#stares at some of my other muses like HMM

[deathfavor]

what does your heart look like?

molten lava and charred flesh

Your heart burned so fiercely that it burnt itself out, leaving horrible scars in its wake; scars inside your chest and on the hands of those who touched you, the hearts of anyone who got close enough to connect to yours. The person you are now is no longer recognizable, burnt up by your own anger and passion and love. The injuries can never be fully erased, but they can be soothed with time and trust and forgiveness

a compass that doesn’t waver

You are someone who is certain of what you want. Maybe you always have been, or maybe you made a discovery that you haven’t been able to tear your eyes away from. Your heart is set and certain. You fight endlessly for your goals. Above all else, you know who you are and what you are trying to achieve. Just be careful not to tear yourself or others apart in pursuit of your ideals.

a bird struggling to get loose

Your heart can never hold still. It pounds against your chest frantically, always turning your sights to one thing after the next. When was the last time you were certain? The last time your life was stable? Maybe this is how you prefer things. On the move constantly, not tied down to one person or place. You chase one goal after the next. Can you ever really feel complete without a place to land? Shouldn’t you build yourself a nest?

a compass that doesn’t waver

You are someone who is certain of what you want. Maybe you always have been, or maybe you made a discovery that you haven’t been able to tear your eyes away from. Your heart is set and certain. You fight endlessly for your goals. Above all else, you know who you are and what you are trying to achieve. Just be careful not to tear yourself or others apart in pursuit of your ideals.

tagged by: @ofsavior​ ( thank you! )

tagging: @shackld ; @sortilegii ; @furiaei ; @ofgravitation ; @soaringly ; @prxenuntius​ ; @barrenstars ; @lendmeyourpower ; @unmachine ; @undescension​ ; @ashrifts​ for multimuses do either the ones you have the most muse for and/or ones you wanna show off more <3

[godzexperiment]

me with the concept of the variation of god that's floating in my head+major thoughts about nix's connection to his maker and how it also shapes how he'd be towards other gods etc im so tempted to put an starter up just for the possible vibes (even if i dont cave entirely just something about an little indulgence like another layer of character development or something)

[dilatorywriting]

“I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

For the event, can I request Malleus for this? I need to send ALL my love to him ASAP. Although for this, feel free to have him being the one saying it to reader.

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt 51: "I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

There was something about being in love with a fae that would always be at least a little intimidating.

No, it wasn’t the unearthly powers that could literally rip through the fabric of time and space with a snap of his fingers. No, it wasn’t the cold, serpentine stare or the sharp fangs in his mouth that shined like well-polished knives under the right light. It wasn’t even the horns. Even though they added an extra foot onto the dragon’s already stupidly impressive height.

But there were other things, sometimes. Less tangiblethings.

You tried not to think about it too much, because you loved Tsunotarou. Really, you did. And you didn’t want some… some creeping thing at the fringes of your consciousness to ruin that.

It was cold tonight, and you puffed warm breath onto your fingers. Normally Malleus was the one waiting for you to arrive at your usual Gargoyle Filled haunts, but he’d had a meeting with his retainers today. And you weren’t surprised he was running a bit late in the aftermath.

‘Man, I’m surprised Draconia is ever on time for anything,’ Ace had complained, during some mandatory assembly or other. Watching as Malleus floated into the room a solid two hours after scheduled.

‘He’s usually very punctual,’ you’d answered, confused.

‘Sure, sure. But don’t fae have, like, super fucked up senses of time?’ the redhead mused. ‘Like I bet you could tell him to meet you in an hour and he’d show up a week later or something.’

“Child of man,” a familiar timbre called out over the snow, and you perked up immediately, hopping from foot to foot to get your circulation going again before trotting out to meet him halfway.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped. “How was your day?”

“Dreadful,” he answered, deadpan, and bent his arm neatly so that you could tuck your fingers into the crook of his elbow and snuggle yourself into his side. He was like a walking furnace, what with the roaring, emerald fires in his belly. And the snowflakes seemed to melt before they’d even touched his skin. “Nothing but paperwork. Perhaps I should turn them all into enchanted quills, and then they might finally be fit for their positions.”

You snorted into your glove. “You’d need to turn some of them into ink then, too.”

“Ah, of course,” he intoned. And then shot you a smirk that was just on the right side of besotted. “Whatever would I do without your wise guidance?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, and then smiled right back in that stupidly, soppy way. “But you seemed more than smart enough to manage on your own before I came along. And I’m sure you’ll go back to being brilliant when I’m gone,” you added on a laugh.

But Malleus didn’t join in your giggling.

The fae stopped in place, and you were dragged to a halt with him. You blinked up at him, confused. His expression was… complicated.

“You are leaving?” he asked, each word sounding like it had to be pried out of his mouth with a crowbar.

“What?” you blinked. “Of course not.” Crowley never having bothered to lift a feathery finger to find you a way home aside, you had more than enough reasons to stay here for as long as your meager, mortal life would allow. Going home… it soured something in your stomach that you didn’t even want to consider. So you just tightened your fingers around his arm and shot him as reassuring of a smile as you could muster. “Even if I had the choice, I’d be staying right here.”

But that just made Malleus’s brow pinch up tighter.

“Then what did you mean?” he questioned, perplexed. “When you said ‘when I’m gone.’”

Ah.

You fought a guilty wince. You hadn’t wanted to drag your own little terrors into his worries as well. You really needed to get a better leash on the poor quips that managed to tumble out of your mouth.

“Well, just that, uhm…” You waved your free hand awkwardly. “You know.”

More furrowing.

“I do not,” he said, sounding grumpy. It was a bit adorable, seeing an almighty prince and near God pout at you. But you fought off the urge to coo over his pursed lips and scrunched nose. Time and place, self. Time and place.

“I’m mortal,” you said finally, hoping that would cover it.

“And?”

Ugh. Come on, dude. Give me something here.

You shrugged, tight and awkward. “Just that, well, you know. Your lifespan is near infinite right? And mine is sort of set to be…” You held up your fingers and pinched them close together. “Uhm. Not that.”

“And you think that such an inconsequential factor means that you will be leaving me?” he asked, and you blinked at him in outright confusion.

“It’s pretty consequential,” you squeaked out, and averted your gaze. “And.. and besides. I knew that from the beginning. And I just want to be able to make the best out of the time with you that I have,” you said, hoping it sounded properly reassuring and not like the start of a particularly peppy obituary.

“…I see,” the Prince said, low. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll be gone, I’m sure.”

You blinked again, owlish and slow.

“Pardon?”

“What is the human expression…?” he hummed, tucking your arm back tightly against his side and starting up your leisurely stroll once more. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Almost so much as time itself.”

Yeah, you wanted to amend. But not from beyond the grave.

“I guess so,” you shrugged.  

“Can you imagine then,” he hummed. “How much I’ll love you in a thousand years?”

“I—” you swallowed, feeling tears prick at the back of your eyes.

But rather than give your poor, fluttering soul a chance to recover, he just pushed onwards.

“I will love you forever, and when ‘forever’ ends, I suppose that I’ll just love you even more,” he said, perfectly level and serious, like he hadn’t just absolutely pulled your heart out of your chest and set the whole of you on fire.

You stared up at his regal, handsome face from beneath a soft veil of falling snow. With those cold, emerald eyes, the pointed fangs, the horns. You felt like your stomach had fallen out at your toes, like the whole of you was bound to float away like a balloon lost in the breeze. Because he’d said—he’d really—

“And of course,” the dragon shrugged. “I’ve always intended to extend your lifespan to begin with.”

You gaped at him wordlessly for a moment, before letting out a hideously embarrassed squawk and pounding at his chest with your gloved hands.

“You could’ve told me that!” you shrieked, practically steaming in the cold with the heat pulsing off your cheeks.

“I suppose,” he smirked, catching your flailing fists easily in one of his own large hands. “But then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction to my declarations, would I?” he cooed, all smooth, dark chocolate and smoky embers. “And I had to work so hard to memorize those lines. Fitting as they are, I was told that the moment to use them would have to be perfect, and—"

“Did Lilia set you up for this?” you choked.

Malleus snorted and turned to tug you further down the path. “Only a little.”

.

.

[vilhelios]

— WAIT FOR ME / I'M STILL SOMEWHERE ;

( you're getting older without me and i'm getting scared ) ; in which rafayel still hopes that there's a life where this works — where you do not crush his bleeding heart in your hands, & he still loves you despite, despite, despite.

cw: not beta read; spoilers for abysswalker rafayel's "sea of golden sand" myth, "fragrant dreams" card, "siren's song" anecdote, & main story ch. 7; angst ; some fluff ; mentions of blood, injury & death ; theories + headcanons about mc & rafayel's past lives ; kinda pretentious rafayel lore analysis ( can't help it, i just love him a lot! )

"RAFAYEL, do you think we're lovers in every universe?"

in the stillness of the night, as he mindlessly draws designs on your skin with his thumb, rafayel lies through his teeth: "yeah. i'm sure we are."

it's all he can manage. how do you tell your lover—your dear, sweet muse, whose presence makes the sea of your heart ebb and swell—that you've wondered the same thing lifetimes ago, and know the answer with bittersweet certainty? you continue talking about an article you read, in the morning—something about "consciousness energy fluctuations" and "that feeling of deja vu" and "soulmates."

and rafayel wonders, humming along to your rambling, if that's what you two are: soulmates.

"i wonder what we're like." you sigh, burrowing your head into the warmth of his chest. surely you can hear the rapid thrumming of his heart—he can't help it, the organ so helplessly weak in your presence. "you're the most creative man i know; got any ideas?"

"i think," rafayel starts, runs his fingers through your hair, "there's a life where i'm a merman, you're the human i've fallen deeply in love with, and the barrier between the waves and the shoreline is all that's stopping us."

rafayel remembers being younger, lifetimes ago. he remembers swimming upstream, through a little river that becomes a smaller creek, settling by your quaint home. he remembers playing you a song on his flute, an elegy for lemuria that became your song. he still remembers your head peeking out from the window and the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen staring down at him. you were like sunflecks dancing upon the water's surface—dazzling—and he, denizen of the deep dark sea, couldn't help but fall in love. he gave you his heart, his blood, his voice.

"hmm... reminds me of an old fairy tale." you press a kiss to the beauty mark on his chest, your lips curving into a smile against his skin. right above where his heart is, where the proof of your pact would shine bright. "do you think you'd have gotten a pair of legs and we'd live happily ever after on land?"

"of course i would've." rafayel smiles.

(he does not think about the way his voice grew hoarse as he sung lemuria's elegy. he does not think about the dagger he'd clutched so tightly in his hidden hand, as you approached him on the shore. he does not think about the hug, the warmth of your body making his resolve flutter. the warm blood on his hands, in the water, seeping from the heart he once loved and now carved out and cradled. he does not think about returning to a ruined lemuria, everything he's ever loved ripped away from him in a night.)

"then i like that one. what about another? knowing how we quarrel, do you think we were royalty hailing from opposing kingdoms?"

"hmm, close. i'd say that i'm an assassin, sneaking into your lovely highness's bedroom window."

"hah! i can see that." his heart flutters when he hears you giggle. rafayel wishes he could trap that beautiful sound inside a conch shell, it almost seemed possible, the way it felt like molten gold—sunlight. "i'd leave the windows open just so you'd have an easier time coming in."

"glad to know you'd still fall for my charms." he finds it in himself to smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "even if it might not be the brightest idea, dummy."

"hmph, but if we still loved each other then, you wouldn't kill me." your hand reaches upwards to cup his cheek, a thumb aimlessly stroking comforting lines across his skin. his breath hitches at how naturally it comes to you. "you'd fall for my charms too."

(why wouldn't it? you've done it so many times before, as you—dear highness of philos—gingerly removed his mask. he, who was destined to carve out your heart; and he, who could not bear to do so, who fell apart in the warmth of your hold. any hatred he'd held in his heart for the humans that desecrated his home —beautiful, sacred lemuria— dissolved with each ripple of the lake you both had danced across on that silent night. how could he ever hurt his beloved, who in another life he'd devoted entire oceans to?)

"yeah." he breathes out, almost a chuckle. "yeah, i guess i would, your highness."

"rafa?" you murmur, words slurred with the call of sleep, ushered in by him running a hand through your hair. "i really hope that we're soulmates even if it's in the silliest lives you could ever think up. do you?"

(and he hopes for more, a case study in greed. he hopes for the most blissful lives with you—where he's the receding sea and you are the sands of the shore, or you are an anemone polyp and he is the rock you've decided to settle upon, or he is the deepsea fish that looks longingly upon the warmth of the sunflecks that dance upon the water. he hopes there's a life where this whole thing works: where you do not crush his bleeding heart in your hands, & he still loves you despite, despite, despite.)

and rafayel smiles, presses the umpteenth kiss tonight to your forehead, watches you draw closer into his hold. and then he whispers his little wish against your skin, as soft as a siren singing lullabies to a sailor:

"yeah. i hope so too."

a/n: on this lovely valentine's day i offer the rafa stans: angst 🤩 the ending was a bit rushed because i... was no longer in an angsty mood. this fic is very much so a product of a time where i knew less of rafa's lore (see: did not finish the myth) so there may be some lore inaccuracies ... please do listen to berenstein by the band camino!!! l&ds' plot feels like an amalgamation of some of my favourite songs (berenstein, heartbeat by bts, isohel by EDEN)... and it's just such a good plot so far. please send me rafa lore stuff/general thoughts bc i'd love to try and play around with some of them (i have an idea for his birthday fic already) ,,, i'd love and appreciate you immensely ♡

[soyeonsbabygirl]

Lip Gloss | Sana Minatozaki x Reader

You loved Lip Gloss. Everyone knew this, it was no secret. You were seen with it on so much it became your signature look, which is how you became the face of Hera Muse beauty. It also led to Mabeline collabing with you to make your own lip gloss. Even your members would buy you it as a gift to show you how much they cared about you which you appreciated very much.

No one liked you in lip gloss more than your girlfriend Sana though. She loved how soft it made your lips when she kissed you, the marks you left on her after kissing any part of her body, and overall it just brought out more of your beauty to her.

You went to grab something from the kitchen that morning, and was standing on your tippy toes due to how high the shelf was. As you reached your shirt rode up showing your ass cheeks slightly which Sana saw from the other side of the kitchen. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist causing you to look behind you only to see Sana smirking at you.

Sana couldn't resist taking the opportunity to show her dominance over you. As her arms snaked around your waist, she gave a small smirk as she pulled you back into her embrace, her hands running suggestively over your curves. You bit your lip in response to her actions.

“Sana unnie…” "Hmm?" She questioned, her breath tickling your neck as she leaned in close. "What did you want, baby girl?" She purred, her tone filled with amusement and an undercurrent of lust. You forgot all about the cup as your hands flew to counter gripping it. Sana continued to hold you close, "Seeing you like this, so exposed and under my control... it feels so good yn," She whispered, her voice growing huskier in the quiet room.

You said nothing as you kept your eyes squeezed shut, “mmm," Sana hummed, her hands roaming your body more boldly now. She leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "You belong to me, yn," She purred, her breath sending shivers down your spine. “Unnie..” you somehow managed to breathe but your voice was barely a whisper as you struggled to keep yourself grounded.

"Hmm?" She asked, turning you around to look into your eyes. The lust in her gaze mixed with the possessiveness she held over you was palpable. She gave you a kiss that left you breathless and pulled away with a small smile "You're so delicious, yn. I can't wait to taste more of you.” You bit your lip slightly as you looked at her, your lipgloss had slightly stained her lips.

“What's wrong, baby girl?" Sana questioned, her hands moving up your arms to rest possessively on your shoulders. "Are you not enjoying this?" Her gaze bored into you as she leaned in, her mouth almost against your ear once more. You said nothing as you stared at her taking in how beautiful she looked with her slightly messy hair and the pink crop top with matching shorts she chose to wear to sleep.

Sana smirked, taking that as a challenge. She leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss, her tongue tracing the seam of your lips before pushing past them. Her hands slipped down to your hips, possessively molding you to her. You loved her lips against yours, and judging by how she kissed you it was obvious she could taste the faint cherry on your lips from your lip gloss.

“ Mmm," Sana moaned into the kiss, her free hand running through your hair. "You taste so sweet, baby," She whispered against your lips before breaking the kiss and pulling back slightly. "And you belong to me." She purred, her voice low and threatening. You loved when she got like this, almost as if she was addicted to you and your taste.

You were left breathless making her smirk, she wrapped an arm around your waist. "Now, come along, baby girl. It's time for some fun.” She led you down the hall to your guys room, her eyes darkening with desire. She closed the door behind you two licking her lips enjoying the faint cherry flavor she tasted. "Now, where were we?" She asked, tracing her fingers along your jawline. She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours once more, her tongue demanding entrance. You parted your lips allowing her tongue to explore your mouth.

Sana's heart raced as she felt your lips part under hers. She deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing together in a fiery display of passion. One hand trailed up your thigh, while the other found its way to your hair, tangling itself within the strands. You moaned moaned softly against her lips. You brought your hand up to her cheek deepening the kiss even more, Sana let out a satisfied moan into the kiss, her body trembling with desire.

She pulled away gently, her lips trailing soft kisses down your jawline. "Mine," she murmured, her breath hot against your neck. "You're all mine, yn.” You moaned softly and let out soft sighs as she kissed your neck.the only thing you were thinking about was the pleasure Sana was giving you. Feeling your responsive reactions, Sana grew bolder.

She bit gently at your neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "And I'm going to claim every inch of you," she promised, her voice low and seductive. You moaned in response to this your breathing getting heavier. She kissed you again letting her hands wander down your body. You moaned softly against her lips. You desperately needed her. You felt her hands begin to grope your tits making you moan louder. Feeling your body respond to her touch, made Sana grow more confident. Her hands squeezed your boobs, teasing the nipples through your clothing. "You're so responsive," she praised, nipping at your earlobe before moving back to your neck.

You moaned again as you took the oversized shirt you were wearing off. You bit your lip as you guided her hands back to your tits. As soon as Sana felt your naked skin against hers, she was consumed by desire. Her hands moved to your breasts, squeezing them firmly and pinching the hardening nipples. "Fuck,” this action caused you to moan loudly again. Sana could feel her own arousal growing as she felt your responsiveness. Her touch grew rougher, as she began leaving love bites on your skin. Her lips trailed down your neck, to your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses as she continued to assault your breasts.

Your moans grew louder and your pants became more frequent. “You like that, huh?" Sana purred, nipping at your collarbone. "I'm going to make you scream my name, yn." Her words were laced with a promise of pleasure and pain, causing shivers to run down your spine. You shuddered slightly and bit your lip. “please fuck me Sana unnie..”this made Sana’s gaze darken with lust, “Oh, you want it rough?" Sana growled, her tone darkening.

Without waiting for a response, she spun you around and pinned you against the bed, her body flush against yours. Sana's hands roamed freely over your body, her touch both demanding and seductive. She trailed her hands up your sides, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "You like that?” You breathed out a breathy yes in response as she continued. “Tell me," Sana demanded, her voice hoarse with desire. "Tell me what you want.” “I want you…I want you to fuck me…” you barely got out.

With a soft chuckle, Sana leaned in and captured your lips in a fiery kiss. Her tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth. When she finally pulled away, she whispered against your lips, "Say my name.” “mm~ Sana~” With a triumphant moan, Sana slid her hand between your legs, rubbing against your sensitive folds through the thin fabric of your panties. "That's it," she purred. "You're so fucking wet for me.”

She threw them aside before bending down to take one of your thighs up over her shoulder, opening you up to her. “Ah!~ Sana!~” “Fuck," Sana breathed her fingers finally sinking into your wet heat. She thrust in and out of you with a rough rhythm, making you gasp and moan in pleasure. "You like that? My naughty girl.”

You moaned and gasped succumbing to the pleasure you were feeling from her fingers. You squirmed as well your head moving left and right between the pillows “Fuck!~ Sana!~” “That's it, baby," Sana purred, her fingers digging deeper into your flesh. "Give in to the pleasure. I'm going to make you cum so hard for me.” You moaned louder your walls tightening against her fingers “Sana!~” With a soft moan, Sana pulled her fingers from your tight folds and leaned in close to whisper against your ear.

"You're all mine , yn.” Your back arched as you orgasmed, coating her fingers with your cum moaning loudly. Sana watched as you convulsed around her fingers, your orgasm washing over her. She leaned down, her lips finding the shell of your ear. "That's my good girl," she whispered, her voice shaky with lust. You panted trying to catch my breath, Sana slowly pulled her fingers from your slippery folds, her eyes never leaving yours.

She leaned in closer, her lips barely brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss before pulling back with a smirk. "You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me.” You giggled slightly at her words, “Now come here," Sana demanded, her voice taking on a demanding tone. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close as she laid back down on the bed.

You listened naturally snuggling up close to her. Sana trailed her fingers up your legs, over your flat stomach and up your chest, stopping to tease your nipples. With a smirk, she leaned in to kiss you again, her tongue demanding entry into your mouth. You parted your lips allowing her to makeout with you.

You moaned against her lips as you made out squirming from her touch. Sana broke the kiss, her breathing ragged as she trailed her fingers down your abdomen once more, between your legs to find your clit. She started to tease it softly, circling around it teasingly before rubbing firmly.

You whined and moaned from her teasing and circling your clit. Before you could say something, Momo burst into the room and then stared both you and Sana. She slammed the door leaving making Sana laugh as you cuddled into her whining from embarrassment as she kissed your head stroking your hair.

So I actually love Sana so much it’s crazy and I also love this fic so much it’s even crazier <3

[sandwitchstories]

Precious Two

Here is the first of the promised new creations in my series of drabbles, headcannons and one shots about Dad!Sukuna!

Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! (no type of rhyme or reason here, only things in common are Dad!Sukuna and fluff)

Summary: While settling into this wholly unplanned role as a father, you knew Sukuna would have some speed bumps. You just never thought that nicknames would be one of them.

WC: 785

CW: female reader, mother reader, breastfeeding, new born baby, true form Sukuna (4 arms, 2- oh wait this isn't that type of story...) some slightly suggestive humor (other than that horribly lame joke I should probably apologize for), it's just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack

“I shall call her precious two,” Sukuna said from where he laid on the bed beside you, holding your 2 day old daughter while she slept. 

“That is a terrible nickname,” you screwed up your face at him.

“How so? Do I not call you precious one?’

“You do, and I love it,” you smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to the side of his face.

It never failed to do something to his insides that you kissed the malformed side of his face as if it were the same as the other. Though he would rather have his toenails plucked off one at a time than admit that out loud. 

He turned his head and cupped the back of your skull with one of his free hands. “You are my precious one. Always.”

At that moment your daughter decided to give her lungs a stretch, alerting that she was hungry. She was her father’s child. Girl got the hangry from her Papa. A demand feeder and a bottomless pit. Come to think of it, both of them did also share the trait of calming down once a boob was in their mouth…

“Alright, precious t… child, we are all aware you are hungry, you can stop the noise now… now… as in this instant stop it…”

You chuckled as you fixed your pillows and opened your robe in preparation as you stretched out your hands for her. “Come here, little one. Mama's ready for you.”

Sukuna handed her over, watching you and her with so much love in his eyes. There was something about the sight of you breast feeding his child that filled him with something akin to a warmth. He scooted closer, wrapping an arm around you back, resting another one on top of your head, and another giant hand moving across you to run his fingers through the thick pink hair sprouting from his daughter's impossibly small head.

“Drink up, little princess of curses and deadly poisons. A world of curses will be under your command, you must be strong to keep them in line,” he said, love in all 4 his eyes as he watched her suckle at your breast. He sat back and smirked at you. “Is that better, precious one?”

“Let's shorten it to just Little Princess, hmm? We don't want to put too much pressure on her this young,” you turned your head and kissed his chest before snuggling into him.

“She should get used to her title now. She is the first born child of the King of Curses.”

“First born?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was a dumb question. He looked down at her and one corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “Precious two came out pretty damn cute. Things only get better with practice. So by the time we get to Precious Fo-”

He grunted, entirely for show, when you lightly thumped your fist against his chest. “What the hell was that about?”

“1. I told you precious two was a no go, so there is no chance I will endorse precious three or precious four. Get that through your thick skull now. And 2. PRECIOUS FOUR? Are you going to carry any of these babies?”

“I have 4 hands don’t I,” he gave you a droll stare.

You turned your face into his chest and groaned. “That’s not what I meant…”

He grinned from ear to ear. He knew damn well what you meant, it was just too much fun to fuck with you. He kissed the top of your head before resting his head back against his head board, resting on his arm folded behind his neck, he pretended to be lost in thought, musing softly aloud.  “Little poison princess? Poison princess? Princess curse? Little curse?”

“Sukuna. Didn’t we just agree on it being just little princess?”

“No, we did not agree. You just merely stated your opinion,” Sukuna replied, struggling to keep the smile out of his voice.

“Sukuna… do you want precious three and precious four to even be a consideration?” you tried to sound threatening.

“Oh so it’s okay when you call them that?”

“Sorry, little princess, looks like you’re gonna be an only child,” you smiled at the way her little hand fisted around your finger. 

You watched her eating, glancing up to see Sukuna looking at you and you knew the truth. You would give that man as many babies as you were able to. Not only because he was gorgeous and you thoroughly enjoyed the act of making babies with him, but also because you knew the truth - that ‘monster’ you married was going to be the best father in the world.

[l0serloki]

First Kisses!

(Chamber, Phoenix, Reyna, Iso)

You get your first kiss with some of the Val agents!

masterlist

Chamber :

Chamber was shocked. You two had been flirting for quite a while but when he had never expected you to tell him you had never had a kiss. 

“You want me to believe someone as gorgeous as you has never been kissed?” He laughs it off at first, taking in your blushed splendor.

“Never.” You confirm with a little laugh. His hand makes its way across your cheek.

“May I fix that for you darling?” His voice is suave and his eyes shine through his glasses. Always so calculating. 

You could feel your heart beat out of your chest. It took everything in you to even mumble out a quick ‘yes’.

“I’m honored I am your first.” Chamber whispers in your ear before he leans in, his lips meeting yours. It was everything you had ever expected it to be. His lips were soft and moved gently as you learned the pace. By the time he had pulled away you were left breathless.

"You are a fast learner." He smiles as his thumb rubs at your cheek.

"And you are a good teacher."

Phoenix :

Phoenix and you were talking about random things from your guys childhood when the topic came up.

“I had my first kiss when I was thirteen.” He laughs and your eyes widen. You knew you were in the minority of people who hadn’t been kissed but.. thirteen?! That seemed so young!

“What? When was your first kiss?” He poked at you and you could feel the tension start to rise.

“Uh…” You sigh and a wicked grin appears on his face.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had a kiss.” His smug look turns into one of shock when you slowly nod your head no.

“Right.. Well I think we gotta fix that.” He huffs as he reaches his hand out for your waist. “May I?” He wiggles his eyebrows and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Go on then.” You roll your eyes but you can’t help but feel pleased. If you wanted to have your first kiss with anyone it would be Phoenix. You trusted him and knew he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.

His lips pressed against yours as his warm hand rubbed lightly at your waist. As soon as it started it left, leaving you almost.. disappointed?

“Want another?” Phoenix grins at your look and cocks his head. Sly bastard.

Reyna :

“Let me give you a little kiss.” Reyna teased as her hand wiped at the crumbs on your lips. You could feel yourself grow nervous at the implication. You liked Reyna a lot. But you had never crossed that line with her. Frankly, you had never crossed that line with anyone.

“Y-you don’t have to.” You stutter out and she only coos at your embarrassment. 

“Do you not want one?” She asks and you don’t know how to respond. You do but if you tell her this is your first will she think you were childish?

“I do I just..” You stop yourself as you grow even more nervous.

“This is your first?” She grabs your hand and rubs it soothingly. You only nod as her smile grows.

“Then let me teach you how to kiss. You’ll like it, don't worry.” She breathes out as her lips meet yours. It’s a feeling like none other. You feel your body light up as she cradles you softly. 

“Just a few more, hmm?” She muses as she moves back in.

Iso :

You were listening to music together on his bed after a long mission. He had never played this music before and it almost felt like he had curated the playlist for you. You stared up at the ceiling with him as the melody continued to play. You could feel his gaze on you and you turned.

His eyes bore holes into your head and you suddenly felt nervous. It felt like he could see everything.

“Y/N, I don’t want to ruin our friendship but I really like you.” He says confidently and your eyes widen. You had liked him for a while but never dared to say anything.

“I like you too.” You choke out and a smile appears on the mans face. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and you could feel yourself squirm. If you thought too much into it you would back out.

“Do it.”

He takes your word and pulls you closer to him, his lips melting against yours. You close your eyes as you let yourself relax at the new sensation. You had finally had your first kiss. And with Iso for that matter.

You two finally broke the kiss to come up from air. His hand stayed against your arm as he just smirked.

“You’re a good kisser.” He whispers out and you feel pride fill your body.

“Thanks, it's my first time.” You grin and his jaw drops to the floor.

“What?!”

[puppyplayhouse]

Jeongin x Puppy Best Friend

Warnings: Dub Con sort of, dirty talk, praise, first-time cream pie, best friends to lovers, some degrading but barely, a lil choking, riding.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐩་༘࿐

Indulging your weird kinks came so naturally to Jeongin. You were so close, and you both loved experimenting, so when you excitedly mentioned puppy play to him, he immediately was down to help you.

It's so easy for you both to fall into it. Sure, it was a little awkward at first, but when he realised how eager you were to please and how easy it was to get you in that head space, it became one of his favourite things!

He always treats you like a puppy. Always petting your hair or shushing you and telling you to sit and be good when he's trying to focus. It's not sexual at first! Not at all. It's just a supportive friend letting you explore this fun new space until one day when you're a little more worked up than usual and you decide to slot yourself between his legs where he sat on the couch.

He doesn't pay you any mind at first, just ruffling your hair and focusing on his show. He doesn't spare a single thought to you until he feels your nose brush over his sweats, his length twitching in response. He stares down at you with his brows raised and his head tilted, but you're so deep into your headspace that you don't even register it, nuzzling against his hardening cock once again.

"Puppy, what are you doing?" He questions carefully, knowing you hadn't really discussed making this a sexual thing. You'd been intimate, of course, but it hadn't been discussed in this context.

Your eyes are watery, and his hand grips your cheek on instinct, his thumb brushing your lips. When your tongue darts out to lick over his skin, he finds his resolve slipping a little. You're so whiny, and he's almost annoyed by how desperate you seem, getting himself jealous from the thought that if he wasn't here, you'd be pleading for someone else to touch you.

His self made jealousy is what causes him to slide two fingers into your mouth, watching intently as you suck at the digits, your spit coating them generously. He can't stop himself from pushing them in further, smirking when you gag but make no attempt to move, obediently taking the assault as he begins fucking your throat with his fingers.

"Aren't you a good dog. Look so pretty sucking on my fingers." He muses more to himself than you, noting the wiggle of your hips in response to his praise. It was endearing, really, and he did love to see you happy.

An idea peaks his interest and has him using his puppy voice on you, cooing as he asks if you want a special treat! "Hmm? Would my sweet puppy like a bone?" You'd cringe in any other situation, but the need pulsing through you in a steady rhythm is more than enough for you to be panting, wiggling your hips more intensely as you paw at his bulge.

He doesn't hesitate to free his cock and he struggles to maintain a sense of composure as you begin lapping at it, your wet tongue trailing up and down the sides before your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling in the most tantalising way possible which urges him to buck his hips, a loud moan escaping him when you happily take the extra length down your throat.

His obvious pleasure is more than enough encouragement, and you bob your head up and down on his dick until he's physically pushing you off, not wanting to come without feeling your walls wrap around him.

"C'mere puppy. Come sit in my lap, okay?"

You do sit in his lap, but not before he helps you out of your pants and underwear, allowing your bare cunt to slide easily over his length and coat it with your slick. He'll worry about his soaked sweats later, but there's no time to think about it with you grinding mindlessly against him in search of your own pleasure.

He would have been happy to keep up the grinding, but he hears your loud yelp before he even registers that he's balls deep inside your dripping hole, you're movements having been erratic enough for his tip to catch on your entrance and slide straight in. It stings a little considering your lack of preparation, but that doesn't deter you from continuing to grind against him and you stop caring entirely when his thumb finds your clit, his free hand coming up to grip your throat.

"Fuck. You dirty puppy. So fucking needy." He growls between thrusting his hips up into you, eventually stilling you so that you're hovering slightly to allow him to pound up into you recklessly. "This is what you needed, wasn't it? A thick hard cock to stretch out your pretty cunt? My poor puppy." His tone is condescending and it gets you wetter to have him talk down to you.

"Please." He can hear your whisper, but he truly isn't sure what you're asking for.

"Please what, puppy? Need to use your words for me."

"Please cum in me!"

His hips still and his eyes are wide, almost panicked despite the fresh wave of arousal. You're whining and trying desperately to take more of him, but his firm grip on your throat and your hip keeps you still.

"What?"

"Cum in me. Please, Innie!" His head is spinning, and something deep in him is telling him to throw caution to the wind, but he won't unless he knows you're serious.

He grips your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye. "Tell me you're serious. Tell me you're fucking serious and I'll fill you up real good, okay?"

You're like a deer in the headlights when you nod a little too eagerly, whimpering pathetically. "I'm sure! So fucking sure. Please, Innie. Never been filled before. Want it to be you!"

"Yeah? You want Innie to be the only one that gets to cum deep in you? Want Innie to claim his puppy?" The way he talks is what pushes you over the edge and you're cumming hard around his cock, your walls gripping him as he finally abandons all caution and thrusts hard and fast up into you, chasing his inevitable high.

Your head is buried in his neck nipping at the skin when he finally cums, holding you down firmly against him as he rolls his hips up, his load buried deep inside you're now aching pussy.

He was serious about claiming you. He could never let someone else touch you after seeing you like this.

[queers-gambit]

"Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover"

prompt: ten years ago, Lucerys claimed Aemond's eye, and now, a Lannister will claim her debt.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.5k+

note: i use 'lover' because it sounds like the original line, 'mother'. also, what the fuck is this, Cherry?

warnings: very much not for minors! deranged characters? blood lust? depiction of grotesque, unhinged behavior. there's cursing, depiction of canon-typical violence and injury, show timeline and spoilers that lead into some VAGUE book references that might produce a slight AU timeline...? character death, obviously Team Green, so, there's some Team Black slander. half edited!

⚠️ season one, episode ten AND book spoilers

PLEASE BE AWARE I AM GOING TO MERGE THIS ONESHOT INTO A SMALL SERIES BUT WILL STILL LEAVE THIS UP

I AM CHANGING LANNISTER READER INTO A VELARYON READER

Rain water beaded against his leather trench overcoat, rolling off him like pellets to leave a scattered trail on the material. His boots splashed in the muddy terrain, dark castle looming tall in the stormy sky, and Mother Nature voiced her displeasure in the form of booming claps of thunder throughout the raging storm.

Long, straight hair turned unruly and crinkled in the torrential downpour; sticking to clothes and clinging to skin. His sword was latched to his weapons belt, bobbing on his hip with every stride he took to approach the Keep of The Stormlands, Storm's End.

"Identify yourself!" A guard shouted through the haze of rain.

You smirked, "Prince Aemond Targaryen, second son of King Viserys Targaryen, the Peaceful, and rider of Vhagar along with his wife, Lady Lannister."

The guards exchanged looks, then the other asked, "What business do you have here?"

"Official business that surely goes beyond your responsibility," you snapped. "We require an audience with your liege lord. Is Lord Borros in? Willing to receive? You'd do well to answer quickly, Vhagar isn't known for her patience - nor is my husband and I."

There was no dispute in leading you into the castle's throne room, members of court lingering in curiosity when they saw the One Eyed Dragon Prince and his Lady Lioness prowl through Storm's End. Lightning struck to flash through the cracks of the eery castle, creating an uneasy atmosphere and making Storm's End feel spookier then it probably was. Aemond smirked when you looked around the semi-empty throne room, the guards instructing you to stay put as their lord was fetched; you looking positively bored.

"You seem to have a natural liking towards our new status, do you not, my lioness?" He mused softly. "The way you commanded the guards to retrieve their Lord for us was very telling of your ease."

"Perhaps. Though I do not like the reason we are here, flexing our status in the first place," you told him with a sharp look. "Surely, there's other alliances to be made, Aemond. Why marry you off to some plain-faced Baratheon bitch?"

"Because war's come for us and we must all sacrifice for the cause," he sighed, staring at you without so much as twitching; letting you approach until standing chest-to-chest. "We require this pact, my love, because we must strengthen Aegon's claim. To use Daeron and I as marriage pawns feels logical given our proximity to the King."

You snarled, "You told me yourself that Aegon did not deserve to be King. Now, we must sacrifice our marriage vows for his claim?"

"I know it is not ideal," he relented, "but it's our current reality."

"Only for now, I sense the tides will turn several times before this is fucking over."

"Hmm."

When Lord Borros finally arrived, he appeared disgruntled by the abrupt arrival of you and your husband, Prince Aemond. He was grouchy, but still welcoming enough; slumped in his chair, eyeing you both, mentioning, "This must be of grave importance to arrive in such a manner, with no warning."

"It is," Aemond answered smoothly, "because war has come to shadow Westeros once more, my Lord."

"Is that so?"

"King Viserys is dead," he informed clearly, "and as such, the natural succession would've passed to the King's named heir, Princess Rhaenyra, but King VIserys had a change of heart. Instead of his daughter, the King wanted his first born son, Aegon II, to ascend the Iron Throne after him."

"And that's to do with me...?"

"The Princess will demand your loyalty, Lord Borros," you stepped in, "to uphold a stale oath your father made decades ago. Come the day, you will be forced to pick sides; yet we simply would like to offer you terms of consideration before hearing Rhaenyra's."

"If the Princess is willing to offer terms, that is," Aemond punctuated.

Borros sat still, then leaned in slightly, "And what are these terms you wish to offer, girl?"

"My Lady-wife has earned the title Princess, my Lord," Aemond corrected sharply, "and will be addressed as such."

Borros nodded stiffly, "Of course, my apologies."

"No matter," you assured. "Tell me, Lord Borros, do you not have unwed daughters?"

"I do, a gaggle of them."

You smirked, "My husband, though not King, is of ancient and rich Valyrian blood. He is happy to uphold customs of his ancestors by taking another wife - so, we offer a marriage pact in exchange for your swords and banners."

"And what of you?"

"What of me?"

"You would just let your husband wed another woman?"

"Who am I to question the will of the Gods?" You mused, figuring you wouldn't tell him how Aemond had already promised never to bed the Baratheon girl. "Should they smile upon this union, so would I. My father, may he rest in peace, before his passing ensured to instill in me a sense of duty and honor, Lord Borros, and with this civil war, we might all do our part to see the end of it."

He hummed, eyeing you both. "All right," Borros half-agreed, "but which of my daughters, hmm? I've four of them - uh," he snapped, "what is this? Someone fetch the girls! Let the Prince see - he may choose to wed whichever he deems acceptable."

"Do we have a deal, Lord Borros?" You asked.

He nodded, "Pending the Princess' terms - my father did swear fealty to Princess Rhaenyra, I would do well to honor that by at least hearing her."

"A noble answer," you accepted.

It wasn't a long wait for his four daughters to arrive, an even shorter wait for Aemond to make a decision. There was Cassandra, Maris, Ellyn, and Flora Baratheon - all ripe for the picking. "Well?" Aemond asked you.

You shrugged, "This is your choice, you're the one who has to bed her." His lips twitched in amusement, eyeing the women stood in a straight line. "Fuck's sake - why not kiss them all and chose that way? Leaves less room for surprise later. Plus what're the odds Rhaenyra's sent her envoy? We should solidify Baratheon's loyalty now."

Aemond chuckled, looking each woman over carefully as a guard entered the room. "My Lord," he called, earning the attention, "another dragon has been spotted and is approaching the Keep."

"What did I fucking say?" You smirked at Aemond.

"Receive whoever it is," Borros permitted. "And you? Have you come to a decision? My girl, Maris, there, would make a clever wife."

"I've one clever enough wife and would be overrun with another," Aemond answered wistfully. "The Lady Flora is acceptable."

"Very well," Borros nodded, "and the terms of dowry?"

You watched as Aemond pulled Flora from the line of sisters, standing to the side as he examined her. He told Lord Baratheon the number of Gold Dragons he thought his daughter was worth, the two haggling lightly over prices before Borros accepted that with the threat of war, his son might become preoccupied, so, the seat of Storm's End would be inherited by Aemond and Flora's children.

Thunder rumbled as a deal was struck.

Boots marched down the stone hall and all conversation ceased to await the newcomer with taunt curiosity. Aemond subtly turned to look at you, ignoring his pretty new intended, as a procession of guards marched into the gloomy room. You boldly stared at the arrival, feeling your heart stall in your chest when you saw it was him... That bastard... The Strong Bastard that mutilated both you and your husband a decade ago.

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon," it was announced, marching coming to an echoing halt. Aemond chose that moment to turn and present himself to the young prince who haunted your every living and dreaming nightmare. He looked startled to see you both there, the guard ending, "Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."

Against the thundering storm, Lucerys spoke timidly - as if, any louder and his voice would squeak and crack. "Lord Borros... I brought you a message from my mother... The Queen."

"Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King," Borros shot at the young prince. "Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it." He laughed at his own joke, but when none others joined, he asked Lucerys stoically, "What's your mother's message?"

The Strong Bastard just held up a scroll like the spoilt brat he was, a guard taking it from his fingers to walk it to the Stag Lord since the Prince deemed himself too important to hand deliver the message. Lord Borros sighed when he took up the scroll, looking expectingly to his court, then snapping, "Where's the bloody Maester?"

Lord Borros Baratheon could not read, you see.

So, you all waited as the Maester was retrieved; Lucerys sparing spooked looks at you and Aemond - the latter of whom just smirked in amusement. Luke couldn't truly see the disfigurement he caused, but your scars almost glittered in the flashes of lightning to assure him they were right where he left them. You turned to your husband, whispering in his ear, "Remember all those times when you promised me his eye as a gift? When shall we be presented an opportunity such as now?"

He shushed you with a restrained smirk, wanting so bad to entertain your banter - and daydream about doing to Luke what he did to you two. You told Aemond you didn't need Luke to bear a scar like your own, and that's when he promised to give you the Prince's eye.

The Maester arrived when Luke felt uneasy enough to palm a fist around the hilt of his sword, elderly man hobbling up to Lord Borros, taking the scroll, then reading it.

The Maester bent to summarize the letter to his Lord. You smirked at Aemond when Borros snapped, "'Remind' me of my father's oath? King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact! If I do as your mother bids," he leaned forward on his throne, looking to the side, asking, "which one of my daughters will you wed... Boy?"

"My Lord," Lucerys trembled, "I am not free to marry. I'm already betrothed."

"I did not realize betrothal was weighed heavier than marriage," Borros sneered, indicating to you and Aemond, "which means you come with empty hands. Go home, pup, and tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

There was a beat as his words sunk in.

"I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord," Lucerys informed, sparing everyone one last look before turning on his heel to vacate.

Yet he couldn't just walk away so easily.

"Wait," Aemond called out loud before you could, the Prince halting, "my Lord Strong." You grinned when Luke turned fully and then stepped forward to the edge of his guarded protection, a look of disbelief adorning his features. "Did you really think that you could just fly about the Realm," he continued, taking a few slow, stalking steps forward with you on his flank and Floris stepping further away, "trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?"

"I will not fight you," Lucerys declared. "I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

You giggled to mock the boy's sword skill, wanting to hurt the boy's ego as much as possible. Your husband smirked at you before musing, "A fight would be little challenge." He paused to consider his options. "No," he told Lucerys, reaching for his eye patch and pulling the leather from his head. "I want you to put out your eye," He growled, staring at Luke, sapphire winking in the low torchlight; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you at his side. He explained, "As payment for mine. One will serve," and he flipped back his leather overcoat to reveal a dagger, yanking it free to toss across the distance at Lucerys. It clattered and skidded, the sound ominous between the claps and rolling booms of thunder. "I would not blind you," he told the boy. Then, as if concealing a smirk, he finished, "Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover."

The ground shook violently when Vhagar landed outside the Driftmark Dragon Pit. The air whooshed your hair back, little feet stumbling back a few paces into the rock wall, hair on the back of your neck standing on end when Aemond dismounted the beast. It wasn't as if you weren't proud or incredibly impressed by his ability to claim the oldest dragon in the known world, but you weren't a Targaryen and dragons made you uneasy.

You could understand animals had minds of their own, and while, yes, Targaryens were closer to Gods than Men because they fly on dragons, you knew they did not control the dragons. They merely domesticated the winged terrors, but you knew the animal could snap at any moment's notice. You didn't like being so close as to become an accidental casualty, so you waited in the mouth of the Pit to give plenty of room between you and Vhagar.

"Well? How was it?"

Aemond beamed at you, "Like nothing I've ever experienced before."

"She's much, much bigger up close," you eyed the dragon watching you both. She was too large in size for the Dragon Pit, but for you, it was a way back into the Driftmark Castle; so, Vhagar was left to her own devices as you and Aemond strode inside.

"You'll have to come flying with me."

"No, no, I like the ground very much. It's safer down here."

"You'll love flying, I can all but promise you."

"If the Gods wanted me in the air, they'd of made me a Targaryen," you teased, both entering the torch-lit passage. "Alas, I am not, so, I think it wise to keep my feet on the ground."

"I'll get you on dragonback with me one day," he smirked. "She's the oldest, you know, and the largest, too."

"I know," you beamed in amusement.

"And she's mine," he whispered, shaking his head and fighting off his grin. You looped your arm with his, giggling your praise over his display of bravery; entering the division foyer of the Pit only to spy Prince Daemon Targaryen's daughters, Baela and Rhaena, with Princess Rhaenyra's sons, Jacerys and Lucerys Velaryon.

"It's them!" One barked.

"It's us," Aemond sneered quickly, understanding confrontation when he felt it. You didn't like this... Something about this exchange felt very wrong; there was four of them, two of you, and you were not their blood relative - so, why be involved at all?

"Vhagar is my mother's dragon!" Rhaena seethed.

"Your mother's dead," Aemond reminded sharply.

You smirked, tacking on, "And Vhagar has a new rider now."

"She was mine to claim!"

"Then you should've claimed her!" You barked in annoyance. "You are not the only dragon-less Targaryen, but you're the one who expects to just be gifted one!"

Aemond sneered right after you, "Maybe your cousins can gift you a pig to ride. It would suit you."

This (rightfully) angered the girls. Rhaena charged and latched onto Aemond but was easily swatted to the ground. At that same moment, her twin, Baela, took the opportunity to jab her knuckle into your nose, sending you into the dirt. "Fuck's sake!" You snapped, Aemond clocking the injury and slamming his fist against Baela's cheek to send her into the dirt, too.

Aemond helped you to your feet as he snarled at the girls, "Come at us again and I'll feed you to my dragon!"

Jace charged, and from there, it was a blur of adrenaline. Before you understood, you were defending yourself from a hurricane of fists and feet; reaching up to grab hold of Rhaena's locs and yank as hard as you could. It gave you a small advantage to get up, see the three others beating on Aemond, and rushed for the fray.

The Prince saw you and pause his resistance to let you grab hold of Baela - also pulling her so hard, a loc or two might've been ripped from her scalp. Aemond kicked Jace, you sent the girls into the dirt, and Aemond managed to catch hold of Lucerys by the throat as he got to his feet. Aemond's hand found purchase on a large rock, standing above them all as you panted from his side; rock raised in threat.

"You will die screaming in flames, just as your father did!" Aemond declared, snarling, "Bastards."

Through his whimpering, Luke sobbed, "My father's still alive!"

For a moment, Aemond appeared disarmed, but then sneered, "He doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong?"

This upset Prince Jacerys enough that he brandished a concealed dagger from his sleeve; holding it at the ready, ignoring his cousin's pleas of his name. "Blade in play," you warned Aemond.

Luke was kicked away, Jace was dodged, disarmed, then shoved to the ground. You were all bruised, bloodied, beaten; thinking that despite twice the numbers, you and Aemond managed to hold your own pretty damn well. The Prince lifted the rock again, this time with his sights set on Jace, ignoring Luke scrambling in the dirt.

Pretty damn well until it was too late.

You screamed in absolute horror when a white hot pain flashed across your face when you meant to turn away from the fight. You went down, Aemond looked over in shock and confusion, and in that moment, Lucerys swung his brother's blade again. It cut through half of Aemond's face, the eye being severed in two; blood gushing between both your hands.

Of course, this was the time the White Cloaks arrived - but it was too late. The damage was done. You sobbed uselessly as the knights tried to help you off the ground, trembling violently as adrenaline wore off. You were instantly escorted to the castle's throne room where the Maester and other attendants met you.

Guards posted.

Blood soaked into cloth.

The Queen arrived with the Hand before anyone else - instantly demanding her son (and you) be attended to at once. She listened to the shaky account of events, but it was difficult to get an accurate picture as you and Aemond were both preoccupied with being medically attended to.

You held Aemond's hand as you were both cleaned up. There was nothing to save, Aemond's eye removed and your face being pinched and stitched. Nearly 200 years from now, one of your descendants will earn nearly the exact same scar during the Battle of the Blackwater; a mark that cut through the face from temple, over the nose, to opposite ear.

You listened to the spoiled brats spin their webs, opting to remain quiet in the presence of the King.

However, after Princess Rhaenyra finally showed up with Prince Daemon, after Lord Corlys Velaryon and Lady Rhaenys Targaryen arrived, attention shifted.

" - Didn't just mutilate our son, but the Lady Lannister as well!" Alicent raged.

King Viserys eyed you as if seeing you for the first time, slowly approaching. "My Lady," he spoke softly, "you have not yet said a word this evening."

"It is not my place, Your Grace."

"It is now," he permitted. "Speak, and tell me the truth of it. What happened tonight?"

You swallowed nervously, "The Prince Aemond claimed his dragon, Vhagar, Your Grace, and upon returning, the... Uh, well, the Princes Jacerys and Lucerys along with their cousins, Ladies Rhaena and Baela, were waiting for us."

"Waiting?" Viserys repeated.

"Yes, Your Grace, I believe they wanted to see who had claimed Vhagar," you offered.

"Who hit who first?"

With a sigh, you answered, "Lady Baela hit Prince Aemond first. A solid hook, for whatever it's worth."

Alicent now approached, squatting in front of you and asking, "How did you sustain such injury, Lady Lannister? Come... Speak the truth. Tell us the meaning of this."

"Prince Jacerys brought the blade, Your Grace," you mumbled, "but it was lost in the scuffle. It was Prince Lucerys who offered injury to both Prince Aemond and I."

You could've cried when Rhaenyra, as usual, managed to somehow spin your story into making her sons the victims. Despite being told the four ambushed you two, they weren't even reprimanded because their parents were all so angry that it truly distracted from the present situation at hand. In the end, Queen Alicent snapped and charged to attack, but the Princess Rhaenyra intercepted her before damage could be done.

The blade Alicent stole from her husband's belt was dropped - but not before the tip sliced into the flesh of the Princess' forearm. You were fuming, watching them all leave; you had been seriously maimed, and so far, you had been the one spoken to as if a criminal. Rhaenyra would need stitches, sure, and a broken nose was the worst of their injuries - but Aemond lost his eye, and you?

You felt as if you lost your life because who the hell would want you now? With this scar? This big, fat, noticeable scar that split your face? Sure, your Lannister name would get you places - but not everywhere. Considering your young age, this only left time for rumors to fester and for everyone to notice your injury; being no escape and no where to hide from ridicule.

For years, you would consider yourself damaged. For years, you would mourn yourself. For years, you would sharpen your mind, wit, and intelligence because if you couldn't bring standard "beauty" to the table, you wanted to be able to offer something redeeming.

For years, you would undergo emotional turmoil before your engagement to Aemond is announced; convincing yourself you did not deserve love because your anger made you likened to a shrew. You felt ugly on the outside, ugly on the inside; a product of your environment and experiences. When the promise of marrying your best mate was bestowed, the entire court was shocked by the 180 you both did; where once stony and stoic, both were now soft and kind - but only to one another.

To everyone else, you were both still stony and indifferent. But to each other? You and Aemond would move mountains.

Yet that night on Driftmark would haunt for you for the rest of your lives; no matter the promise of love, marriage, and a 'normal' life. Late nights would be held together, fantasizing about your revenge; considering the future in which you made Lucerys Strong pay for what he did to you.

"Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover."

"No," Lucerys barked, looking distraught by the sheer idea of what Aemond demanded. His answer made the amusement drain from Aemond's features, this was a man not often told no. His hand passed you his eye patch for safe keeping; the raging storm outside portraying the tension brewing in the throne room of Storm's End.

"Then you are craven as well as a traitor."

"Not here!" Borros understood fighting words when he heard them - not wanting the repercussions of a dead or injured Prince Lucerys, because, let's face it, Luke couldn't do damage to Aemond even if he tried.

Aemond literally sprang into action, releasing his grip on you, shouting as he strode forward. "Give me your eye," he stooped to snatch his dagger from the ground, "or I will take it, bastard!"

Lucerys brandished his sword for protection, but Borros launched out of his seat to intervene by shouting, "Not in my hall!" This made Aemond skid to a halt. "The boy came an an envoy. I'll not have bloodshed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon... Now."

You smirked when Aemond just watched the boy flee the hall, hand flipping his dagger expertly before sheathing it. You met his gaze, holding prolonged eye contact to publicly show you were not afraid of him, his looks, his lack of eye, or adoration for him.

"Well, Lord Borros," you mused, turning to the Stag Lord, "looks as if you've chosen in this war."

He huffed, "We can discuss specifics later."

Aemond nodded, "We'll be off."

"Do not - "

"You said no blood shed under your roof," you reminded, "not above."

"The Prince is young and small - "

"We gave him a fair head start." Borros looked ready to rebuttal, but you snapped, "We're at war, my Lord. Either you let the dragons fight in the skies or it'll be your men fighting in the trenches. The choice is yours."

"See that? His woman bites harder than he," Maria scoffed to her sisters, only juuuuust loud enough for her voice to carry across the room. Then she snarled at your husband, "Tell me, Prince Aemond, was it just your eye Prince Lucerys took, or one of your balls, too? You threw a dagger at him and stopped when Daddy said stop," her eyes rolled, "those are not qualities of a man."

You were ready to attack. In fact, you started striding up to Maris when Aemond intercepted you swiftly with a suffocatingly strong grip. "We've more important matters," he reminded you, turning, and promising to send word to Lord Borros before disappearing out of the side door.

"How dare she," you seethed on your way to Vhagar. "That buck-tooth looking rodent dares insult you? Her own Prince? In front of others - oh, the nerve of that family!"

"Bigger picture at work here, love," Aemond mused as he fixed his patch back on, never one to address the things that were bothering him - like when someone hurt his feelings or bullied him over his missing eye.

But you were always ready to bite those that offered insult. You were a Lion in a golden cage, after all.

You grumbled the entire time, reaching Vhagar, launching as discreetly as she possibly could to scan the skies. It wasn't easy to find the Prince because his dragon blended into the storm so perfectly, but once the tiny beast was located, you were locked on. You rode behind Aemond in his saddle, both being harnessed to prevent any unseating; the combined weight never phasing his ol' girl. Vhagar understood they were in some kind of chase, and when she gave a grumble that rumbled over the thunder you flew through, Aemond gave her a command in High Valyrian to quiet herself.

You could see glimpses of Luke turning to search areas you had just vacated; loving this game of cat and mouse. You hoped the anticipation and anxiety of being watched was upsetting the Prince - just so he had a little bit of emotional trauma from this, you know? Just so he had a little taste of the emotional turmoil you had to suffer the past decade.

"Ready?" Aemond asked you.

You squeezed his waist before boldly reaching down to palm his cock through his breeches, hissing in his ear, "Do it, you owe me a gift."

Aemond grinned and directed Vhagar to circle around and fly forward until almost colliding with Lucerys - should he not've steered Arrax lower at the last moment. The close call was enough to make you both laugh, the sound traveling over the noisy nature. Aemond turned Vhagar again, trying to snatch at Arrax with her talons while your husband hurled insults and taunting phrases as his nephew.

With a small groan, you reached for a separate piece of the saddle to hold onto while Aemond drove Vhagar into a nosedive after the smaller dragon. When they came up to a cavern of sea rocks, Aemond was forced to pull Vhagar back before she could crash - but Arrax had no issue navigating into and through the canyon. You were forced to fly above it, searching for your prey once more.

Lucerys seemed to evade you for a time.

"What happens when we find him?"

"I will have the bastard's eye," he reminded you.

"Yes, but what if he resists?"

"Of course he will."

"So you mean to kill him? Is that the plan, Aemond?"

He did not answer you, looking over Vhagar's sides for his prey. He shouted in High Valyrian, "You owe a debt! Boy!"

Suddenly, from your left, Arrax descended upon Vhagar with a vicious spewing of fire that licked your flesh hatefully. Aemond flinched back into your chest, trying to shield yourselves from the heat of the flames, but it was too late. You cried out, whimpering with discomfort when the flames died; marring and mangling your skin. Prince Lucerys was heard scolding his dragon, and for a moment, you felt as if you could see the future because there was no way Vhagar was going to let that kind of disrespect occur and do nothing about it.

The ol' girl gave a rumble before bellowing after Arrax. She turned herself to where the other dragon had disappeared and started to push off as her owner begged and pleaded with her not to. "Serve me, Vhagar, no!" He commanded, desperate to keep his beast under control, but being evident these two wild animals were in an altercation all their own and meant to follow their instinct.

"We want his head still, Vhagar!" You laughed loudly, Aemond growling with a smirk.

"Do not encourage her!"

"Do not try to domesticate a 180-year-old dragon!" You gave a small whoop of excitement. "She's a Dragon of War, Aemond! Violence is what she knows!"

He grunted as he struggled with the reins. However, Vhagar ignored him and made her own turn, pumping her wings twice and then breaking into the morning sun above the storm. For a fleeting moment, it was incredibly gorgeous to be so high in the sky...

And then it was over before anyone could stop it.

Vhagar opened her mouth and gave one chomp around the body of boy and dragon. There was a shrill cry of fear before Vhagar's moan of content, then eery silence settled as half-consumed bits fell to the ground beneath.

"Well," you cleared your throat, staring at the bloody bits falling, "if it wasn't enough that Aegon took her crown, surely, the two of us taking her son will be the push Rhaenyra needs to meet us in conflict."

"No," he cleared his throat, "you were not here - "

"I was, I would not allow you to bear this burden on your own. To take the blame," you met his eye. "I encouraged this just as much, and Rhaenyra will know it was us - she'd never believe I was not involved."

"Can you not be logical right now?" He trembled, leaning his forehead to yours.

"Okay..." You whispered, "Well, could we go see if there's anything left?"

"That's morbid, my love."

"What? You're the one who promised me his eye. I know you didn't mean for this, but the truth is," you smirked, "you did. You knew what pursuing him would result in - your dragon doesn't understand your need for revenge, she understands eat or be eaten."

Aemond sighed, "Too soon for that phrase."

"Noted. Now, c'mon," you encouraged, giving his waist a squeeze. "I know you're curious to see what's left, too."

And he was, so Aemond directed Vhagar back down. It was difficult to predict where the body parts could've ended up, but seemingly, luck was on your side and you descended to the shore. There was a small scattering of remains, bits being washed up or away with every new lap of sea water.

You dismounted and started searching through the remnants, storm still outlandishly raging around you. "Love?" Aemond spoke from behind you, making you jump slightly. He smirked, "Got something for you, my Lioness."

"You do not..." He held up the messily decapitated head of Lucerys "Velaryon", your laugh surprising and genuine. "Oh, we're sooo going to Seven Hells," you sighed, shrugging, "but you know, it doesn't really get worse than what we've already done, so," you motioned for him to set the head down.

"Here," he agreed, using his dagger to harvest Lucerys' eyeballs from the skull you helped hold. When he was done, you chucked the head away before Aemond's bloody hands set both eyes in your cupped, outstretched palms; watching you weigh them.

"You know, Lannisters always pay their debts," you mused, smirk pulling at your lips, "but we also are always repaid our debts. How strange, to hold his eyes and think they were once functioning... In his head, of use, probably full of tears when Vhagar chased him in the sky."

"Hm," Aemond considered, then pointed to your hand. "It's with his eyes, I promise you, my Lioness, the fall of our enemies." He proclaimed, then musing, "Should we give Maris Baratheon one to prove ourselves?"

You smirked, "She said you must've lost your balls, right?"

"Almost positive Vhagar ate Lucerys' so we cannot present her with them."

"Damnit," you pouted. "All right, fine, sure, we might show the Baratheon's we mean war... But I'd like to keep them both, please."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"Put them in a jar and keep until I'm no longer angry about what he did to us..."

"So, his eyes are going on our mantle?"

"You bet your sweet balls," you grinned, twirling Lucerys Velaryon's Strong's organs in your hand like a pair of game dice.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[merlyn-bane]

Brought to you by ao3 being down during a slow night at work, please have the fade to black scene from chapter one of home (is where you build it), um, un-faded. Spice below the cut ;)

Obi-Wan isn’t quite certain how he ended up here.

“Ah—ah—!”

He’d managed to deliver the leftover pizza successfully, despite the debacle at the front door. The firefighters on shift had all seemed to be very grateful for the surprise of free food, despite the fact that it’d been cold and there certainly hadn’t been quite enough of it to go around. He’d been invited to come in for a bit, and watched several of the men appear to wrestle over the rights to the pizza—only to ultimately lose out to those smart enough to wait until they were distracted—while Cody and Bly introduced them by name. 

“Fuck,”

Cody’d asked him out for a drink after that, Obi-Wan remembers. Apparently he wasn’t actually scheduled to be on duty that night or something and was only there to help Bly out with—something, so he’d been free to leave. Quin had naturally been far too happy to hang out at home with the already-sleeping kids so Obi-Wan could socialize.

He certainly isn’t complaining now. 

Cody shifts between his legs, rocking up to press his mouth to the sensitive spot just under Obi-Wan’s ear once more just to listen to him gasp. He lets a bit more of his weight press down against Obi-Wan, pinning him between the solid heat of Cody’s body and the creaking leather of the front bench seat of Cody’s truck. Obi-Wan grips at Cody’s shoulders, scrambling to hold on when the other man rocks forward.

One of Cody’s hands finds its way up underneath Obi-Wan’s shirt and settles just above his hip, burning like a brand, and Cody lets out a low moan when Obi-Wan can’t help but arch up into it.

They’d gone to some—small bar, or brewery? Obi-Wan’s fuzzy on the details, now. He certainly can’t remember the name of the establishment, or even really what the beer he’d had had tasted like. All he remembers is Cody’s smile, and how easily the conversation had flowed once Obi-Wan managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

Cody’s fingers—thick, clever fingers—find the closure of Obi-Wan’s jeans, and that more or less constitutes the end of his musings on the subject.

The buttons and fly put up very little resistance, and then Cody’s pushing his pants and underwear down past his ass. Obi-Wan makes a questioning sound when he stops there rather than removing them entirely, and Cody huffs a little laugh before pushing himself up with one hand just enough to allow him to press a series of brief but heated kisses against his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Cody pants in between kisses, “I don’t have any lube or condoms on me.” Obi-Wan whines a wordless complaint high in his throat—he believes him, Cody certainly does sound very disappointed and very contrite, but Obi-Wan would rather desperately like to be fucked—and earns another breathy chuckle from the devastatingly attractive man on top of him. “I wasn’t expecting a pretty thing like you to fall into my lap tonight. I know, I know. Trust me, I really wanna fuck you, too. I bet you feel so good, Obi, fuck.” Obi-Wan whines again at the words, at the low timbre of his voice, at everything, helpless not to. Cody shushes him softly, only for Obi-Wan to buck and gasp when warm calloused fingers wrap around his cock unexpectedly. “How about this, hmm? Can I stroke you off? I bet you look so pretty when you come.”

“Damn you,” Obi-Wan swears emphatically, boiling under his skin. He bats Cody’s hand away—immediately mourning the loss—and then goes right for the other man’s belt buckle. Cody stares at him, slack-jawed, only to hiss when Obi-Wan wraps his own fingers around Cody’s cock to pull it from his underwear.

Oh, holy fuck.

Obi-Wan forcibly shakes himself from the oncoming stupor before he spends the rest of the night simply staring at the other man’s gorgeous, thick cock, ignoring the way his hole clenches around nothing with how badly he wants it inside him. They’ve already established that they can’t tonight, and if Obi-Wan doesn’t at least get to come, he may actually expire.

He takes hold of one of Cody’s hands and then makes deliberate eye-contact as he licks a broad, wet stripe across his palm. Cody’s jaw all but falls open in his surprise and—if Obi-Wan’s reading how blown his pupils have become—arousal, and Obi-Wan holds that eye-contact as he thoroughly coats Cody’s hands with as much saliva as he can manage. Cody makes a wounded noise and Obi-Wan sucks one of his fingers into his mouth; a little mean, perhaps, but he can’t help it. Honest. 

Cody growls low in his throat and then pulls his hand away from Obi-Wan’s mouth, his breathing already ragged. Both of them let out broken sounds at the first brush of their cocks together, thrusting into it, and then Cody is pumping, and pumping, his grip firm and sure and warm and every other wonderful thing, slick with Obi-Wan’s own spit as he strokes them both off together.

“Hold your shirt up for me, baby,” Cody pants out, “I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Obi-Wan moans but somehow manages to find the brain power in between thrusting up into Cody’s hand and against his cock, fisting the bottom hem of his top and yanking it up clear past his collarbone. Cody groans as his nipples are exposed, pebbled already, and squeezes just a little tighter—

Obi-Wan gives it up with a ragged cry and Cody follows right behind him, ropes of their combined spend painting Obi-Wan’s stomach and chest.

“Shit,” Cody breathes out, and Obi-Wan can’t help but agree. 

[scarletaqua]

Muse

G!p Bada Lee x Fem! Reader

Y/n needs a model for a project…

Word count: 1736

Part 1, Part 2

——————————

“As you all know, your final project is coming up. You need to find someone to model your designs, and submit the photos to me, class dismissed”

Y/n pack her things up neatly and put them in her bag. She totally forgot about the project, and with only a month left to hand it in, she didn’t know where to find someone to be her muse.

“Hey, you okay? You seem stressed out” Y/n’s best friend, Noze, said.

“Huh? No, not really. I totally forgot about the project now I don’t even know where to begin.” Y/n replied while walking out the classroom beside Noze.

“Designing is easy, I mean, for you it is. You’re the best in class. The problem is finding someone who’s willing to be your mannequin.”

Y/n hangs her head from frustration, sure she can think of designs quickly but she needs the perfect fit for her designs. She was thinking of making a masculine look for her project. And like Noze said, it’s gonna be hard to find someone to wear her designs.

“I know, Noze. How about you? Do you already have someone in mind?”, Noze tilts her head, thinking.

“I do have someone but she’s a teacher. She would look perfect for my project. I still need to ask her.”

Y/n knew who Noze’s talking about, it’s Ms. Monika, the dance teacher. Noze showed Y/n her designs, pointing out her centrepiece. Noze’s designs showcase a mix of female empowerment and elegance.

“Ooh! Since you wanted to design masculine clothes for women, how about picking someone from the dance class”

“I guess, I mean we could try. Do you know anyone there that would fit?”

Y/n and Noze stopped in front of her car, putting all their belongings in the trunk of Noze’s car and locking it. They made their way to the dance studio just behind their building. Noze said that they’re having their weekly freestyle battle right now. Y/n thought she might find actually find someone once she came in the studio. Most of the people’s fashion have some sort of masculinity in them.

“So? What do you think, Y/n? Find someone?”

“Hmm, I’m still looking. If you can introduce me to some of them, that would be great.”

“Sure sure. I know some of them.”

Y/n lets herself get dragged by Noze as she tries not to trip. There’s only a few people left in the studio as most of the people earlier were students who wanted to watch the battle. Y/n felt Noze slowed down and pulled her to her side. In front of her were a bunch of girls sitting on the floor, some of them are partly passed out.

“Hey Noze! Long time no see!”

“Aiki, we live in the same dorm room.”

Noze introduced Y/n to the crew as she tries to shove Aiki away from her. This is the first time Y/n have seen Noze refuse physical contact. Aiki, on the other hand, continues her stunt.

“So, Y/n right? I’ve never seen you around here before. I’m Lee Jung by the way. First time?”

“Yes, Noze said I might find someone to help me with my project”

“Ooh, what kind of project?” Y/n looked at the person and saw a giant. Maybe not a giant, but for her, and her height, it was a giant.

“O-oh, I need someone to be my muse.”

“Is that so? You got your pick?”, Y/n for some reason can’t keep eye contact with this person. She looked down at her shoes and her hands on her back.

“I’m still not sure, I need someone that would fit a masculine design.”

“I’ll be your muse.” Y/n looked up ready to thank the taller girl. She unknowingly took a few minutes checking her out, imagining the way her designs would look on the taller girl. Her height would definitely accentuate her designs, she thought.

“Hmm…I think that would be great.”

“Great, when should we start?”

“As soon as possible, what’s your availability?”

The taller girl sat down and invited Y/n to sit down on the floor beside her as well. They talked about their availability for the project, ignoring the stares of the people inside the studio. Y/n describes her designs to Bada, talking excitedly. Bada, on the other hand, was just admiring the way Y/n talks. As both of them succumbed in their own world, Noze and Aiki settled down behind them.

“Bada’s so whipped” Aiki whispered to Noze.

“I admit, they do look cute together” Noze whispered back.

“What are you guys whispering about?” Lee Jung asked, sitting beside Noze.

“I was talking about how our leader looked so whipped right now” Aiki answered.

“Ohhh, that’s true. She even insists on helping Y/n with her project”

Y/n and Bada decided to meet up after school tomorrow in Y/n’s apartment. They thought it would be easier since Y/n’s things are already there. Noze and Y/n bid their goodbye to the group and made their way back to the parking lot.

Back in the studio, Bada stood by the door smiling to herself. It’s like her smile is permanently attached to her face. She turned around and saw her members smirking at her with their arms crossed.

“So Y/n huh?”

“Leave me alone, Lee”

Bada started packing her things up trying to get away from her members as quickly as possible. She swings her bag behind her and waddles out of the studio. Aiki and Lee Jung laugh at their leader’s actions.

The next day…

Bada couldn’t wait to see Y/n again, so she stood by Y/n’s classroom door waiting for her class to end. She fixes her outfit, tryna look presentable in front of Y/n.

“Bada? What are you doing here?” Bada turned her head and faces Y/n.

“I was waiting for you. I thought we could go together” Y/n smiled at Bada,she pulled Bada beside her and clings on to her arm.

“Let’s go then!” Bada looked at Y/n beside her, and smiled to herself.

Y/n and Bada walked side by side, their arms still intertwined together. The conversation is full of Y/n’s rant about her professor and her project. Bada didn’t mind it at all, in fact she enjoyed it. Y/n’s apartment is only a few blocks away from their school. They decided to buy some snacks and some drinks in a convenience store beside her apartment.

“Hey Bada, what kind of snacks do you want?” Y/n leaned down in one of the aisles, accidentally pulling Bada down as well. “Oops sorry”

Y/n unlink her arm to looked at the snacks properly. Bada did not like the sudden change, but she was shy to ask Y/n to link their arms again. She settled with pinching a part of Y/n shirt, clutching it. She looked like a kid waiting for her mom to finish. Y/n laughed at Bada’s behaviour, she did not mind Bada being clingy with her.

“I think this is enough, let’s go”

Bada paid for the snacks and drinks even though Y/n insisted on paying. They made their way to Y/n’s apartment and settled on the living room. Y/n places her designs on the table in front of Bada, explaining her approach to the project.

“So I already have some sketches, I might need to make some changes to fit it with your style. I also need to take your measurements”

“Sure where do we start?”

Y/n asked Bada if she’d be comfortable wearing her designs. Bada nodded her head and stood up to let Y/n write down her measurements. Y/n began measuring Bada, standing on the couch to meet Bada’s height. Bada can’t help but to chuckle at Y/n, looking so cute tiptoeing even though she’s already standing on the couch. Y/n snaked her hands around Bada, bringing the measuring tape around her. Y/n hands are fixing the tape’s position around Bada’s chest part. Bada froze in her spot, holding her breath. Y/n notices this and places her hand on Bada’s back.

“Breathe, Bada”

Bada tries to normalize her breathing, letting Y/n work. Y/n wrote down Bada’s measurement and proceeded to measure her waist and her hips. Bada felt herself being lightheaded but she stood her ground. Y/n jumps down from the couch to measure Bada’s legs, kneeling down beside Bada. By now, Bada’s whole face is flushed. Her whole body is in heat. She can feel herself getting hard from all the measuring. She immediately sat down and covered her lap with a pillow once Y/n finished her measurements.

“You okay? Why are you sweating?”

“O-oh yeah, I’m okay!”

“Hmmm”

They both proceed with Y/n’s project, well just Y/n, Bada just sat on the couch watching Y/n. Bada focuses her attention on the snacks that they bought earlier, stuffing her face with gummies. Y/n saw this and asked Bada to leave some for her. Giving her some every few minutes.

Y/n finished most of her designs, putting it on her binder. She turns to look at Bada to see her sleeping on the couch. Y/n stood up from the floor and sat down beside Bada. She made sure not to make too much noise, as she was scrolling through her phone, she felt Bada’s head on her shoulder. Y/n places her hand on Bada’s cheek to help her lean on her. They stayed in that position for a while, Y/n gently placing her head against Bada, lulling herself to sleep. Bada suddenly sat up, and looked around. Y/n smiled at Bada and told her she fell asleep.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n”

“It’s alright, Bada. I fell asleep too, we can continue this tomorrow.”

Bada nodded her head and gathered her things, they walked towards the door, bidding each other good bye and good night. Y/n readies herself to go to bed, when she receives a text. It was from Bada.

Bada: Hey, I just wanna say sorry about earlier. I got your number from Noze btw. Okay goodnight 😊

Y/n: I told you it’s alright. Have a Good night too❤️

—————————

This one is a two-parter. I’m so sorry for not updating for almost a week.

Anyway enjoy reading this one, I’m working on the next part☺️

[jae-bummer]

GG

Request: can i get wonwoo and #20 please? (fluffy haired online gamer boy)

Prompt:

20) You and your bias have become online friends who have never seen each other...until the day you decide to meet.

Pairing: Seventeen Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"WannaWoo," you sang into your mic. "What inspired your gamer tag?"

"It's because my name is Wonwoo," his deep voice said matter-of-factly. "You know that."

"No shit," you laughed. "But why not something else?"

"Why is yours KillerQuiche?" he mused.

"Because it was an autogenerated recommendation and I was thirteen," you grinned. "And at the time, I may or may not have misunderstood what a quiche was."

"And you've just stuck with it? All of this time?"

"Brand continuity. And it gives me ample opportunity to say, "Unleash the KillerQuiche,"" you laughed. "You have to admit, it gets our opponents pretty nervous."

"Or excited because they think they're about to win against a pair of thirteen-year-olds," he hummed.

"And then we devastate them," you chimed. "Because we make a great team!"

"More like give them a false sense of security," he chuckled. "But I suppose we make a pretty alright team."

"Be careful," you grinned. "That sounded dangerously close to a compliment."

"I compliment you all the time!" he gasped.

"Saying "good game" when we win hardly counts as a compliment," you argued.

""Good" is a positive descriptor," he muttered. "It totally counts."

"Fine," you sighed. "I'll allow it."

This wasn't the first time you had gone fishing for actual praise. Something like "Gosh, Y/N! You're so smart" or "Y/N, I know I'm Facetiming you at 2AM, but you look ravishing." Hell, you'd even settle for some variation of "Congratulations, you don't look like a rat today." To say you were thirsty for your friend's attention was an understatement. There had been a drought since the moment you had "met".

You had been long distance friends with Wonwoo for years and he hadn't realized that you were completely in love with him, despite your best efforts. Any attempts at flirting were just that, attempts. The one time you thought he was coming on to you, he was actually sweet talking a locked chest he was trying to open in a game.

At one point, you had considered that maybe he realized how you felt and was keeping you at arm's length to avoid an awkward let down. After you got to really know him though, you quickly understood that he was just reserved and in his head about things that did not concern you. Understanding emotions was not his strong suit, so picking up on them was nearly impossible. That's why he thrived in his digital persona. The worlds the two of you created and navigated were logical and safe. Things were risky when he became friends with you outside of the internet.

"Hey, Y/N?" Wonwoo's voice rumbled over the line. You had just entered the lobby of a game you often enjoyed playing together, so you assumed he was ready to strategize.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to meet up?"

Furrowing your brow, you adjusted your headset to make sure you were hearing him clearly. "Like...have a designated time we do a video call or something?"

"No," he continued earnestly. "Like meet up."

"I'm sorry, I must be lagging," you said quietly. "We do not live in the same area, Wonwoo."

"Astute observation," he hummed, the tone giving away that he was clearly amused. "I've heard of this incredible invention. You see, it's this giant metal contraption that people actually get inside! And the technology it uses-"

"While I have no earthly idea how an airplane actually works, I don't need you to explain it to me," you rushed out. "Are you saying you want to meet in person?"

"No, I'm saying we should designate a time we do a video call or something."

"Wonwoo!" you whined. You felt like you were having an out of body experience. This was a request you never saw coming.

The man across the line erupted in laughter. You stared blankly at the screen, completely disregarding the cue to jump from the virtual plane and onto the map.

"Is this a joke? If this is a joke, I'm going to be really upset with you."

"It's not a joke!" he sighed. "I've wanted to meet you in person for a while. I hope you feel the same way about me."

"Of course I do!" you gasped. You hoped the "I've probably wanted this longer and more fervently than you" was implied by your tone.

"I was thinking I could come to you," he proposed. "I don't feel comfortable with making you travel so far by yourself."

"I'm more than capable-"

"I did not say you weren't," he cut in. "It's other people I'm worried about."

You felt your heart do a little spin. You weren't used to hearing him be protective. "Okay," you conceded. "But I won't have you pay for a hotel. You can stay in my guest room."

There was a short pause before Wonwoo cleared his throat. "I appreciate that."

Well, that was odd.

"Unless I"m totally overstepping," you added. "If you don't feel comfortable-"

"It sounds great, Y/N," he said much more confidently this time. "Now let's talk logistics."

After refusing to coordinate a plan while he continued to play video games (even when he argued how excellent he was at multitasking), the two of you finally worked out a schedule. In a month's time, he would get on a plane and end up in the same city as you. You'd pick him up, he'd sleep at your apartment, and hijinks would ensue.

As you told him goodnight and logged off for the evening, it felt like you were floating on air. In your wildest dreams, you would have never imagined that Wonwoo would be the one to propose meeting in person. You had thought about it dozens of times, but never wanted him to feel pressured. Plopping onto your bed, you stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine what it would be like. Attempting to picture his tall, broad frame navigating life beside you, sent your heart tumbling to your toes. The simple intricacies of life seemed to be so much more important when you factored him into the equation. This would either be the best week of your life or the most awkward.

Knowing Wonwoo, it would probably be a happy mixture of both.

..

You shifted nervously from foot to foot, your stomach tying and untying itself into knots. You weren't sure if you were going to pass out, or spontaneously combust. When Wonwoo had insisted that he fly hours to see you, you had welcomed the idea. Now you were lightheaded and questioning every decision you had ever made to get to this point.

"It'll be fine," you muttered to yourself as you readjusted the balloons you held from one hand to the other. "It's just Wonwoo."

It being "just" Wonwoo was exactly your problem. Wonwoo wasn't "just" anything. He was multitudes. In all of the years that you had known him, he had made you feel the gamut of emotions. He was the truest friend you could ever hope for and the most clueless crush to stumble into your heart.

Keeping a watchful eye on the door marked "Arrivals," you nearly stopped breathing as you saw a face you recognized. Easily a head taller than the people walking around him, he was wearing a bright yellow beanie (so you'd know it was him - as if you wouldn't be able to identify him in any universe). It took mere seconds of him looking around for his eyes to lock on yours, a close-lipped grin on his lips.

From there, it felt like your mind had entered an intensely realistic daydream. Hurrying his steps, Wonwoo strode over until he was standing only inches away. The open expression on his face definitely signaled that he was waiting for you to make the first move. Lifting his arms slightly he breathed. "I'm here."

"You're here!" you all but screeched as you launched toward him. Wrapping yourself around his torso, you were amazed with how he could smell so good after being in the air for multiple hours. You nuzzled your face into his oversized t-shirt and let out a contented sigh.

Smacking at the balloons you still held, he navigated around them to snake his long arms around you. Shimmying in closer, he rested his chin on the top of your head. "A moment that's been years in the making."

You were surprised as you felt a soft kiss on your scalp. Leaning away from him, you looked up with wide eyes. "Wonwoo?"

"I didn't realize I could actually miss someone I had never met," he chuckled, shaking his head. Pushing up his glasses, he stared down fondly at you. "Is it...is it okay if I kiss you?"

You couldn't stop your mouth from popping open in surprise. Would it look bad if you pinched yourself to make sure this wasn't in fact a stress-induced mental break?

Wonwoo furrowed his brow as he searched your face. "I just...I just thought...Did I read the moment wrong? Oh god, I did, didn't I?"

The reality of the situation crashed into you with surprising force. Stepping forward to wrap him in your arms again, you cautiously glanced up. The last thing you wanted him to think was that he had crossed a boundary and made you uncomfortable. "Sorry, no, you didn't read the moment wrong. I was just...surprised?"

"Surprised?" he asked, still clearly confused.

"Well, uh," you said quietly. "You've never really given me any indication that you were romantically interested?"

"What?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "What do you mean? Y/N, we've known each other since we were teenagers at this point. You're impossible not to fall in love with."

"...in, in love?" you croaked. This was all terribly new information.

"I had just assumed..." he said, growing smaller the more he talked. "I assumed we were...kind of...a couple?"

You continued to stare at him.

"You flirt with me all the time!" he offered. "And I flirt back!"

"In what world do you flirt back?" you laughed. Maybe you really were going through a mental break. Had he really known you had been flirting with him this entire time?

"I tease you," he muttered. "And I try to say sweet things, but every time I think I've come up with something good, it comes out wrong."

"I had no idea," you whispered. "But Wonwoo, I feel exactly the same."

"Oh," he huffed, now trying to process the whirlwind of information that had been exchanged. "Well, excellent!"

"Just...can you try to be a little more obvious with your attempts to romance me?" you laughed. Apparently, you had been the clueless one all along.

"I'm more than happy to try," he said, a cautious smile finding its way back to his lips. "I have your favorite compliment geared up and ready."

"Oh? And what's that?"

He prodded your cheek with his nose, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest on your temple. "Good game, KillerQuiche."

[sydsaint]

Pretty Boy with a heart of gold. I just know it <3

Summary: The reader has an unpleasant encounter while at the airport. Luckily for her, Austin isn't afraid to get in someone's face on her behalf.

You lug your bag over your shoulder and wave at the Uber drivers as an extra thanks before he drives off. You're about two hours early for your flight out but airports are like your second home by now.

You head for the airport lounge to wait and find an empty seat to relax in. The lounge is quiet and cozy, calming music playing from over at the bar. You fish your laptop out of your bag as well as your headphones to get some work done while you're waiting.

About half an hour later you start to get the odd feeling that you're being watched. You glance up from your laptop and catch some guy staring at you from a few tables away. "Hmm?" You hum and narrow your gaze at the man, causing him to look away. "Okay?" You muse and get back to work.

The uneasy feeling that you're being watched doesn't seem to go away. You glance up and find the same guy staring at you a few more times before you finally have enough. You pack up your bag and head off to find another part of the spacious lounge to wait.

"Okay, that's better." You head up to the loft part of the lounge and find an empty table by a window to settle down in.

You get your laptop out again and get back to work. But the uneasy feeling soon returns to you. You once again glance up and find the same man from before now sitting on the other side of the loft.

"What the fuck." You mumble to yourself.

Creeped out, you pack your bag back up quietly. You wait a few moments before you head out of the lounge. You make the trek across the area and head into a different lounge that you've got a membership too.

"There." You sigh as you take a seat. "He shouldn't be a problem anymore." You smile to yourself at the though of finally being able to relax and do some work.

Another 15 minutes pass by as you reply to a few emails and look at a few other things online. You beg to get thirsty and decide to go grab a drink. After packing your laptop up you head for the bar. But when you get over to the service desk you spot the same man again leaning against the bar.

Your eyes widen in surprise and you take a small step back. The man turns and nods towards you with a smile that creeps you out. Getting security crosses your mind, but then you spot a friendly face sitting at a table a few feet away.

"Austin, hey!" You walk over to the table and away from the man at the bar.

"Hmm? Oh, hey, YN." Austin looks up from his phone and smiles when he sees you. "What's up?" He asks you casually.

You walk over to the table and shrug. "Just waiting for my boarding time." You answer him. "Mind if I sit?" You ask him.

"Sure." Austin nods.

You take a seat at the table and cautiously glance behind you to see if you're still being pursued. The same man from before remains in his seat, observing you intently from over the top of his phone.

You swallow and turn back to Austin with an uneasy feeling. Austin starts chatting with you about work and his new alliance with Grayson for a while, which takes your mind off of things for a moment.

"You've been feuding with Liv, right, YN?" Austin switched the subject to you for a minute.

"Yeah, we're fighting about who get's Bayley and her title at the next PLE." You nod.

Austin nods with a dashing smile. "Right on." He grins. "I'm sure you'll get the match, YN. You're great in the ring." He compliments you.

"Thanks Austin." You grin back at him.

You and Theory chat some more about work and some other stuff before Austin dismisses himself to the bathroom. You watch him walk off and decide to check your phone while you wait. You aren't alone looking at your phone for long when you start to get an uneasy feeling once again. You cautiously glance up from your phone and find the your stalker has moved a few tables closer to you.

"Hello." You reluctantly nod at the man with a friendly smile. You don't want to set the guy off by ignoring him. But you don't want anything to do with him either.

"Hi, YN." The creepy guy perks up at your response. "I'm your biggest fan!" He beams. "You're even hotter in person by the way. Way better looking than all those other girls you work with." He attempts to compliment you.

You silently cringe and nod. "Thanks." You keep your response short.

"I saw you hanging out with Austin Theory." The guy continues chatting with you, despite your visible discomfort. "Personally I don't like him." He frowns. "The guy is a total tool. And he's dumb. A girl like you should be with someone smart that can appreciate you for your beauty and intelligence." He smiles at you in a way that makes your skin crawl. "I bet he's like trying to chat you up over here, huh? What a douche right?"

"Right..." You reply and silently begin trying to figure out a way out of this mess. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But my flight is boarding soon so I should get going." You lie and rise to your feet.

The guy nods and gets to his feet as well. "Oh yeah, of course." He nods. "Say, I don't suppose that I could get a picture with you by any chance before you go?" He asks you.

"Oh...yeah, sure." You reluctantly nod.

You begrudgingly allow the stranger to take out his phone and step uncomfortably close to you. You try and block out how creeped out you are and put a smile on your face for the photo. The guy wears a creepy smile and throws his arm around you at the last second, grazing your ass as he does.

The picture gets snapped and you step back over to your stuff. The guy rambles about this being the best day ever and that he's going to be sure and tag you in the photo.

"Yeah, have a nice day." You nod and try not to gag in front of him.

Austin comes back over to the table a few second later with a puzzled and concerned look on his face. "You alright, YN?" Theory asks you. "You look like you're about to throw up."

"Yeah, I'm fine." You nod and take a deep breath. "Just...fans." You grumble to yourself.

"You talking about that guy in the blue shirt?" Austin replies and nods subtly over to the guy. "I saw you taking a picture with him when I came out of the bathroom. And it looked awkward." He explains.

You huff and nod. "Yep, that about sums up most of my male fans unfortunately." You sigh. "Guy even went to cop a feel when he swung his arm around me." You try to joke about the whole situation.

"What?" Austin replies. "That fucker! You want me to go talk to him?" He offers?

"No, Austin." You shake your head. "It's fine. He won't be the last creepy fan, I'm sure." You assure him.

Austin nods and the two of you decide to head out of the lounge and down to the terminal before boarding.

You've always liked Austin. You've had the pleasure of working a bunch of events with him, and the guy is a total sweetheart. He's just your type too. You've just never gotten around to asking him out.

About 20 minutes before boarding you and Austin are comparing workout routines when you spot someone walk into the terminal. The same creepy guy AGAIN. Your eyes widen in surprise and you mumble something to yourself.

"What was that, YN?" Austin asks when you mumble.

"He's back, again." You reply and nod behind Austin.

Austin glances over his shoulder and scoffs when he spots the guy. "Damn. Really dude?"

"He's been stalking me for like three hours now." You admit. "Guy just doesn't know when to quit I guess." You shrug.

"Wait." Austin turns back to you. "Three hours? So he didn't just run into you at the lounge?" He asks you.

You shake your head and explain to Austin that you saw the guy when you first arrived and how he's been following you. You watch Austin's look of concern turn into one of anger

"Oh that guy is so fucking done." Austin rises to his feet.

"Austin." You get up as well and try to stop him.

Austin shakes his head and puts a hand on your arm. "He's got no right to be following you around some like damn dog." He insists. "You're a human being, not some animal here for his entertainment. And I'm about to put him in his place."

Austin turns around and stomps off toward the guy. You hurry off and look for a security guard in case something breaks out. When you come back to the terminal with the guard Austin is all in the creepy guys face. You can't quite hear what Austin is telling him, but you can tell that he's pissed.

The security guard heads over and breaks up the confrontation. Austin lets the guard know that he was just trying to get this guy off your back.

"This creep has been following her around all afternoon." Austin glares at the guy like he's about to start swinging.

"Is that true, ma'am?" The guard turns to you.

You look at the guy who is now glaring at Austin. "Yes, sir, he has." You nod. "He's been making me feel really uncomfortable all afternoon." You explain.

The guard nods and steps off to the side of the group to call someone else over to help. You step over to Austin and check to make sure he's not about to get into a fist fight in an airport over you of all people.

"Really? You're actually into some overhyped fuckboy like this guy?" The creepy guy sneers at you when you check on Austin. "I thought you were so much better than that, YN."

"Hey! You better shut your fucking mouth!" Austin steps in front of her. "I ain't playing around you loser! If I hear another word out of that ugly ass mouth about YN, I'm gonna kick your ass."

The security guard steps back in and separates everyone. You and Austin are escorted away since you both have the right paperwork for the terminal you're standing in. You watch the creepy guy get escorted back behind the security desk by two guards.

"Thanks for that, Austin." You thank Theory for defending you like he did. "I don't think I've ever have a guy threaten to kick someone ass in an airport terminal for me." You joke.

"Awe, it was no problem, YN." Austin chuckles. "Guys like that piss me off." He admits. "Are you alright?" He asks you. "I didn't mean to freak you out with all that yelling."

You nod with a cheesy smile. "Yeah, I'm good." You assure him. "Would you call me weird if I told you that I was kind of hot? Watching you get all in that guys face like that?" You ask him.

"Not at all." Austin laughs with you. "Look at who you're talking to baby." He jokes. "I'm Austin Theory."

"Okay." You laugh. "Where are you at on the plane? Maybe we can switch seats and sit together." You suggest.

[lovelynim]

Reasonable funding

Honkai: Star Rail - Yanqing & Jing Yuan

A/N: Happy birthday @otomiyaa!!! I'm not really sure if this will be a good gift, but I know you've been feeling in the HSR mood lately so... I hope you like this! ~

Wish you the very best and many, many years!

Summary: Yanqing tries to convince the general to fund him another a new sword.

Word count: 1752 words

“General, I’d like to ask for- no, that’s not going to work,” Yanqing groaned, walking from one side of the room to the other. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, his foot tapping at the wooden floor while he tried to come up with a better phrasing for his… request.

It wasn’t like it was unreasonable or absurd, Yanqing thought to himself, of course not. He just needed to find the right arguments, but Jing Yuan would understand him. Or so he hoped.

The young swordsman sighed, going through the little script he quickly made up in his mind again. “ahem, general, I want to ask you- I mean, need to… hmm, maybe I should start it in some other way?” He talked to himself out loud, holding his chin while drifting into further contemplation of that matter.

Just how hard could it be?!

Yanqing had went through the same lines at least 10 times in the last hour, explaining to his imaginary picture of Jing Yuan how important it was for him, as the Cloud Knight Lieutenant, to keep an updated arsenal and, above that, the benefits that acquiring the newly-released sword - the Sunset Pierce - would bring to his training and development as a whole.

Of course, it would cost a bit more money that he currently had in hands, but as his mentor, it fell on Jing Yuan’s responsibilities to help him fund that sword. Right, Yanqing nodded to himself, this made sense, yes.

Still, why did it feel so hard to find the right words to talk to the actual general?

No, he could make it. The first defeat is the one that comes from within your own mind, Yanqing reminded himself. He could do it, he just needed to prepare himself a bit more and Jing Yuan would, surely, agree to fund his reasonable request.

Taking a deep breath, the lieutenant slapped his own cheeks before stare into an empty corner of the room - now full of determination. “General,” he started, fixing his posture and holding one hand behind his back while gesturing with the other - just like Jing Yuan himself would do during his speeches, “I’m sure you’re aware of the approach of the Luminary Wardance Ceremony-”

“Yes, I am,” Jing Yuan mused with a smile on his face while making Yanqing squeal and jump like a scaredy cat. The general chuckled, continuing to slowly walk into his office. “What’s the matter about it?”

“G-General, I- ahm, I wasn’t expecting you… to be back… so soon…” He stuttered, his voice only going quieter and quieter as all his planning was turned into shambles before his very own eyes. 

Jing Yuan cocked his head, watching his apprentice with curiosity, “the meeting didn’t take as long as it usually does this time. Anyway, I heard you calling me. I suppose there is something that needs my attention?”

“No- I mean, yes, there… is,” Yanqing nodded, coughing to fix up his voice tone and try to look more presentable - and convincing - before the general and, hopefully, future sponsor. “I’d like to talk to you about the preparations for the Wardance.”

“I’m listening,” Jing Yuan smiled, amusing himself with how Yanqing spoke.The lieutenant nodded, continuing with his report while taking random steps around the office.He already had Jing Yuan’s attention and a good excuse to bring up his personal collection arsenal. He could do it!

“To have a better performance and proper execution of my techniques - which will be representing not only your teachings, but the whole Luofu - I believe we should…”

“We should..?” Jing Yuan continued, taking his seat in the office and resting his elbow on the chair’s armrest.

“R-review my current equipment. After all, I-I can’t fight with swords in a poor state, yes?” Yanqing stopped, looking at his general with expectant eyes. As approval sparked up in Jing Yuan’s face, the lieutenant took it as a sign for him to go on with his rambling reporting. “So, knowing you have a tight schedule and other important affairs to take care of, I went ahead and checked the condition of the swords in the inventory myself.”

“Oh, how productive. And what are your conclusions?” Jing Yuan asked and leaned back in his seat. He could already see where this was going, but he’d still like to hear the arguments Yanqing made up this time.

“O-of course, ahem, most of the swords are in good - i-if not excellent - condition, but-”

“But?” Jing Yuan almost gasped, feigning surprise, “did you encounter a problem within your arsenal?”

“I-it’s not really a problem, but… one of the swords isn’t in as good condition as the other five…”

“So?”

“So, well…” Yanqing stopped in front of Jing Yuan, taking one last deep breath to gather enough courage to utter his request, “Ineedmoneytobuyanewswordandreplaceit!”

Jing Yuan blinked, stunned. He shook his head, chuckling, “I beg your pardon, lieutenant Yanqing. What did you say? I couldn’t understand it.”

Ugh!

“I… need- I mean, I’d like to ask- no, I’d like to count on you funding its replacement.”

There it is, Jing Yuan thought. The general closed his eyes and hummed softly, pretending to be deeply contemplating Yanqing’s request. If he wasn’t exactly sure, but he could swear he “funded” a new sword not long ago and, honestly, couldn’t help but doubt about the actual needs of a replacement. Wasn’t Yanqing’s room filled with dozens of swords already?

“I understand, lieutenant Yanqing,” Jing Yuan sighed, peeking at the boy’s reaction through half closed eyes, “I agree with your line of thought. It’s, indeed, important to make sure all the equipment is in good shape before the Wardance.”

“R-really?!- ahem, I-I’m glad you do, general,” he nodded, trying to contain his excitement and stop a silly smile from spreading on his face, “about the value-”

“But,” Jing Yuan interrupted him, lifting a finger in the air, “I’d like to test you. Your resolve on this matter, to be precise. If you fulfill my expectations, then I’ll ‘fund’ the replacement.”

“S-surely, general. It’s… a reasonable condition, yes,” Yanqing nodded and watched carefully as Jing Yuan got up from his seat and walked around the room, stopping in front of one of the shelves.

Jing Yuan hovered his hands over a couple items before grabbing a Devastator Glaive - one of the standard weapons of the Cloud Knights. As he walked towards Yanqing with the weapon in hand, the lieutenant couldn’t help but wonder what kind of test the general had come up with. A spar? A mission?

“I want you to hold the glaive,” Jing Yuan ordered, handing the weapon to his apprentice who eagerly took it and held it close to his chest.

“L-like this?”

“Not quite,” Jing Yuan chuckled, grabbing the weapon on the spot between Yanqing’s hands and lifting it above the boy’s head, “up here. Yes, this should suffice. Now, ready for the test?”

Yanqing was a bit confused, truth to be told. What did holding a glaive had to do with his new sword? How could this be a test of anything?

“You need to hold the glaive above your head for… a minute. If you can do so, I’ll pay- ah, pardon me, fund your sword replacement. Understood?”

“Yes, general,” Yanqing nodded again, clenching his hands around the glaive’s pole. His training used to include ten thousand sword’s swings, this was a piece of cake. “Whenever you are read-AH!”

Before he could even finish his line, Yanqing was caught off guard by a finger swiping down his armpit. “G-general?”

“Don’t worry, I already set the timer,” Jing Yuan chuckle, reaching out to Yanqing again and wiggling his finger over the exposed spot again, “remember, you can’t drop the glaive or lower your arms.”

“B-but- aHAHaha, g-geheneral this is- hehehey!” Yanqing whined through shy giggles, stomping his feet and twisting left and right - nearly knocking a few things down - as he tried to evade the tickling. This was the test?!

Jing Yuan couldn’t help but to laugh along. “You didn’t complain when I explained the terms, what’s the matter now?” He teased, admiring the way Yanqing battled against his body’s reflexes and tried to stick to the rules. “If you can’t ‘protect’ a simple glaive, I don’t think I can trust you with a new sword.”

“I-I cahAHAhan, i-it juhuhust tihihickles!” Yanqing protested, pressing his face into his arm while trying to contain the smile in his lips. “H-how muhuhuch time leheheft?!”

“It’s been barely 20 seconds. We can stop if you feel like giving up,” Jing Yuan said as if trying to comfort his student, but his hands continued to tickle those unprotected armpits and ribs - not with his life, but rather his wallet on the line.

“NOHohohoh! I cahahan’t do it!” The boy nearly roared while more panicked giggles poured from his lips. Despite trying to keep his arms stretched out above his head, Yanqing couldn’t help but to arch his back and move around in vain attempts to make Jing Yuan’s assault tickle any less.

30, 40, 45… the seconds went by one after the other and Yanqing was already feeling like he would collapse at any moment. His arms threatened to falter, with his elbows trembling and the glaive’s pole already pressing against the top of his head. Still, he was so close, just a little more..!

“EHEhe- g-gehEHenerahal!! Tihihime’s uhuhup!” Yanqing giggled, his voice probably being heard on the other side of the Seat of Divine Foresight’s hall. “St-stohohop it!”

“Oh, has it been a minute already?” Jing Yuan mused, poking Yanqing one last time before checking the little timer. “A minute and ten seconds, indeed. You even overdid it, lieutenant. I’m proud of you.”

“H-hahh… d-don’t tease me like t-this again, please,” Yanqing wheezed, using the glaive’s pole to support himself and keep his body on his feet. Despite the tinglish feeling still running over his body, the sense of achievement was the actual reason behind his smile at that moment. “S-so, can I count on your funding?”

“You earned it, it’s only fair,” Jing Yuan chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair, “you may contact the smith in charge of the project and send me the receipt, ok?”

“T-Thank you, general!” Yanqing beamed, hurrying to the shelf to retrieve the weapon used in his trial, “I won’t disappoint you!”

You never do, Jing Yuan thought… Now, how should he explain the new expenses to Fu Xuan? Sigh, this was a problem for another time…

[tadpolesonalgae]

Degraded[*]

Nesta x reader

a/n: I haven’t written anything unhinged in a while

warnings: degradation, manipulation on Nesta’s part, slight dubcon because of that, reader having a vague cnc kink, also a bit of a fear kink, dumbification,  heavy d/s dynamics, collar + leash, intense humiliation, squirting, slight overstim, orgasm denial, Nesta’s definitely a mean domme in this so have fun I guess?

word count: 6,323

——————————————————————————————————————————————

You relish the cool bite of the night air as it nips at the exposed skin of your neck, content to take your time on the late walk. 

The sidra is always lovely at this time of night, with the colours amplified by the darkness of the sky, and the smell of food in the air, vendors selling treats and snacks to other like-minded fae as you, who enjoy taking strolls before bed. 

Alcohol permeates just below the slight smokiness of the night air, but you can manage to ignore it—you’re long past that point in your life of drinking until the sun’s rising, scrambling for clothes that were recklessly strewn off the night before. Yes, that’s all far behind you now. And you’re glad of it. 

Your heels click faintly atop the cobbles, streetlights twinkling high above as you pass through various alleyways, taking your sweet time as you meander through the familiar parts of the city. Maybe it would be worth paying a visit to Rita’s…catch up with some familiar faces. It’s been a while since you last swung by, and you find yourself missing the pleasant comfort that’s always available there. The distinct coziness and security provided by the establishment. 

A hand snatches at your wrist, and you nearly stumble as you’re jerked into a narrow alleyway, the abrasive texture of brick grazing your back harshly. 

Your mouth opens in a yelp, but another hand has slapped over your mouth, nails tenderly biting into your cheeks as eyes the colour of mercury burn into you. Instantly you recognise the female, tension dissipating as you relax into the relief, before your brows are furrowing in question—what’s going on? Her palm recedes from your mouth but her hand remains firmly shackling your wrist, and you look at her in confusion. 

“Nesta…” you greet, nervously. “How’ve you been?” 

“Perfect,” she replies, her voice whispering down the vertebrae of your spine, small hairs rising at the nape of your neck instinctively at that quicksilver sound. “You?” 

“Good…” you hedge, glancing about skittishly. “I’m— I’ve been good.” You swallow, trying to regain your composure. Her lips curve faintly. Oh dear… 

“I haven’t seen you recently,” she drawls, stepping closer so her foot is between your own. “Have you been hiding from me?” 

“Hiding from you?” You question, forcing a laugh into your voice. “Why would I be hiding from you?” Her smile sharpens faintly, a hungry glint in her eyes that has your pulse spiking. Heart stuttering further when she again raises her hand to your cheek, gently scraping a nail below your jaw to tilt your head upwards for her. Pushing a strand of hair away, tucking it behind an arched ear. 

You swallow. 

“So…what are you doing, out this late?” You manage to ask, head wanting to dip so you might be spared from the intensity of her gaze. The ire that seems to be continuously ablaze in the depths of her silver stare. “Evening entertainment,” she muses lightly, fingers grazing a spot she knows you find sensitive just shy of your ear, a spot below the hinge of your jaw. You inhale softly. 

“And you?” 

Your tongue flicks out to wet your lips, momentarily fumbling when she follows the motion. “I wanted an evening walk,” you answer, eyes averted and you glance to the relative light from the street. “Then I’ll be getting to bed,” you smile, forcing another laugh, “I like my early nights now.” 

“Hmm? Has all the fun been drained out of you, lamb?” She drawls, a mirthless laugh slicing from her own lips. “Did Amren suck you dry?” 

“No! No, no. I haven’t seen Amren actually since…” you fumble trying to think back, her pesky nail repeatedly scratching at that spot that has your breath trembling. Her grin widens. “Probably in a few months, at least…” 

“And now I’m to understand you’ve taken to staying in, on nights like these?” 

You swallow thickly, all too aware of her proximity, that wretched nail scratching away at the tender soft spot below your ear. Nod your head. “I enjoy it,” you stammer out softly. “It’s pleasant, to…be alone for some nights…” You wonder if she catches your meaning. 

“Only some?” 

Fuck.

“I suppose…company is nice…sometimes too…” you hedge, nervous to displease her. Anxious to slip out from her dominating presence. Her lips curve into a vicious smile, one that you’re sure would feel like steel across your mouth. “Sometimes…” she muses, eyes glinting with ravenous hunger, “tonight?” 

“Uh, I don’t know about tonight…I’m quite worn out…and I’ve been falling asleep earlier, as of late, so…” 

Her smile vanishes, dropping faster than a millstone through water. Apprehension strangles your throat at that look, heart pounding wildly. Her nails close around your neck tenderly, scraping as she steps closer, able to feel her breath on your lips. “Repeat that?” 

You fumble, lungs trembling as your pulse spikes, and you could swear a bead of sweat gathers on your temple. You look away. “Nesta…maybe you should stay in for the night too. By yourself.” 

Her nails scratch at the soft flesh of your cheeks as she grips you harder, forcing your face up. “I thought you liked being my little bitch,” she whispers sharply against your mouth, marking the involuntary shiver of pleasure that tremors up your spine. The small noise that gets caught in your throat. “Has something changed?” 

“No…! Nesta, let me go…” You mumble beneath her grip, hands beginning to raise to pry her fingers away, but one sharp glare has them recoiling to your chest. “My sexuality is as it’s always been, but that doesn’t entitle you to it…” you whimper softly, fingers trembling beneath that barely restrained ferocity. 

Her temper seems temporarily soothed in the blink of an eye. A bat of her eyelashes and it’s gone. Then the hand on your wrist is releasing you in favour of pulling your dress out of the way, her palm sliding effortlessly between your thighs as she cups you through your underwear. Your eyes go wide, inhaling sharply as your lips part at the violation. The entitlement. Her fingers shift, and your hands ball tight over your chest as she presses at your clit. 

You’re unable to look away, her silver eyes burning into your with a starving, simmering heat that’s bound you tight in her spidersilk, breath beginning to pant from your parted lips as she leans closer, mouth skimming your own. “You like this,” she murmurs, so tenderly, fingers swiping softly between your trembling thighs. “Remember how it felt? How much you enjoyed it?” She asks, removing her hand only in favour of gripping your wrist again, but you don’t think to fight against her as she brings your palm to touch her. 

“Remember this?” Nesta whispers, mouth almost atop your own, hips grinding softly over your hand, riding her scent into your skin. “You loved getting the chance to put your pretty face between my thighs, getting to taste me…” she goads, “and you were so good at it too. Better than any of those males by a long shot. So good with my clit.” 

Your breath stutters in your chest, heat flushing your cheeks with an overwhelming ferocity, hunger paired with fear. “Is that what this is about?” You force a whisper, lips trembling as her mouth returns to its sharp curve. “You’re bored?”

“I’m bored of not finding my satisfaction,” Nesta drawls atop your mouth. You inhale raggedly as she slips your palm into her underwear, inviting your fingers to dance through the sopping wetness of her heat. “And you will definitely satisfy me,” she murmurs, grinding down on your fingers before guiding them away. “As you always do.” 

With an almost tender touch, she plies your lips apart, guiding your glistening fingers to slide into your mouth, pushing her taste across your tongue. “Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” She muses, pressing her leg between your thighs, watching how your pupils dilate at her flavour, the memories coming back to you. 

She can feel she almost has you. 

You swallow thickly, eyes dropping away from her own, glancing downward toward the light of the street. You’re supposed to be getting back from your walk soon…supposed to be settling into bed…supposed to be going to sleep soon… 

Nesta pulls your fingers from your mouth, cupping your cheeks in both hands before carefully laying her lips atop your own. There’s the faintest taste of alcohol, but you’re surprised how sober she is…probably hadn’t had time to visit a tavern before she found you… Your breathing stutters, able to feel the faint caress of her lashes against your cheek, her tongue nimbly swiping out to taste you…and you crumble. 

“Just…just tonight…?” You ask, head slightly dipped when she pulls away. A hair-raising laugh spills from her lips as she gazes down at you, hands still cupping your cheeks. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself, be my guest.” You flush, looking up at her from beneath your lashes, brows furrowed faintly. “Do you want this or not?” You mumble, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably. 

“You’ve crawled on your hands and knees for a taste of my cunt before,” she drawls, pressing her thigh closer between your own, causing your breath to hitch, “you’ll crawl again, before the night is up.” 

“I don’t have to come with you, you know,” you try to argue, but there’s already a distinct heat pooling in your lower belly, and she looks like she’s considering dragging you away herself if you won’t follow of your own accord. “You won’t be coming at all, if you keep up with this attitude,” she hisses, a shiver sprinting up your spine. 

You look away. “You never made me come anyway…you always made me do it by myself…” 

“Give me a reason for you to deserve one.” 

“You…you like my mouth better than a male’s…” you mumble softly. 

“You could put in half effort and still be better than a male’s. Maybe if I think you’re actually trying to make me come I’d be inclined to return the favour.” 

“I always did,” you insist, flushing. “I always made sure you came. You never did anything for me…you just wanted pleasure…”

“Oh please,” Nesta hisses, shoving firmly at your shoulders, making the brick of the wall dig into your back. “Like you didn’t get off on it. I know you loved how objectified I made you feel, how much you loved getting to shut up and follow my orders. That’s why you kept coming back, because you love my kind of degradation. And that’s exactly why you’re going to drop everything for me tonight and fumble your dumb, ditzy way back to my place, just so you might get the tiniest bit of approval from me.”

You stare at her, speechless, arousal thick and heavy in the air as you flush. 

“Now, I’ll ask you again,” she murmurs, and you can feel her breath as it fans across your mouth. “Do you, or do you not, want to be my good, little, bitch.” 

————

Honestly, you’re surprised how clean her apartment is. Sure there’s still some clothing strewn about, but as far as you can tell the sheets are washed and crisp, the duvet recently changed, and only the faintest scent of liquor in the air. You’ll admit a part of you had been antsy at having to go over to her place, where you’d be so isolated, but… well, it looks okay, at least…

“Strip,” Nesta orders, and you turn to look at her. “Do I need to repeat myself for those dim ears of yours?” She murmurs, worryingly softly. Like the calm before the storm. You flush. Look away. “No…”

“No, what?” She probes.

You bite the inside of your lip. “No, ma’am.” 

Silver eyes narrow on you, then she’s turning away, and you glance down at yourself, feeling how swiftly your body has prepared itself for her. The sensitivity in your breasts, the tingling heat between your thighs…you lick your lips, sliding the straps down over your shoulders before lifting the dress up over your head, leaving you bare save for your underwear. 

“Come here,” she commands, your skin prickling at the stern tone. 

Bare feet pad across the wooden floors, and she turns to face you. “You know, I thought you might be a little hesitant to return to me,” she drawls, her hands faintly skimming your bare hips, nails scraping over the thin string of underwear. “So I got you something I think you’ll like.” She applies a pressure to your hips. “Kneel.” 

You settle on the floor, hands in your lap as you look up at her shyly. 

Nesta’s lips curve, them her fingers are deftly releasing the strings holding the bodice of her dress together, allowing the material to go slack over her lovely form, before pulling it away entirely. Leaving her in little clothing. “Do you like the view from down there,” she muses, one palm lightly cupping her breast, the other trailing tauntingly lower, fingers slipping between her parted legs. You swallow. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Silver eyes twinkle, then she’s pulling something from the drawer at her back. When you realise it’s a collar, you hurry to look away to hide the ferocious heat that’s undoubtedly ravishing your body. A single, disciplinary tut has you righting your posture, spine straightening as you incline your chin so she can attach it to you. “I knew you’d like this little thing,” she murmurs, tightening the straps so it fits well, still able to slip two fingers between the collar and your skin, before she attaches the leash. 

“I told you you’d be crawling for me before the night was over,” she taunts, feet parting a little wider as she gives a short tug on the leash, beckoning you up onto your knees. She wraps the lead around her knuckles, keeping it tight when she tangles her hand in your hair. “Keep still. Don’t move until I tell you to,” she commands, giving a punishing tug. 

You release an involuntary whimper as she steps forward while holding you still, a mere scrap of fabric between you and her cunt as she stands over you, close enough your mouth is pressed flush to her clit. It’s a struggle to not part your lips, with her heat and her scent right there. How her arousal is filling your every breath. 

“Now, you’re going to listen carefully because I’m only going to tell you this once,” she mutters, grip tightening on you. “I think you have been avoiding me lately, and I don’t appreciate it. There are a lot of males in this city I could go to for pleasure, but very few of them would actually give it to me. Fewer still well enough to make me want to return to them, especially when it comes to knowing how to work their mouths well.” 

You try to concentrate, but your mouth is watering from how dizzyingly close you are to her cunt, practically able to feel the dampness seeping through onto your lips. 

Another punishing tug on your hair, pressing her hips closer, so Nesta can really only see your nose and eyes, though she’s working on making more of you disappear from her vision. 

“Knowing all that, don’t you think it was cruel to vanish like you did? To deprive me of that pleasure? That only another female could give me?” She drawls, tone sharpening to something icy and bladed. “I went so long without it, you know. Missing the feel of your lovely, pretty mouth between my legs, the way you actually know what to do with your tongue. Even those dumb noises you made when I was particularly punishing to you.” She takes another small step, forcing you to crane your neck back as she settles over the lower portion of your face, nose now pressing to her clit, mouth poised to…you can’t finish the thought…

“So if you think for a second I’ll be warm and welcoming to you, grateful that you’re dumb enough to fumble your way back to me, you’re mistaken.” Her hips buck, rubbing her scent into your skin, giving in to that need to mark you as her own, so nobody else can claim your pleasure. “You won’t be getting so much as an ounce of pleasure from me,” she whispers, thumb stroking with faux-care over your scalp, “until you’ve repaid every night I’ve missed. Every orgasm I’ve had to settle for since you decided to take your mouth away from me, every half-decent lay, and the ones less that that, you’re going to make up for every, single, one of them.”

Gods, your limbs already feel weak. You need more of her. 

“And you’re going to degrade yourself wholeheartedly, because your only goal tonight is to please me. Understand?” 

You whimper in response, wanting to touch her, to wrap your hands around her thighs, but you know you’d only get in more trouble for that. Her lips curve, apparently satisfied with whatever she finds in your eyes, but steps away before you can get a chance to use your mouth on her. 

“Now crawl,” she murmurs, making to walk over to the bed, forcing you to descend onto your hands and knees to follow after her, the leash still clutched taut in her hand. Humiliation pleasantly simmers beneath your skin as you cross the floor, a small portion of you happy to be engaging in this behaviour with her again. After so long without it. 

Nesta prowls onto the edge of her bed, keeping you behind her as she settles on her knees, bringing a pillow forward for her to lie on, looping your lead between her legs. Then she settles down, tugging faintly on the leash to drag you closer. “I’ll take my underwear off when I think you’ve earned it,” she tells you, getting comfy on her bed, and you can make out the rustling of pages. 

She did this a lot when you were with her before—hiding you away beneath her skirts, or tucking you under a thin sheet then turning to a book to conjure up a fantasy. Maybe not the healthiest dynamic you’ve been in, but gods did it turn you on how she demeaned and exploited you. Pretended you weren’t there for the sake of her own pleasure. 

“Are you waiting for something?” She mutters, jerking hard enough on the leash you’re pulled to her cunt, parted lips settling over her centre, and she bucks her hips lightly, thighs spreading wider to get you closer. 

You hastily raise into a sitting position, hungry to start working on her, to please her enough she’ll let you have a taste… She makes no noise of contentment when you lay your hands on her, but her figure relaxes significantly, muscle melting into her bed as she resigns herself over to you, and a kernel of pride blooms in your chest that you could get this terror of a woman to give herself over to you. 

You swallow thickly, one palm resting on her ass while the other thumbs down her centre, getting to work on slowly building up that heat. She prevents abrupt and intense stimulation, but with the added layer of difficulty of her underwear in the way, capping the amount of sensitivity you can exploit from her, you’ll have to take a more slow, deliberate approach. You allow your breath to ghost across the inside of her thigh, nosing lightly at the intimate skin, letting her anticipation build as your fingers trail teasingly across her hind, almost reverently. 

As lightly as you can manage, you press your lips over the top of her underwear, slowly, slowly making your way down, following the thin, grey silk band to where it darkens, arousal having soaked the lovely material. You can feel her tighten beneath your mouth. Nesta shifts on the bed, and a page turns. 

Swallowing thickly, you press your lips to the apex of her thighs, and she snatches at the opportunity you’ve presented to grind back against the tip of your nose, tightening the pull on the leash so you’re flush with her cunt. Smoothly, you graze your palm across the exposed skin of her hind, redirecting sensitivity while you open your mouth. Gently, you lay the flat of your tongue against her clit, giving time for the saliva to soak through, so the material will be less abrasive. 

Nesta shivers as you apply a slight pressure, grip slackening on the leash enough for you to run your thumb down her centre, switching positions to lick at the dip between her thighs, softening the already wet material, sucking on it lightly to better taste her arousal. Her spine curves faintly as you push the pad of your thumb to her clit, oscillating slowly as you focus on working her up, tongue flicking at her entrance. 

When she begins to get impatient, tightening her hold on your leash, you switch back. Your thumb rests over her entrance, circling thrice before slipping beneath the dove-grey silk, pressing flush to her heat. Nesta rolls her hips down, and you kiss up her centre, pressing your middle and further finger against her, soaking them in her slick and it takes all of your discipline to keep from licking at them right then and there. Only in favour of sinking them inside of her, feeling how she grips at your digits, already knowing how much pleasure they can bring. 

“Hurry up,” she mumbles, but you can hear the slightly breathless note in her voice, the way her hips are winding, and anticipation builds in the pit of your belly. 

Focusing on pumping and curling your fingers, you continue applying that pressure to her clit—more than anything that’s been the kind of stimulation she’s been missing, so it’s the kind you will target. Relentlessly. When you have better access to her, that is. For now, you’re searching. It’s been a while since you’ve been with her, and you need to re-familiarise yourself with her— there. 

Her toes curl, body moving atop the pillow as she squeezes at your fingers, clenching around them when you brush up against a spot she likes. Your lids flutter with pleasure, sealing your lips over her heat, pushing your fingers further inside to better rub their pads against that spot, kissing at her cunt while beckoning her closer…and closer… Nesta’s body goes taut, her toes curling as the orgasm releases through her, her fingers gripping the sheets as you push against that spot, not once slowing or shifting your rhythm as she flutters around your digits. 

A quiet curse slips from her lips as you carry her through the aftershocks, pulling back to rub your thumb atop her clit, sending fresh pulses of pleasure through her. 

Nesta raises from the pillow lethargically, like an ancient creature at last waking from its slumber, and she pulls on the leash again, dragging you to her wet cunt as she spreads her thighs, grinding over your face, the lead rubbing against her clit. You inhale deeply, hands tenderly wrapping around her thigh and calf, keeping yourself close. 

A low, mocking laugh drags from her lips, forcing you to remain plastered to her cunt as arousal seeps through onto your skin, holding you there as she rides out her pleasure. “You’ve missed this, haven’t you slut?” 

You whimper at the name, and she laughs again, using you like a pillow to rub and grind against until she’s satisfied. 

“Now,” she instructs, settling higher onto her hands and knees, “I want you to remove my underwear. Don’t use your hands, and don’t lick anything. Get to work.” 

You swallow a moan, rising higher to latch your teeth over the band at the base of her spine, forcing yourself to drag the material away and keeping your mouth to yourself. It’s a harder task than it sounds, watching the slick fabric peel away, strings of silvery arousal webbing between her thighs, the heavy traces of her orgasm difficult to ignore, but you manage to complete your task. Enough so that Nesta shifts on her own, removing her underwear when you’ve tugged it down to her thighs, exposing her to the cool air of the bedroom. 

“Come up here,” she instructs, shifting along the bed to make room for you, and you follow swiftly, crawling up onto the plush mattress. Her lips curve when you pause a healthy distance from her. “Closer,” she drawls, reaching for your lead but you scurry forward before she can tug on it. But still, “closer.” 

You pause when your knees might as well be brushing her own, hands set in your lap as you look up at her nervously. 

“There were a few things that surprised me, when I first decided to try you on,” Nesta muses, letting her fingers roam across the top of your thigh, moving in faintly circular patterns. “One of them was how shameless you were,” she continues, “I couldn’t fathom ever submitting myself in the way you do. But I suppose that’s why I’m the one who does the degrading, not the other way around.” 

Her fingers persist on their travels, skimming to the inner part of your thigh, and when she taps her nail twice, you shyly part them a little. Nesta hums slightly, and her palm slides between your legs, fingers running over the damp material clinging to your hips, dragging them over your sex teasingly, noticing possibly for the first time just how you react to her touch—hands tightening into fists just shy of your knees, the increase of temperature in your skin, that wonderfully bashful look that’s kept in the set of your brows. 

“But I think what I found the most surprising was how, despite your pretty exterior, how you put yourself together, your composure and polite demeanour,” she smiles, and no good can come of that smile. You feel yourself getting wetter, aching for her, but as if sensing that acute need, she pulls away, instead dragging her underwear closer. “All of that was put together to hide that nasty little fixation of yours, hm? Isn’t that right?” 

She circles the tip of her finger atop the mattress, in one of the holes for her legs, and you swallow thickly, catching the way a section of the material glistens with a thick coating of slick. Hers. Her orgasm. 

You’re too busy off in your own world that you don’t notice her hand until it’s gripping your jaw, nails lightly piercing your skin as she holds you still. “You’re so dirty beneath all of that,” she mutters, fingers curling around the band that would settle at her hip, “and yet you have the guile to try and act so innocently to the world. Pretend you’re so sweet, and quiet, and charming. But I know better.” 

She grips her underwear in her hand, fingers squeezing firmly at the hinge of your jaw and you have no time to think as she shoves the erotic flavoured part of clothing into your mouth, holding you still so you’re utterly under her control. 

“So dumb beneath all that, aren’t you? Silly, stupid, foolish girl,” she hums, pressing down on your tongue to draw more whimpers from your throat, mind fogging at her rough touch. “There’s nothing going on behind those eyes of yours, is there? Not a single thought, other than trying to memorise what I taste like, trying to conjure up a dirty little fantasy to help get yourself off. Not even trying to please me anymore, are you?” 

Nesta’s silver eyes glint like mercury as she rubs her fingers over your tongue, infusing her flavour with your saliva, making sure you get all of it in your mouth. 

“How hot and bothered would you get if I tied you up and left you tucked away beneath my bed for a few hours, with my underwear gagging your dumb little mouth to stop it from making any more of those stupid noises?” She croons, moving closer, rising up onto her knees so you have to look up at her. “Would you like that?” She whispers, a power-hungry gleam in her eyes. “What else can I make you do, hm? How far will you go for me, if I tell you to? Wear that collar in public for me? Let me permanently mark those thighs of yours? Spend full days on your hands and knees for me? I bet you’d love that last one, such a pathetic little slut, aren’t you?” 

Nesta laughs, gripping you tighter as a wetness shines on your lashes, able to smell as your arousal spikes, humiliation flushing your skin. 

“Go on,” she mutters atop your mouth, smiling cruelly. “Tell me how you’re my perfect little slut.” 

Your eyes widen, looking away, tongue swiping across your lips when she pulls her underwear from your mouth expectantly. “Nesta…that’s a bit far…” 

“Hm? A bit far?” She parodies, making to lay back on her mattress, that smug, domineering smile staying on her perfectly curved lips. “You don’t get to say I’m going a bit far when you’ve waited hours on your knees beneath my vanity for me to give you the okay to stick your ditzy face between my thighs.” 

Your lips part on a shocked inhale, vicious flame engulfing your body whole, like you’ve been dunked in a slightly too-hot bath and need to be getting out. 

Nesta smirks, laying back into the plush cushioning of her pillows, legs bending at the knees to spread herself open, and you flush further when she beckons you over, a single elegant finger directing you toward her exposed, dripping cunt. “Come over here,” she murmurs, still looking smug. 

Shyly meeting her gaze, you crawl forward, settling lower to the bed as you open your mouth, anxious to finally lay your tongue over her, to bury your face into the sopping wetness of her pussy. But Nesta hasn’t let her original plan go, and you squeal when her nails rake across your scalp, holding you in place, less than an inch from her lovely cunt. So close you could probably lick her, if you tried. 

“I told you to say it,” she whispers in a tone that sounds like it’s trying to mimic care. A little whiney, a little taunting. Wholly mocking.

“Go on,” she encourages, lips curving into that smarmy little smile again, “say you’re a pathetic little slut. Or I’ll be more than happy to toss you back to the streets.” You can guess that’s a lie after how she sought you out, but her pride is fierce enough, and she’s stubborn enough to possibly follow through…

Silver eyes pierce into you. “…I’m…your…” 

“Where are you looking?” She drawls, tugging on your hair once, redirecting you to her cunt. “I know what you are. Tell her.” She pulls you closer, so her arousal glistens on your lips, and it would be so easy to flick your tongue out…

Your toes curl with embarrassment, an arousing twinge of shame unspooling in your abdomen as you lower your gaze to her pussy. “…I’m…I’m your pathetic little slut.” 

Nesta laughs, spreading her legs wider as she pushes you against herself, hips winding against you as her thighs squeeze either side of your head in pleasure. “I knew you’d say it,” she taunts, “too desperate to go without it. Dumb, ditzy, desperate slut.” 

You could moan from how good it feels to be so intimately placed in relation to her bare heat, feeling how she’s lightly riding your face, swiping her hips up and down to glide across your slick-soaked features, liking how your mouth feels pressed flush to her entrance, nose pressing at her clit. “Get started,” she muses, a little breathless, thighs squeezing you with need. “You’ve got a lot to make up for.” 

Your lips part, and her flavour rushes in, pulled further into your mouth with every fervent swipe of your tongue through her centre, parting her until the tip reaches her clit, circling and trailing around it in the way she’s been yearning for. Nesta’s hips buck with pleasure, and you close your lips around her, suckling eagerly while your palms wrap beneath her legs, skimming the tops of her thighs as you drink her taste down, so much more concentrated that what you got from her underwear. 

Gods, she’s heavenly. 

Nesta curses on a low, rushed exhale, grappling for her book again, and you flush as she balances it across her sternum, effectively blocking you out once more. You feel at least a small part of you should be indignant about her obsession at refusing to acknowledge you, but it allows you to focus on her. 

Carefully removing your hand from her thigh, you trail down to her entrance, pushing your tongue against her, lapping and flicking against her as you begin pushing small circles into her clit. She inhales sharply, and you know the sound. It’s always different when it’s someone who understands what’s going on between your legs, who can choose to target sweet spots and use them to their advantage. Your tongue flattens against her, pushing inside, and the circles become tighter; meaner. Rapidly dragging her closer, making use of the sensitivity you’ve created from that first orgasm. 

The curses become more frequent, though they’re all barely muttered under her breath. You switch around, lips wrapping around her clit to suck while your hand slides lower, slipping in your middle and forth finger with arousing ease. 

She’s so wet. 

You know it’s helped on by the first orgasm, but even then, she’s practically drooling slick onto the sheets, even after you’ve spent so long licking it up. 

“More,” Nesta murmurs, voice breathy and undone; you follow obediently. 

You know exactly where to touch, where to rub up against again, curling your fingers and keeping in rhythm with the suctioning pulses you’re creating with your mouth and tongue, pulling her clit between your lips and circling the tip of your tongue against that sensitive part. You can feel how it’s hardened from the stimulation, growing taut beneath your ministrations. 

Nesta’s spine arches, and you keep pushing against that spot, knowing exactly the kind of reaction it’ll reward you with. 

She makes a strained noise in her throat, deep and breathy, book falling aside as she tries to cover her mouth as the second orgasm gushes through her…and from her. You moan as she splashes onto you, a little taken aback, having forgotten what it was like to have her soaking you. 

Heated, silver eyes glance downwards, a beautiful pink flush heavily colouring her cheeks, and you have to press your thighs together when she reaches down and spreads herself apart, making an upside-down V with her fingers, intentionally squirting across your face, taking her pleasure in marking you so territorially. You get the vague impression it’s turning her on more that it is you. 

Nesta doesn’t once look away, practically coming again from the humiliation of it all, her lips curving in a feline grin, dripping feminine satisfaction, sinking into the luscious plushness of her pillows. As if she’s finally back where she belongs, after being denied her rightful position. 

Her fingers shakily roll over her clit, delivering slow, almost lazy circles that cause her thighs to flinch with each pass, and you obediently return to lapping at her heat, gently licking up the orgasm from her dripping pussy, careful not to waste a single drop.

With a steadied grip, Nesta pulls on your leash, and you rise desperately from her heat, your own cunt aching for some kind of relief. 

“Nesta…it’s your turn,” you insist softly, a deep flush on your cheeks from how needy you sound. She arches an eyebrow, and your brows curve with desperate frustration. “Nesta, you said you wouldn’t do this,” you whine, following her pull on the lead until you’re hovering above her, poised  to lower yourself to her breasts should she order you to. “Please, I need to cum so badly…” 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t touch yourself,” she muses, two finger looping directly beneath your collar to pull you closer to her mouth. “I can sit on your face, while you use those talented little fingers on yourself,” she croons, lips brushing against your own, making you release a noise of disappointed frustration. 

“No, you said…” you fumble, recalling that she didn’t exactly say anything. “I’m not… I’m leaving if you don’t. It can’t just always be for your pleasure, you know. I’m serious this time. I’ll leave…” Nesta’s lip curls, silver flame blazing bright in those tormentingly beautiful eyes of hers, inciting both your fear and your arousal. “You aren’t stepping foot outside this bedroom, much less getting to come on your own until you make me do that at least two other times,” Nesta hisses against your mouth, a snarl coming through from beneath. 

“And don’t even think about trying to sneak yourself some relief now,” she mutters, a punishing ire gleaming hot in her silver stare. “Pathetic little sluts don’t get to cum. Now stop whining. I told you exactly what you were in for before we started, so don’t try and act all shy now,” she tells you, her legs moving to guide you into the next position she wants, dragging you back down her body to continue servicing her aching pussy. 

Her mouth shifts with knowing, a distinctly self-satisfied expression passing over her cruelly honed features, voice softened to a mocking drawl. 

“This is exactly what you want.” 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

[zhongrin]

| ◆ ch. vago mundo ⑊ zhongli

--⟢ ii. little dragon, big dragon |   teyvat continues to change, and nobody can stop it. but morax hopes that some things stay unchanged.

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

◇ tags ◇ fluff, rex lapis in the olden days is a (lovable) menace

◇ a/n ◇ everyone shush and hear me out!!!!!!! smol dragon!zhongli draped around your neck and purring like a cat. that's it that's the post.

"is that…"

"that improper animal… this new generation of disciples are just too full of themselves."

"the divine one is just far too lenient… i fear the young ones will continuously abuse their kindness."

rex lapis squints his eyes towards the whispers of the less fortunate souls, inwardly scoffing at the open jealousy in their words. it's your gentle touch that pulls him out of his musings, and he lightly cranes his eyes up to stare at your visage.

"this is quite a commendable feat, rex. to have such precise control over your physique… keep this up and you might even become an archon one day," you chuckle, fingers lightly tracing the small horns on the sides of his compact-sized dragon form.

he's unable to stop the instinctive purrs which are reverberating from the back of his throat, amber eyes closing in bliss as you let him curl even closer around your neck, though he takes extra care so his scales won't hurt you in the process.

"you know, a friend of yours came to find me the other day. guizhong, i think was her name? she told me about your… excursions."

the low purring immediately stops, and you hold back a laugh when you feel the little dragon shift uneasily around you.

"were those glaze lilies you gave me the other day from guizhong's little garden after all, hmm?"

".... maybe."

"oh, rex… you know how much she adores them."

"but you said you liked them the last time she showed you…"

"i do, but that doesn't mean you can filch them off guizhong's garden."

"but- she stole my treasures to give you those earrings last time, so now we're even!"

you had to laugh at that. the petty little squabbles from the younger acolytes are always one of your constant sources of entertainment, and this one is no different. you find the dynamics of this particular group amusing, and you can't deny that you might be a little biased when it comes to them. especially to the little dragon. he's witty and a little cheeky, just like all the hatchlings, but something tells you that he'll grow into an individual to be feared if he gains enough wisdom over the few hundred - or thousand, years.

you can only hope you'll be there to witness it when the time comes.

"i suppose, little wyrmling."

rex huffs, tail flopping back to your shoulder, snuggling closer around your neck.

"you didn't have to do all that, you know. i think they deserve to be angry."

morax shakes his head stubbornly as he closes the door of your bedroom behind the two of you. his hand lands on the small of your back and he leads you further into the room.

"while i have seen you making many mistakes throughout the olden times, i know you will always strive to do what you can to make up for it. i would never wish for dominion, but as long as i walk upon teyvat, there shall be no being who gets away with besmirching your name. and especially not in the nation i've cultivated to honor your very being."

you sigh at his tenacity and turn to face him instead, resting your hands on his chest and giving him your best patient smile. the hard lines on his expression smooth out, and you can feel him relax under your touch. soon enough his own hands fall back onto your waist, this time softly palming the sides of your hips, like a kitten making biscuits.

"though i'm honored, i think it's rather petty of you to go to such lengths when all they did was gossip… people have been working hard to rebuild the houses, right? an earthquake is just going to render their efforts useless…"

"ahem…. i'll admit that it wasn't my intention to react in such an… overly dramatic manner. it is my mistake. i realize now that i should have controlled myself better."

"oh, morax… this childish side of yours truly amuses me sometimes," you giggle when you sighted the reddened tips of his ears and the way he's lightly chewing his bottom lip in guilt.

sometimes you still can't believe that the rex lapis himself could be so… adorable.

"okay, enough of that! creator worship time is over! i want my dearest zhongli now, please?"

he perks up at your wish and you step back to watch him shift into his mortal form. it takes him a short few seconds, but it always fascinates you, the way he manages to do it so elegantly and the magical way his body transforms into a familiar appearance.

slender fingers absent of talons reach out towards you, and you meet him halfway, fingers interlacing as you nuzzle into his chest with a satisfied hum. zhongli's deep chuckle caresses your ears and he maneuvers the both of you towards the nearby armchair. but before he can sit down and pull you on top of him, an idea hits you and you pull away slightly to tug on his clothes.

"can i play with your hair?"

"it would be my pleasure, dear."

with a pleased grin, you grab the various cushions and blankets from the couches nearby, making a small nest-like surface on the floor instead. zhongli sits cross-legged on it as soon as you plop onto the higher chair right behind the small area you've made for him, and your fingers automatically tug off the hairpin that holds his hair down his back. you unconsciously hum a tune of ancient lullabies as you continue on to play with his long strands of brown-gold hair, and the god of contracts lets himself melt onto your hold with a contented sigh.

thousands of years may have passed, and you might have lost the memories of your olden days with him forever.

yet, as you continue to spoil him with your sweet words and comforting presence, he realizes that your love for teyvat, for him, no matter which forms and the identity he takes, has stayed true and strong even without those memories.

and zhongli realizes that it's all he could ever ask for.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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