful her life is, or how much she distances herself from others. the use of the cruel, distant individuals in the Welsh pub to set up Ruby sympathetically is excellent...and then, we see people approach Ruby at all levels of emotional connection, when time and again she is considered untouchable, as if her very being is contagious. and all this time, we have the fairy circle being broken and hope vanishing...with hope being the Doctor. the one man who potentially holds the key to uncovering Ruby's deepest desires - to find out why she was abandoned, and by who. and at the end of it all...even in death, Ruby doesn't find peace. she is transported into a neverending hell-loop where she is her own abandonment. the two are inseparable, inexplicably the same, because Ruby's very existence as herself is built on the bedrock of abandonment. and i think this resonates heavily with any trauma survivor...the way that our trauma and our very real anxieties brought on by that trauma are inextricable from ourselves. i think the plot with Roger ap Gwilliam shows off a very real symptom in trauma survivors: we often daydream that our hurt and pain will be useful one day - functional. and not only does Ruby get to do that...she gets to be the quiet, unsung saviour of the whole world, protecting us from a world-ending terror in spite of the abuse and neglect she's faced. she endures menial work and constant fear, while only confiding quietly in one other person...Marti, who i believe is coded as another trauma survivor due to her response to Roger (who she describes as a monster). if Ruby can't receive love and affection from anyone else, at least she can feel satisfied that she served her purpose. on a practical level, the presence of Mrs Flood and Susan Twist in this episode AGAIN gives me pause. my theory that someone here is another of the Toymaker's Legions, and is the embodiment of Story, has only deepened. the fact that we had a cold open without the title sequence, we met Susan Twist very quickly, we seem to have flipped genres for the show and Ruby was able to embark on a self-destructive wish-fulfilment saviour fantasy in real life...it all indicates to me that the boundaries between reality and fiction are fully collapsing. when Kate says things are trending towards the supernatural lately, i think we've only hit the tip of the iceberg. on a broader level: my God Russell T Davies, what a brilliant script!!! this is one of my favourite ever episodes of Doctor Who, and is absolutely my highlight for the season. huge kudos to Millie Gibson for giving such a killer performance...i am now terribly endeared to, and protective, of Ruby, and hope against hope she gets the happy ending she so deserves 💖
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