#suckers for losing i guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

revasserium · 2 months

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to win and to lose

kenma, tsukki, hinata, kageyama; 3,200 words; fluff, lapslock, no "y/n", kissing, slightly!suggestive content, but mostly just tooth-rotting fluff, domestic bliss, post!timeskip characters, pro-streamer!kenma, olympics athlete!hinata, pouty!tsukki, and needy!kageyama

summary: you win some, you lose some, right?

a/n: truly just a few drabbles that came to my mind when i was sitting in a bath the other day; so pls enjoy some hq-flavored domesticity

kenma

“— alright chat, that’s it for today — i’ve got uh —” kenma glances over at the top of his collection of monitors at where you’re standing, holding two beers, a sly grin twisting the corner of your mouth. even in the strange blue light of his monitors, you can see his cheeks darken.

“— some stuff to do. see ya!” he ends the stream just as you round the massive table to set a beer down in front of him. he chuckles and reaches out to pull you into his lap, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a sigh.

“hey there, mr. ceo.” you smirk, twisting round to run your fingers through his hair, tugging out the loosening hair tie and cocking your head. kenma huffs, crinkling his nose, shaking his head as you continue to comb through his hair with your fingers.

“i hate it when you call me that.”

“mm, then… what would you prefer? mr… streamer boy? mr. stock trader? oh — i’ve got it! mr. simp-man.”

kenma scoffs, jerking forward so that you’re trapped against the hard edge of his gaming desk, his arms locking you to him. he’s grown since high school, but even so, his lithe build betrays the strength still hidden within his limbs from the endless hours of training, of playing.

“there’s no winning against you, is there?” he asks, his voice muffled by your skin, and you bite back a groan at the way he’s trailing his lips along the hard ridge of your collarbones. he peers up at you, a sharp, feline glint to his eyes, a hand reaching out to set your half-drunk beer on his table before hoisting you up with one arm. you squeak, the gesture taking you by surprise even as he carries you to the futon set up in strategically in the corner of the game room, put there for the nights when you’d lie there and watch him stream, when you’d close your eyes and let the rgb lights flicker across the backs of your eyelids like the northern lights, like so many midnight rainbows.

“well… seeing as you’re winning in so many other aspects in life,” you say, your voice nothing more than a sigh as he lays you down, fingers already tugging at the thin straps of your dress, “a little losing here and there might do you good, hm?”

“mm…” kenma hums, contemplative, even as he leans back and runs an appraising eye down the length of your body, “i mean… i did let kuroo talk me into joining the volleyball club back in highschool so… i guess you can say… in my own way… i’m sort of a sucker for punishment.”

tsukki.

“ah… that looked like a brutal practice,” you say, peering around the bathroom door. the sound of water splattering down skin echoes wetly through the enclosed space.

“aren’t they all?” tsukishima drawls, setting down the large wooden bath ladle to squint at you through the hazy mist. his glasses lie fogged and forgotten, set to the side.

you smile, slipping into the room with a fresh towel.

“i’ve got miso soup being warmed on the stove and an icepack in the freezer. take your time though — o-oh!”

a pair of arms reaches out to pull you down, and you barely catch yourself on the edge of the large wooden bath.

“t-tsukki! what —”

“it was a brutal practice.”

you barely hear the smirk in his voice as he sighs and props his chin on your thigh, the water from the bath staining you thin dress in seconds. you fight the urge the roll your eyes, reaching down to run your fingers through his damp hair, absently massaging at his scalp.

its rare to see him like this — rarer, even, to see him so openly vulnerable, even if there’s still the barest hint of a tease lurking beneath the tired rhythm of his voice, his breathing. like this, his long lashes are daggered into points by the steam, his normally pale skin made even more so by the bright bathroom lights.

through the water, you can see the new bruises blossoming along his thin legs, the old ones barely fading. thoughtlessly, you lean in and dip your hand in the water to trace a finger along one particularly large one at his right knee.

“what happened?” you ask, though you basically already know the answer — practice for a v2 league team happened. still, tsukishima glances down at the bruise with an oddly disembodied gaze and shrugs.

“dunno. dove to save a ball a few times.”

you laugh, tilting your head to one side as he leans back to press his cheek to your now damp thigh.

“wow, in practice? other team must’ve really pissed you off.”

at this, tsukishima crinkles his nose and scoffs. you hike an expectant eyebrow and wait.

“the jackals were over for a practice match.” his voice is clipped, but you feel your own laughter bubbling up in seconds. of course.

you bite back a giggle, “and… did you guys win?”

he glares up at you, eyes narrowed, “they’re a division one team. what do you think?”

“hm… but i thought hinata’s been off with a rolled ankle so…”

again, he scoffs, “that team’s plenty of other players who are just as annoying.”

you clamp down on your bottom lip, “wow. high praise.”

he whacks at the surface of the bath, splattering your dress even as you break into a bright peal of laughter. you reach down to flick him with a bit of water as well but he catches you wrist in his, fingers wrapping around your arm, the warm bath water slicking down your skin in thin rivulets, dripping off your elbow. you gasp, heart suddenly thrumming behind your eardrums.

the lopsided, slightly sadistic smile that slits his lips is stomach-twistingly familiar.

“tsukki… there’s miso soup —”

“mm. think i want something else for dinner instead.”

the low murmur of words is the only warning you get before you’re pulled bodily into the warm bath, the water soaking your dress, making the material cling to your skin in seconds. you squeak against his lips, rough and insistent and just a little pleading. you know it’s futile to struggle, so you let him kiss you, his teeth digging into your bottom lip as you groan, your fingers finally finding purchase along the slick skin of his shoulder.

“you — you’ve ruined my — my favorite dress…”

“hn.”

tsukishima doesn’t look at all bothered by your admonishment, shrugging, “it’ll dry.”

water sloshes over the side of the bathtub, now dangerously full with the both of you soaking in it’s steaming depths.

“was it really that bad?” you ask, affecting your voice into a soft coo, trailing wet fingers over the soft of his cheeks.

“if i say yes,” he asks, peering down at you as a lepidopterist might study a new specimen of rare, and newly captured butterfly, “would you try to make me feel better?”

you lick your lips, feeling your mouth go dry, despite being literally submerged in water.

“depends,” you say, “on if you’ll let me go turn off the stove first — wouldn’t want the miso soup to burn.”

tsukishima rolls his eyes, fingers tightening around your wrists, pulling you closer. there’s a dangerous light flickering behind his eyes; a dull ache pulses at the base of your stomach, singeing up your spine as you tip forward for another long kiss.

“thought i said already… i don’t think i really want miso soup for dinner anymore.”

hinata.

there’s a certain magic in watching him play — the way he treats every win like his first, or his last. the way the world seems brighter right around his edges, as if his own shimmer and shine might infect the universe if it would only let him.

he is incandescent with joy after the olympic qualifier games — scoring a ticket is no mean feat, and it’s not every day that you see bokuto cry.

“congrats, shouyou!” you’re one of the first to greet him after the press stint (and a shower), but you can still see the brilliant, glazed look to his eyes that tells you he’s still riding his high. his smile is wide enough to split the sky as he spots you, jogging over to hoist you up into his arms, spinning you round with almost comical ease.

“haha — thanks!”

he leans up for a kiss, one that’s sweet as it is heady. when you pull apart, you are still weightless, and his smile shines like a smile on pause — it makes you want to unpause it, and watch it unfurl.

you trace the pads of your thumbs along the tiny freckles dotting his cheekbones — souvenirs from his time in brazil.

“so! are you gonna come watch us?” he asks, making to walk down the decidedly not deserted hallway with you still in his arms. you blush at the thought, giving his shoulders a slight squeeze.

“shouyou… you can put me down now — and of course i’ll come! it’s not everyday that your boyfriend makes it to the olympics.”

several people chuckle as they watch him parade passed, you still firmly held aloft, your elbows propped on his shoulders to give you some semblance of balance. your cheeks burn as hinata hums, waving at a fellow teammate, reaching out for a fist bump.

“shou…” you fight the urge to bury your face in his shoulder as he finally rounds a corner into a much more private hallway. he grins, completely unabashed, as he pushes through an unmarked door to a what seems to be an empty locker room. it’s sparse, but well-lit and quiet.

“hm?”

he sets you down on one of the benches and drops a quick kiss onto your shoulder.

“i could’ve walked…”

“didn’t feel like putting you down,” he says, his voice dropping in register and taking on that darker, baser veneer — you hear the frayed edges, the sandstone texture, a tell-tale sign of a deep-seated hunger. a very specific brand of shouyou-flavored want.

“n-ngh —” you make a soft noise as he dips down to nuzzle into the dip of your collarbone, a tiny groan festering up the back of his throat as he sighs.

“been thinking about this…” his fingers dance up your sides, light enough to tease, but solid enough to remind you of just how close you both are to a ruthless press and the oogling public.

“sh-shou let’s wait —”

hinata whines, shaking his head, his hair tickling at the skin of your neck, “don’t wanna.”

and you sigh, weighing the option of pushing back or giving in. each has dangers and merits, but you know better than most that when hinata gets like this, indulgence is usually the only answer that will satisfy.

“plus… i just won a ticket to the olympics! don’t you think that deserves some kind of —” he casts around for a good enough word, pulling back with a smile that, in the right kind of slanted, locker room light, might just look like a smirk, “reward?”

you cock your head and blink up at him, letting your fingers tangle in the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, “what? the olympics ticket wasn’t enough of a reward for you?”

at this, hinata pouts, pushing his bottom lip out far enough for you to lean forward and bite it. the movement makes him groan, his whole body tipping forward to cage you back against the row of cool, metal lockers.

“you shouldn’t do that if you don’t think you can finish the job,” he says, pulling back just far enough for the heat of his breath to fan across your spit-slick lips. you lave your tongue across them, shifting beneath him as he cocks his head to stare down at you, his eyes wide and dark and misty.

“and… what job might that be?” you ask, breathless even as he dips down again to catch your lips in his, reaching down to tug you bodily up the length of the lockers before pinning you in place. once upon a time, it was easy to forget how strong he is — but now, it’s even easier to spot the stretch and flex of muscle beneath his sun-kissed skin, feel the strength of them as he holds you still with a single hand, the other tugging down the neckline of your top.

“mm… the job —” he skims his teeth across your skin; you gasp, eliciting a small, satisfied chuckle from him, “of being an olympic athlete’s girlfriend, of course!”

kageyama.

it is never the losing, and always the aftermath, and by now, you know the shades and slivers of all his specific kinds of silences so intimately that you know without him having to say how the practice match had gone.

“hey.”

you greet him by the door with a soft, placatory kiss. he grunts, toeing off his shoes before dipping down to wrap both his arms around you and pull you close. you let out a breathy laugh as you feel his nose digging into the curve of your shoulder.

“want some dinner?” you ask, reaching up to stroke his sweat-soaked hair even though you already know the answer.

“later,” he says, making no sign of wanting to let you go. instead, when you try to pull away, he leans down and scoops you up to place you on top of the kitchen island, slotting himself between your knees, and re-burying his face in your shoulder.

“then…” you let your voice trail off, feeling the exhaustion pour off him in waves. you dig your fingers into the tense line of his shoulders and feel them tighten up before they fall slack again. for a few minutes, he contents himself with letting you massage the worst of the knots from his shoulders.

“hn.” he lifts his head only to lean forward and find your lips with his. the kiss is slow and just a bit tired — as sweet as it is thorough. in the beginning, you’d worried that dating someone like kageyama would end up being the kind of short-lived thing that all the tabloids and magazines had warned you about — that he might grow bored after a week, a month, maybe half a year. after all, someone like him, with that insatiable need for more wouldn’t be suited for the kind of so-called ‘domestic bliss’ as it’s prescribed of most long-term relationships. but he’d surprised you, in more ways than one. he’d not only not grown bored, but had seemingly become ever more… entranced.

the pair of you had grown into each other, each day steadily getting closer. until the space the two of you shared became so inextricably linked there’s no telling who’s breath was caught in each of your lungs, of who’s scent it was that lingered in the fine linen lining of all your pillows and sheets. it’s become your’s. in the most cliche way possible.

kageyama contents himself with kissing you, breaking for small breath, and then kissing you some more. one kiss falling into another, and another, and another. till you’re breathless in just way he likes, till he’s breathless, in the way that he gets sometimes during a particularly intense rally. he knows he’s sweat-sticky and probably stinks of the gym, but the way you smile up at him when he pulls away makes his whole body go soft.

“let’s take a shower before dinner,” you say, tracing a finger along the shell of his ear. he bites back a frown.

“not a bath?”

you laugh, shrugging, “we could — but the food’ll go cold.”

“we’ve got a microwave.”

you smile, a smile that inspires — no, demands — another kiss. and so he does. you make a tiny, exasperated noise but don’t make to pull away. kageyama reaches down to pick you up, settling your thighs on either side of his hips as he maneuvers the pair of you towards the bathroom.

“food’ll be there when we’re done,” he mutters, gently placing you down on the side of the bathtub and reaching over to turn on the hot water. the steam rises in thick sheets from the surface of the water, and already, kageyama can feel his limbs loosening at the thought of a nice, long soak. he catches you watching as he strips off his practice clothes.

“see something interesting?” his voice is so measured you’d never know he’s teasing, save for the tiniest hint of mischief in his eyes. you blush and look away, tugging off your own clothes in an attempt to distract yourself. the water sloshes around his ankles as he steps into the bath, and you join him a second later, curling up against his chest as he winds his arms around you, the pair of you settling against each other like nesting spoons, cut perfectly for each other’s every bend and curve. or perhaps like russian dolls, one encasing the other — wholly and completely.

“when’s practice tomorrow?” you ask, turning to watch him lean back, his eyes falling shut to the soft trickle of water over skin. you know the answer, and so does he. but he shifts and answers you anyway.

“not till noon.”

“good,” you say, turning back to rest your head on his shoulder, “we can have a proper breakfast.”

“we always have a proper breakfast.”

you laugh, absently walking your fingers up the length of his bent leg, drawing tiny circles on his exposed knee, poking out of the water like a pale island amidst the green-tinted water.

“i can grill mackerel tomorrow — i’ll have the time.”

outside, the moon is white and full with love, the sky bloated with countless shimmering stars. inside the gentle quiet of your home, kageyama leans forward to trail a kiss to the bend of your bare shoulder; you reach back to cup his cheek. when he turns your face for yet another kiss, it is sleepy and happy, long and lazy. full, weighted, soaked through with the kind of surrender only known to those who love and are in love.

“the food’ll really be cold —” you gasp, twisting away from kageyama’s growingly insistent lips, “if we keep going like this.”

he makes a slightly irked noise before caging you back against him with a deep frown, “you said so yourself — we’ve got time tomorrow. so —” he leans in to bump his nose against yours, waiting for permission. you chew on your lips for a second longer before conceding. and he’s right — isn’t that what microwaves are for?

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daenysx · 29 days

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hi lovely ! i have a request ! i'm a sucker for comforting others so could you do another fic like glossy eyes of a pretty boy but sfw and slightly different? i was thinking maybe james loses a quidditch match and maybe has a panic attack or is just really worked up so rem and siri have to come get us to go calm him down :((( he's my baby i love him so bad !!! and ofc if you don't want to you don't have to !!! ty my lovely ! <3

i hope you enjoy, thank you for requesting, angel <33333

james potter x fem!reader, sfw (they are just kissing through the end but nothing else)

you're trying to focus on what you're writing when sirius appears. his hair is messed up from running, you look at him through curious eyes. "what's wrong?" you ask.

"hey, gorgeous." he says first. he takes a seat next to you and tries to catch his breath. "sorry- i'll tell you in a second."

"do you want some water?" you ask, giggling. he shakes his head. "i'm fine, i'm fine."

"something happened?"

"what's that?" he asks you before answering your question. his finger points the books in front of you.

"i'm trying to finish the potions essay." you say. "it's not going really well."

"um- do you mind taking a break?" sirius asks, his breathing turns into normal each second. "prongs might need your company."

"what happened to him?" you worry. "is he okay?"

sirius tries to fix his hair with useless fingers. "yeah, but- he's a bit upset. the meeting we had for the next match didn't go well, the new ones in team kinda messed with his head, i guess."

"where is he?" you ask him as you start collecting your things. sirius takes your book bag to his shoulder as he leads the way to their room.

you knew james was nervous for the next match, it's against slytherin and most of the time a fight or an argument is inevitable. what's weird is that the argument happening inside the gryffindor team. james hates when something goes wrong in the game because of personal conflicts, he doesn't like mixing things together.

the walk is not long, sirius walks with you until the common room. you can spot remus sitting on the couch as you step in. his arms are crossed, his long legs placed on the small table in front.

"hi, remus." you say when he sees you.

"hi." he says with a remuslike smile. "thanks for coming so fast."

"is he okay?" you ask him. sirius puts your bag on the couch before settling down next to remus.

"he's okay, besides going insane over the match." remus answers. "i've never seen prongs panicking too much, i mean it's just a game right?"

"it's never just a game, beloved moony." sirius shakes his head. "the team is literally being sabotaged by itself, it's worse than losing against slytherin."

"i'm gonna check up on him." you tell them, accepting their brief nods as answer.

you knock on the door before entering. james doesn't reply. when you open the door and take a gentle step inside, he lifts his head. he doesn't say anything until you walk towards him.

"hi, jamie." you say, softly. "can i come in?"

it's normally a stupid question, you already came in. you just don't want to bother james if he wants to be alone. he nods. he's sitting on his messed up bed, his glasses thrown aside just like his tie. his shirt lost a few top buttons, and you can see the red in his pretty eyes when you're this close.

you stand in front of james, almost between his parted legs. he extends a shaky hand to pull you closer. the room reflects his mood, you think, you've never seen it so messy.

james looks at you briefly before putting his head on your belly. his weak arms are wrapped around your hips to keep you, your hands quickly go to his head to let him know it's okay. he can cry if he wants to, or scream, even though he seems like he's lacking the energy for it. he stays there until he breathes right. you rub the tense muscles of his shoulder with your one hand as your other hand strokes his hair.

"thank you for coming." he says with a rough voice. "i know you had work to do."

you cup his cheek to lift his head. your thumb rubs the angry tears on his face until it's dry. "my work isn't more important than you."

"thanks."

you give him a smile. it doesn't reach your eyes but james will understand. "do you wanna talk about it? the boys said a few things about the match but i don't really know what happened."

james shakes his head. "i can tell you later." he says. "i really don't wanna hear anything about the bloody match."

you give him a quick nod. he reaches for your hand.

"can you-" he sniffs. "can we lay down for a minute?"

"of course, baby." you say. "for as long as you want."

you help james put his head on your chest as you find a nice position to cuddle him. your arms around him feel safe, you can't see his face properly but you know he tries to calm down by taking in your familiar scent.

he's so precious, your boy. you like how passionate he is for the things he loves, he pushes himself hard until he is where he wants to be. you know it's stressful, being a solid part of a team and trying to make new people get along. james is the sunshine, he's easygoing and charming, but when he gets upset, it's hard to turn back to his normal self. he needs some time.

you play with his hair until he goes lax in your arms. his pent up energy slowly disappears. he drags his hand to your waist to rub the skin he can reach through your shirt.

you can almost count his eyelashes with this angle. he's gorgeous, even when he's mad. you think this is the real magic. he truly is a magical being, and it has nothing to do with the things he can do with his wand. you like how he's deep in his emotions, all of them, he lives bravely, never backs down from feeling anything. he'll be okay, he can stay here as long as he wants.

the kisses you press on his hair are soothing, you need to lift your head to reach him but it's fine. there are no words, just you and just him.

james sits on bed with slow motions when it becomes bearable. you watch him. "i'm okay." he says. "i'm sorry for worrying you."

"we were worried about you, but it's okay if you feel better." you say to him. he gets as comfortable as he can to settle down on top of your body to give you a good kiss, the kind of kiss that messes with his breathing and quickens his heartbeat. you cup his cheeks, thumbs drawing half moons on his skin. he's so soft now, no hurt feelings left. he closes his eyes to you, his lips conveying every thought he doesn't need to talk about anymore.

"everything will work out with the team." you say when he breaks the kiss. "you only need to be patient, my love. you'll do so well. you'll win the match."

james nods before putting his head on the crook of your neck. "remus is saying the same thing." he tells you. "i know we can beat them and- i only want everyone in team to feel that way."

"i think they already do." you believe what you say. "it must be stressful for everyone."

"yes. probably." james accepts. "we need more time."

"that's right." you agree. "can i bring you something to eat? i think we missed dinner."

"oh." he lifts his head. he was so deep in his sulking, he didn't realize how much time you spent next to him. "i'm sorry, angel. i totally forgot. i'll go get us something to eat."

"i'm not really hungry." you smile. "but food always makes you feel better, so..."

you're teasing and suddenly everything feels normal. james kisses your cheek and leaves his bed. "you always make me feel better." he says, such a romantic, he's down bad. "i'm so lucky to have you."

you blush under his gaze. your fingers try to fix the buttons of his shirt. "come on, potter, i decided i'm starving now. you also need to see sirius and remus, they were worried."

james holds your hand. "let's go then."

#james potter #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james x you #james x reader #james x fem!reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #sirius black #remus lupin

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pressureplus · 1 month

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Ourmmm can I request a headcanon of nicknames Sebastion and the reader would give each other? Only if ur not busy of course 🙏🏾

This one's really cute, absolutely! nobody has any need to be shy here! ❤️

We're here for the fish content.

💖Sebastian Solace Nickname Headcannons💖

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

If You're Enemies:

• He's mean to most people but he's AWFUL to you

• Half of the things he uses to refer to you are curse words

• Bastard, Dumbass, Dickhead, ect... He can't even be bothered a good portion of the time, not with you

• And then there's days where he's feeling EXTRA

• "You look like your mother dropped you into a plinko machine."

• "Do you always act like you crawled out of the dredges of 4Chan?"

• "Oh, there's my favorite little insect!"

• The second he finds out you have mommy issues, he calls you motherless. You're missing your left eye, hand, leg, or ear? He'll call you Righty. Deformities and Mutations alike, he's petty and likes to take cheap shots

• Chance to call you by your name: 0%

If You're Acquaintances:

• You're probably a buyer, so Patron, Customer, Unfortunate Guest, and Expendable are all on the table

• If you work with him religiously, he might call you something special like 'Traitor' or 'Survivor'

• Customer Service says "try make sale", so he's most often short but sweet. Most of his mean commentary comes out when you're not in the shop

• "Oh, now, There's just the person I wanted to see! Welcome back."

• Doesn't talk to you much, so there isn't a ton of things he really calls you, you're towing a pretty neutral line

• Chance to call you by your name: 60%

If You're Friends:

• Actually genuinely wants you around, so now you get actual, meaningful interactions with this man other than buisness!

• He calls you Stupid and he calls you Clumsy, even occasionally calling you Reckless, Dummy, or Sucker

• If you're a little goblin, he calls you Crawler and Vermin

• And then he turns around and calls you Bestie, Favorite, and even Treat

• "Well if it isn't the Star of the Show!"

• Tends to lean towards positive interactions, as having someone he can truly call a friend to him makes him feel a little better about living in a place like this

• Chance to call you by your name: 40%

If You're Lovers:

• Oh God what have you done? How did you even get this far?

• He's SMOTHERING as a lover, and this absolutely extends to the way he refers to you

• Before, when you were Idiot, Crawler, or Treat? Now you're his little Idiot, Crawler or Treat

• "Is that my little star I see over there?"

• "Ah, there you are, my treasure, I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

• "There's my sweet little light, what are you doing?"

• "Are you doing well, my love? You aren't hurt?"

• "If it isn't my darling little diver."

• Likes that he's bigger than you not to emphasize that you're tiny and sweet to him

• Still hits you with something mean every now and then, probably poking fun at you in some way, most likely as an inside joke or a nickname from wherever your relationship started

• (RIP if y'all started as enemies, he's still going to be a bitch to you on his Extra days, it's a funny habit now... Though I guess now it's playful so you win some you lose some, right?)

• I'm sure you wouldn't have it any other way, you know the sassy fish you decided to keep very well by now

• Chance to call you by your name: 5%

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dawns-beauty · 8 months

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Okay, to counteract all my complaining, here are some (lore friendly) mods that I just like a lot (no animals, people, weapons/armors, mesh/texture replacers, etc. because there's too many and it gets boring.)

Ghosts of the Deathbells: adds a really rare, somber event to picking a deathbell flower.

Falmeroon: adds Snow Elf ruins to some remote edges of the map. I've made an unofficial SE port here.

Snow Whale Bones: adds the remains of Snow Whales in some mountainous areas (iffy canon but sorry they are Cool.)

Windmills of Skyrim: adds windmills with unique, custom-painted sails to farms.

Scarecrows of Skyrim: adds scarecrows to farms.

Scribes of Skyrim: makes books and notes use a variety of typefaces (any fellow Pentiment fans out there?)

The Old Ways-Nordic Religion: adds totems representing the Nordic pantheon around Skyrim. Has patches for the next recommendation.

The Great Towns/Villages series: overhauls the smaller, worldspace towns in a really cool way, includes voice-acted NPCs. Personally, I like Kynesgrove the best because it actually adds to the lore about the Nordic pantheon. For Shor's Stone, I recommend this mod as well.

Redbag's Rorikstead: I like this mod over Great Village's version because the houses have sod roofs and I'm a sucker for sod roofs.

Capital Windhelm Expansion: adds some really thoughtful lore touches (Dunmer refugees outside the walls, an Arena, and a cool vampire quest)

Relic of Dawnstar: adds a Gehenoth skull to the White Hall (requires Cities of the North), inspired by the lore of the Travels game

Environs series: thoughtful additions that makes certain places change over time.

WiZKid's mods: especially Lund's Hut, Lively Farms, Icy Windhelm, Pinewatch, Hall of the Dead Stained Glass Windows, and Pavo's House. Sepolcri is also pretty good but loses immersion points for using celtic cross gravestones. You can pry Lanterns of Skyrim II from my cold, dead hands, though. Lux? Idk her, LoSII is my bestie.

Fancy Sleeping Tree Replacer: the Sleeping Tree is supposed to be a remnant of the sentient trees of the flying city of Umbriel (from the novels.) It should be weird, is what I'm saying, and this mod makes it alien and beautiful.

Unique Culture Riverwood: a mod that gives Riverwood its own style of farmhouse and a little more personality. The author has also made a mod for Falkreath.

Immersive World Encounters: adds more and edits World Encounters, including encountering faction NPCs out and about (ex. the Companions outside of Whiterun doing Companion-y things in the wilderness).

Glorious Doors of Skyrim: adds some really cool doors. 'nuff said.

Redbag's Dragonreach: adds some unique flair to Jarl Ballin's crib.

Cultured Orc Furniture: replaces generic furniture in Orc Strongholds with custom furniture.

Lavinia's Memorial: adds some gifts from her grieving parents to the little girl's grave in Falkreath. Ouch.

Nocturnal Moths: adds moths that spawn around lanterns at night.

Moons and Stars: fixes the positions of the stars and moons, as well as making moon phases consistent.

DK's Realistic Nord Ships: replaces Skyrim's ships with some gorgeous new models.

Morgenstern's Mushroom Circles: adds more fairy rings in the wilderness. Delightful!

Bloodmoon Brodir Grove: makes the grove in Solstheim a little more like it was in the Morrowind DLC. The mod author also has more mods that bring Bloodmoon details and locations to Solstheim.

Ships of the Horizon: does what it says on the tin.

EVG Animation Variance: the whole animation series by Everglaid is nice (haven't tried Traversal yet, but that is some incredible technology) but I especially like this one for the old people animations

jasperthegnome's houses: these are SO cozy and comfy.

Arctic- Frost Effects Redux: makes frost spells have cooler effects (including 3D ice spikes)

Northern Roads- Let Me Guess Someone Stole Your Sweetroads: a plugin that cuts down on Northern Roads, removing all the landscape changes and bridges and just keeping the clutter. Way more compatible than the original mod.

Skyrim Bridges: this is my favorite bridge mod. There are many, but I like this one best.

Edit: forgot two tiny mods in my original post:

Nightcaller Temple Unique Shrine of Mara: replaces the generic shrine with a wooden shrine Erandur carved

Broken Tower Redoubt Unique Shrine of Dibella: similar to the above mod, but Reachmen carved this one.

#skyrim #skyrim mods #mod recs #tes

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

No, Uber's (still) not profitable

Going to Defcon this weekend? I'm giving a keynote, "An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet's Enshittification and Throw it Into Reverse," on Saturday at 12:30pm, followed by a book signing at the No Starch Press booth at 2:30pm!

https://info.defcon.org/event/?id=50826

Bezzle (n): 1. "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it" (JK Gabraith) 2. Uber.

Uber was, is, and always will be a bezzle. There are just intrinsic limitations to the profits available to operating a taxi fleet, even if you can misclassify your employees as contractors and steal their wages, even as you force them to bear the cost of buying and maintaining your taxis.

The magic of early Uber – when taxi rides were incredibly cheap, and there were always cars available, and drivers made generous livings behind the wheel – wasn't magic at all. It was just predatory pricing.

Uber lost $0.41 on every dollar they brought in, lighting $33b of its investors' cash on fire. Most of that money came from the Saudi royals, funneled through Softbank, who brought you such bezzles as WeWork – a boring real-estate company masquerading as a high-growth tech company, just as Uber was a boring taxi company masquerading as a tech company.

Predatory pricing used to be illegal, but Chicago School economists convinced judges to stop enforcing the law on the grounds that predatory pricing was impossible because no rational actor would choose to lose money. They (willfully) ignored the obvious possibility that a VC fund could invest in a money-losing business and use predatory pricing to convince retail investors that a pile of shit of sufficient size must have a pony under it somewhere.

This venture predation let investors – like Prince Bone Saw – cash out to suckers, leaving behind a money-losing business that had to invent ever-sweatier accounting tricks and implausible narratives to keep the suckers on the line while they blew town. A bezzle, in other words:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/19/fake-it-till-you-make-it/#millennial-lifestyle-subsidy

Uber is a true bezzle innovator, coming up with all kinds of fairy tales and sci-fi gimmicks to explain how they would convert their money-loser into a profitable business. They spent $2.5b on self-driving cars, producing a vehicle whose mean distance between fatal crashes was half a mile. Then they paid another company $400 million to take this self-licking ice-cream cone off their hands:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Amazingly, self-driving cars were among the more plausible of Uber's plans. They pissed away hundreds of millions on California's Proposition 22 to institutionalize worker misclassification, only to have the rule struck down because they couldn't be bothered to draft it properly. Then they did it again in Massachusetts:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/15/simple-as-abc/#a-big-ask

Remember when Uber was going to plug the holes in its balance sheet with flying cars? Flying cars! Maybe they were just trying to soften us up for their IPO, where they advised investors that the only way they'd ever be profitable is if they could replace every train, bus and tram ride in the world:

https://48hills.org/2019/05/ubers-plans-include-attacking-public-transit/

Honestly, the only way that seems remotely plausible is when it's put next to flying cars for comparison. I guess we can be grateful that they never promised us jetpacks, or, you know, teleportation. Just imagine the market opportunity they could have ascribed to astral projection!

Narrative capitalism has its limits. Once Uber went public, it had to produce financial disclosures that showed the line going up, lest the bezzle come to an end. These balance-sheet tricks were as varied as they were transparent, but the financial press kept falling for them, serving as dutiful stenographers for a string of triumphant press-releases announcing Uber's long-delayed entry into the league of companies that don't lose more money every single day.

One person Uber has never fooled is Hubert Horan, a transportation analyst with decades of experience who's had Uber's number since the very start, and who has done yeoman service puncturing every one of these financial "disclosures," methodically sifting through the pile of shit to prove that there is no pony hiding in it.

In 2021, Horan showed how Uber had burned through nearly all of its cash reserves, signaling an end to its subsidy for drivers and rides, which would also inevitably end the bezzle:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/10/unter/#bezzle-no-more

In mid, 2022, Horan showed how the "profit" Uber trumpeted came from selling off failed companies it had acquired to other dying rideshare companies, which paid in their own grossly inflated stock:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/05/a-lousy-taxi/#a-giant-asterisk

At the end of 2022, Horan showed how Uber invented a made-up, nonstandard metric, called "EBITDA profitability," which allowed them to lose billions and still declare themselves to be profitable, a lie that would have been obvious if they'd reported their earnings using Generally Accepted Accounting Principles (GAAP):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/11/bezzlers-gonna-bezzle/#gryft

Like clockwork, Uber has just announced – once again – that it is profitable, and once again, the press has credulously repeated the claim. So once again, Horan has published one of his magisterial debunkings on Naked Capitalism:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2023/08/hubert-horan-can-uber-ever-deliver-part-thirty-three-uber-isnt-really-profitable-yet-but-is-getting-closer-the-antitrust-case-against-uber.html

Uber's $394m gains this quarter come from paper gains to untradable shares in its loss-making rivals – Didi, Grab, Aurora – who swapped stock with Uber in exchange for Uber's own loss-making overseas divisions. Yes, it's that stupid: Uber holds shares in dying companies that no one wants to buy. It declared those shares to have gained value, and on that basis, reported a profit.

Truly, any big number multiplied by an imaginary number can be turned into an even bigger number.

Now, Uber also reported "margin improvements" – that is, it says that it loses less on every journey. But it didn't explain how it made those improvements. But we know how the company did it: they made rides more expensive and cut the pay to their drivers. A 2.9m ride in Manhattan is now $50 – if you get a bargain! The base price is more like $70:

https://www.wired.com/story/uber-ceo-will-always-say-his-company-sucks/

The number of Uber drivers on the road has a direct relationship to the pay Uber offers those drivers. But that pay has been steeply declining, and with it, the availability of Ubers. A couple weeks ago, I found myself at the Burbank train station unable to get an Uber at all, with the app timing out repeatedly and announcing "no drivers available."

Normally, you can get a yellow taxi at the station, but years of Uber's predatory pricing has caused a drawdown of the local taxi-fleet, so there were no taxis available at the cab-rank or by dispatch. It took me an hour to get a cab home. Uber's bezzle destroyed local taxis and local transit – and replaced them with worse taxis that cost more.

Uber won't say why its margins are improving, but it can't be coming from scale. Before the pandemic, Uber had far more rides, and worse margins. Uber has diseconomies of scale: when you lose money on every ride, adding more rides increases your losses, not your profits.

Meanwhile, Lyft – Uber's also-ran competitor – saw its margins worsen over the same period. Lyft has always been worse at lying about it finances than Uber, but it is in essentially the exact same business (right down to the drivers and cars – many drivers have both apps on their phones). So Lyft's financials offer a good peek at Uber's true earnings picture.

Lyft is actually slightly better off than Uber overall. It spent less money on expensive props for its long con – flying cars, robotaxis, scooters, overseas clones – and abandoned them before Uber did. Lyft also fired 24% of its staff at the end of 2022, which should have improved its margins by cutting its costs.

Uber pays its drivers less. Like Lyft, Uber practices algorithmic wage discrimination, Veena Dubal's term describing the illegal practice of offering workers different payouts for the same work. Uber's algorithm seeks out "pickers" who are choosy about which rides they take, and converts them to "ants" (who take every ride offered) by paying them more for the same job, until they drop all their other gigs, whereupon the algorithm cuts their pay back to the rates paid to ants:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

All told, wage theft and wage cuts by Uber transferred $1b/quarter from labor to Uber's shareholders. Historically, Uber linked fares to driver pay – think of surge pricing, where Uber charged riders more for peak times and passed some of that premium onto drivers. But now Uber trumpets a custom pricing algorithm that is the inverse of its driver payment system, calculating riders' willingness to pay and repricing every ride based on how desperate they think you are.

This pricing is a per se antitrust violation of Section 2 of the Sherman Act, America's original antitrust law. That's important because Sherman 2 is one of the few antitrust laws that we never stopped enforcing, unlike the laws banning predator pricing:

https://ilr.law.uiowa.edu/sites/ilr.law.uiowa.edu/files/2023-02/Woodcock.pdf

Uber claims an 11% margin improvement. 6-7% of that comes from algorithmic price discrimination and service cutbacks, letting it take 29% of every dollar the driver earns (up from 22%). Uber CEO Dara Khosrowshahi himself says that this is as high as the take can get – over 30%, and drivers will delete the app.

Uber's food delivery service – a baling wire-and-spit Frankenstein's monster of several food apps it bought and glued together – is a loser even by the standards of the sector, which is unprofitable as a whole and experiencing an unbroken slide of declining demand.

Put it all together and you get a picture of the kind of taxi company Uber really is: one that charges more than traditional cabs, pays drivers less, and has fewer cars on the road at times of peak demand, especially in the neighborhoods that traditional taxis had always underserved. In other words, Uber has broken every one of its promises.

We replaced the "evil taxi cartel" with an "evil taxi monopolist." And it's still losing money.

Even if Lyft goes under – as seems inevitable – Uber can't attain real profitability by scooping up its passengers and drivers. When you're losing money on every ride, you just can't make it up in volume.

Image: JERRYE AND ROY KLOTZ MD (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LA_BREA_TAR_PITS,_LOS_ANGELES.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

I’m kickstarting the audiobook for “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation,” a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It’s a DRM-free book, which means Audible won’t carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/09/accounting-gimmicks/#unter

Image: JERRYE AND ROY KLOTZ MD (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LA_BREA_TAR_PITS,_LOS_ANGELES.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #bezzles #hubert horan #uber #rideshare #accounting tricks #financial engineering #late-stage capitalism #narrative capitalism #lyft #transit #uber eats #venture predation #algorithmic wage discrimination

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saltandfire-blog · 22 days

Text

All Time Favorite Lucemond Fics

Thought I’d post some baddies to help us heal from this last season.

ñuhon - When Lucerys lives and wakes up to oblivion, Aemond decides that—more than an eye for an eye—Lucerys in his entirety would be for Aemond to completely own.

In other words: Omega Lucerys survives yet loses his memories, and Alpha Aemond takes his revenge on him creatively.

Holy fuck, this might actually be one my favorite fics of all time. INCREDIBLY well written and perhaps one of the most tragic/romantic lucemond pieces I’ve ever read. I also find myself adoring the Daeron/Joffrey dynamic that is unexpectedly thrown in that I didn’t know I wanted.

all I had to give - Lucerys has waited for Aemond to find him again since his fall. He is only surprised it took this long.

I think this was technically my first a/b/o lucemond verse fic that blew my heart away. Aemond and Luke’s portrayal in this might actually be my favorite. And the added Alysmond is a +❤️

real gods require blood - Before King Viserys I Targaryen draws his last breath, the Greens make their move. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family find themselves prisoners in the Red Keep, cut off from their dragons and at the mercy of a new king.

Terrified of what fate awaits his family, Lucerys Velaryon turns to the only person at court willing to help him, no matter the price he has to pay.

Or: Lucerys offers himself in exchange for his family’s safety. Aemond could never refuse.

Not only is this fucking incredible to read, it might be my favorite smutty fic out there. The dialogue between Aemond and Luke just hits sooooo amazingly, this is one of those fics I go back to regularly to reread. I await the authors part 2 of this with baited breath!

Consanguinity - When the bastard Addam of Hull claims Seasmoke, it throws House Velaryon into disarray. All except Corlys, who spies the perfect opportunity to help his heir out of the delicate situation he has found himself in with an impromptu suggestion.

Though quite why Prince Aemond seems so affronted by the match is anyone’s guess.

Speaking of fics I go back to reread - this is definitely another one!! @nashiriel is an absolutely incredible writer and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this! I don’t like to spoil other people’s work…but I love a pregnant Lucerys a/b/o verse with a deliciously angsty twist ❤️

Divenire - Lucerys survives Storm's End however now he needs to survive Aemond, his obsession over a debt paid and the Dance of the Dragons.

This is one of the first Lucerys/Aemond fics that blew my mind. Is it insanely demented and toxic? Yes. Is it amazingly well written? YES! You decide if it’s your cup of tea, but I always return back to this one every once in a while when I want a pure hate no happy ending fic.

Heir of the Tides series - In 120 AC, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye to his nephew. In 129 AC, he demands the price to be paid.

Later on, Lucerys Velaryon will tell his mother that it was a fair exchange. (or, the author went out and wrote the eye fic she so wanted to read).

I admit, I am an absolute sucker for the idea of Luke taking his own eye out. Add on top of that a Luke who takes more of a role in his Velaryon inheritance - and can’t forget the battle of the Gullet 🤌🏻 !! Definitely a series to invest in.

Life for life, eye for eye - Aemond finds his nephew, somehow surviving the death of his dragon over Shipbreaker Bay, washed ashore, an empty socket where his right eye should be. The message, to Aemond, is obvious: the gods have given Luke to him, to do with him as he sees fit.

Meanwhile, when Luke wakes up, prisoner to his uncle, his world quickly narrows to one thing and one thing alone: surviving, so he can return to his mother, and the rest of his family, alive.

In which Aemond surpasses Daemon for title of 'worst uncle' by several miles and Luke suffers.

Ok so please beware, this is about as dark as it gets. If you’re triggered easily, this isn’t the fic for you. It explores extreme Lima and Stockholm syndrome forsure, but if you’re into this ship I’m sure you must know it consists of a broad spectrum of very dark, toxic fics, and this is one that just so happens is amazingly well written. Please keep in mind, if you don’t like, don’t fucking read.

Portrait of a Prince on Fire - Ser Luke Strong, legitimised bastard of the lord of Harrenhal, has found favour at the sumptuous court of Viserys I as a court painter. But he is also Lucerys Waters, unacknowledged bastard of Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. The secret of his true parentage and the life he could’ve had eats him up, and he drowns his regrets in drink and brawling.

Prince Aemond hasn’t been seen outside court since he lost his eye, over a decade ago. Now he is about to be wed — and the king commissions Luke to paint the portrait that will be sent to Aemond’s betrothed.

They hate each other at first sight — but as Viserys lies dying, the portrait sets them on a collision course that will send them spiralling inexorably together. And as the realm descends into war, they will have to decide whether to hold on to each other as the world they knew begins to shatter.

Another fic I am completely obsessed with! @fruitageoforanges has probably written one of my all time favorite portrayals of Aemond and I love the refreshing take on Lucerys I’ve never seen done before in this ship. A 17th century AU that has an awesome amount of fashion I adore and is an absolute must read 😉❤️

Star-Crossed - Lucerys is taken captive by the Greens after his fall. When Aemond is assigned as his constant guard, and so constant companion, the romance that blooms between them spins the Dance of the Dragons on its head.

Or: two young lovers from rival factions of the royal family come together in a violent world.

I can’t list off lucemond fics without giving this one an honorable mention.

Dirección de la Luz - A decade had passed since Hwa Yeong was exiled from Yin. He had traveled through the entire empire three times and still had not found his death.

Until one day he met the dragon prince.

Or: Pregnant and solely with the company of his dragon Arrax, Lucerys Velaryon travels to the Yi Ti Empire and begins a new life away from his family and Aemond Targaryen.

A fic published in Spanish, but there is a translated version linked or you can translate yourself as I found myself doing because this story drew me in SO hard I couldn’t wait for the translator to update lol. This is such an original idea and SO fascinating to read with the authors portrayal of Yi Ti culture with such amazing detail!! I can’t give this author enough praise and encouragement to keep going!

the beast you’ve made of me - Lucerys Velaryon is no coward. He is frightened. He is alone. He is a bastard. He is a prisoner of a war he would do anything to stop. But he is no coward.

Lucerys survives Shipbreaker Bay. Aemond is baptised in the storm. This is the aftermath.

If you want Team Green Lucerys, this is your story. When you have to join the enemy to save your family with long term goals, Luke really goes through it in this one, but the political seesaw between his love for Aemond and his family is fabulous to read unfold 🤌🏻

Hope I’ve given you guys some beauties to read if you haven’t already 💎🗡️🩸

Lucemond is a beautiful, terrible place 😉

(Tried to @ as many as I could that are here on tumblr)

#lucemond #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #fire and blood #lucemond favorites #lucerys velaryon x aemond targaryen #lucemond fanfiction #lucerys x aemond #remember: don’t like don’t read!#hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction

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sunnylands-world · 1 year

Note

the most hardcore smut you can make

i'm a sucker for your smut i'm sorry-

Mine

Pairing: draco malfoy x FEM reader

Summary: you wanted to be a brat so you'll just have to be put in your place for it…

Word count: 976

Warning: p in v, possessive draco, jealous draco, bratty reader, spitting, choking

Universe: Hogwarts

A/n: I hope you and everyone liked this. It's been a long time coming and I'm sorry about that. Hopefully this was worth the wait my loves…

You read the warnings if you continue to read. I'm not to be held responsible.

Comments, reblogs, and inboxes are appreciated and motivational

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Draco wasn't the type of guy to dance. He never really learned and he couldn't say he cared for it. you tugged at his sleeve pouting and begging him to dance just once but he wasn't one to change his mind so he told you no again. You huffed standing to your feet turning to him as you said

"Fine, if you won't dance I'll find another guy who will happily let me grind against him" and with that you walked away.

Who did you think you were?

Clearly you forgot who you belonged to but Draco didn't grab you then he let you play out your little act knowing you'd regret it later.

His eyebrows were knitted and the look in his eyes meant warning but you didn't care grinding your ass against the guy as he enjoyed himself looking like a kid in a candy store as he held your waist smiling far too happy to be touching something that wasn't his.

You smirked, adding extra sway to your hips as you looked at him and he stared back before nodding and walking off. He could tell you looked surprised as he headed towards his room.

When the party music got low he knew it was just a matter of time before you showed up and as if you heard his thoughts you knocked the door timidly.

He gave nothing away as he opened it and he saw the look of fear in your eyes which only fueled the need to punish you and as the door closed your back hit it making you gasp.

"Draco what are you-"

"Don't play dumb little girl, you know what you did" he says, cutting you off as his hands cup your face, puckering your lips into a pout as his thumb brushes over the bottom one.

"You're gonna swallow like a good girl" he says before spitting into your mouth and you know better than to test him swallowing and he gives your cheek a firm pat.

"Too bad you were so bad I was going to make this fun but I guess I will do that next time, hmm?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sound of your moaning, coupled with Draco’s brutal thrust, fuel his own desire, making it nearly impossible to resist your pleas for more as he slams his cock into your needy pussy. You're tears streaming down your cheeks as you cry for him to slow down, that you can't take anymore.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel him reaching places that make you see stars, your pussy weeping, coating his length in your juices.

His face rests in the crook of your neck, whispering sweet nothings with his heavy breaths, ignoring your overstimulation. Your hands explore his back, nails caressing the muscles as they flex with the motion of his body, sending shivers through him to where he almost caves with the feeling of your touch.

With a mix of possession and lust, he comes from your neck eyes pouring into yours, giving you that sweet feeling deep in your belly once again. As his hardened length hits the spongy spot deep inside you. He can't help but groan in pleasure as you tighten around him, your walls throbbing weakly.

"Fuck," he growls, his voice laced with need. "I love feeling you wrapped around me, losing myself inside you while you look like you can’t take it." He moans

“But I know you can cause you were made to take this cock” he finishes, his eyes filled with possession wrapping his hand around your throat slowing your air supply and you wonder if you're well as you moan at the pressure.

He knows you can take it, you fucking love it and he may seem far gone but he pays attention to the look in your eyes and shake of your body telling him you like this.

"You're fucking mine" he mutters and you nod telling him your his.

With a sense of urgency, his pace quickens if that’s even possible, the heat of your core radiating against his throbbing length causes him to twitch inside your pussy as you whine.

“That’s right, tell me how good it feels pretty girl” he says, taking note of the high pitch sounds leaving you. you look so pretty with your face twisted in pleasure and it makes him more feral with his pace because he just needs to be buried inside that pretty pussy of yours.

His hair is ruined, a strand hanging over his forehead glistening with sweat.

He brings his hand down between you, fingers finding your clit easily in between your messy folds as he rubs tight, frantic, circles, smirking when you scream louder arching your back.

A guttural moan escapes his lips as he feels your walls clench around him, welcoming him into your depths. He can't help but revel in the sensations that consume him. The feeling of your body against his, the sound of yours and his mingling breaths, it all adds to the intensity of your connection.

With each thrust, he seeks to bring you more pleasure, to make you moan and writhe beneath him.

Draco grips the sheet beside your head, ensuring that every stroke is one of bliss and ecstasy for you.

In this moment, there are only you two, lost in a world of raw passion, desire, and possession. As your bodies move together, Draco can't help but feel grateful for the privilege of sharing this intimate connection with you, knowing that he gets to fuck you like this, gets to see you fall over the edge, and fill you to the brim, marking your throbbing walls with his cum.

You're his and you're gonna feel it as he makes you scream his name like the good girl you are.

His good girl…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━©Sunnylands-world this belongs to me therefore you don't have the right to do anything with my work or ideas without permission.

Draco lovers and requests

@alexxavicry,@kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @phildunphyisadilf, @lovelycassy

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco x reader #draco imagine #malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #draco fluff #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor!reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n

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wnderkoo · 1 year

Text

LOVE ME | JJK

୨୧ I guess I'm just a sucker for love.

this is a part of my drabble series, read more here!

Jeon Jungkook is so dead.

You don't care about the fact that you're barging through the men's locker room or that fifteen pairs of eyes are on you as you walk past them and right up to a smug face that lights up when it sees you.

"Hey, baby."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you come to stand right in front of him. The height difference has your head tilting up.

"Did you like the flowers?" he asks, throwing a shirt on over his head. His hair is wet from a shower, that along with the smell of his soap is making being mad at him all the more difficult.

"Yes, they were beautiful. Thank you," you grumble, feeling your goal slipping away from you with every word.

You'd barged in here, flustered after what had happened just mere moments before, but Jungkook had a way of distracting you and making you lose all rationality.

Jungkook was captain of the hockey team, and you'd come to watch his game like the proud girlfriend you were.

Never one to parade your relationship around, not many people knew that you and Jungkook were dating. He was popular and major-league bound, so you weren't the only one with his name and number on your back, so you weren't worried about being called out.

However, someone had other plans.

At the beginning of the game, someone had handed you a bouquet of flowers, with a suggestive note from Jungkook detailing what he wanted to do if he won. You rolled your eyes despite the smile on your face and pocketed the note.

After three periods on the edge of your seat, Jungkook scored the game-winning goal. Everyone in the stadium had erupted in their seats, screaming and cheering, and just as the noise had started to simmer, Jungkook lifted his hockey stick and pointed it right at you, yelling out 'I love you, baby!'.

The stadium had erupted again.

Your cheeks had never been so hot, thankfully the stadium had cleared out not long after the whole incident.

You immediately went down to the change rooms to give him a piece of your mind. You were lucky that you'd barged in when all the guys had at least boxers or more on.

When Jungkook first saw you, he was surprised, but a part of him knew you would have something to say about his declaration of love on the ice.

Your fire was one thing he loved about you most.

When you came storming in, looking like you were ready to tear him a new one, he was smitten. He didn't care if his friends were watching, or the fact that he knew they would give him shit for it later, Jungkook didn't care.

When you're in front of him, little else matters.

"Did you enjoy pulling that little stunt?" you ask, resolve already crumbling as Jungkook wraps his arms lazily around your waist, holding you flush against him.

"I did, actually," he replies smugly.

"I got to tell the world that I'm in love with you."

Ugh, you hated his charming words.

"Now all your fangirls will be after me," you joke, deciding to abandon your fake annoyance. It's not like you were getting anywhere anyway.

"You don't need to worry about them. You know you're my dream girl."

By now, the rest of the guys have moved on, deciding to give you two some privacy as they finish getting changed. Not that you're paying them any attention when Jungkook is right in front of you.

"You're so cheesy, Jeon Jungkook."

Your words carry a teasing tone to them, despite the butterflies that erupt in your chest at just how much his words affect you.

The smiles on your faces are identical as Jungkook leans in for a kiss.

"What can I say? I'm just a man in love."

short lil drabble for you guys, let me know if you enjoyed it :)

🏷️ : @moonstar127 @royallyjjk

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suskz · 4 days

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no i.n. fics is crazy.. he's so pookie

well ill be the first then 😼 i.n. x reader where like, everyone in skz knows they like each other except them cause they're both stupid losers pining? make the fluff so sweet that I lose all my teeth from cavities (im mentally insane)

tyty love ya babes 💋

Just friends?

pairing: Jeongin x fem!Reader

w/c: 2,5k

t/w: fluff ; Jeongin is just a cute little baby bread ; friends can kiss ; innie is a sucker for physical touch (yours).

a/n: I’M BAAACK (I guess???) Y’ALL!! *awkward silence*. We all love soft clingy innie! I’m so, so sorry for the wait! Hope you enjoy!

It’s so sudden that both of you jump slightly in place. The door opens, and the voice is heard in the room —if not throughout the entire apartment— before the figure can even be seen: “Stop fucking!” It’s Changbin’s voice, loud and clear, “And do something useful, it’s your turn to go grocery shopping today.” His tone lowers, becoming normal.

You’re half-lying on the bed while Jeongin has his head resting on your chest and one leg thrown over yours, as you both scroll through your phones, occasionally showing each other funny videos you find.

Jeongin rolls his eyes at his words and groans, “Do we really have to?” He complains.

You, on the other hand, have flushed cheeks and try to discreetly hide your ears.

“Actually,” the older one begins, thinking, “Y/n doesn’t have to because she did it last week. You get up and go now; there’s nothing in the fridge.”

At his words, Jeongin’s hands tighten around your sweatshirt into fists, and his face snaps in your direction, “No, you’re coming with me, right?” He asks so quickly it seems desperate. And it’s phrased as a question, but you don’t really have a choice; he would take you with him anyway.

You smirk, “Aw, is baby afraid to go to the supermarket alone?” You pout at him playfully and take his face in your hands.

He pouts like a child, and you bite your lip to keep from smiling at his cuteness, but you fail, and your lips curve upward.

“Since you’re teasing me, I’ll go ask Hyunjin hyung to come with me.” He holds back from calling you a ‘jerk’, but just as he gets up, you pull him back down and place an arm over his body to stop him from leaving.

“Is baby upset now?” You hold back a laugh that would only annoy him more.

“Let me go.” He demands, even though he could easily leave on his own since you’re not really putting much strength into your hold.

“Chill, I’ll come with you.”

He doesn’t change his expression and doesn’t say anything in response. You place your hand on his head and ruffle his hair energetically, messing it up, and he starts squirming under your touch.

His eyes squeeze shut, his lips form a thin line, and his nose scrunches up.

“Get a room.” Changbin teases, and although his voice sounds disgusted, you can clearly sense the little smile on his lips.

You stop moving your hand, “We’re already in a room.” you state.

“Ah, right, I’ll just leave then.” he says just before closing the door and walking away quickly, his footsteps clearly audible to the both of you.

“I hate you.” Jeongin mutters as he fixes his hair.

“You love me.” You smile, turning your eyes back to your phone screen.

His eyes linger on you for a few seconds, his movements stopping. A sparkle passes through them, and a thought, ‘Yes, I do’, runs through his mind, but he quickly hides it, afraid that you might read it in his eyes —even though you’re not even looking at him.

He quickly settles back next to you on the bed, this time lying a bit farther from you, turned in the opposite direction from where you’re sitting. You give him a confused look, even though he can’t see you.

“I think I’ll take a nap, I’m tired.” he mutters with his eyes closed.

You don’t comment on the fact that he didn’t seem so tired a little while ago; instead, you move closer to him and place your face in front of his.

His eyes open, “What?” he asks, sounding more annoyed than he meant to.

You pucker your lips, “Aren’t you going to give me a kiss?” you ask.

“Always so demanding.” he rolls his eyes with a smirk, lifting his head slightly to give you a quick peck on the lips before resting his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes again.

You smile with satisfaction. You really find it sweet that the two of you share this kind of intimacy in friendship. You don’t even remember how it started; you just know that by now, it’s not strange to see the two of you share a quick kiss on various occasions, even in simple moments like this one.

After all, what’s a quick peck between friends?

You sit back up with him facing away from you.

And you watch him, maybe for a moment too long because he speaks, “I can see that you’re staring,” he states, “What are you daydreaming about?” he asks you with a mischievous grin.

You feel a sense of embarrassment, and your cheeks heat up. “I just want to touch your hair, it’s so soft.” you admit.

“Heh, I know. Do you like my new haircut?” he asks you with a curious smile, turning to look at you.

“Too much.” you reply, feeding off his happiness and pride.

Then, eventually, you gently thread your fingers through his soft hair, feeling him relax and lean into your touch.

You know perfectly well how much he loves having his hair stroked —even though he claims otherwise— and how much it helps him fall asleep.

You smile and decide to join him, lying down behind him and wrapping your arms around his body.

Jeongin feels his body grow warmer and his stomach flip, but he remains still and relaxes when one of your hands intertwines with his fingers, soon falling asleep in your arms.

—

“Oh, shit.” Jeongin mutters, watching the heavy rain outside from inside the supermarket.

“We don’t have an umbrella, do we?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

That’s why you find yourselves running through the heavy rain, trying to get home as quickly as possible.

You’re soaked from head to toe, and the sidewalk is so slippery that it was inevitable you’d fall.

Jeongin stops and quickly reaches you to help, “Aish, you’re so clumsy!” He bends down to give you a hand, first moving his hair out of his face.

“I’m slowing you down,” you lift your head and extend an arm towards him in a gesture of surrender, “You go on ahead, soldier; I’ll carry on when I have the strength,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

His stunned expression makes you burst into the laughter you were holding back. He watches the way your face crinkles and hears your voice rise so loudly that it’s clearly audible over the sound of the rain, which has become just background noise.

And it’s as if a ray of sunshine has settled right above you, just the two of you, with your clear voice managing to brighten even the worst moments.

Your laughter causes him to laugh as well, and he collapses onto the ground in front of you, ending up on his knees.

And it’s so sudden that for a moment it frightened you, that warmth you felt in your chest upon hearing his vibrant voice and seeing his almost carefree, smiling expression.

“Come on, get up now, we can’t stay here.” He says gently, helping you to your feet.

You sigh in frustration, “I can’t, my shoes are hurting my feet.” You admit, letting a small plea show in your voice, hoping he might help you, giving him puppy eyes.

And so, for the rest of the way home, he runs and you ride on his back.

He was actually about to leave you there and continue on his own, but in the end, he took pity on you after your persistent pleading.

“You’re so exhausting!” He complains when you both cross the apartment door.

You giggle, sniffling, and thank him. “I owe you a favor.”

“You say that every time.” He gives you a look, “I’m going to take a shower, don’t bother me until I’m done.”

Seungmin appears just as Jeongin is leaving, “Woah.” He turns to you, “Did you walk in the rain?”

“We ran in the rain.” You correct him, emphasizing the word ‘ran’.

“I ran in the rain.” Jeongin states before turning the corner and heading into the bathroom.

At the thought of what happened only a little while ago, you feel your cheeks strangely warm up and a sense of embarrassment spread inside you. A peculiar embarrassment, especially for something like this.

Seungmin looks at you, and something flashes in his eyes, something you haven’t seen and wouldn’t have known how to interpret, “Do you like Jeongin?” he asks suddenly, so directly.

You should deny it, you know you should, but something inside you clicks with his words; hundreds of thoughts surrounded by a cloud of doubts.

You remain silent, perhaps for a second too long, and your answer seems to confuse you even more than you already are, “I don’t know.”

—

When Jeongin is sick, he’s always so dramatic. He always claims he’s dying from a headache, feeling faint, and lacking the strength to get out of bed.

All this for just a simple cold.

This time, you think back to all those times he’s said similar things, and you consider that he might not be entirely wrong. Maybe it’s the intense sensations he experiences that are making him seem delirious.

Why else would he wrap his arms around you, holding you from behind in such an intimate and affectionate way in front of others, if not unconsciously?

Anyone could walk into the kitchen and see you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Jeongin always claims he has a certain reputation to maintain and apparently, because of that, he can’t be too cuddly with you —though you don’t understand how that makes sense, you don’t complain about it. And Minho is even in the kitchen right now, but your sweet Jeongin doesn’t seem to care, as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Jeongin? Shouldn’t you be in bed now?” you ask, pausing for a second from stirring the hot broth in the pot on the stove, then resuming.

“I want you to stay in bed with me.” he admits.

“You don’t need me, to rest.” you assert, secretly melting at his touch and snuggling into his embrace with heated cheeks.

“And what if I told you that I do?”

Your heart skips a beat, and if he notices you stiffen in his arms, he doesn’t say anything.

“Go on, pretend I’m not here.” Minho comments sarcastically, but he’s ignored by both of you.

Jeongin whines, “Oh, come on! Come to bed with me! What’s the harm?” He whimpers like a child.

“I’m cooking you something to make you feel better; I can’t just leave it here.” You explain to him.

“Can’t Minho hyung take care of it?” He rests his chin on your shoulder, watching the inviting warm broth, speaking of the older one as if he weren’t there with you.

“I’m still here.” Minho chimes in for the second time, perhaps a bit annoyed by his behavior, and you turn in his direction, giving him an apologetic smile on behalf of the younger one.

“Minho is teaching me the recipe. I want to cook it myself, and you’ll tell me what you think.” You place one of your hands on his, an affectionate gesture, though slightly hesitant, and he seems to lean more into you, relaxing even more.

“I want to rest my head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat relaxes me.” He admits, ending the sentence in a whisper, and moves one of his hands to your chest, over your heart, “Oh, it’s beating a bit fast right now, are you alright?” He asks in a clearly concerned voice, turning to look at your face, but you turn your head away so he won’t see your obvious blush.

“Yes! I-I’m fine.” you stutter, shrinking away and squirming in his hold while he tries in every way to get a look at your face.

You hate how insistent he can be at times like this.

“Alright, lovebirds, at least try not to kiss in front of me; have some mercy on my eyes.” Minho rolls his eyes but can’t hide the grin forming on his lips.

“We’ve already done it.” Jeongin reminds him, and you ponder on whether you should feel embarrassed or just treat it as the normal thing it is —at least for the two of you.

Jeongin thinks you need a reminder, so he cups your chin in his hand, gently placing his fingers on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours. It’s such a quick, chaste, simple gesture; so usual, yet you feel quivers in your stomach, a gentle flutter that whispers things you don’t feel ready to admit to yourself, voices you’re afraid to listen to.

When he pulls away, he has a proud grin on his lips, and you feel a strong urge to hit him in the face. But with your lips. Gently. Because you want more this time; more of him, his soft pink lips, the warmth his body gives you, that silly but beautiful face.

Shit.

“Wipe that dumb smile off your face.” you say playfully, pulling away and returning to that damn broth.

“But you love this dumb face, admit it.”

‘Yes, I do’ is what you want to say, but it’s maybe because of what you felt a moment ago that you avoid letting those words leave your lips. “You’d better go back to your room before you start feeling worse.” You warn him.

“Come to think of it, I’m feeling dizzy.” Jeongin says, cursing under his breath. He follows your advice and heads back to his room, but not before throwing you one last look, saving that cute, rare moment of concentration —now focused on the broth— in his mind, with a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“Go to him,” you look up at Minho, who had already been watching you. A little smile forms on his lips, “I saw how you look at each other, and I’m never wrong,” he explains, “Now come on, go to him.” Minho gently but insistently pushes you out of the kitchen.

It was too indirect for you to be entirely convinced by what he said, but you hope it’s what you think. You don’t know when this started, why it happened, or if what you feel is real.

But every doubt seems to disappear from your mind when those words leave his glossy lips in the darkness of his room, his chest firmly pressed against your back, his warm breath on your neck, his arms wrapped around your body in a hold that whispers a fear of losing you.

And you don’t know if they are truly meant or if they came out in a moment of confusion and he actually meant something with a lesser meaning.

But what you know is that you feel exactly what was softly whispered into your ear —words said with a barely audible voice that you felt as a scream.

“I’m in love with you.”

#jeongin #i.n #jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin fluff #i.n fluff #i.n fanfic #jeongin fanfic #stray kids i.n #stray kids jeongin #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader fluff #friends to lovers

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