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headspace-hotel · 6 months

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you know how people say "cats domesticated themselves?" I find this statement irksome because as i've been studying plants and particularly weeds, a theory has slowly been forming in my head about domestication that makes a lot more sense than other theories.

Basically, I think everything domesticated itself. Or rather, domestication involves adaptation and active participation on both sides.

Evidence for this is found in studying weed and crop plants—truth be told, most weeds are or were also crops.

Amaranthus, the genus that gives us the most costly USA agricultural weeds? All edible and healthy, and several members of the genus are domesticated. They were staple crops for Mesoamerican empires.

Kudzu, the vine so aggressive in the USA it turns trees into looming kudzu monoliths? It's been bred and cultivated by humans since the Neolithic in its native range, in China it was one of the main sources of fiber for cloth for MILLENNIA to the point that the Zhou dynasty had a whole government office of kudzu affairs. Kudzu roots are edible and they can be as tall as a human and weighing over 200 pounds, you can make them into flour, make noodles out of the flour, you can process them down into a starch and use it just like potato or tapioca starch and make all sorts of sauces and confections and stuff out of it. In Japan it was used for clothes too, if you see pictures of clothes worn by a samurai that's probably kudzu! It has loads of unresearched phytochemicals that probably have medicinal use, it's good for making paper, a researcher even made a biodegradable alternative to plastic out of it

Yellow Nutsedge is a food crop, Purslane is a food crop, at least some species of morning-glories are food crops, crabgrass is a food crop, Nettles are food AND fiber, Milkweed is food and fiber too, Broadleaf Plantain is food and medicinal, Dandelion is food and medicinal AND great companion plant (they used to sell them in seed catalogues around the 1890's or so!) and have y'all ever seen queen-anne's-lace along the side of the road? THATS CARROTS. That's the wild ancestor of carrots! (ofc don't eat anything you aren't 1000% sure you can identify)

Simply put. A weed is a plant that has co-evolved with humans. And most of them are Like That because they co-evolved with us. And honestly I reckon that many plants were domesticated in the first place because they liked to grow in disturbed environments near human settlements and agricultural fields.

Now thinking about this in terms of animals...when our domestic species were first domesticated, there weren't fences, there wasn't "inside" or any controlled environment to bring animals into, and if you tried to overpower or coerce any of those species, they would 100% just kill you. It makes a lot more sense if the humans were just following herds around, and it gradually developed into protecting those herds from predators and tending to them more intentionally until we were kind of just part of the herds ourselves.

a lot of people are familiar with Biblical stories and metaphors about shepherds...it's clear those guys were basically living with sheep 24/7. They were assimilated to the sheep lifestyle.

this theory kinda suggests that we've lost the ability to domesticate new animal species to some extent because domestication has never really involved removing an animal from its natural environment. Feeding wild animals and trying to socialize them to humans isn't in line with the mutualistic nature of domestication because it's trying to change the animal to our whims, and usually decreases the fitness of the animal rather than increases it. And domestication probably takes a long long time to reach the level where an animal can be a "pet" instead of a more distant form of domestication where the association is not as close.

EXCEPT. Animals that adapt to our environment are prime candidates for domestication. This actually checks out because rats and mice are some of the most recently domesticated animals, iirc. Basically, pest animals are the most likely to be domesticated because they've already started evolving into a relationship with us. Just like weeds.

An interesting side note is how both animals and plants can de-domesticate and become "weeds/pests" again. Like "weedy rice" is becoming a problem in some crops where rice has evolved into a weed. And with animals, there's pigeons who were domesticated by us and now their habitat is cities because they co-evolved with us.

#random

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youryanderedaddy · 5 months

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Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

************************************************************************

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

#yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere dragon #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

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yuujispinkhair · 7 months

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We never go out of style

The thing with Sukuna and you is that it's fun. It's fun to kiss him at parties and to take him home and sleep with him. It's fun to just have this casual little on-and-off romance with him because, after all, you both know that you will always come back to each other.

Aka, I listened to Style by Taylor Swift and got the biggest butterflies when I pictured a modern College boy version of Sukuna to this song.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut, College AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of sex at semi-public/public places. Reader and Sukuna have an on-and-off fling, but both develop feelings over time. During one of their breaks, they both kiss other people and get jealous about it. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You aren't even sure how you got into that on-and-off fling with Sukuna. It was supposed to be just a little fun at a frat party. A few heated kisses in the kitchen while you were sitting on the counter, and he was standing between your legs, one large hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to kiss you in a way that made your head spin.

Just a little fun. Just a few sexy kisses with a sexy boy who had too many tattoos, too much confidence, and a reputation that should have sent you running.

You never planned to go home with him. But somehow you did, and somehow you ended up in his bed with him on top of you, in all his naked glory, tall and sexy with all those toned muscles and tattoos. And somehow, your hand was caressing his undercut and tangled in his slicked-back pink hair, ruffling it in a way that made him look almost cute. And somehow, the way he was grinding against you and fucking you into his mattress was the best sex you ever had.

Maybe that's why you walked over to him when you saw him on campus on Monday morning, leaning casually against a fence with sunglasses pushed up into his slicked-back hair, smirking that boyish smirk at you and lifting a large hand to wave you over with one long tattooed finger.

Maybe it was a combination of his skills in the bedroom and his confidence and boyish charm that made you agree to meet him again. Maybe it was the way he flashed you such an attractive smile when you said yes that made your knees feel strangely weak when you walked to your next class.

No matter what the reason was, ever since that day months ago, you have been in this little on-and-off fling with Sukuna.

Never quite the real thing, but also never not a thing.

Sometimes it's a few drunk kisses at a party, where you suck on his tongue and moan when he lifts you up to set you on the kitchen counter. Sometimes, it's loud, excited laughter and a fluttering pulse when he takes tequila shots where he licks the salt off your neck, letting his tongue-piercing glide over your skin. Sometimes, it's a wink and a flirty greeting while passing him in the hallway. Sometimes, it's a passionate hour spent in his bed, forgetting all the College stress when he dicks you down so good you almost cry.

Sometimes, you go weeks without talking to each other, both doing your own thing. But then you'll receive a text message at 3 a.m. asking you how you're doing.

"What's up, princess? Wanna meet up? I kind of miss your laugh."

You meet him every time. And it's always the same after a few weeks of not seeing each other:

A racing heart and a loud laugh when he stands in front of your door with a bottle of cheap wine and a single red rose. Needy, hungry kisses when you pull him into your apartment. Impatient hands tearing at each other's clothes as you stumble to your bedroom.

Your friends start to notice and ask you if you are dating Sukuna. You deny it, laughing and shaking your head. Who would be stupid enough to date him? You know this is something that only leads to a broken heart. No, Sukuna isn't someone for a relationship or anything serious.

But he is fun. So much fun. The bad boy with the charming grin. The arrogant asshole with the sweetest sweet talk you've ever heard. You know he is dangerous. A heartbreaker, a big flirt. Everybody wants him in their bed. He could have a pretty girl or boy on each finger.

You make sure not to get too invested. You keep it casual. A little fling when you feel like it. When you feel like getting fucked so good, you forget your own name. You make sure to push him away a little bit when things seem to become too intense.

You tell him you won't have time for him during the following weeks because you have to study. He doesn't have to know that, in reality, it's because you can't get his stupid charming smile out of your mind or because you catch yourself rolling over in your bed one night and sighing "Kuna" when you think you can still smell his cologne on your pillow where he slept a few nights ago.

This is dangerous territory. It's best to keep your distance for a while. You go out with your friends. You go to bars and clubs Sukuna doesn't frequent, meeting new people, flirting with someone new, maybe kissing one or two others just for the fun of it because you are young and free and you can do whatever you want. Or maybe it is to convince yourself you aren't falling for a pink-haired bad boy with the world's most charming smirk.

Your dormmate asks you if you and Sukuna broke up because lately, she hasn't seen him leave your room in the mornings with his hair ruffled and hickeys adorning his neck.

Another friend of yours approaches you with a sympathetic look and gently informs you that they saw Sukuna with some other girl last night, kissing her against the wall at a party.

You smile through all the comments, shaking your head and brushing it off.

"Oh, that's fine. We aren't dating or anything like that. He is just a little fling. It's not that serious!"

You try to ignore the uneasiness those comments cause. You smile and buy a new sexy outfit, and go to more bars to kiss more strangers, and Sukuna does the same.

Until you bump into him at another party. You turn the corner after grabbing a drink from the kitchen, and suddenly, you run into his tall, muscular figure, your face practically knocking against his chest. And he laughs and raises an eyebrow at you while his maroon gaze trails lazily over your body.

"It's been a while, princess. How was the studying?"

"It was good..."

"What were you studying again? Making out with strangers in bars?"

His eyes glitter challengingly, and his velvety low voice is carefully playful and teasing, but you can hear the edge in it. You glare up at him,

"Oh, you mean the thing you were studying too? I heard you were hanging out with some other girl."

For a long moment, no one says a word, and you just stare deeply into each other's eyes. But then Sukuna laughs and cocks his head,

"Well, it's true what you heard, but it was only two or three times. I'm not interested in her. Especially not now, when you seem to have time for me again."

You know he is leaning down on purpose, knowing full well how hot you find your height difference. You know he is brushing his lips over your ear with the intention of making you weak. You know he is calling you princess in that low sexy voice to make you come home with him tonight and forget all the dumb shit both of you did during the last few weeks.

You know now would be the right moment to tell him it's over for good. But you don't do it. You don't want to.

What you want is to put a hand on his toned chest and grab the front of his white shirt to pull him closer.

"I have time for you, Kuna. I have time tonight and maybe tomorrow, too."

You can feel his smirk when he kisses you, and his muscular, tattoed arms wrap around you and pull you against that tall, strong body that feels so fucking good against you.

"That's good, princess, since I couldn't stop thinking about you and me those last few weeks. It's more fun when you're with me."

The two of you are back at your typical shit again. Passionate kisses at various parties, loud moans, and entangled sweaty bodies in either Sukuna's bed or yours. Once a week, twice, maybe more often. Sometimes, he stays the whole night and makes your dormmate complain about him using up all the milk in the fridge.

The occasional late-night texts turn into nightly calls. Lying in your bed in the dark with a racing heart as you listen to Sukuna's low voice telling you random things he did today, smiling when he tells you to sleep well.

You go to parties together and make out on kitchen counters. You go to clubs and dance and kiss and make it look so dirty that strangers come up to you and tell you to get a room. You give Sukuna a good luck kiss in the morning before his exam and laugh when he walks around with your red lip print on his cheek.

People start commenting again on your relationship status, but you just laugh and roll your eyes.

Just like you roll your eyes when Sukuna pulls up at your place on a Wednesday at quarter to midnight, his car window rolled down, long fingers casually flicking off the ash of his half-smoked cigarette as he smirks at you,

"Wanna go on a ride, princess? Jump in. Let's drive to the beach."

"It's almost midnight, you idiot!"

"So what? I didn't say just for tonight, did I? We can stay for a few days, check into a hotel, have some fun tomorrow at the beach, go swimming, sip sweet cocktails at a shabby little bar, fuck in the warm sand, things like that. I know you want to."

You do.

You know you have an exam next week and really shouldn't miss any courses, but what can you do when Sukuna is here in front of you with his sexy smirk and that enticing sparkle in his maroon eyes, offering you the chance for a spontaneous adventure you will probably never forget?

You get into his car. You let him rest his large hand much too high on your thigh, and you let him kiss you breathless at every red light, giggling when he misses the traffic light changing, and the cars behind you honk. But Sukuna just grins against your lips and keeps kissing you while he lifts his hand to flip the guy behind him off in the rearview mirror.

You listen to him complaining about his teammates and his coach and make sure to nod understandingly and do the "Oh, no, he didn't!" and "Ah, that sucks!" at the right moments, earning you a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

You check into a cheap hotel down at the beach, feeling your heart beating like crazy because it feels like you are a criminal couple on the run in some noir movie. Or maybe two forbidden lovers meeting here in secret, far away from the cruel reality where everything is too serious, and people expect you to be a responsible adult.

Sukuna fucks you like he's starved for your body. Hard, deep thrusts and bruising kisses. Passionate sex that makes the old bed creak loudly while the sound mingles with your gasps and moans of Sukuna's name. Rough fucking that turns into surprisingly gentle lovemaking later that night, and Sukuna's soft moans against your neck and sweet little nothings whispered in your ear.

You return home two days later, feeling lightheaded and a bit sore from all the sex you had with Sukuna during those two days. On the hotel bed, in the shower, at the beach at night, on the drive home in his car.

His hand is on your thigh, slipping a bit under your short skirt, caressing your skin while he kisses you thoroughly in his parked car in front of your dorm. Maybe his hand tightens a bit on your thigh, not wanting to let go. Maybe you do the same, your fingers tangling in his soft pink hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away and saying goodbye.

When you finally exit his car, he grins at you with lips that are swollen from all the kissing and smeared with your lipstick. The red one that he likes so much on you.

"I'll call you when I'm home, princess. And let's meet again on Tuesday or something. I heard there's a party at Choso's dorm."

"Alright… or you could just stay the night."

The smile that lights up his face is enough to make your breath quicken. He is out of his car in a second, a large hand on the small of your back, steering you towards your front door. And you are grateful for the darkness of the night that helps you hide the stupid big grin on your face.

You don't know if you will ever be more than this on-and-off thing. You don't even know whether you would want it to be more. You don't know if you ever want to date Sukuna for real or if you ever want to call him your boyfriend.

But you know he is your boy, and you are his girl.

It doesn't matter how long your little fling will last this time, just a week or maybe a month. It doesn't matter if you'll go your separate ways for a little while again at some point. In the end, you will always come back to each other. Because one thing is for sure: Whatever the two of you have will never go out of style.

I HAD SO MANY BUTTERFLIES WHILE LISTENING TO THE SONG AND WRITING THIS AAAHHH!!! College boy Sukuna is my weakness. I'm so in love with him!!Help meee!!

So yeah, I decided that 1989 is a great College Sukuna album, and I will now go back to listening to it again and daydream about him.

I hope you enjoyed this little story and that it could give you butterflies too, maybe!! Please tell me how you liked it.

Comments and reblogs would be sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #sukuna x you

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star-suh · 12 days

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Wet Dreams

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: sub top himbo (attempt) mingyu, established relationship, somnophilia, pet names, restraints, unprotected sex, blowjob, musk kink, tummy bulge, breeding and facial, dumbification, implied second round.

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mingyu was a heavy sleeper, there could be a tornado right outside his house and he wouldn't open an eye. he is also one of those big muscular dumb guys something that make him cute to some people but for others (yn) it made him even hotter. after some time of knowing each other and watching how their connection grew stronger by the days they decided to be a couple.

one night yn confesses something to mingyu, “you see, i wish we could go for a second round but you always fall asleep” he pouts. “aww baby i'm sorry” the tall apologizes “it's just that being with you makes me feel so good that i want to give you all the pleasure”, he kisses his forehead and taps his chin as if he was thinking about something.

“next time even if i fall asleep you can keep doing it with me, if you manage to keep it hard”...

one morning yn woke up for no reason and he hates that, it was 6:30 am, and when yn wakes up he hardly can go back to sleep. looking for ways to entertain himself at such early hours something under the sheets caught his eyes. mingyu's big dick standing in all his glory forming a tent with the white sheet “wood morning to me” murmured yn.

he quickly went to his closet and from a drawer he takes out a pair of red ropes that he uses to tie every limb from mingyu to each corner of the bed. the big dumb guy barely moves, it's like he doesn't feel the burning sensation of the ropes around his limbs. yn positioned himself in between his legs and started to smell the other’s dick and balls “such a manly musk”. his tongue went up and down on each side of that fat meat, making sure to leave it as wet as possible. slowly he tried to deepthroat him, relaxing his throat so he can swallow more and more each time. he finally reach the base of the shaft but quickly pulls out feeling his gag reflexes kicking in “this is so good” he slaps the saliva-smeared cock in his face leaving some of it on his face. “naughty boy who knows what you're dreaming about that is making you this hard, damn!” the bottom exclaimed, feeling it throbbing in his hand.

“hngh” mingyu moaned, yn stopped thinking he woke up but he didn't. he supposed it was just a reflex of how good he was feeling right now.

he aligned the already lubed tip right under his hole and slowly sat down on it, feeling how that thick dick stretched his walls. he was just halfway through and yn was already a moaning mess, that's how good mingyu's dick felt. when he bottomed out he waited some minutes to start moving. up and down with gentle hip movements so mingyu doesn't wake up, he was also being careful to not squeeze that hard.

“shit mingyu, i love your dick so much” unconsciously yn sped up his movements, just chasing his pleasure, “my fucking god, i want more of you… fucking ruin me” drool dripped down his chin, his hooded eyes trying to focus on something but failing at doing it. he bounces more and more fast, not caring anymore if mingyu wakes up he just wants that cum deep inside his bulging tummy “fill me up baby”.

mingyu felt some heavy weight on his crotch area so he opened his eyes, he blinked a few times to focus and see what was happening, it was yn's back and he kept staring at it while moaning and grunting, “yn?” he asks and the other stopped his movements, “yes?” he replies with some shyness laced in his voice. “what are you doing?” the top asks. yn bit his lip *looks like he woke up but his brain didn't* he thought and resumed his riding. after what feels like a long time mingyu realized that yn was fucking himself on his dick, he watched how that hungry hole swallowed all his inches, the sight made him hornier and yn knew that because he felt the cock growing and throbbing inside him. mingyu tried to meet yn's thrusts with his, the wet skin slapping sound echoing in all the room. yn laid back on top of mingyu moving his hips to massage that thick meat inside him “i fucking love you gyuuu~” yn was already gone, too cockdrunked to think straight. yn lift himself up with his arms so he can sit harder on the cock and also see better everytime mingyu's dick makes the bulge on his lower tummy when he goes deep. yn turns so he's now facing his boyfriend, riding even harder chasing that pleasant feeling. cumming hands free seconds later, squirting the cum all over his face.

yn freed mingyu from the restraints on his hands so he can take the lead in the fucking, “fucking fill me up” moaned the bottom loudly, desperation in his voice. “yes baby it's coming” mingyu reassures him by groping hardly his ass leaving his handprints in both cheeks. mincoc's cock is throbbing inside the other, spurting all the cum stored in his balls deep inside his boyfriend who clenches his hole as hard as he can to milk every single drop out of mingyu.

after they both rode his high mingyu freed himself from his legs restraints while yn just sits in the bed with his legs open fingering his hole “i think i need something more bigger and thicker than my fingers to keep all this cum inside me” his face tinted in red, hooded eyes, his hair sticked on his forehead for the sweat and drool coming out of his mouth.. “you looked so fucked up” mingyu comments while accomodating his tip on yn's entrance.

#kim mingyu x male reader smut #kim mingyu x male reader #mingyu x male reader smut #mingyu x male reader #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #seventeen x male reader

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slttygeto · 2 months

Text

pairing: fem! reader, husband! suguru

c.w: bl0wjobs, dirty talk, cursing.

w.c: 1,3k

When Suguru wants to receive head, he doesn’t say it. Words suddenly seem far too vulgar for a man who spews out filth when he’s fucking his cock deep into you. He wants to catch you off guard with his words, but asking you to suck him off sounds disrespectful—he can spit in your mouth, eat your ass but never push his cock down your throat unless you asked him to. You are too sweet for him, all comfortable in your cotton shorts and worn out T-shirt you had begged him not to get rid of when he pulled it out his closet. You’re so attached to the piece of clothing, he joked that he had competition in the relationship.

He eyes you carefully as you take a seat next to him on the couch, throw your head on his lap and bury your face in his stomach. You are affectionate, that he knows. However, it took everything in Suguru not to buck up his hips when he feels your cheek press against his soft cock. He can feel himself hardening, you’re clearly exhausted and in need of comforting, so he reaches out for the pillow next to him and tries to place it on his crotch.

“What are you doing?” you mumble against his skin, somehow having lifted up his shirt and were now pressing your lips against his stomach.

“Getting you a pillow to rest your head on.” He replies, fingers stroking your hair. He feels you shake your head, lips peppering kisses along his scarred stomach.

“I don’t need it here,” he stares at you confused, but it doesn’t last for long. He feels you move from the couch and down to the floor where you sit obediently on your knees between his large thighs. You braced yourself on his knees with a look of fascination on your face, wondering what you did in a past life that was so heroic that you were rewarded with such a handsome man, sculpted by God himself.

You reach for the pillow intended for your head and position it below your knees, shuffling a bit to get yourself comfortable. Your fingers reach for his shorts and you look up at Suguru, waiting for him to give you a bit of a helping hand and let you undress him.

“This is all very random,” he says but lifts up his hips nonetheless. How could he complain when he’s been daydreaming of fucking your face all morning? He’s always appreciated your little expressions. You had a face full of emotion—when you were sad, he knew it by the little tremble to your lips. When you were annoyed, your eyebrows would stay furrowed for so long he worried you’d get a headache. Catching anxiety on your face was easy—all color would drain from it. And when you were so full of love for him, so adoring, your eyes spoke volumes to him. Pupils blown wide, smile reaching your cheeks and eye contact that lasted for an eternity—he loved to trace his thumb along your skin, feel the acne scars all the way down to your lips that suck in his thumb like a treat. He loved your face so much, he wanted to stuff it with his cock.

He would let you take the lead, watch what you do with it—he imagines that you would start by licking the side, focus on that one prominent vein that makes him hiss, then you’d lick your way up to the tip before wrapping those delicious lips around it—kind of like how you were doing right now.

You are shameless with showing your appreciation for his massive cock. Your hands fondle with his balls like a stress toy, your mouth busy trying to fit all of him inside—but you can’t. You’ve tried it before and almost choked to death. You take a deep breath as you pull away from his dick, staring at it in its full glory, standing tall. Saliva coated it from all edges, but your favorite was the tip—leaking pre-cum which you were ready to swallow gladly. It tasted bitter, a testament to the coffee and cigarette he consumed regularly, but the rest of Suguru was sweet—all warm and soft touches on your face, roughened up when your voice gets higher and your whines beg him to use your body for his own pleasure.

“Fuck, you are sweet f’me.” He slurs, eyes rolling back and a sigh leaving his lips your hand wraps around the base. You stroke him eagerly, watching with intent eyes as his head rolls back and rests on the couch. Your clit tingles when you see the muscle of his arms flex, his hand twitching and you pray he would grip the back of your head with it. You moan around the tip when he does, and it sends Suguru spiraling.

“Holy shit,” his eyes shoot open when you start to bob your head, using both hands to stroke his cock up and down all whilst twisting. You combine the two actions, creating what Suguru believes is a recipe for trouble because he finds his one foot raising to the tips, trying to control the shakes that was going through his thighs. But to no avail.

You are unstoppable when you hear Suguru reach that part of his journey to his orgasm—when all self-control exits his body and his noises start sounding more of a recording of a high quality, fan favorite porn video. He is hissing, lips smacking as he tries to keep his noises in—he covers his face with his hand but soon realizes that he needs to grab onto something so now his face is uncovered and it’s a sight to see—flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead and lips parted as they bless your ears.

“Shit, oh shit, oh baby,” he sits up fully, hands holding your head as you continue your movements. You can’t see him now but you know that you can’t stop. You feel him fucking up into your mouth, eyes tearing up everytime the tip of his fat cock hits the back of your throat but it doesn’t matter—not when you were making Suguru cum.

“Fuck yeah keep going, just like that mm—“ his words are so encouraging, it makes you squeeze your thighs. You didn’t want to touch yourself because that would mean one less hand to stroke his cock. You weren’t willing to make that sacrifice when you knew your pussy was going to receive princess treatment after making your husband cum. “Oh fuck yes, yeah yeah—“

He cums with a loud string of profanities, emptying himself down your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut as his dick shoots thick ropes of cum, your hands resting on his knees as you slowly pull your mouth off of him. The living room is filled with breathing sounds, Suguru leans back to catch his breath and locks eyes with you right as you wipe your mouth with a proud, cock-drunk grin. There’s saliva coating your chin which you didn’t wipe off, so Suguru reaches a hand down and grabs your jaw.

“You are—fuck,” he laughs in disbelief, unable to wrap his head around the fact that you just gave him such a mind-blowing orgasm so randomly.

“Amazing?” you ask cheekily, letting him pull you on his lap as you straddle him. You purposely sit your ass on his limp dick, grinning when he hisses and his hands find your hips to grip them and keep you off of his cock. “Who says I’m done?” You tilt your head to the side and your husband stares at you with wide eyes when he feels you start grinding against his sensitive dick.

“How about another one, hm?”

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

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haykawas · 8 months

Text

✩•̩̩͙*˚ 9:23AM – GETO SUGURU.

word count : 1K. tags : fem!reader, domestic fluff, tattooed/pierced suguru, husband!suguru, a bit of nsfw content (not quite but mentions of it).

You sigh in contentment as the sweet scent of sugar caresses your nostrils, making your stomach growl in hunger. The only thing you can hear in the brightly lit kitchen is the sound of your spatula rattling against the frying pan, the oil fizzling as you finish cooking breakfast. You place the treats on a plate and start to arrange your masterpiece when your breath suddenly catches in your throat. Tattooed arms are tightly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place, and the hint of a smile tugs at your lips as he starts to sway both of your bodies.

You know who’s behind you, the reason your body suddenly feels so warm and light with love. You could recognize him blind, the gentle caress of his fingers on your bare skin enough to spark a raging fire inside of you.

His front fits perfectly against your back, warm and firm, and you breathe him in. You’ve always loved the way he smelled, of rose and musk.

“Good morning, wife. What are you making? I’m starving.” Suguru’s husky voice whispers in your ear, the hot air making your skin tingle as his large hands lovingly trace patterns on the skin of your hips.

Suguru has his face pressed against the back of your neck, a knowing smirk on his lips, before he starts leaving a trail of feathery soft kisses on your shoulder. The pecks are small, his mouth only ghosting over your skin, but that’s all it takes to make you shiver.

The man lets out a deep laugh when he notices how flustered you are from his touch, his eyes crinkling with amusement. He squeezes you against him even tighter.

“Your favorite! You definitely don’t deserve me.” You casually grin at him, and he thinks you’re absolutely right, because you’re a sight to behold. He’s thinking about you, and you about him, trying to ignore how hot he feels against you, how attractive his raspy voice is in the morning, and how pretty he is when he just got out of bed, your love bites marring his chest.

“I sure don’t.” He chuckles, kissing your cheeks before he starts to ramble about his plans for the day with Satoru.

And you’re definitely listening.

You’re definitely not thinking about him, about the way you can definitely feel him pressed up against your backside, hard and ready.

You’re definitely not thinking about how good he made you feel last night, whispering words of love and desire in your ear as he thrusted inside you, moaning your name like a mantra. You try not to. You definitely do, but the marks that ornate his skin aren’t helping you focus.

You squeal as Suguru suddenly turns you around, having noticed how quiet you’ve gotten. He backs you up against the counter, standing tall above you, his muscular arms encasing your frame and making it impossible for you to escape his embrace.

A single peek at your warm cheeks tells him everything he needs to know, and he almost can’t stop himself from cooing at you. He always found it so adorable how you shied away from his gaze even long after you two got married, how your cheeks never stopped reddening when he was looking at you way too intently for way too long.

His eyes are soft as he tucks away a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand gently moving lower so it can rest on your cheek.

You crane your neck so you can get a proper look at him in all his glory. He has this little smirk he always sports when he’s teasing you - one of his favorite pastimes, and his eyes sparkle with mischief, his lips full and swollen from last night. You must’ve been staring a little too hard, because his smile suddenly becomes a grin.

“I know I have pretty lips, love. Now, what I’d like to know is what you’re gonna do about it?” He laughs, his voice low and filled with implications, the grip he has on you tightening as he speaks.

Suguru sees your gaze hesitantly go from his full lips to his clouded eyes, and he almost rolls his eyes, sharply lifting your head so it’s angled with his own, before hungrily crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. It takes you a moment before you respond, your teeth pulling and sucking his bottom lip, and you smile into the kiss as you hear him moan, because you know he likes it when you bite him. You part, your chest rising and falling against his, his pierced nipples grazing against your front.

Your eyes lock, and Suguru sports a smug look, the kind you just want to smack off his face. But it’s hard to deny him when he’s like this because of you, hair all messed up from the improvised make-out session, his lips full and swollen and his skin slightly glistening under the summer heat. Your lips part to say something, the three little words hanging at the edge of your tongue, but he doesn’t let you. He swallows your thoughts with his lips, harshly pulling at your lower lip to have you grant him access, and when you do he doesn’t waste time, deepening the kiss and sucking on your tongue. You harshly pull on his ponytail, a small noise escaping your throat when you feel the small metal bead embedded in his tongue in your mouth. You tug and grab at him, and his hairband finally snaps, causing his long black hair to cascade down his naked back. You immediately grab a handful of it for balance when he effortlessly lifts you up by the waist to set you down on the kitchen counter, the food now discarded to the side.

You tightly wrap your legs around his waist, his slender hands squeezing your thighs as he breaks the kiss, his warm lips now nipping at the skin of your neck, sucking and biting to leave bruises, while his hands are busy unfastening your pajama pants.

“I told you I was hungry, love” He mutters but you don’t hear him, and you don’t need to, because he doesn’t waste any more time before his lips hastily go and find yours again.

AN : had this timestamp lying around so have this little gift !! (i should def start writing for other characters . satoru or choso next i think . last post before at least a week bc exams)

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bbydoll18xx · 14 days

Text

I'll Be Your Temporary Fix (Pt 4)

Paige Bueckers x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4 based on this request:

Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).

Heyyy y'all I've lowkey been MIA (ya girl has been depressed lol) but here is part 4

Also Paige is so hot i wanna light myself on fire

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: hella fluff

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You had held up your end of the bargain, quite swimmingly. Paige had effectively turned you into a simpering fool, and she loved it.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t.

Long gone were the days of running from your feelings. Paige had you tumbling head over heels, and you wanted to confess to the whole world. It was as if she had tattooed her name on your heart.

With fake dating being no more, there was still an air of hesitation around what the two of you actually were. You were trying to avoid obsessing over the label, but it ate at you. There were so many unknowns, and you were never one to just come out with what you were actually feeling.

Since becoming Paige’s friend, you had always relied on her to take the reigns, while you took an emotional backseat. It was just the way the dynamic was between you two.

But now Paige had been scarily quiet on what she wanted from you.

The two of you had spent an absurd amount of time kissing since you had run back into her arms with ample apologies. Soft kisses in the morning, bathing in the glow of the sunshine of a new day. Rushed kisses in between classes in passings. Passionate, bruising kisses in the heat of the moment after Paige basks in the glory of winning yet another game.

You were drunk on Paige’s mouth, but the inebriation was not enough to distract from the incessant questions your mind whispered at each waking moment.

So before your anxieties could overtake you once more, you had decided that you would ask Paige out on a proper date.

And so you did.

Taking a deep breath, you walk inside Paige’s apartment. It was now a familiar environment, and the homey atmosphere calms your beating heart. ‘It’s just Paige,’ your brain soothes your sympathetic nervous system, as it tries to go into overdrive. Fighting against your instincts to flee, you stroll into Paige’s bedroom with a soft smile on your face.

The tall girl had fallen asleep, and she was curled up in purple bed sheets looking as angelic as ever. Her blonde hair fanned across the pillows, and her plush bottom lip was jutting out in a precious pout that reminded you of a childs. You wanted to remember this forever.

You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, placing a small hand on Paige’s cheek, feeling the warm, soft skin. Your touch rouses her from her slumbers, and Paige gives you a sleepy grin as she realizes it’s you.

“Hi, baby,” she mumbles, voice husky with sleep.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you tease softly. “Did ya get bored waiting for me?”

Paige just chuckles, and your belly flips at the familiar sound.

“Doyoumaybewannagoonadatewithme…? you spill out, practically babbling in a desperate effort to just get it all out before you lose your courage.

Your rapid wording flies over Paige’s still drowsy head, and she responds with a bewildered, “Huh?”

You swallow your pride once more, and with a deep breath you repeat yourself, much slower this time. “Do you want to go on a date? With me?”

Paige’s blue eyes widen, and her tongue darts out of her mouth to run across that fucking bottom lip again, and she nods. A grin is spreading across her face, and the swarm of butterflies that were assaulting your stomach a few seconds ago have flown away, leaving a wave of calm to wash over you.

Trying to figure out where to take Paige was a whole other issue that had crept up on you. You were not used to having much control when it came to planning dates, and it had to be fucking perfect. You wanted to avoid the typical dinner and a movie routine; that was boring. Other activities would be difficult with Paige’s popularity, and you needed to evade the hoards of her adoring fans.

You finally decide to take her go-karting. It was perfect. It appealed to her competitive edge, and it was super fun. You packed a bunch of her favorite snacks, and you were all set.

Wiping your sweaty palms on your pants, you knock on Paige’s door to pick her up. The nerves threaten to make you turn on your heels and flee once more, but you resist. Paige opens the door with a cheesy smile that causes a visceral reaction from you. She would never not make you feel a million things all at once. She looked you up and down, a flirty expression on that beautiful fucking face of hers.

“Lookin’ good, babe,” she murmurs, and your face heats up at the compliment.

“You look gorgeous, P,” you declare in response, thus eliciting a similar flush that has you smirking in pride. Pulling a blush out of Paige Bueckers was always an accomplishment.

You take her hand in yours and lead her to your car, and you allow her to connect to the aux. She looks at you in surprise. “You never let me listen to my music in your car.”

“It’s your lucky day,” you tease with a small laugh. “I can go without Taylor Swift for a bit; this day is about you.” Paige beams, and your decision makes it all worth it.

You would kill someone just to keep that pretty smile on her face.

You drive to the go-kart track with your right hand intertwined with Paige’s, and it was your turn to rub small circles on the back of hers. The domesticity of everything was bringing you much hope that this would all turn into more. Now that you had a taste of what it was like to belong to Paige, you knew it would be nearly impossible to give it up without a brutal fight.

As you arrive, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by Paige’s loud gasp as she realizes what the two of you would be doing this afternoon.

“Go-karting? Babe. I’m gonna kick your ass!”

Her taunting just makes you laugh, and you shake your head fondly as she gets out of the car and bounds toward the door, dragging you along in faux impatience.

The building is void of the usual busy crowd, and Paige notices the lack of people quickly. Seeing the confusion wash over her face, you explain that you pulled a few strings using your media manager status in order to have a little privacy. Paige says nothing. Instead, she pulls you in by the waist to press her lips against yours in an appreciative kiss, and you know this was the right call. You chase her lips and subconsciously go up on your tiptoes in an effort to get even closer.

The moment is interrupted as the manager of the facility walks over to where the two of you were standing, and introduces herself. She explains that you would have the place to yourselves for the next four hours, and she goes over how to work the go-karts.

By the time the manager leaves, giving you and Paige the privacy you had wanted since arriving, Paige is bouncing on her heels in pure, child-like excitement that makes you equally as giddy.

She bounds over to a brightly-colored purple go-kart, claiming loudly that it belonged to her, as you seat yourself in a green one. You watch her as she pulls the harness across her chest and tightens it, her tongue peeking out once more in concentration.

She was so endearing, and the feelings you were having had grown tenfold since she had originally asked you to pretend to date her just a few weeks prior. You weren’t sure if you would survive actually dating her. Just the thought made your heart feel as if it could explode at any moment.

Your daydream is cut short by Paige who is now attempting to trash-talk you. However, her insults were hardly so, as she was having a similar issue with handling her affections for you, as well.

“Mkay, I’ll believe it when I see it,” is all you get out before Paige is speeding away with a loud squeal and a cloud of gasoline. You barely mutter out a “fuck” before slamming your foot on the gas in a feeble attempt to catch up.

No such luck.

Paige actually was incredible at go-karting, and her smugness had no limit.

She walked out several hours later, one hand around yours once more and the other raised in the air, pumping her fist victoriously for the millionth time.

If it was literally anyone else, you would have felt mildly annoyed at her antics, but your fondness overtook any other possible emotions in your little love-drunk brain.

As you climb back inside your car to head back to Paige’s, you allow yourself to study the features of the blonde, and you’re ecstatic to see the similar looks of happiness on her face. You had been counting on this day being a success.

“I had a really fun time today. Thank you for doin’ all this for me,” Paige whispers sincerely with a flush of pink overtaking her pale skin.

“I’d do anything for you, P,” you respond, struggling to maintain eye contact with your sudden candor. “I just don’t know where your head has been, but I’d like to be more than friends. And more than just friends who pretend to date to help their other friend,” you add with a quiet laugh.

The sheer absurdity of the situation was finally settling in. And you were hoping to be able to reap some long-term benefits of having to pretend to date Paige.

Paige places a hand on your face, cupping your cheek delicately and forcing you to gaze deep into those blue eyes. “Course I wanna be more,” she murmurs, her voice raspy from the combination of the emotions and the amount of yelling she had done earlier. “You’ve been my girl since that day in the gym when you agreed to fake date me. Now it’s just official.”

“Good,” you reply, a smug smirk engulfing your expression, and before you can say anything else, Paige is pulling you into another searing kiss.

“What are we gonna tell the team?” you ask between kisses, puffs of air leaving your swollen mouth every few seconds.

Paige shrugs. “They’ve been wanting me to try and get together with you for years. Now that I’m thinkin’ ‘bout it, I feel like Azzi made up the whole thing just so I would kiss you…” she trails off, a look of realization flitting across her face.

A giggle escapes from your throat at the determination of Azzi Fudd to get the two of you together. And boy, were you grateful for the little scheme.

thanks so much for reading. i love you all :)

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #paige #paige x reader #friends to lovers #paige bueckers x you #fluff

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thefangirlfever · 6 months

Text

"Good morning" (a Miguel O'hara NSFW story, 18+)

(yes, I like this GIF of him)

Summary: Since you and Miguel had been married, he’s been rocking a dad bod, not that it bothers you…

Tags: NSFW, fingering, PIV penetration, squirting, that sweet marital life, married couple, dad bod, may be out of character, very self-indulgent smut, doggy style, size kink, this one is for all my girlies with a flat chest (I see y’all), oral sex (F receiving), cringe dialogues, breast and nipple play, no mention of condom use but trust me they do use one, unshaved female protagonist (again, let’s normalize body hair on women), aftercare, not proofread

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When you met Miguel, he used to be quite the defintion of a wet dream. Athletic, tall, a chiseled physique… he was quite the peak definition of an athlete and anybody would agree on that. But as time passed, his body started to change. He started to develop what one would call a “dad-bod”. His hips widened, and so did his chest. His toned thighs and arms remained, although they seemed to have gotten thicker, just like his lower back. The sharp angles of his body softened and you could easily see how plush he had gotten, especially on his belly. Miguel had never had a ‘tummy’ in all his life and it was definitely something new for him. Anyone would have thought that these changes would have bothered him, that he would cry the loss of his former physique… but it was quite the opposite. Yes, his body had changed but that was life and he took it rather philosophically. He was also carrying himself with such confidence that it was impossible to not find him as attractive, if not even more, as when he was younger.

And you were no exception to that. Being his wife, you had the chance to admire him in all his glory, meaning when he woke up. You’ve never been a morning person, but damn, was it worth the sight. This morning was no exception. Miguel was already awake as you were just slowly emerging from your sleep. He was standing in front of the dresser, only covered by a towel when he noticed you waking up. Even with your blurred vision and your groggy condition, you were watching the object of your affection as if this was your last minutes on Earth.

“No one ever told you that it’s rude to stare?”, he asked you playfully while getting a new shirt from the wardrobe.

You didn’t even proceed to reply and instead you just laid back against your pillow, a content smile on your face as you watched him. Small droplets of water were dribbling from the tip of his hair down his shoulders and his tummy was slightly bulging from the top of of the towel, highlighting the shape hidden underneath. His hairy chest was on full display as well as his love handles to you not-so-subtle gaze.

“Are you going to keep watching me like that?”, he asked with a little grin.

As if he hadn’t done it on purpose, like every single time… After all these years married to you, he knew what effect he had on you, whether it was his eyes, his smile or other things… Just the idea of him crushing you under his weight, of his sheer body size engulfing you was already a turn-on for you.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention?”, you replied with the same playful tone while crossing your arms. You were determined to enjoy the show, whatever he was about to show you.

Miguel’s smile widened at your comment and he brings his hands to the hem of the towel, not removing it yet. He let the moment last a little, not giving you what you wanting yet. You were past the time in your relationship when you had to act all coy and shy around him and so your eyes roamed his body without any restraint. Your gaze stopped under the hem of the towel, noticing that what was a slight bulge was now turning into a raging hard-on. You’ve never understood the meaning of the expression ‘morning wood’ until you’ve met him. And now the sense was quite jumping to your eyes.

You watched him making his way toward the edge of the bed, his playful smirk still on his lips.

“Do you plan on getting up at some point?”

“I have a better view from where I stand.”, you replied in the same tone.

“Sure.” Miguel just chuckled at your words and finally stopped in front of the bed. For a moment, none of you dared to move as the tension filled the space between the two of you.

“You know, I don’t think it’s fair… why should I be the only one exposed?”, he asked with his most sultry voice before removing the bed sheet covering your legs. You squirmed as the cold air of the room hit your legs and soon Miguel’s fingers were brushing gently against your bare legs. The hair on your legs started to stand from this gentle touch so familiar. It was so familiar that you could already guess where this was going and the rest of your body was already reacting to it.

Miguel watched you from the foot of the bed. You were wearing one of his shirts and boxers. The oversize piece of clothe made him almost lose his composure as he could picture himself wrapping himself around you the same way the drape of the fabric was.

“I must say the view is still very nice from where I’m standing there too…”, he whispered before kissing one of your ankles. His lips kept kissing your leg, moving up higher at each little peck. He slowly followed the curve of your calf, dragged his tongue along your tibia and nuzzled it behind your knee, almost tasting the soft skin under his mouth. This send a few tickles up your whole lower body and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sensation, and at the same time feeling slightly aroused. Your eyes couldn’t stop watching his mouth exploring your body. His beard pricked against your skin, tickling you even more, especially when he finally reached the plump flesh of your thighs.

He was now moving down the bed, between your legs like a snake. His massive body still moved quite graciously as you watched his back muscles ripple under his skin and flex from time to time. His grip on your thighs was gentle but you found yourself unable to move. Miguel kept kissing your inner thighs until you finally lifted up the hem of your shirt, giving him a better access to your skin.

“May I?”, he asked even though he already knew the answer. A breathy ‘yes’ from you was all he could hear before he tugged on the waistband of your underwear.

He had already discarded his towel somewhere on the floor and the sight of his naked body had made you even wetter. Coupled with the teasing and the sight of his own arousal, it was no surprise that the first thing he saw was a white, almost creamy substance staining the inside of your underwear. Miguel’s grin widened at this sight and he began to tease you. His index slid down your slit and when he pulled it away from your lips a string of cyprine was still attached to it. He greedily licked his finger clean, tasting your juice. The sound he made let you know that so far, he enjoyed it. As if you didn’t know it. At this point, you were pretty sure that if he could just keep his head buried in your pussy all day long and only sustaining himself with it, he would do it.

He gently pinched your labia, using his index and his thumb to rub them together. Your wetness was spreading even more on your thighs, his fingers and you found yourself leaking on the sheets. You felt incredibly hot, in all the senses of the term, as he kept toying with you. Soon after that, his fingers spread your lips apart and he delved his tongue between them. He first proceeded to explore your insides but soon he found himself lapping at your juice, practically tongue-fucking you. In the meantime, his nose was rubbing against your clitoris. The small bud was growing painfully erect, red and swollen and you cold almost feel it throbbing.

Your hands grabbed some strands of Miguel’s hair and moved his hair according to your wants and needs. He was a moaning mess, half-kissing your pussy, half-eating it. The sounds he was making clearly showed his appreciation for you. He was like a fly trapped in a web, except the web was your thighs squeezing his head, not allowing him to leave yet. You were also quite vocal about the sensations you were experiencing and you felt clearly awake. When his lips circled your clit and sucked on it, almost as if it was a pacifier you completely lost it. Miguel’s chin was covered with your juice but he couldn’t care less. You were crying his name out loud and that was the best ego boost for him. With one last movement of his tongue on your throbbing sex, he tilted his head up, looking at you as you were clearly still riding the wave of your orgasm. Your flushed cheeks, your half-closed eyes, your uneven breathing… everything was calling him, telling him to keep going.

“I think we should remove this.”, he teased you while his hands played with the hem of your shirt. Your only response was to stretch your arms so he could pull the top off from your chest, which he did with much enthusiasm. And there you were, completely exposed, every mole, hair, stretch mark, exposed to him, unable to hide yourself, and he was living for these moments. His strong hands were moving up from your hips to your ribs. When he felt them under your skin, he felt his heart skip a beat. You were there, so real and he had the chance to feel every part of you, every single day of his life.

His eyes trailed up toward your chest. He knew that one of his hand could easily cover your whole breast, wrap itself around it but he had some other plans. Your chest may have been small, one would even say flat, he couldn’t stop himself to admire it. The feeling of your squishy, perky breasts on display was to die for in his eyes. Every time he was holding them in his hands, he just felt like he was directly holding your heart. And he couldn’t stop touching them. You may have just been dressing yourself in the morning before going to work and he appeared out of nowhere and slips his hand in the cups of your bra, giving them one loving squeeze before you started your day, all while kissing your neck. You could be cooking in the kitchen and suddenly his hands were under your shirt, playing with them, all while talking to you as if it was nothing. He would usually keep this going on until you were a mess, begging him to make you finish. And of course, he couldn’t help himself but indulge into some fondling while the two of you were sitting on your couch, watching TV. Sometimes, he would even lay his head on your lap and held one of your breasts in his mouth until once again, you were just a moaning mess. It was simple, since you married him, you were not feeling insecure about the modest size of your chest.

Your nipples were particularly poking out after this teasing and Miguel found himself unable to resist their appearance. His lips were now sucking on the small nubs, covering them in spit and sometimes flicking them with his tongue. Once again, you felt yourself growing wetter, hotter and your arousal was leaking down your thighs. You felt the sheets under you getting wet. The only thing that could make it worse -or better- would be…

One of his fingers inserted itself between your folds, not moving yet. He was waiting for you to make the first move, and so did you, all horny and needy that you were. When he sensed your despair, Miguel finally pumped his finger into, adding the pressure of an other digit. And you quickly came once again, all over his knuckles.

That’s when he released your nipple and looked at you with the most adoring eyes.

“I just know you’re going to take my cock so well…”

And indeed you took it very well, despite its size and girth. You were now on all-four on your shared bed with your husband just behind you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your aching pussy. His hands were holding your hips in place as he stood steadily on his knees. He would give your ass a few squeezes from time to time, especially when you would find yourself unable to answer to one of his questions. It was quite hard to focus, even on his dirty talk, as you felt your own legs shaking with movement of his member along your folds. When he finally penetrated you, you couldn’t hold back a breathy moan.

“You’re so wet, damn…”

Miguel was moving back and forth, pushing deeper into your cunt with each thrust. The room was filled with the noise of Miguel’s grunt as he kept moving behind and inside you, your own moans and the bed squeaking under your combined weights. As he kept moving faster, you could hear something else. It was nothing else than the sound of your skin slapping against one another. Since Miguel had gained some weight, the back shots were sounding quite louder, and heavier and in this moment you wished you could have hold his ass in your hands. If Miguel had a thing for your breasts, you clearly had a soft spot for his butt and it was one of your habits to give it a few squeezes or playful slaps, either during your most intimate moments and even outside of the bedroom. The image of his cheeks clapping made you moan louder. Taking this as a sign of your arousal, one of his hands circled your waist and soon rested on your mound.

On his side, Miguel was feeling it more and more difficult to control himself. He wanted to cum so bad, but he had to tease you one more time first. He knew there was something he wanted to get from you and he would get it, as always. With your back arched in front of him and your rear pushed against his crotch, you looked like the most erotic, the most sensual thing he could ever witness. It was too good to be true. His fingers were flicking your clitoris once again and with his other hand he was applying a firm pressure on your lower belly, now holding with his arms.

You were overflowing with desire and...something else. Something that could spill out of you at any moment.

“Miguel...if you keep doing that I will…”, you whined helplessly but there was no use reasoning him.

“Please baby, please. Do it. Come for me. I want you to soak my cock with your juice.”

His dirty words and the growing pressure on your lower abdomen made you lose it and you came once again, feeling more sensitive than ever. Only this time, you ended spraying your cum in a hot, almost streaming, pouring jet. You were squirting all over his hands, the sheets and his cock.

“That’s it… Good girl…”

Miguel was licking his lips in anticipation, already thinking about the moment he would drink it up from you and he finally came.

Your bodies were covered in sweat and your own arousal as he finally let you go. You limp down the bed, still shaking from the explosion of your desire. Miguel grabbed his towel that he had discarded earlier and gently began to clean you up. The smell of sex was still filling the room but there was nothing sexual in his actions anymore. He was just helping you, caring for you and your comfort. He then laid by your side, holding you between his arms. You could feel the plumpness of his body, its softness, all while hugging him. With one kiss on your forehead, he gently whispered:

“I love you…”

================================

Notes: I’m finally free from my exams and as a reward I wrote this. Since it’s cuffing season, I’m giving you ‘big boy Miguel’. I’ve recently been obsessed with the concept of Miguel rocking a dad bod and I decided to write something about it.

I hope you enjoy the product of my febrile imagination. Here's your cookie for reading this🍪

Edit: Thanks for the 300 likes

Seeing your reactions, I think I will write a part 2 of "Dad Bod Miguel does naughty things to you"™

#spiderman 2099 #spiderverse #miguel o'hara #fanfic #astv miguel #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #dadbod!miguel #dad bod miguel

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smuttysabina · 11 months

Text

A Month with Aespa (Ch 2): An Intriguing Offer

(Male Reader x Karina, 2700 words) Tags: Nudity, Happy Idols, Tittyfucking, Sex, Maids, Awkward Dinner Conversations

Read Chapter 1 Here!

Grandfather always said that the best way to be awoken is with a woman's lips around your member; and you can hardly disagree. Alas, your usually morning greeting has been foregone this time, as you wish to conserve your vigor for your new guests. And so, dolefully, your morning glory wilts away unaided, as you go about your usual routine (minus plowing one of the maids of course). You are admittedly a touch disgruntled therefore as you break your fast in your room; a light spread supported by some coffee. The darling maid who brought it to you gives you pointed looks, obviously keen to relieve you, but you politely refuse her; truly this morning will be a trying one. Dressing yourself, as the maid makes your expansive bed, (it fits eight), you stretch and work the kinks out, already planning the rest of your day. With a resigned sigh, you ask after your guests, feeling your manhood straining against your pants at the thought of such gorgeous goddesses awakening in the nude; in your own house... You push such unctuous thoughts aside, it would be impolite to press things so quickly, best to let Aespa adjust to their new surroundings. There will be time enough later to indulge...

Your maid tactfully replies to your earlier query; it seems that Winter has been buzzing around the kitchens, shyly gobbling down whatever strikes her fancy. Ningning is apparently still snoring, asleep even at this late an hour. Giselle meanwhile has ordered her breakfast, and seems to enjoy imperiously bossing the the housemaids around; your dear informant seems quite excited by this, going so far as to suggest the idol soon may be taking certain liberties with them... Simply delightful. Finally, the socialite of last evening Karina has ensconced herself in her room, scarfing down the meal brought to her as she plays mobile games on her phone. Pleased at this information, you kindly thank the girl, wistfully holding back on granting her her usual reward; such a disruption these idols are causing!

Pushing aside the issue of a restless and rowdy staff, you decide to ease your worries with some heavy reading. Retiring to the library, you attempt to relax amongst its tall shelves and comfortable décor. Ignoring the more titillating works entirely (which are mostly unstained, guests are politely invited to relieve themselves inside of the maids rather than the books themselves), you peruse the stacks until you find something suitably dry. Depositing yourself into your usual cozy armchair by the windows, you put your legs up and enjoy the view. Grandfather's ornate gardens stretch out before you, with winding paths and ivy-covered ruins, a plethora of intimate spaces to enjoy with a lover. Burbling streams cross through the area, feeding into serene ponds and Classical fountains. There is even a pool, with an adjoining steam room and hot tub large enough to fit many guests. Feeling much more calm now, you immerse yourself in the vagaries of history, whiling away the hours until lunch is brought to you. You dismiss the maid with only a perfunctory groping, leaving her pouting as she sashays away. Shaking your head, you return your attentions to the past, where you are at least spared from such vulgar temptations.

But it seems that the Gods have not yet finished in testing their wayward son, as the buzz of excited conversation reaches your ears. Glancing out the window, you see that Aespa have discovered the gardens, and are quite enthused by what they've found. They chatter animatedly as they tour the area, walking along its shaded paths and cooling their feet in the clear water, clambering through the the trees and ruins, delighting in their explorations. Surprisingly, the sight of the sources of your rather distinct torment frolicking does not pain your loins; instead you feel only a sense of contentment at their happiness. The girls deserve some down time, and you are loath to interrupt their obvious joy. So you return to your reading with a satisfied smile, idly letting time pass until a loud splash interrupts your ruminations. Bemused, you return you gaze to the pool in time to see a goddess erupt from the water; Aphrodite reborn! You gasp as you take in the sublime spectacle of Karina shaking the water out of her hair, her heaving breasts barely contained by a jet black swim top. You are utterly captivated as she laughs gleefully, splashing towards the rest of the girls who perch at the edge of the pool. You find yourself unusually flustered at the sight of Karina gallivanting around in the water; perhaps your unnatural restraint was affecting your more than you had anticipated.

Resolving that a good wash would steady you, you head down to the communal showers (to think that some people prefer bathe alone, insanity!) to sooth your uneasy mind. After stripping in the changing room, you stride confidently into the steamy bathing area; encountering several equally nude maids who were just leaving. They giggle and roll their eyes at your chastity, surely your madness would soon pass and things would return to normal (If one counts fornicating with the hired help several times a day as normal, which they do). Stalking along the well-tractioned floor (The Old Man had insisted on being able to rail the maids safely while showering), you wrench several levers open, filling the vast room with a roiling curtain of steam. Sighing, you allow the hot water to broil your worries away, granting you some much needed clarity. Perhaps it would be best to relieve yourself with some of the maids, you would truly prefer to give Aespa more time to settle in before- ah, speak of the Devil! As if summoned by your wayward thoughts, Karina lithely glides into the showers, curiously glancing around as she takes the expansive room in. She is still in her swimsuit, most likely out of confusion from the unique (to her) bathroom, than intent to wear it while she cleans the chlorine off of herself. Karina is startled to find herself not alone, but quickly recovers her composure, giving you a coquettish glance as she fiddles with a showerhead near you. She politely ignores your staggeringly large erection, instead seamlessly complimenting you on your beautiful gardens. Your thoughts move sluggishly, but in a ringing endorsement of your upbringing, your mind automatically answers such platitudes. You both dance around the issue at hand, making inane conversation for several minutes until you amusingly inquire whether Karina will need to wash her swimwear off afterwards, considering how assiduously she is cleaning it now. She pauses at this, giving you a questioning look, silently asking if your joke indicated a deeper desire. You disarm her worries with a kindly smile to dismiss her worries of your intentions; you really would be have to plow the maids tonight... Then Karina makes her offer.

Karina proposes that she will allow you to lay with her once per day without resistance, should you spare the other members of Aespa from your attentions. Your loins roil with lust at this idea, your heart surging in appreciation of this deal. How brave she must be, to offer her own body up like this, truly she is what a leader should aspire to be; willingly sacrificing herself for her groupmates! The sheer courageousness of Karina in this matter nearly makes you weep, the romanticism of it all sends your blood singing through your veins. You nearly give in. Nearly. While your soul swoons with adoration, your mind remains relatively clear and focused, unbothered for now by the lust pounding through your body (One quickly learns to keep your head while lustful in Grandfather's house; after losing years' worth of allowance to canny maids, you figure out how to remain cognizant while engaging in vulgar activities. Also the blowjobs during Calculus tests did wonders, though you still feel strangely excited by derivatives). But even your magnificent control is being eroded away by the mere thought of carnal relations with this idol; your uncomforted manhood eagerly urging your acceptance. You are not your father's son for nothing however, and you put on a show of calm as you politely amend her offer, should Karina manage to make you finish within ten minutes; you will agree. Past that, then well, how could you concede to such a deal that would net you such mediocre sex?

Wreathed in steam, Karina is seemingly taken aback by this riposte; evidently she had thought you too consumed by lust to offer much resistance. She straightens her spine however, and takes you up on your challenge, confidently stalking close until you are almost touching. You indicate towards the clock on the wall, casually informing her that she may begin when ready; which she is. Karina breathes, "This won't take long", and squishes herself against you. When her soft hand grazes your erection you almost gasp at the electric thrill it sends through you, causing Karina's demeanor to grow ever bolder; surely she thinks that this will be easy... Falling to her knees before you, the bubbly idol strokes your shaft professionally, clearly intent on ending this contest before things get too out of hand. But you resist her efforts manfully, and she pouts in sudden irritation at this setback. So she brings out the big guns (per say), unlimbering her impressive breasts out of her top, leaning back for you to appreciate them in their full splendor. Truly, what a sight they are! While not the largest breasts you have ever seen (or carnally enjoyed), they are still beautifully shaped, and are easily the largest amongst Aespa. With a haltingly teasing smile, Karina squishes her bust together, courteously inviting you to mount them for you satisfaction. In an admittedly boorish haste, you accept, obligingly testing the softness of each breast with your member before sliding between them. The cozy closeness of Karina's bosom nearly ends you then and there; enfolding you within its sultry embrace as if graciously encouraging you to spill your seed upon her chest. As your pace begins to quicken and grow ever more regular, it seems as if you may just comply with Karina's body's seductive encouragements. Karina smirks up at you, and you realize that you are doing all the work for her; making you unmindfully forget the true objective of this coupling. With an impressed huff, you slow your thrusts, gallantly inquiring if the lady would deign to put some effort in. The lady rolls her eyes, but complies, expertly copying your earlier movements with professional ease; bringing you once more to the brink.

Evidently you were unwise to underestimate Karina's sensual skills, and your already aroused mood has really not helped with things. So with slightly desperate enthusiasm, you offer to pleasure Karina in turn, after all, it would be a poor host who does not see to his guests needs... But she brushes this delaying tactic off with negligible ease, firmly insisting that it would be the height of incivility for her to ignore her host's in his greatest time of need! Perhaps she would submit to such reciprocity once this pressing matter has been dealt with to your utmost satisfaction. Grasping at straws, you counter with the argument that the apex of any intimacy is the act of sex; so it would be unseemly to suggest the you are truly being satisfied in the highest possible fashion. Karina pauses as the gears turn in her head, glancing at the clock (five minutes left!) before muttering something rude under her breath. With a resigned sigh she releases your manhood from its fleshy prison, clambering back to her feet as she looks around for a suitable location for safe copulation. Luckily for the both of you, the showers are festooned with all manner of bars and handles; there is even an ergonomically shaped fuck-seat that supports almost any position. Courteously, you gently press Karina in which position she would like to couple in; after all, time is running out... Banishing her unease, she confidently decides that she will be on top, and firmly asks that you sit down so she might finish things. You are equally eager to proceed, less from time constraints and more at the cloying excitement that surges through you at the thought of entering Karina.

Reclining in the plastic seat, Karina swiftly pulls the bottom half of her bikini off, revealing her tender sex to you for the first time. Giddiness floors you at the the sight, you feel as if you are a virgin again, about to experience for the first time the warmth of a women. Karina blushes at your scrutiny, hands moving instinctively to cover herself before pausing; she gives you an awkward twitch of the lips. Remembering your manners, you sincerely compliment her on her beauty, before giving permission to continue as she wishes. Nodding sharply, Karina lithely straddles you, hauling your member up before inserting you fully into her font without preamble. Her pussy is exquisite. It accepts your entire length without complaint, yet also effortlessly grips your shaft; truly a divine combination that sends you reeling. Then she is riding you, her heavy breasts enticingly quivering with every movement, her dark brown nipples hardening and pressing outwards. It is a wonder that you do not inseminate her immediately, but your febrile desire to enjoy Karina to the fullest holds your building orgasm at bay. Something which grows ever more difficult as she shows off some genuinely spectacular acrobatic feats atop your cock. Her hips trace in the air mesmerizing geometric patterns, her taut stomach flexing and curling as your member is subjected to one of the most intense sexual techniques you have experienced. But Karina does not have it all her way, your own hips buck adroitly as she moves, intuitively seeking her sensitive spots even as she nimbly bounces on you. Color rapidly fills both your cheeks, until you can no longer contain the pent-up passion that has filled you since you had awoken. With a mighty groan you give in, and the damn breaks, causing you to shuddering painfully as your massive load explodes inside of Karina. Who in turn lets out a gasp of surprise, her own sex spasming as her legs twitch from her sudden orgasm. Rising from where she collapsed onto your heaving chest, Karina looks down on you with astonishment, clearly she had not realized exactly how much she was enjoying herself until your seed gushed inside of her. She blinks, before starting and jerking her eyes toward the clock... Karina appears mortified, and as you glance back you can see why, it was over 20 minutes past the starting time; even discounting the delay as you bandied terms, she had been riding you for over 15 minutes and had failed to notice it.

Blushing deeply with shame and embarrassment, she hurriedly clambers off of your dirtied member. She awkwardly showers off the juices you exertions produced, shyly rebuffing your compliments and intimacy before fleeing the room. Bemused and a touch put-out, you watch her go, perhaps she should learn to be a bit more honest with herself... Your mood is improved somewhat by the arrival of two more maids, who throw teasing glances at your crotch. Looking down, you realize that your session with Karina had failed to fully satiate the naughty thing between your legs. With a tired exhalation, you motion the girls over, and soon have one of them bent over against the wall, while the other laps at your swaying sack. Perhaps relying on the maids would not be the worst of ideas, even with your beauteous guests about...

That night's supper is a touch more awkward than the last, even with the lack of more formal wear. In a complete reversal of the previous night, Karina is rather withdrawn and shy, unabashedly chugging wine; making even Winter seem gregarious by comparison. Giselle remains as haughtily teasing as always, and seems to enjoy needling her leader's unexpectedly introverted mood. Ningning on the other hand seems mostly curious at the change, eyes darting suspiciously between you and Karina as she observes your interactions. The slightest of smiles touches her lips, before transforming into a scowl...

A/N: Well this one went longer than I expected, I hoped you all enjoyed it though! Its pretty enjoyable writing some fluff lol

#kpop smut #smut #aespa smut #karina smut

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cutielando · 5 months

Text

legacy ~ max verstappen

Summary: Yours and Max's son is starting his karting career and continuing his father's legacy, making Max and you reminisce about his glory days in Red Bull.

Words: 1.2k+

♡♡♡♡♡

"I'm so nervous. Why am I so nervous?" Max asked you as he stressed around, going in circles.

"Now you know how I've been feeling for the best 15 years, honey" you chuckled as you patted him on the back.

Yours and Max' eldest son had his first karting race today and Max has been the most worried parent in the world.

From checking his car over and over again, to making sure his gear would keep him perfectly safe, to talking him through every single thing he would ever need to know multiple times leading up to the race.

Your son was more than ready.

But Max still couldn't help but worry.

He was so happy when Y/S/N started showing interest in karting at a young age, glad that he could share his life's work with his son.

He had taken your little family to multiple races ever since he decided to retire from racing after he won his 10th WDC title. He loved explaining to your boy all about the cars, how they worked and how they managed to go so fast, basking in the curious gaze of your little boy.

Now that it was really down to his first karting race, Max was slowly starting to regret indulging his son's passion for racing sports.

"This is karma biting me in the ass, isn't it?" he asked slowly, still agitated.

"Yup" you smiled, crouching down when you saw your son running towards you.

"Mommy! Daddy! Are you ready to watch me?" Y/S/N asked once he reached you and gave you a hug, going to hug Max's tall body next.

"Of course we are, sweetie. We'll be cheering you on the entire time" you kissed his head before getting up, checking your phone quickly.

You had left your baby girl at home with your sister, skeptical about bringing her to the rink when she was still so young.

Y/S/N understood, even though he had wanted her there with him. He knew she was too young to even understand what he was doing.

"Now, remember what we talked about..." Max started telling your son and you zoned out, watching the two of them interacting.

You had come such a long way from when you first started dating. You never believed you would actually get to this point, happily married with 2 amazing and beautiful children. And yet, here you were, happier than ever, Max stressed as ever as well.

"Mommy, can you tell dad to stop worrying?" your boy asked as he took your hand and pulled you out of your thoughts.

You laughed and ruffled his hair. "Believe me, it's all I've been trying to do ever since we left home this morning"

Max rolled his eyes but smiled, worry still etched on his face.

♡♡♡♡♡

The race was well underway and your son was absolutely dominating every other small driver in the race.

He was leading and had managed to create a very impressive gap between him and the others, doing wonders on the track.

You kept stealing glances at Max who didn't let up his focus and concentration for even a second, his eyes glued to the screens and sometimes darting to the track when your son would pass you.

"And the winner is... Y/S/N Verstappen!" the commentator yelled out when the race had finally finished and your boy had come in first.

Max cheered loudly, quickly disregarding his headphones and scooping you up in his arms, both of you laughing and cheering.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Y/S/N yelled as he parked his car, got out and immediately spotted you in the big crowd of proud parents.

"You did it! You were so good, my love" you gushed as you helped him take off his helmet so you could hug him properly.

"Daddy! Did you see how good I was? I did it for you!" Y/S/N yelled out as you let go of him and he jumped into Max's awaiting arms.

"You did so good, my boy!" Max kissed the boy on the cheek and squeezed him tightly, making eye contact with you over the boy's shoulder.

You teared up a little, watching the two most important boys in your life embracing after such a big moment in your little boy's life.

It made you think of Max in his racing days, how you got the exact same feeling when he would be the one winning races.

He had some competition now.

♡♡♡♡♡

After taking Y/S/N for some well-deserved ice cream and some cheat food, the three of you made your way home, knowing your sister would probably be overwhelmed with your little girl.

"We're home!" you announced as soon as you entered the house, your sister and your daughter immediately appearing out of the kitchen.

"Hi, baby!" you cooed as you took your girl, her eyes wide and her smile wide as she recognized her mama cradling her.

"How was she today?" Max asked as he gave your sister a quick hug before opening the spare room and depositing Y/S/N's karting gear.

"Can I talk to her, mom?" your boy asked eagerly, and you knew he wanted to tell her all about his race.

You nodded and after saying goodbye to your sister, the four of you went to the living room, taking a seat on the couch.

You carefully put your daughter in your son's arms, and the moment she had settled down, Y/S/N started telling her every single detail about the race, her blabbing away happily as she watched her brother with wide eyes.

You knew she couldn't understand a word he was saying, but watching him with her made your heart explode with happiness.

♡♡♡♡♡

"What are you thinking about?" you asked Max once you went back downstairs after putting your children to bed.

Max was sitting on the couch, holding a trophy and a photo frame in his hands.

As you took a seat next to him, you recognized the trophy as being the last World Champion title he received before retiring, and the photo was of you two, holding newborn Y/S/N in your arms on the podium with him.

You smiled at the fond memories, remembering both days like it was yesterday.

"He reminds me of myself" he quietly said, a ghost of a smile present on his lips.

"He will give you a run for your money one day" you joked, bumping your shoulder with his.

He chuckled and nodded, but you noticed his smile didn't reach his eyes like it usually did when you would talk about your son.

"What's wrong?" you started rubbing circles on his back, feeling the tense muscles under your touch.

"I don't want him going through the same things I did" he explained, setting down both the trophy and the photo frame.

You took his face in your hands and made him face you.

"He's not going to go through that because he has us. We will make sure of that"

"I know, but we both know there will be talk because he's my son. Just like there was talk about me when I first started racing" he continued, looking down at his lap.

"Listen to me. Y/S/N has talent like I've never seen before in someone his age" Max mimics a look of offense, but you continue nonetheless. "People are going to see how talented he is and they won't even think about saying bad things about him or belittling him or his talent. He still has a very long way to go, my love"

Max pondered for a moment but nodded, wrapping his arms around you.

"I love you so much, you're the best mother I could have ever asked for for them" he whispered in your ear, kissing the spot just behind it.

"And you're the best father this world has ever seen. I love you, baby"

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whitehotforeva · 2 months

Text

gone - billy the kid.

❀ warnings - 18+, fingering, oral and slight angst.

❀ word count - 2,059

❀ a/n - this is my first fic, very bleh but whatever. hope whoever is reading this, enjoys <3

you had fallen asleep a few hours ago. your lantern burning brightly as you sighed and watched the sky darken as you waited for him. sometime along those few hours, you had fallen asleep.

the lamp was nearly burning out now, only bringing a faint warmth to the room. you stirred when you heard the sounds of a door opening and closing, and those familiar footsteps you had always anticipated.

your eyes slowly opened, squinting as a soft yawn left your lips and you rubbed at your eyes, a soft sound leaving your lips as you pulled yourself up to look at who finally visited at this hour.

there he was, standing in the glory of his days work. his curls damp against his forehead and his cheeks slightly tinted red at being out in the sun all day. you tiredly glanced at him, and his exhaustion seeped into your own as he pulled off his hat.

“angel.” he spoke out, his voice ragged and rough as he took a few steps towards you.

hurt coursed through you. but you couldn’t help but soften at his words. at his voice. at the way his eyes were filled with apologies and fatigue.

you tiredly stood up, your legs shaking a little as they got used to holding yourself down. your body dragged itself to your shared chest of drawers as you took out his night clothes. turning around, you saw him sat at the bed, those piercing eyes just watching you.

you made your way back to him, like you always did and you found yourself standing in between his legs. his heavy hands pulled you in, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he buried his face in your warm neck.

“missed you billy.” you murmured out, your fingers making their way to his wild curls as you ran your fingers through them. it was a constant battle, of you pushing away the pain of his identity and of you comforting him because of it. his days were hard and long. too long. when you first started your relationship with billy, you truly didn’t expect how exhausting it was to be waiting up on him every single night. to be crying yourself to sleep if he didn’t show up one night, scared that he had lost his life in a fight against another outlaw.

relief flooded your chest each time you saw him, but so did dread as you were reminded he would leave again and the cycle would repeat. your grip on his curls tightened.

his lips brushed against your neck.

“i’m sorry.”

you just sighed out. he promised he’d be here today. for weeks you’d feel his body sink into the bed besides you as he held onto you, as he thrusted into you - desperate for the warmth you could give him in the night that he couldn’t steal in the day.

and he left you cold in the morning. he’d be gone. it hadn’t always been like this, but he had been stepping up with his responsibilities with the rest of his gang and stepping down for yours. you knew it wasn’t his fault. it was what his life demanded of him.

what else did you expect when you fell in love with an outlaw?

billy was hurting too. but some things needed to be done. he told himself it was for your future together, but he couldn’t see that the idea of your future together was crumbling because he hardly was even there. last night as he held you in his arms, grunting as he snapped his hips against yours, the sounds of promises being made to you alongside with the slapping of your skin together filled the room. he had promised that today would be special. that he would leave the boys early evening and come back to you.

you had prepared something especially for him and held so much excitement in your heart as you waited for his tall frame to walk through the door of your well tidied home, warm with the efforts of your love seeping in the air. he didn’t come so you didn’t eat. at first you were a little hopeful, waiting idly wondering if he was simply running late but deep down you knew it. you knew he had let you down again.

he had lifted his face up now, and those dark blues were taking every inch of your face in. he noticed your eyes were slightly swollen, no doubt from how much you had cried earlier. his hands moved up to cup your face as his eye contact stayed. you always wanted to look away from his stare. it was so piercing. he intimidated you in a way, a man so beautifully sculpted, looking at you? you felt embarrassed by just staring at him back, but something in you had looking up into his eyes helplessly. you knew where this would go, and as his hands trailed down to the buttons of your nightgown, you hated that you were right.

you let him pull it off you, and tears filled your dark orbs as his brows furrowed with pity and guilt swimming in his eyes. he pulled your delicate naked frame close to his as he sat you onto his lap.

“i let you down. again princess.”

his fingers rubbed gently against your thighs as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. your cheek was wet now, but he was so quick to wipe it away. heat blossomed in your stomach. it felt like a sickening combination as butterflies and pain danced together in the pit of your stomach.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry angel. i truly am.”

and with that, you burst into tears, your chest heaving up and down as he began to softly rub your back, cooing into your ears as the bottom of his own stomach brimmed with guilt and desire.

“fuckin’ asshole i am. hurting my sweet baby. i’ll make it up to you. i will.” he almost pleaded as he pressed a firm kiss against your shoulder, letting you dampen his neck and the collar of his shirt.

you stayed like that for a few minutes as he held you. as he took in your cries. as his fingertips grazed against your back comfortingly. eventually you began to calm down, sniffling as you hid your face into his wet neck.

“i’m tired billy.”

your words were like a whisper. and his were too.

“i know.”

you needed him. you needed his comfort. you needed him to be skin to skin with you, having you forget the pain of his absences as he filled your mind with stars and filled your body with his length. you wanted to kick yourself for it, but this distraction was delicious and sweet. and it was the only distraction you could take in the little time you had with him.

so as your thigh softly squirmed against him, he sighed out at the feeling of his pants tightening before gently laying you down. his eyes were sad and hungry, taking your naked body properly in as the blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your beauty. of your vulnerability. you never had looked more beautiful to him than you did now. your long hair messily framing your face as your wide eyes were glossy, sad and slightly red. your lips were quivering. he couldn’t help but lean down and take them into a kiss.

your lips moved together with a heat that burned in a unexplicable way. he could taste the hurt in your mouth and pulled away, breathing out as he took off his own clothes whilst you watched. the heat in you grew and your lips parted in surprise as he gently pushed your thighs apart and lowered his head down to your most intimate area.

a soft kiss was pressed to your inner thigh that had you breathing out.

“i’m sorry.”

another kiss.

“i’m sorry.”

another kiss.

“i’m sorry.”

and another.

each kiss had been inching closer and closer to the bit where you needed it the most. you stayed quiet, your breath caught in your throat as his eyes met yours.

i’m sorry, they spoke as his tongue licked up a strip down your folds that had you gasping at the sensation. your wetness was glistening as he began to hungrily savour your taste, his tongue licking up your slit before taking your little button into his mouth.

“billy!” you gasped out, the pleasurable sensation of your sensitive little button shooting through your body as you writhed against his tongue. your brows furrowed as small gasps left your lips, his own lips getting rougher as he licked his apology into you.

your glossy eyes glanced at his dark blues, clouded with lust as he devoured you, moaning out against your puffy lips at your taste as you whimpered out, your mind already going a little hazy as electric ran through your body. before you realised, you felt his long finger sinking into you as you whined out, raising your hips slightly as desperate pants left your mouth.

he slipped another finger in, his lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves as he pumped in and out. “ohhh!” you moaned out, your hips meeting his thrusts a little faster as he curled his fingers upwards, hitting your sweet spot as a squeal left your lips.

“love you. love your pussy. i love you.” he groaned against your heat before sucking onto your bud and watching as you arched your back, body perfectly curving in delight at the sensations of his long thick fingers filling you and hitting the spot that had you seeing stars whilst he played with your clit in his mouth.

you desperately humped against his lips and fingers as the coil in your stomach finally snapped, having you sobbing out loud as your high hit you.

you shook, whimpering loudly as your tears streamed down your face and your juice covered his own. he moaned into your pussy, tasting your juices as he was sure the tip of his cock was angry, red and leaking pre-cum. he could taste you forever, your juices sweet and all he ever needed to ever quench his thirst. he pulled his fingers out, his wet lips pulling into a smirk as he raised his body up over your shaking one, his wet fingers that were coated with your juices making their way to in between your lips as you began to suck on them.

he groaned out, the sight of you sucking on his fingers covered with your own juices as tears streamed down your face having his cock throbbing painfully. “shhhh angel. there we go.” he spoke gently, his two fingers in your mouth as his other hand stroked your cheek. your hair had gotten slightly damp against your skin but he loved the sight of you. fucked out by just his fingers and tongue. but you deserved it.

as much as he wanted to pull the belt off his trousers now and sink his cock into you so deep you’d be sobbing all night for it to stop, he couldn’t. he didn’t want to be selfish. you needed this. just this. just focused on you.

you nursed on his fingers, your eyes fluttering innocently as you squeezed your thighs together, moaning softly against his long digits in your mouth. “atta girl. proud of you baby.” he spoke out, his voice deep and low as you felt your heart flutter. your eyes felt heavy, the emotions of your weeks and orgasm suddenly hitting you as his fingers comforted you and had you feeling soothed. before you knew it, your eyes drifted closed, still slowly sucking on his fingers.

as dawn arrived a few hours later, sunlight filled your room you squinted, covering your eyes as you attempted to block the sun. you furrowed your brows, wanting billy to somehow destroy the sun and let you sleep for a little longer. you lazily threw your hand out on the side of the bed where he’d lay but it was met with nothing except for the feeling of your bedsheets rubbing against your hand.

the dread filled your stomach and you knew. no point in opening your eyes to check. he was gone.

#billy the kid #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #william bonney #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #tom blyth #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #william bonney x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #smut #william h bonney #tom blyth smut

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historiaxvanserra · 3 months

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Every Exquisite Thing | A Regency AU

Summary: The first of the season brings with it so many things; new friends, new enemies, a masquerade ball, and a rakish young gentleman with eyes like burnished gold.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader (Regency AU)

Word Count: 3.1k

This is the first part of a series that had been consuming my thoughs day and night for about two weeks. We don't meet Eris yet but we get glimpses and I like what I see 👀 I just wanted to give a feel for the regency vibe and see if we're feeling it or not! Next chapter well get Eris in all his regency glory and I promise you, he's worth the wait.

The townhouse that your family occupies on the main street of the Ton is unusually quiet this morning, you think. The first of the season typically brings with it an air of frivolity; the ladies in their Spring colors, gentlemen riding horse-drawn carriages through the cobblestone streets and the hum of the city beyond. A myriad of color -- lilacs and honeysuckle, dappled with the greenery that climbs along the facades of the townhouses -- a colorful oasis from the bleak gray and green of a Winter spent in the country.

However, today, the main square, where Pryhtian’s most ancient and noble families convalesce during the fairer months, is blanketed in an oppressive palette of indigo and gray as the last of the Winter’s storms ravages the world beyond Crescent House.

The sound of the howling wind as it rages like a great tempest through the streets rouses you from your perch on the chaise near the dying hearth.

The street below the parlor is veiled in the shadowed hues of the storm and not a soul in town has dared brave the wrath of the elements since the dourpour began. Hail patters dismally against the window panes of your families townhouse and an ice-kissed wind crawls its way along the exposed planes of your shoulders and collarbones and in the distance you hear the distinctive draw of a carriage along the main square, near Forest House. As you near the window you observe the hail as it falls like pearls from the darkening sky onto wet, cobbled streets.

From the oppressive darkness a carriage emerges; a considerable vehicle of polished wood, lacquered with dark emerald paint, the trim and doors are framed with delicate golden embellishments and the doors and rear bear a family crest, obscured by the gloom of the afternoon. The cart itself is drawn by four bay stallions with long, dark manes, sodden with the downpour. From the cabin steps a shadowy figure of a man, once obscured by the oppressive darkness, now illuminated by the lamplight; he’s all dressed in black, save for the white collar of a linen shirt and his long hair, curls away from his face in tousled, auburn waves. He burns most ardent against the bleak afternoon, even in the din of the oil lamps, he looks like something out of one of Feyre’s paintings. Or perhaps the formidable and brooding romantic lead of the romance novels Nesta so adores. Either way he cuts an intimidating figure in the dark streets of the main square. Tall and broad-shouldered, and rather rakish as he stalks up the steps of the townhouse opposite yours.

From your perch overlooking the street you see him turn outward; admiring the graceful planes of his face, the aquiline nose and high-cheekbones falling to the slender cut of his waist and hips and the broad spread of his shoulders and sculpted arms.

It occurs to you then that you have been all too obvious in your voyeurism.

You are watching him.

And he is watching you in return.

The very thought elicits something in you; something dark and sentimental and terribly anxious. It is a cruel, coiling thing, in the pit of your stomach. Some ill-fated omen. A harbinger of your own downfall. The ghost at the feast, or a raven in the night that spells your undoing. Whatever it is, there is a deep sense of foreboding in you at the prospect of what this dark figure might herald in with him.

The tolling of the city bells brings with it a flurry of movement on the street and your eyes meet his strange amber gaze across the way and he scowls. A deep furrow of a brow; the firm set of his jaw, the flex of a pale hand, before retreating into the house.

“Come away from the window girl,” Your mother chastises in her usual cutting tone as she eyes you from her place in front of the hearth. Her gloved hand inspects the fine silk fabric of the dresses the modiste had sent to her. She holds the fabric between those fine-boned fingers and drapes each swatch over the pale skin of her slender arm with a rehearsed ease as she takes the time to scrutinize every hand-sewn seam and embroidered adornment.

“Yes mama.” You say absentmindedly, casting one last longing glance towards the dark facade of the townhouse across the street, where the orange flicker of candlelight illuminates the window..

Your mother is an austere woman with a cutting sort of beauty rather unlike your own. Her eyes are cold and grey and her features, angular; feline in a way that is almost unnerving to look at. Though even in her age, she bares fine, high cheekbones, unblemished skin, and her long golden hair falls over the delicate slope of her shoulder in coiffed ringlets. She had been quite a remarkable beauty in her youth, it had been said. Now all that remains of her lost youth is an oil painting hung above the hearth-- the paint, yellowed and cracked with age-- and the legacy of her ancient and most-noble lineage.

Her piercing gaze falls onto you again as you take a turn about the room, perching on the cushioned bench in front of the pianoforte. You run a hand over the untuned keys and in your wake dust mites filter through the stagnant air.

That piano had once been the beating heart of this room; a symphony of high arching notes that rang through the halls of this house.

It has not been touched since Nesta left.

“You look drawn, my dear,” She says simply, her eyes cruel and unyielding as she looks over you and the fine silk draped over her arm, “green does so very little for your complexion.”

She considers you for a moment longer before turning to the modiste with a quirked brow. The seamstress at least, has the good grace to look apologetically between you and your youngest sister before nodding in agreement to your mother. She murmurs that a deeper shade of green would suit you better, though your mother ignores her entirely.

“Perhaps an emerald tone would suit better” she muses to no one in particular.

“It would make you look more…tempting” The modiste decides with a sly smile to you when your mother looses a shrill gasp. Your mother hums her disapproval once more from her spot in the armchair before turning her attention towards Feyre on the modiste’s podium as the slender woman takes her measurements for the last alterations to her gown.

“You look beautiful Fey,” You say lightly, pulling at your own faded sage gown as you regard your youngest sister, “the silver looks exquisite on you.” Feyre smiles brightly at you from her place on the podium and pulls a few strands of her long, golden hair to frame her face. She looks as though she is wreathed in starlight in the silver gown; the high bust lays perfectly over her chest and the cuffed sleeves are trimmed with silver thread and sheer lace and accentuate the slope of her strong shoulders, the skirts fall in a swathe of silk and chiffon and the pearls and opal sewn into the skirts catch like moonglow in the blue light. She smooths the skirts with a flair of her gloved hand and admires the matching slippers that peek out from the long hem.

“Hmm,” Your mother murmurs lowly, bringing a slender hand to her painted mouth as she assesses the garment carefully, “Yes - the silver favors you, my darling.” Your mother purses her lips once more and nods decisively at the modiste who offers a courteous bow in response.

“I have hopes that the Lady of Autumn might name you her ‘incomparable’, afterall.” Your mother’s voice is frightfully wistful as she casts a look up to her portrait hung above the dying fire. Beside it, on the mantle Nesta’s painted face stares back impassively at you and you feel anxiety twisting within you again. Feyre laughs. A small, disbelieving thing as she thanks the modiste and exits the parlor in favor of her sketchbook.

“She did so love Nesta when she was first presented,” You mother recalls, her eyes glassy as she sips at her cold tea with a grimace, “and your sister does so remind me of her.”

You smile fondly at the thought of your eldest sister; painfully absent for the last few years but missed dearly. Nesta had always bore the brunt of your mother’s cruelty -- until she could bare it no more -- and then you took her place.

“Yes mama, she will do very well at court.” You say genuinely, though your mother can’t bring herself to acknowledge you. You bite down the bitter taste of jealousy when her eyes linger on the portrait of Nesta hung along the mantel. The way her brows dip in a moment of fleeting grief for her favorite daughter.

When she looks at you again you get the sense that looking at you now -- in the pallid light of the storm -- is like looking in a mirror.

It is a mother’s curse you think.

A daughter’s burden.

Breathing deeply as the modiste pins the hem of the dress you find yourself thinking of the happy recollections of your childhood; you think perhaps your mother is reminiscing on those times too.

She had been the only daughter of an Earl somewhere on the continent once. Beautiful and graceful. Green and foolhardy. Named the incomparable of her own social season; she had dreams of an idyllic life in the countryside, summers shaded in the laughter of her many sons, and measured in the unyielding smiles of a good husband.

Of course, as was the way of things, her girlhood ideations had been nought but that-- dreams. Dashed and divided like stardust in a vast twilight abyss.

A series of scandals and bad investments led her to Pryhtian as the sole heir to an old name. A lamb to the slaughter by her own mother, to be the docile wife of some dull Lord, almost two decades her senior

In time, she did the same to her own daughters.

Time is a cruel mistress; and the woman she is now is one tarnished by the years. Imposing and cynical; demanding in a way that it was impossible to please her. In your youth you recall her endless cruelty towards you all, though none more than Nesta.

Her prodigy.

Her pride and joy.

It was that ceaseless need for perfection that drove Nesta away in the end.

So with the wave of her hand she gestures to you to take to the podium.

An ill-fated replacement for the daughter she lost.

Her perpetual disappointment.

The modiste is a young woman, who hails from the continent with beautiful dark hair that fell in coiled ringlets over her shoulders, she speaks to you in a low, velvet tenor and has a thick accent that distinguishes her to the natives of this land. She is favored by many of the young ladies of the Ton for her exquisite garments; each made with richly adorned and embroidered fabrics imported from her homeland. You watch impassively as she records your measurements and swatches a few scraps of fabric against your skin. The woman quickly discards the silver that Feyre had worn and opts instead for gold and offers your mother a few other options for your dresses this season; sapphire and cerulean, emerald and ruby, topaz and onyx.

Then selects a beautiful emerald gown, trimmed with jade and adorned with matching beads and crystals that shine with the glittering darkness of some forgotten forest when the light of the storm outside refacts in their many surfaces. The modiste admires the garment as she holds it up to you; her keen eyes finding yours and smiling brightly and nodding deliberately.

“This is the one,” She says, her accent so thick with delight that it is difficult to fully understand the words, “perhaps the Lady of Autumn might name you her favorite in your sisters place” She offers it jovially, almost in jest but your mother’s face twists nonetheless.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Your mother laughs cruelly as she regards you in the beautiful garment. You think perhaps that in you she sees all the things she hates about herself. Your mother takes a moment to scrutinize you; her eyes reap over every curve and divot of the skirts as they fall against you, every minute details to find fault where she can.

It is a mothers’s curse, not to know a daughter’s pain.

You imagine it is also a mercy too when she looks at you like you are her own reflection.

Her perpetual disappointment.

After another silent moment she nods her head to the modiste and rises to her feet. The tea cup rattles and rings viscously through icy air as she sets it down and wanders towards the doors.

“Oh Feyre darling, you look exquisite!” Your mothers voice is shrill and dripping with pride that elicits a strange sort of jealousy and you swallow down its bitter taste. In the foyer your sister glides down the marble staircase dressed in all her finery.

Feyre has the type of beauty reminiscent of a falling star; all pale skin, that looks like porcelain, dappled with the iridescent stardust that falls from the sky around her birthday each year. Her dress is one of flowing indigo and complemented by intricate silver embroidery along the cuffs and bust, the long line of her neck is adorned with pearls and diamonds that refract in the light of the chandelier; dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky.

She smiles brightly and her laugh echoes like birdsong around the hall as your mother takes her hand. And almost like an afterthought, your mother regards you with thinly veiled horror at the garment that clings to you like a plate of armor.

A deep merlot gown, inlaid with rubies and pearls; that cast a bloody halo as you step into the light of the chandelier. The skirts bleed into a train made of gossamer thin spidersilk that has a metallic quality to it that makes you feel as though you are some ancient Goddess of love and war.

Aphrodite perhaps, as deadly as she is beautiful.

Your hands, though they tremble, bare many gold rings, each polished to the heavens so that she sees her face distorted in their many unblemished surfaces. There is a part of you that hopes craves your mothers love more than you long to insight her ire.

But that part of you died the day Nesta went away.

“How do you suppose you’re going to tempt a man into marrying you dressed like that,” She chastices, pulling at the skirts of your wine red dress, “you look like a common whore.”

“At least a whore is paid to abide the insipid company of boring men.” you counter under your breath as your mother strides out into the street. You catch Feyre’s eye and she smiles at you like a feral cat.

The rest of the carriage ride is spent in solemn silence as the facade of The town hall draws ever closer. You mother’s idle gossip about one Lord of the other hardly seems the rouse you from though as you watch the world beyond this cart pass you by.

The storm had broken sometime around midday and the tempest gave way to sunlight; soft ochre and gold as it filtered through the open windows of your father’s library, where you had spent the afternoon. Nestled into the worn armchair favored by your father and a quiet comfort when he is away. There, in the confines of your father’s study, you allow yourself to dream; of debauched gentlemen and tortured artists. Stories painted with the vivid imaginings of Gothic heroines and vast and sweeping landscapes. Of temptation and sacrifice.

It is a hobby inherited from your sister and one much discouraged by your mother.

But as afternoon bled into night you were called away from the pages of manuscripts written in some foreign tongue. For, the Lady of Autumn’s masquerade ball marks the true commencement of the social season each year. It is a night of mystery and secrets; of dark romance and all things fanciful.

It is the one night a year that you allow yourself to be swept up in the excitement of the season and tonight every eligible Lord and Lady will don their finery for a night of high-arching orchestral music and sweeping dances that herald in the social season.

It is tonight of all nights where the Lady of Autumn will name the incomparable of the season; a young woman both fair and accomplished that will inspire awe and ire in equal measure. For her troubles she might hope to tempt an eligible gentleman into marriage by summer’s end. And as your mother gives Feyre one more adoring look you know that she is hoping that your sister will insight that awe tonight.

The carriage draws to a tumultuous halt outside the doors of the grand town hall and you hear the distant laughter of courtiers. The chatter of the ladies distracts you momentarily and you catch their idle chatter; something about the new Duke and his wicked beauty. A beauty as cruel as he is, they say. Their chatter dies when they meet your eyes and they devolve into mean-spirited whispers about the poor Archeron girls and their absent sister.

“Quickly girls, we mustn't be late.” Your mother instructs and steps from the carriage turning expectantly as you disembark from the vehicle with all the grace you can manage. Your stomach twists in knots and the anxiety is so consuming that it addles your mind. So much so that any intelligent thought you might have had seems to abandon you.

The gardens of the town hallare saturated in the light of the last shadowed sunbeams as they are obliterated by the rapidly falling night; veins of indigo and amethyst that streak across the black. The air is heady and thick with the smell of wildflowers and wine and every now and again you catch the scent of half-burned oak and bergamot’s on the evening breeze.

The first of the season is in full swing and the courtiers look like a jewel toned fire in their finery; swathes of ruby and topaz, dappled with emerald and carnelian. You had felt the shift in the air when the sun had begun to set in the sky; that anticipation so palpable you could taste it. It tastes like wood and wildflowers, undercut with something darker.

You abandon yourself to the thought of it; what he might taste like.

Hedonism; earthy and dangerous as you swallow it back.

In an hour or two, when the stars materialize like a million quarts against the velvet abyss, the Ladies will retreat into the mazes, in twos or threes and their Lords, like hungry wolves will begin the hunt.

A hunt that will last the season

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris acotar #eris vandaddy

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