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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

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*based off this awesome art right here by @chocoarts - the sketch on the left in particular :)

It doesn’t take long for Steve to get used to Eddie’s raised-by-wolves levels of affection. The hair chewing and the shoulder nibbles and the freckle licking. It’s never classified normal stuff - definitely not stuff he ever did with dainty Hawkins High girls, that’s for damn sure.

But still, it takes no time to get used to it. Full on expects it, by now. The most notable time that Steve is expecting it is on their one year anniversary.

Two months prior to the Big Day, Eddie's spontaneity and Steve's boredom led to an impulsive stick-and-poke tattoo on Steve's forearm. Eddie wanted to give Steve a simple crown. Told him it was to reclaim the stupid nickname from high school, make it his own.

'Overthrow all the teenaged bullshit. Kick trauma in the metaphorical ass.' Eddie had said after completing it, smiling up at Steve. 'It's what kings do best.'

After that day, Steve decides to add on to his impulsive tattoo and surprise Eddie with it. He gets one small bat, just like the ones on Eddie's arm. Gets it right next to the crown, side-by-side. The same way they all fought together a while back.

As soon as Eddie sees the addition, he tackles Steve, linebacker style. Steve is ready for it, totally braces for the aggressive affection. Fucking loves it. Expects it.

However, Eddie doesn't just stop there. Oh no. He climbs up Steve's body, tightly wrapping his arms around Steve's neck. Wraps his legs around Steve's upper arms even tighter.

Which... how the hell did Eddie get so flexible? And when the hell did Eddie get so flexible? Like, yeah they do some semi-contortionist stuff in the bedroom, mostly when they're hyped up on sugary soft drinks.

But this? This is... new. Wild.

He clutches on to Steve like he's a goddamn tree trunk. Some rare tree species that's in grave danger of being chopped down from the rainforest or whatever. He’s making lots of pleased sounds, singing maybe. Hard to tell for sure.

Steve holds Eddie firmly, hands underneath his thigh, his back, anywhere that he can get a solid grip. Keeps him safe from whatever corporate bulldozer that dares to take down their weirdly amazing love.

"Shit, I'm crazy about you." Eddie nuzzles into Steve's hair. "Like... totally and completely."

Steve laughs, comes out a bit strangled from the way Eddie is clinging to him. "Guessing you like it, huh?"

"Duh." Eddie slides off, connecting their hands on his way down.

"It represents-"

"I know what it represents." Eddie interrupts, his expression softens from the reminder, the difficult topic they're both skipping around. "You don't have to say it."

He does though, Steve has to say it. Needs to say it the same exact way Eddie had said it to him two months ago.

Because yeah, they act tough about what went down that night. But that doesn't mean they should just be stuck in a cycle of Acting Tough. Pretending to be okay all the damn time.

So Steve takes Eddie's arm, the one that's covered with tiny bat silhouettes. He holds their two arms together and carefully brushes over each tattoo design. Tells Eddie to reclaim the stupid scars that litter his body.

"Fight off all the inter-dimensional bullshit. Kick trauma's metaphorical ass." Steve smiles up at Eddie, who suddenly looks serious, focused. "It's what heroes do best."

"Steve." The seriousness is wiped clean off of Eddie's face. It's quickly replaced with a gentle grin. Relief reaching over his furrowed brow. No more worry lines. No more grimace. He looks at ease. Content, maybe.

And as much as Steve enjoys making Eddie feel content, he wants him happier right now. So he switches up the energy, tries to lighten the mood a little. Steve hooks his fingers into Eddie's front pockets, readying to pull him in.

It's predictable, been his go to make-out move any time they're standing up. This is a special fucking day, however, and that calls for a Special Edition Make-Out Move.

So Steve digs each hand deep into Eddie's pockets, wiggles them around a bit. Watches Eddie's cheeks go pink, blotchy red in some places. Steve moves all of the coins and lint and questionable items out of the way, making room.

He takes deep breath, then yanks the seams at the very bottom of each pocket, flipping the material inside out. Sticking straight up from his jeans.

Eddie is all red now, flushed down to his neck. "What the..."

Steve tugs on the flipped out pocket seams, jolting Eddie closer. He lands on Steve's lips, colliding a bit roughly. For a second, they're too busy smiling to kiss properly. But Steve slides his hands up Eddie's chest, around his neck, scratches the tiny hairs on the back of Eddie's head, and that's it. That's all that it takes for them to get lost in the kiss.

Eddie's mouth opens, biting the center of Steve's bottom lip. Breathes out the warmest air as he lets go, returns to a softer approach. Steve licks over the spot, soothes the pulse that Eddie left behind.

"That was... different. " Eddie laughs. He swipes his tongue over Steve's cupids bow, traces an outline until Steve is laughing too.

"Bad different?" Steve asks.

"Not at all." Eddie shakes Steve by the shoulders like he’s nuts for asking such an outrageous question. "Besides, different is right up my alley, babe."

"I'm highly aware."

"Didn't realize I was such a bad influence on your freakier side."

"What can I say?" Steve shrugs, steals one of Eddie’s rings to twirl around his finger. "I'm very easily persuaded."

They head over to the couch, kissing haphazardly as they flop down. Eddie tugs and twists at the fabric of Steve’s shirt, stretching it out. Wrinkling it. Steve couldn’t care less if it gets ruined because Eddie will be the one ruining it.

Eddie sighs into the kiss. Not a sexy sigh either (which are obviously Steve’s favorite of the sighing variety). It sounds more shocked. Disbelief or something.

Steve angles his head away from the kiss to see that Eddie’s eyes are open, wandering all over Steve’s face. It’s pretty cute, seeing Eddie too busy just staring to even shut his eyes mid-kiss. Like his schedule is too jam-packed up with Gawking, has to multitask during their make out sessions now.

"Kinda can’t believe it." Eddie finally says, still staring.

"What?" Steve stares backs. Makes it a staring contest. Doesn't tell Eddie though cause he wants to win.

Eddie motions toward his pockets that are still turned inside out. "After one whole year, you still keep me on my toes with shit like that."

"I do?"

"Sure do. You're something else, babe.”

"I am?" Steve blinks.

Damnit, he lost the one-sided staring contest.

“Yup.” Eddie nods, transitions to chewing on a chunk of Steve’s hair like he always does. Sometimes, he’ll make mooing sounds. Especially after sex, when he’s at his goofiest. Most comfortable.

It’s fucking unreal how Steve has learned all of these quirks. How he waits for them, anticipates them. Every bit feels familiar to him now.

"You're unexpected in all the best ways, Harrington."

Steve tries not to gush at that compliment. It's not one he gets often.

Eddie stops chewing on Steve’s hair to kiss his cheek instead. The kiss is powdery-sweet, miles away from his usual eagerness. Still perfect somehow. Just like the weird stuff is somehow perfect too.

That's kind of who they are together. Weird and unexpected.

In all the best ways.

#steddie #steddie fic #bit of fluff to sweeten the weekend #just wanted to celebrate their 2k follower milestone with this little ficlet #so congrats!! 🎉#thank you for creating lovely art for this fandom!#I’m sorry I can’t draw nice things to show my gratitude #so I hope these words will be sufficient instead :)#and if you hate them then just pretend this never happened lol

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randomyuu · 1 month

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so hold my hand (consign me not to darkness) [1/4]

Ah, yes. The fic that made me realise I’m in desperate need of Cursed Spirit Gojou in my ever-growing favourite GoYuu tropes.

Content Warning!

Major Character Death. Other characters are disrespectful to the corpse.

I highly suggest you read the fic first, or just the fic, since I don’t think I was properly able to adapt it into drawings. While I managed to use roughly two weeks of on-and-off planning, researching, and storyboarding, I only had a full week to finish it. You can read more of my thoughts below the comic if you’re curious.

Title: so hold my hand (consign me not to darkness)

Author: qalb_al_louz

It’s ongoing, and as of this drawing, the fic is in its third chapter. While this is (sexually) SFW, always be mindful of the tags! Please keep yourself safe and sound.

Please read from right to left, and enjoy!

You can only upload 30 images in one post, huh Damn, I gotta divide it into parts

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Alrighty, I'll put my watered down unhinged thoughts below. No extra drawings down there if you're curious haha (unless you want to see the storyboard and the characters' full body character sheet, lemme know). You can skip the stuff underneath the Keep Reading for all parts.

This fic had me grinning from ear to ear every time I read this. The atmosphere, how it goes from POV to POV—of pure fear and panic—and the peak excitement I got when Yuuji properly meets Gojou, like brooooo 😭

Gosh I cannot emphasise how much I love this fic. I’ve always been wanting to make a whole comic out of it, especially since it was 2 chapters and it doesn’t look like the author will update it, but it just… kind of forgotten ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

But then the author posted a new chapter and I told myself this is a sign I should really start.

also goddamn I was so naive to think I can tackle 2 chapters as comic—no I was in fact cannot

The moment I laid my eyes on the first paragraph, things were portrayed very vividly in my mind. The panel, the angle, Gojou's head rolling down... I was like, hell yeah. Then I continued reading and I finally succumbed to my desire to draw this out.

At first I want to adapt this into a vertical format like those manhwas. However the longer I try to learn and storyboard it... I am simply not yet comfortable with it, especially for such a big project. Even the 1st storyboard starts vaguely vertical before the panels quickly crammed into that B4-B5 format lol. The first sketch estimated 69 (heh) pages for 90% of chapter 1. I said "no" for my own sanity and fully focused on the usual manga format and it was narrowed down to 60. Still a lot though, quantity and time-wise. So with a heavy heart, I can only do the majority of chapter 1 :”) I really really want to draw Sukuna talks back to Gojou—do you have any idea how good that scene was??? Gojou tried so hard to restrain himself, he’s so other I love him 😭

Due to the sheer length of this comic (I'm still in disbelief), I have limit lots of things, and that includes the drawing. If you've seen my other JJK fanarts, they are more rendered than this one. Well, this one is purely sketched with the help of the eraser to tidy up some lines. This is also the first fanart that I did purely on Photoshop, so I can control the typesets and drawings in one place. Usually, I use Photoshop for panels and typesetting and Krita for drawing.

I don't really like Photoshop's brush, but it did really well in curbing my perfectionist tendencies, so that's good.

It's also been quite a while since I draw in general (sobs) so... yeah, you might find differences, or not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

I know setting is important, but maaan I genuinely won't miss rereading chapter 83-93 with a heavy focus on background and character locations. I just want to read the action and dialogue😭 However continuity is really important. But my spatial intelligence is almost non-existent even GPS sometimes can't help me. All I'm saying is that if you find some silly drawing mistakes, do forgive me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿I only drew all this in a week because otherwise I won't have another chance to complete this.

Well, lots of things I won't miss from this project, but haha let's talk about the characters instead because holy shit what was I thinking, starting this year drawing this many characters in the same project??? I have never drawn anyone here except for Yuuji, Gojou, Nanami and Megumi. I don't think I've ever drawn older Getou before. I already forgot how to draw my boy Yuuji and I gotta draw all these people???

This is what you call making a bad decision, kids. Don't do your "drawing warmup" after months of not drawing and tackling a project of a scale way bigger than you've ever tackled before.

Thank you for reading this far! I hope you find my complaint entertaining! But make no mistake, I genuinely still love the fic. Drawing this, even with all the headaches it gave me, only makes me adore this fic even more.

Thank you very much to each one of you who follows and leaves comments and tags on my silly art—it never failed to make my day :D And I sincerely wish this one also made your day or even made your minute! I'll see you in the next part!

#yuu's art #jjk-fic-fanart #jjk-ship #五悠 #goyuu #goyu #5u #gojou x yuuji #shibuya arc #shibuya arc canon divergence #lots of characters on this one #kenjaku #chousou #mahito #jogo jjk #gojo satoru

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wishingstarinajar · 9 months

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so i said in the last ask that i had some head canons. and i wrote one out. it ended up being a lot longer then it was meant to be but here is it. (also im not the best at writing, having dyslexia sucks so sorry if it sounds a bit off or anything.) hope you like it :)

Case has a secret room in his lab/office.

This room is hidden behind a bookshelf, and to open it you need to pull on a certain book and the middle shelf moves to the side, like the secret doors in movies.

Once the shelf moves you're greeted with a long dark hallway. No light. No sound. It's all pretty scary and spooky until you reach a big metal door with a complex lock on it. Your first thought is that it's just another room filled with experiments and computers. Or maybe something darker. That's why it's so hidden.

But if you somehow manage to unlock the door (or it was left open) then…

The first thing to catch your eyes is a big fancy old shiny gramophone sitting on a dark red-wood cabinet with records stored neatly underneath it. Above the gramophone is a photo of Case, his brother and queen, in a golden frame to match the horn of the gramophone. Under your feet in front of the door is a little dark red doormat. It looks pretty old.

The left side of the room is full of sewing equipment. Everything is neatly laid out. There is a big table in the middle with an industrial grade sewing machine mounted to it. Near the table is one of those fancy expensive mannequins with a half finished project pinned up on it.

Against the wall just next to the door is a small desk with a big pin board hanging on the wall above. The pin board is covered in photos, patterns, little sketches of coats and corsets, a few buttons and gems on it too along with some scraps of fabric and post it notes.

On the desk there’s a notebook with a hand made pattern next to it, as well as a little cup holder with pens, pencils and chalk. Next to that is a tiny annoying dog shaped pin cushion and a little box filled with sewing needles and more pins. You can never have too many pins.

Sitting just under the desk is a little red stool on wheels.

Around the room, and under the big table there are boxes and containers. You can't see inside them. it must just be storage. On top of one of the containers is an older looking sewing machine and an over-locker.

The walls are lined with shelves filled with big rolls of all different types and colours of materials and fabrics.

At the far corner of the room there’s a set of drawers that matches the red-wood cabinet of the gramophone with golden handles and trimming. On top of the cabinet is a lamp and an empty wine glass.

Next to that cabinet is a big rack of clothes, That are all mostly the same colours that Case likes to wear, that being red and silvery shiny grey. Most of the clothes are corsets or have some kind of corset built into them.

The other side of the well lit room is mostly empty. This is when you notice the fact that the floor of this secret room is wooden. It’s a nice change from the cold tiled ground of the lab.

The only thing in this half of the room is a big dark red well loved comfy looking armchair with a little grey pillow sitting on it. In front of the armchair sits a matching ottoman. On the back wall of the room, near the armchair is a small window covered by some dark red curtains that match the red doormat.

Just next to the armchair is a wine rack filled with fancy bottles of fine wine. The top of the rack acts as a table and has a few wine glasses resting on it. The glasses look pretty fancy and expensive, one has a golden handle and a few others are made of clear crystal with ornate patterns and designs in them.

You overheard something about Case liking to dance. Perhaps this big open space is where he practices.

The only other thought that crosses your mind is why keep all of this hidden? (the answer to that is this as the only other room big enough that would fit the big sewing table and the armchair.)

You shouldn't enter rooms you weren't invited to~

Damn, you went in-depth about his stuff! But it's all rather fitting for him, very fancy. Nice work!

I really love the last bit because, yes x'D Case doesn't hide away his corsets, sewing machines, designs, gramophone and records. He's too proud of these things. Just cozy at home, away from the lab in Waterfalls and prying eyes.

Megalosomnia belongs to @megalommi~

#q and a #undertale au #wine!baggs #fs!megalosomnia #megalosomnia #tw: hypnosis #others' headcanons #wish art #long post

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floofysmallbob · 2 months

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ok yes I read the mha manga and I had to stop a fuck ton of times to screech about the sexualization of teenagers, and the costumes in general aren’t practical or protective, so I, like many others, decided to redesign the costumes(and the characters, but mainly the costumes), starting with Yaoyorozu Momo.

I’m working on anatomy, and this has helped, but im still not the best, so if the proportions aren’t super accurate, please give me any tips you have to make them more so! so, here’s my hero costume design for Everything Hero: Creati

MAIN COSTUME:

I originally had notes included but they looked really messy so here are the changes I made: -hair pulled into a bun -high impact sports bra for practicality

-unzips in the front and back

-low rise athletic shorts

-pockets

-cover up

-worn as a skirt when not needed for modesty

-zips up

-utility belt that i can’t draw very well

-contains snacks for her quirk as well as basic first aid and the like

-smart watch to access an online catalog

-replacement for the clunky ass books

-can also zip/unzip the clothing(idk they have some weird ass tech this isn’t a huge reach)

-boots without heels

-I’ve changed her character to be less skinny(she would maybe be skinny after excessive quirk use but not before) and I’ve given her more defined muscle

COVER UP VERSION:

COVER UP VERSION(SPORTS BRA UNDERNEATH):

COVER UP VERSION(UNZIPPED SPORTS BRA UNDERNEATH):

NO COVER UP:

COLD WEATHER:

-thicker material

-all of the black parts are unzippable

-mainly there for warmth when she’s not engaging in active combat

-I left the belt out but it’s still there

-lined boots(not visible but I’d like to think so)

COLD WEATHER(WITH CLOAK)

-cloak is there for warmth and occasionally stealth

HOT WEATHER VERSION:

-I always thought it was dumb they only have a regular and cold weather version so I added one for hot weather

-normal(not high collared) sports bra

-also sometimes worn for her regular costume

-shorter shorts

-shorter boots

-I don’t have multiple cover up versions for this one

it’s a rough ish sketch, but I think I did fairly decent, and it helped a bit with drawing full body poses. I’ve done a few others, but let me know who else you think needs a redesign the most so I know who to do next!

#momo yaoyorozu #mha yaoyorozu #bnha yaoyorozu #yaoyorozu momo #yaoyorozu momo redesign #mha redesign #mha redesigns #mha #mha fanart #bnha redesigns #bnha fanart #bnha redesign #stop sexualizing teens #horikoshi im looking at you you perverted fucker

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yaut-jaknowit · 2 years

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With Her Fingers

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x Reader (AFAB, gender neutral)

Word count: 3210

Warnings: size kink, praise kink, slapping, pain kink, tiny prey/predator kink, light bondage, little cum eating, light dom/sub. If there's any I missed, let me know!

Summary: You don't know what to name your relationship with Gawtin. You're close to her and believe she feels the same to you. It had been a decent day. What you considered fall to be was rolling through. The day wasn't too hot nor too cold for you. Yet, the planet was still too harsh to sit out in the sun for too long. You're chilling underneath a stray tree and watching Gawtin spar with a random male. Just seeing her easily demolish the male has heat flushing your cheeks. Then, she's gives you a look and you're done for. You run for it.

Author note: I had asked about writing smut and what you guys wanted. Someone wanted female/female so I whipped it up for them!

Ao3

Masterlist

Smut below the cut

Minors DNI leave, go away, come back another day

There was something about Gawtin that enticed you. She drew your attention away from the task at hand. You were supposed to be drawing her form as she sparred with another Yautja; a male by the looks of it. His smaller frame had a familiar bulkiness to Gawtin. He stood no chance against her due to this. Genetics weren’t in his corner at this point.

The way he struggled with this fight told you so. He was losing, quickly. One misstep almost got him down for the count. He stumbled back, luck on his side for just a moment. Gawtin swung her wooden stick and barely missed him by just hair. It left the bigger Yautja open for just enough time that the male was able to jab his own weapon into her stomach.

With the ends narrow and a great amount of force, Gawtin grunted and took a couple steps back, head slightly bowed. She whipped it up with a furious look in her eyes that made your legs squeeze together. Her tresses slapped harshly against her flesh as she stared him down. You didn’t need to see him to know there was fear in his eyes.

He knew that move was a bad idea after he preformed it. His mandibles pulled tightly. The female roared threateningly and dropped her staff before charging at him, arms splayed out. Her movements were swift, almost unnaturally fast in your eyes.

Gawtin rammed into him with all of her strength and knocked him straight to the ground. One thing smart about the male, he used the force to roll backwards. He was able to get back onto his feet with barely a beat missed.

That left Gawtin without a weapon to defend against the male. Not that she needed one. He swung it at her but she simply tore it out of his hands and snapped the wood in two. Holy fuck. That was hot.

Red dusted your cheeks as you realized your thoughts. Well, you’ve tested the waters with Gawtin on same-sex sex with her. There’s a reason why her middle, ring finger, and thumb on her right hand are dulled. She’s also learned how to eat you out without scratching with her teeth and mandibles.

When you get back to reality, you find Gawtin choking the male. His feet were held a good foot off the ground as he struggled to get her to release her hold. Not that she easily would. But what got you was her eyes were pinned to you. There was fire flickering in them. You read the look on her alien face, seeing her tongue softly poke out for a moment, and knew what that meant.

She knows. Oh, she knows.

You threw your sketch book to the side, pencil and erase with it, and began sprinting away. From all you’ve learning being around Yautja’s and their planet, there was nothing more exciting than the hunt. You had told Gawtin a little predator/prey could be something you enjoyed. Gawtin full heartily agreed with the biggest of smirks she could possibly make. That’s why you’re running away from her right now. You’ll be able to get to the tree line not far away, at the most. Her strides are long and powerful.

A screech behind you almost had you stumbles over your own feet. You were able to take a quick glance back at the sound and stopped yourself from laughing. Gawtin had thrown the male to side and came charging after you.

The sight of this bulky, well defined, green Yautja coming at you had you quickening your speed. Not that it helped much. This was a Yautja after all. Running away was impossible with the predicament you were in, her training you or not. That look on her face told you so.

Before you were ten feet from the tree line, a sturdy arm wrapped around your stomach. It pulled you flush with a warm frame. In return, you yelped and clawed at the limb instinctively. The frame began to rumble with a purr which helped you calm down. Gawtin turned you around and tossed your body over her shoulder then began a path towards her dwelling.

As she carried you, her tresses swaying caught your attention. You softly grabbed one and kissed it. Gawtin’s purring deepened, pace quickening.

Both of you passed the neighbors dwelling, Bziut-ty was outside, tending to her plants. She was babysitting Qui’oky for the two of you. When she saw Gawtin and you, one of her upper mandibles quirked up. “I guess I’ll be keeping little Oky with me tonight,” she teased. Your lips pressed tightly together as your eyes widened.

Claws dug into the flesh of your thighs. “Yes, I would appreciate that, Bee,” Gawtin thanked her, voice rougher than usual. A smirk graced your features before bringing the tresses back to your lips and licking it.

Her entire body tensed, talons possibly piercing your skin. She growled out your name in warning. Bziut-ty laughed whole heartily. Gawtin didn’t say anything else and marched straight into her dwelling and towards her room.

She sat down on the strange concave dent in the middle of the room called her bed. You were pulled from your potato sack position and deposited onto her lap. Gawtin forcing you to straddle her wide hips. A lower mandible brushed against your cheek as she stared down at you. On the other hand, you continued to hold her tress and gently stroked it.

“Do you consent?” she was straight to the point. Her hand petted the top of your head while staring into your eyes. A smile gracing your features.

“Yes, I do, love.” It wasn’t always a yes, especially during the mating season. Gawtin could easily overwhelm you and want far too much than you could dish out for her. But man, did you try and do your best. You do have to say, when she’s needy, she’s adorable. Don’t let her know that you ever said that though, she might suffocate you with her thighs. After she found out how much you loved her thick thighs, she’ll never let you live that down.

With a loud, short purr, Gawtin moved you the way she wanted. The Yautja placed your back against her chest, your legs hooked on the outer side of hers. All spread out for her. Gawtin doesn’t care about clothing, it’s simple to replace; plus, if you’re walking around naked… That’s something she wouldn’t mind at all.

Your clothes were torn away from your body and tossed somewhere in the room. A yelp escapes you when the soft clothe shirt was ripped off. You gave a normal reaction and attempted to cover up your chest at first. That wasn’t going to fly by Gawtin though. She snatched both of your wrists and pinned them being your head, elbows forced up.

“No hiding from me. I want see all of you,” Gawtin demanded, claws prickling against your skin. A heavy blush dusted your skin at her words. She pulled on her hold. “Keep your hands here. Move, there’ll be consequences.” You knew Gawtin kept to her word and listened to her with a nod. Today wasn’t a day you wanted to disobey her.

Gawtin purred again before using her claws and strength to fully undress you. Now, you were completely exposed to the powerful Yautja while she was still clothed.

A warm tongue licked at your neck, swiping away a drop of sweat. Your body tensed at the feeling before relaxing into her strong body. “Good,” she purred close to your ear. One of her hands roamed from your waist up to your exposed breasts, easily holding one in her palm. Something she quickly picked up on after the first time together.

Just the fact her hand could almost take up your entire chest made you squirm in her lap. Which, Gawtin was quick to fix with a stinging slap to the inside of your thigh. That made you howl and arch your back. She wouldn’t allow for you to escape from her hold unless you took back your consent. Then, she would stop everything and ensure you’re okay.

What she had did made your pussy fluttered emptily. A low moan pouring from your lips. “Please, Gawtin, I can’t sit still,” you begged. An action that was so not Yautja. Yet the sound of your pleading voice got her wild.

With the hand she had slapped you with, she cupped your sex, middle finger pressing between the slicking folds. Gawtin purred again and nuzzled her head against you. You mewled, hips canting forward. This added pleasure to the little things she was doing making you sigh high-pitched.

This time, Gawtin huffed and shook her head. The puff of air tickled the back of your neck. “Sit still, be good,” she urged.

At this point your arms were becoming tired. It went against her order, but you let them rest at your sides. The ends prickling. “I’m sorry, they were hurting,” you were quick to apologize for disobeying a previous order. It went to both of said orders.

“It’s alright, artful one,” she whickered and let her middle finger slowly rub through the slick starting to pool just at your cunt. It took all of your will not to move after Gawtin skimmed over your clit. “There you go. That’s good.” The praise settled well in your bones. You bowed your head and watched while Gawtin pleasured you. It couldn’t be helped, your cunt throbbing. You prayed she would end this teasing and fully embrace it.

All wishes don’t come true.

Gawtin pulled her lower hand away from your pussy and brought it up to her mouth. From your position, you couldn’t see what she was doing you already knew what was happening. You made a squeaking noise, eyes blown wide. She pinched one of your nipples at the sound, earning another yelp.

“I love the way you taste. Like those fruits from earth you had me try.” Your brain was slower to think up what she was talking about. A shy smile tugged at your lips at the reminder. When you were able to find peaches and have her try them, they were quickly loved by Gawtin.

Maybe, you’ll be able to find more soon. Before the mating season started.

Her hand returned to the slick between your legs. That same finger slowly petting your clit and wetting entrance that she was loving on. The other hand switched to the other breast, pinching a nipple between her sharp fingers. You mewled, legs threatening to close. Gawtin was quick to use her own to keep yours open wide. “Don’t tease me,” you begged, head thrown back against her chest. She let her hand roam up to your exposed throat.

Not an ounce of fear entered your body at this. Her talons were dragged across your skin, drawing goosebumps to appear. Gawtin didn’t verbally respond to your pleads. Instead, the Yautja let her middle finger to push into your cunt. Your back arched while you moaned. Her fingers were much thicker than yours. One of hers was almost the same width as two of yours. You could easily feel her finger slowly push into you.

A claw ran down your cheek bone and rested on your bottom lip. Your tongue tested the waters and licked up the sharp talon. Gawtin purred content behind you then forced her thumb into your mouth. Immediately, you began to suck and run your tongue along the finger.

All the while, Gawtin pulled her middle finger out only thrust it back in. The pad of her finger rubbed against your g-spot, further increasing the pleasure. She started up a decent pace. Your thighs trembled and wanted to pin her hand between them. But Gawtin’s thighs were far too strong for you. You were forced to take what she gave to you, even if you were greedy for more.

The female leaned her head over your shoulder. A couple of tresses spilling over with the movement. An idea slowly appeared in your mind. Your hand wrapped around one of her close tresses and rubbed your thumb against it. Her body quickly tensed, fingers thrusting deeper than expected. You moaned high pitched, toes curling. Your other hand clawed at her thigh, not leaving a single mark.

You felt heavy, hot breaths rolled over your naked shoulder and torso. There was a soft growl right next to your ear. The hand on your throat quickly wrapped around yours on her sensitive, rubbery, tubal dread. All you wished to do was return a little pleasure that she was giving you. Most days with her, you were the receiver, taking what she gave. Yet, you’ll try once in a while to return the favor as you the bottom. But the fierce Yautja wouldn’t allow for that.

She forced you to let go of her dread then reached over with that hand to the low nightstand. It rested at the edge of the alien bed you two were in. The lower drawer was pulled open, you knew what was inside of. “I-I don’t think that’s ne-necessary, love,” you stuttered and watched as she pulled out a silk-like fabric. It was longer than wide, perfect for what you knew she was about to do with it.

There had to be a smirk on her alien face that you couldn’t see. Gawtin pulled her fingers from your cunt. You whimper, hips canting forward.

A stinging slap met your inner thigh and caused your toes to curl. You yelped and jerked in her lap. Gawtin used the distraction to bend you over and grab both of your hands. “Wait, I’ll be good! I won’t touch,” you pleaded with the female but the words flew over her head. You already knew she wasn’t going to listen and proved you would disobey. That you have, more than once.

The silk-like fabric was one of the softest textures to touch your skin; you’ve never felt something like it before. It was used to tie your wrists together, one crossed over the other. Every time she touched you with hand of three dulled claws, you could feel your slick wiped onto your skin. Gawtin ended it by pressing her mandibles against your shoulder in a mock kiss. “Now, you won’t touch.” You decided to pull against the knots to test if she had done them correctly. There’s never been a chance that she hasn’t done so before. It didn’t hurt to try nevertheless.

Gawtin returned everything back into your previous position besides where your hands were. When she entered your pussy again, she let another finger slip in. Your toes curled again as you leaned heavily onto her chest. The furs underneath your feet soft against your skin. Then, she used her thumb to gently play with your clit. Her other hand leisurely teasing one of your nipples.

Your hands could only claw at her stomach. A curse flew from your lips, legs beginning to tremble more noticeable now. But, Gawtin didn’t quicken or slow her pace; something she learned from your first few times together.

Dark, dark green dreads dragged over your shoulder. “I love the way you look with my fingers inside of you.” Your eyes widened, pussy throbbing around her thrusting fingers. Gawtin pressed her mandibles against your shoulder once more before opening them as wide as possible. The dull pink tongue slithered over the soft tissue of your shoulder. She carefully latched onto the meat there without piercing your skin.

It wasn’t the pain that helped you. No, it was the implication of how dangerous she is to you. Gawtin could easily kill you with a simple swipe of her claws. Instead, she was pleasuring with them.

Your moans gained pitch. Your body tensing, muscles growing rigid under her administrations. Her name was finally screamed to the heavens. You wanted to curl in on yourself but Gawtin wouldn’t let that happen. She wrapped an arm around your chest and held you to hers. Her entire torso vibrated as you came around her fingers. Your cunt throbbing and soaking her fingers and hand.

When your body eased on the twitching, Gawtin removed her fingers and brought them up to your mouth. Immediately, you opened your lips. Her digits slid inside and rested on your tongue. The sweet, yet tangy taste of your cum assaulted you. It caused you to hum around them, eyes drifting close. Your tongue licking it away.

It wasn’t the best taste in the universe, to be honest. Yet, when Gawtin forced you such on her digits covered in your cum… You wouldn’t turn down that offer.

Gawtin purred loudly then removed them from your mouth. Then, she rotated your body to face her. Both of your shins rested against the soft pelts that covered the bed. You were straddling her and look up at her alien face.

Both arms are still tied behind you; they probably be that way for awhile. So, you did your best to show your love to her. Your lips connected to the softer patch of skin between her mandibles; a place you could think her nose would be if she had one.

A dry hand cradled the back of your head. Her blazing purple eyes burned into yours. You had pulled only a couple of inches away from her. Gawtin nuzzled her eyebrow against your temple, eyes softly closing.

There was a settling, content tiredness beginning to sit in your bones. You tugged against your bonds, desperate to touch her, wrap your arms around her bulky frame. Gawtin sees the wanting in your eyes after she pulled away. Then, the Yautja decided to pull one side of the loose ends of the fabric. It loosened. Your arms immediately wrapped around her neck. One wrist was still bound with it.

“That was amazing. Thank you,” you said with a gentle tone. Your hips humped forward against her red shorts. The slick that coated your labia was whipped onto her clothing. It couldn’t be helped, there was a smirk on your face. You completely knew what you were doing.

That look in Gawtin’s eye told you she already knew.

She laughed, mandibles clicking together then reached over to the nightstand again. The bottom drawer opened once more. A wooden box was pulled out. “I finally get to use the new toy I bought a couple of weeks ago.” Your mouth dropped as a blush covered your face. Gawtin chittered with laughter and gave you a look.

Uh oh.

#female predator #female yautja #yautja #yautja smut #Yautja Prime #predator #predator smut #Gawtin #yautja x reader #predator x reader #yautja x you #predator x human #predator x you

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lamaery · 1 year

Text

some enlightened mistspren…

We didn’t yet get a description for how these two look in The Cognitive Realm, so I like to hypothesize. The depictions but rspixart on their coppersmiths page certainly have been some inspiration (like Glys‘ red crystal mask), but I enjoyed creating my own tweak for them. Also Renarin does need a puffy vest... Or at least a warm vest. He does look a bit cold in those listener clothes. Give that man some stormlight!

--------------------------------------------- [Image description: 1) portait of Glys, showing his misty, lanky physique in full colour in front of a green background and wrapped in a quilted vest with strings of large, interlocking hexagons of a darker colour on a lighter ground and a green collar and trimmings. His grey pants are padded but in a pattern of long strips and come down to under his knees. There are several small pouches on his belt. His overly long arms are covered in long gloves that go over his elbows and shift in colour from a muddy green on the hands to a bright red further up. His face is a mask of porcelain with a thick layers of red crystal on top, the original white colour only still visible around his chin an mouth but then smoothly shifting to the deep red. He has big glowing eyes and the misty parts of his body glow where the lights hits them directly. There his a thick hazy line of red in the midst of his torso, neck and limbs. Whisps of mist fan out behind his facemask, like hair strands caught in the wind. His expression is attentive and slightly tense. The right fingers are posed like his is about to snap them. 2) Portrait of Tumi. They are wearing a warm brown tunic and pants of a slightly cooler shade. Their body is broad-sholdered with a small head and small hands in dark red gloves. The orange-red crytals on the white porcelain mask are small and scattered along the rim of his, dappling part of the forehead and the cheeks more akin to freckles. There is an almost rosy glow to the misty body peaking out from where it is hidden beneath the clothes. 3) six versions of Glys standing with his head slightly crooked as if curious about something. His face is a mask with crystals sprouting from his forehead. His misty figure is lean with overly long legs and arms. His attire each time a combination of a short cape or vest leaving his midriff bare and knee length breeches with narrow stripes, a check pattern or one leg another colour. His long arms are covered in gloves that stop short under or go over his elbows. On his feet he wears different kind of sandals 4 and 5) sketches for the Glys' and Tumi's portraits. more simple line drawings. In this first draw Glys wears a short cape instead of the patterned vest.

6) four full body drawings of Renarin in different outfits. One monochrome one on the left shows him with Glys' padded vest with the hexagonal pattern and the high collar. He is wearing his uniform shirt, trousers and boots underneath. His sleeves are rolled up and his hand in his trouser pockets. The other three to the right are in colour and his is wearing differing listener attire. The first includes an open striped vest over a bare chest and a grey, blue wrap with a colourful cord as a belt. The next one is a short cape with a rhythmic pattern, bunched up and bound with a thin cord at one shoulder. It is short enough to show his midrift. underneath he wears grey wrap trousers. The last one has an orange shawl wrapping over one shoulder and his hip held in place by several cords with the same pattern he has earlier. His beige trouser are more an alethi style and close in tight with buttons under his knees. he wears sandal on his feet in this one. (in the other two drawings his feet are bare). also he has the beginnings of a beard in the last one making him look older.]

#rhythm of war #stormlight spoilers #row spoilers #stormlight archive #character illustration #character art #character design #mistspren #brandon sanderson #cosmere #procreate #roshar fashion #tumi #glys #described

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jgvfhl · 1 year

Text

The Number Lad Is A Menace

And of course by Thee Number Lad, I mean my darling Sevenset :) This is one more chapter of silliness for everyone to enjoy! I'll be honest, the next chapter might come a little later than April 1st because of my chock-a-block full schedule right now, but it will happen in April!!! We gotta start the next arc!!! I'm so excited!! Thank you to everyone who's been reading these chapters, I really appreciate it.

Words: ~4100 Warnings: None Link to the Masterlist of Chapters Link to the story on Ao3 if that's easier for folks (it's still 1 chapter behind, but it'll be up to date by the next installment)

Sevenset looked up from his little sketchbook, finally noticing the bunks around him in the temporary barracks on Rancor’s Venator cruiser were filling up. He checked the time on his vambrace.

Huh.

Okay, well, he hadn’t meant to spend almost two hours designing his next tattoo, but these things happened. He added the last few lines and snapped the book shut around his pencil, wrapping the elastic band around the book and tucking it under his pillow.

Upon attempting to stand, his body informed him he had been sitting in a horrible position for almost two hours, and standing so quickly was not possible right now.

“Ow,” he muttered, stretching his legs out and leaning down to touch the toes of his boots.

“Yeah, it looked like you were doing your best impression of an ithorian down there.”

Sevenset looked up, finding his squadmate Buster lying in his bunk, prepped for sleep cycle, which was due to start for them in a few minutes.

“Was it any good?” he asked, finally standing up slowly to stretch his back.

Buster frowned. “Dunno, you don’t quite have the face for it.”

A lump in the bunk underneath Buster grumbled. “Would you shut up ‘n sleep?”

Buster smiled, leaning over the side to look down. His field partner Sketch valued his sleep like a dragon did its hoard, and right now, only the man’s mohawk and little strips of the pink-dyed buzzed hair either side were visible over the edge of the blanket pulled up over his face.

“Sorry, Sketch,” Sevenset said, a little quieter. “I’ll leave you to your beauty rest.”

Sketch grumbled again and Buster gave a small smile before settling back on his mattress. “Have fun on the night shift,” he said.

“Oh, I always do,” Sevenset replied, finding his kit and putting it on. He wasn’t being sarcastic, for once. He really did enjoy the night shift. He’d always been a bit… off as far as circadian rhythm (his squad on Kamino had hated it), so it made perfect sense to him to take the later shifts while he was at his best, and rest when the weirdo “morning people” were up and functional.

He was by the door when Buster called his name–quietly still, so he didn’t wake anyone.

“What?”

Buster held up a datapad. “I forgot to drop this off with the commanders,” he said, handing it down to him. “Do you think you can do that?”

Sevenset considered it. “Well, as long as I know which room I’m going to, shouldn’t be a problem.”

The other ARC rubbed his head, squinting in efforts to recall. “I think Colt is in one-eighteen C? It’s near the bridge, one level up from us.”

He stared at Buster, knowing very well he had no idea the gift he had just given him. He nodded solemnly. “Consider it done, vod,” he said as seriously as he could muster, adding a sharp salute as well.

Buster just rolled his eyes and lay down, shuffling his blanket around as he got comfortable. “Maker help us, you’re somethin’ else, Sevens,” he smiled.

Sevenset grinned back, turning off the lights as he left the room and headed to the briefing room for his shift assignments. Nothing too dramatic, considering they were hurtling through hyperspace, and the truly important people—the engineers, the navigators, the bridge officers—were all taking shifts as well, keeping them on track towards Kamino. But, his light duties did mean he had plenty of time to get them done in a timely fashion, then go see about room 118C and hope its occupant was out of the room…

As was often the case, Sevenset was given inspection duties. He had notable attention to detail and a quick eye for making sure everything was ship-shape in no time, so the COs had no issues handing it off to him time and time again, and he had no issues completing it time and time again. Tonight, it was weapons lock-up with Tracer, one of many ARF troopers that had accompanied this most recent mission.

It was good to have company, given the sheer number of weapons on the cruiser. They divided the work between them and went to it. There was something incredibly satisfying about checking all the boxes off as he went down the racks of blasters and ammunition lining the room. He was done before he’d even had time to properly enjoy the mindlessness of it all.

Tracer glanced over at him when he’d been standing still for too long. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s accounted for.”

Tracer blinked. He was almost done, maybe a few racks away from completion. “You’re done?”

“Yeah, I like this kinda gig,” he explained as simply as he could. “Figure it’s why I keep getting the same assignments,” he added with a grin. “Listen, I gotta go drop something with Commander Colt, do you mind if I head out?”

Tracer shook his head. “Nah, go for it.”

So he did. He dropped off the datapad with the inventory with one of the lieutenants, then made his way to a lift and went up the level and towards the bridge in hopes of finding his commander’s room empty and unguarded.

Hopefully.

Force, if he managed to pull this off… He grinned to himself wickedly.

Would it undoubtedly result in disciplinary actions? Yes.

Would pranking Colt be worth it?

Oh hells yeah.

He found room 118C right where Buster had told him. Now, it was normal for a commander’s door to be locked or otherwise secured from the outside, and Sevenset respected this and knew why it was the case. It hadn’t stopped him from creating a device capable of slicing a simple door panel as a one-time-only deal in case of emergency urges to start some shit.

Colt might kill him.

It was a worthy sacrifice.

He knocked on the door and waited, listening intently for a response. Just to be sure, he knocked again, louder, throwing glances down the corridor in either direction to take stock of how many people were around. Not many. When no one answered the door the second time, he tried pushing the button to open it, on the off chance the door was unlocked. It wasn’t.

Time for plan B.

He reached into one of the compartments in his utility belt and found a small electronic device which he stuck to the door control panel. He did his best to be quick, not wanting to attract undue attention while messing with the commander’s door. He pressed the device’s singular button and knocked a third time, waiting for the device to do its work.

In a few seconds, the door slid open, and he snatched the device from the panel and stepped inside.

This ship wasn’t often used, so most of the living and sleeping quarters onboard were sparsely decorated if at all. Troopers were much more likely to leave anything of real sentimental value on Kamino; it was considerably safer. Commander Colt was no exception, and might have had even less stuff in his room than some of his subordinates.

Sevenset set the datapad from Buster down on the desk. He wasn’t a complete asshole: he wasn’t going to get Buster in trouble by making his report hard to find. Surveying the desk, he found a couple stacks of similar datapads, a few crumpled pieces of flimsi, a few loose pencils and styluses, and a mug of stone-cold caff from the mess. Hm…

Looking over to the bed in the same room, he saw it was impeccably made to regulation, the corners tucked in just so, the blanket pulled up and over the pillow. Oh, now that was an idea….

Without waiting to think (because the commander could be back any second), he went to the bed and picked up the entire mattress, awkwardly maneuvering it until he could put it back down 180 degrees from its original position. He tucked the blanket and sheet back in, making the bed up fit to make any CO proud.

Any CO but Colt, actually.

Next, he went to the desk, knowing it would be bad on a few levels to rearrange the datapads and paper on the desk, so he settled for moving the entire piece of furniture two or three inches farther away from the wall. It was a little tricky, because the desk had to be secured to the floor for safety’s sake. But, it was easy enough to unhitch it and slide it down the tracks in the floor a little bit, then fasten it back down. He pushed the chair to the same relative position he’d found it in, and then quickly rearranged the writing utensils and the mug on the desk, leaving the datapads and filmsi untouched.

Stepping back, he took in his handiwork, his mind whirring as he sought out anything else he might be able to do in the precious few seconds he was allowing himself.

His eye fell on the doorway leading to the refresher. Lucky bastards with their own showers, commanders. Well…. He hurried over, his eyes flicking around the room in a heartbeat until they landed on the bar of soap in the shower, and the mirror over the sink.

Perfect.

-scene break-

Sevenset was still buzzing with happy anticipation as he grabbed his “midnight meal” from the mess and found a table to sit down. The night shift was light, as usual, and truthfully, among those present, he wasn’t sure how many would really appreciate his company. He was an acquired taste. So, he found a table along one wall and sat there people-watching while he ate, his eyes always drifting back to the doors, waiting for the inevitable storm his latest prank would bring down.

He finished his meal in peace, dropping the tray and utensils off to be cleaned before heading out again. Until his shift was officially over, he didn’t have much to do except to stay awake and make sure the others not on shift got their rest. Maybe he’d go find a viewport and draw…. Changing trajectory, he started off down the hall back to his barracks room to get his sketchbook and pencils, already planning to take his clunkiest armor pieces off outside the room so he wouldn’t make too much noise. Stealth training could only do so much with all this plastoid clattering around. No one else seemed to notice how loud it was, though. Maybe it was just in his head.

When he turned the corner into the corridor with his room in it, he just as quickly slammed his body back around the corner out of sight upon seeing Commander Colt at his barracks door.

He heard the door slide open, and stuck his head around the corner to see Colt march into the room, switch the lights on, and yell, “Buster! Get up! On your feet, double time, trooper, let’s go!”

Sevenset winced slightly. The commander wouldn’t have known Buster had told him to deliver his report. In reality, he would have walked in, seen the upset, seen a report that had not been there before the upset, and would have immediately sought out the author of said report.

So much for not getting him in trouble.

He crept around the corner and quickly and quietly made his way down the hall until he was just outside the room. He could hear grumbling and creaking bunks from inside, as well as Colt demanding Buster’s explanation as to why his room had been tampered with around the same time his report had appeared on his desk.

Buster, Maker bless him, was not a morning person, and was having considerable difficulty processing the situation.

“I didn’ do anything, sir! I did the report, it’s there–”

“The report is not the karking problem, ARC!”

Plastering an easy smile on his face, he slipped into the room as quietly as he could. Buster was standing at rigid attention looking completely baffled at the commander, who was standing with his fists on his hips, looming over him. Other disgruntled faces poked out from blankets in the other bunks. Sketch looked positively murderous.

“The problem is in fact everything other than the report!” the commander went on, his attention undivided.

Sevenset saw his sketchbook sticking out from under his pillow just to Buster’s left, so he feigned innocent ignorance and went to step around the commander, watching his arms in case his tirade grew more animated all of a sudden.

“You had the audacity–the utter stupidity–to think that was funny–” Commander Colt froze, his helmet turning slowly as he registered Sevenset’s sudden presence at his right shoulder.

“Evening, Commander,” Sevenset chirped, giving a small salute. “Just here for my sketchbook.” He crept closer to it. “Oh, Buster,” he added, “I got that report on his desk just like you asked, don’t worry about it.”

Buster’s rigid stance relaxed out of pure shock for an instant, before jolting back when the commander opened his mouth.

“You.” His hand shot out and grabbed the collar of Sevenset's chestplate. “You did this?”

“Uh… I have been known to do a lot of things, sir,” Sevenset replied. “Some specificity would be greatly appreci–”

“Did you rearrange my kriffing room, Sevenset?” the commander growled, pulling him even closer.

Sevenset made a great show of scrunching his face up as he seemed to think about his answer. “Eh… I’m not sure what I did truly constitutes rearranging, sir. Maybe a little redecoration, a little–auck!”

His response was cut off by the commander turning and dragging him bodily out of the room. He managed to hit the lights on the way out, apologizing to his squadmates as best as he could with the commander’s knuckles pressing into his throat.

When they were outside and half-way down the hall, Commander Colt finally released him. Sevenset had just reached up to adjust his armor back to where it sat most comfortably when he found the commander’s gloved hands grabbing either side of his face.

“What the ever-loving kriff is wrong with you?”

“That’s a loaded question, sir,” he grinned, a little thrown by the odd method of restraint. “You didn’t appreciate the little affirmation I left you?”

The commander’s helmet tilted to one side. “You wrote, ‘Hey there, handsome,’ on the mirror with my bar of soap.”

“It’s always good to start your day with a compliment, sir!”

Commander Colt let go of his face, then flicked his nose, and he yelped.

“Laps,” he said. “Five of them. Now.”

Five wasn’t so bad. He’d be done in no time. He saluted sharply. “Can do, sir!”

As he started to jog down the corridor, he heard the commander call, “This is supposed to be a punishment! Don’t look so kriffing happy about it!”

-scene break-

Rancor Battalion was back on Kamino in another rotation or so, most of the troopers returning immediately to the barracks or to requisition replacement gear for the damage suffered on the mission. Standard practice, at this point. Sevenset was used to the routine, and he liked that it never changed too much, a bit like the Guard back on Coruscant. He went with his squad back to their barracks to put his things away, give Beskar a pat on the dome for taking care of their space in their absence, and maybe grab a snack. Everyone else was settling in for the night, hoping to readjust their internal clocks as fast as possible, and Sevenset reasoned he could do the same, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

He’d told Do-si-do he’d have to host the Numbers meeting this time around, because he’d had no idea if he would have been back in time, and he hadn’t been. Not quite. He could still catch the tail-end of the meeting, if he was lucky. He got to his usual hidey-hole in a rarely-used conference room and lit up the holotable, tuning it to the correct frequency with barely a thought.

Various holograms appeared at once as he connected to the transmission. It appeared the 212th and the Wolfies were on duty, because the meeting was missing Nines and Loops, but everyone else was there, including the commander.

“Sevenset!” Do-si-do beamed. “Dude, you’re just in time. Elevens was gonna tell us about Commander Thire messing with the Chancellor!”

Oh well, this he had to hear. “I am all ears, little bro,” he grinned, leaning on the table in front of him.

Elevensies smiled back. “Okay, so, I heard this from one of my squadmates, who heard it from Captain Iode when he was talking to Commander Stone,” he began. “So it might not be quite what happened.”

“Does it seem like we’ll care if it’s true?” Fives asked. He and Echo were smushed together at one end of a bunk, presumably so Echo could rest his leg on the mattress. “We just care if it’s funny.”

“Okay, yeah.” Elevensies went on. “So, Commander Thire was leading the Chancellor’s escort this morning–like his security detail, right?”

Sevenset nodded, remembering serving exactly one day on that detail before Fox promptly moved him elsewhere. He never did find out if that was because the Chancellor had asked, or if Fox had gotten pissed off…

“So, it’s a lot of standing still while people talk to the Chancellor, and following him around the Senate building and his office–not very exciting.”

He vividly remembered that.

“Commander Thire was standing right next to the Chancellor at some point,” Elevensies continued. “I dunno, maybe the hallway was small, but that doesn’t matter. What matters,” he said with a grin, “is the Chancellor’s robe had a thread loose on the hem.”

Sevenset’s mouth dropped open. “He didn’t.”

Commander Sixes shook his head, rubbing his face. “He absolutely did.”

“He totally did!” Elevensies laughed, throwing his hands up and leaning back against the wall behind him. “He stepped on the thread and unraveled the Chancellor’s robe half-way to his knees!”

Sevenset and most of the others there joined him in cackling at the mental image of the ever-cool and collected Chancellor Palpatine suddenly finding himself bare-legged from the calves down. Oh, he would have paid to have been on that escort. Actual credits. The man probably hadn’t even blinked! He probably had just been politely shocked and been swept off to a room to wait for a new robe to be delivered, but holy Force, that was hilarious.

When the group had largely collected themselves again, wiping damp eyes and suppressing the remaining giggles, Do-si-do raised a hand. “So what kind of shoes does the Chancellor wear?”

That set Sevenset off again–Maker only knew why. “Why do you wanna know?” he asked through the new fit of laughter.

“So I can judge him!” his friend shot back. “Please tell me he wears old person shoes.”

Elevensies was giggling again too, and he shook his head and shrugged. “I dunno, I didn’t hear that part.”

“What if he wears sandals?” Fives asked. “Like sandals with socks?”

Do-si-do snorted, slumping further in his pilot’s seat. “No! No one should do that! I will call the fashion police!”

“No, no, no,” Sevenset cut in, “hear him out. I think he’s onto something.”

“No!”

Echo smirked. “What if he wears sandals without socks and just had his wrinkly old toes sticking out for everyone to see?”

A chorus of groans erupted after that remark, Sevenset not hesitating to join them. No one needed that image haunting their nightmares. Not even Fox!

“What if it’s boots?” Trees hazarded.

Sevenset might have been more tired than he’d originally thought, but it was okay, because Do-si-do was apparently right there with him on a lack of verbal filter and a severe lack of situational awareness.

“Like stripper boots?” they both said in unison.

While everyone else (except the commander) started wheezing with laughter again, Trees just stared at them like they were the most concerning specimens he’d seen to date. Sevenset caught Do-si-do’s eye, and they both lost it again, laughing until tears came and Sevenset found it difficult to stand upright.

“No, not like stripper boots!” Trees replied indignantly once the noise had died down a little. “That was kriffing creepy, you two!”

It only made them laugh harder, and Sevenset found he could no longer keep himself upright. Finally, he managed to pull himself back up and steady himself against the table, wiping tears from his face and feeling his face start to ache from smiling. This group had been his best idea ever. Where else was he going to get a debate about the Chancellor’s footwear? With a commander in the room not stopping them? It was a miracle.

Speaking of…. “Hey, Commander,” he said, his voice a little raw from laughing.

“What?”

“How–how is it,” he said around a hiccup of laughter, “we’re all dying, and you haven’t broken a sweat, sir? You gotta admit, the Chancellor in stripper boots is funny.”

“Try harder next time,” the commander replied, with a faint but distinct upward curve to his mouth.

Oh it was like that, was it?

“Alright I will,” he said, pointing at the hologram. “I will find something to crack that prickly ol’ shell you’ve set up, mark my words.”

“I’m shaking in my boots.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Should I start a tally?” Zero offered. “Keep track of what he doesn’t laugh at, see if we can narrow it down?”

“Absolutely, Zero,” he said. “We’re gonna science the kark outta this.”

The commander raised an eyebrow at them, one of his scars buckling on his forehead. “You’ll fail.”

“Why?” Sevenset challenged. Was the commander worried they’d actually find something? Was he truly that confident they wouldn’t?

Before he got an answer, someone else appeared behind Commander Sixes.

Zero waved. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, Zero,” Commander Nero said like nothing had happened. That would be a fun joke for Colt…

“Something wrong?” Commander Sixes asked, looking up at him.

The other commander knelt down next to his chair, placing a datapad on the surface out of frame. “Yeah, nothing big. Got the new recon intel, we might have to shimmy up the positions a bit for the first assault.”

“Wait, really?” Zero asked, and was ignored.

“Okay.” The commander blinked at him.

Commander Nero stared back, completely serious. “I’d suggest banana.”

Sevenset looked around, glancing over the other faces present. Most of the other Numbers wore similar expressions of vague confusion, with the odd flicker of mirth because who the hell called battle strategies banana?

But then he saw it. It was faint, but he saw Commander Sixes’ mustache twitch like he was trying to fight back a smile. The muscles in his neck flexed almost imperceptibly. Commander Nero remained stony, staring him down, like he was daring him to break.

That couldn’t be it… Commander Death’s weakness couldn’t be…

After what felt like an eon of strained silence, Commander Sixes spoke. “You little bastard.” His voice cracked on the last word, an unmistakable grin fighting its way onto his face as he tried to hold himself together.

“You don’t wanna use banana?” Commander Nero said innocently, his eyes flicking towards the holoprojector beside them.

The dam broke. Commander Sixes leaned his elbow on the desk beside him, putting his face in his hand, his shoulders shaking as he laughed. It was quiet and rough, like the rest of his personality, but no one could deny that was laughter.

“Oh, Maker help you,” he breathed, looking to the other commander, who was grinning like a loth cat who’d found the fish. Sevenset found himself riveted to the hologram in front of him, drinking in the biggest smile he’d ever seen on the commander’s face since he’d met the man.

“Help me?” Commander Nero said.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’m gonna get a banana and shove it so far down your throat, you’ll be seeing yellow for weeks.” The threat lost a bit of an edge due to the huge grin still stuck on Commander Sixes’ face and the repressed bursts of laughter that had almost cut him off, and the fact that the other commander burst out laughing as soon as he said it, disappearing from view as he collapsed to the floor. “Karking hell,” Commander Sixes muttered, reaching over and turning off his holoprojector, disappearing from the meeting.

There was silence for a moment, even from Zero.

Finally, after a generous moment to process what they had all witnessed, Sevenset addressed the main point.

“Banana jokes?” he said, putting his hands on his hips in mock severity. “That’s all it would have taken? Bananas?”

“Well, they are very a-peel-ing to some people,” Echo replied without hesitation.

Fives shoved him off the bunk gracelessly.

Ta-da!! Sevenset being a menace! I hope you enjoyed! @23-bears @theultimatesandwich @mercurydancer @rndmpeep @beskarmermaid @persimminwrites @darth-void @soclonely

#number lads #numbers gang #clone trooper ocs #star wars ocs #arc trooper sevenset #commander colt #rancor battalion #commander sixes #commander nero #tcw fanfic #the clone wars #star wars fanfic #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #i write things sometimes

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art-by-milo-catz · 2 years

Text

Saw ppl making their own Golden Guard oc's, so here's mine!

[ID: digital art of a Golden Guard character named Edmond. He looks similar to Hunter, except he has sideburns, long blond hair with light brown streaks, and a chipped tooth instead of a tooth gap. Instead of a scar on the cheek Edmond has a scar over his missing left eye and a scar on his right palm.

On the right side of the image is a halfbody of Edmond in casual wear, with a short sleeved shirt in various shades of yellow and purple, a dark purple undershirt, purple belt, and a bandage covering his left arm. On the left side is a fullbody of him in his Golden Guard armor, which is similar to Hunter's but with a few extra embellishments to the hems of the tunic and collar, and the cape has markings on the shoulders similar to Belos's cape, plus the underside is purple instead of gold. He's also holding a staff similar to Hunter's.

The image has a light, unsaturated purple background with a faint yellow border. Next to the halfbody is a text bubble with a question mark in it, and underneath the halfbody is Edmond's name written in cursive with double underlines. /End ID.]

WELLL here is my guy! He's 23 and all-around nice, only uses violence as a last resort. Still working out the finer points as far as characterization and timeline details, but I lov em so far!

WIP sketch + more art under the cut

[ID: Image 1: pencil sketch version of the previous image, done on lined paper. Images 2-4: various pencil sketches on lined paper of Edmond blushing; a halfbody of him facing left with one arm raised in front of him, a bust that's also facing left, and a halfbody of him facing right while a girl witch with horns and curly hair hugs him from behind. Image 1 is tinted yellow while images 2 and 3 are tinted pink. /End ID.]

I decided he is very blushy o///o bc why not. Also don't think I will do a whole lot as far as making a full-on au storyline bUT I do already have an idea for a small comic planned out 👀 if you've read this far then congrats! Here is a small teaser thumbnail sketch for that comic:

[ID: pencil sketch on lined paper. There's two halfbodies of Edmond looking nervous, the first one looking to the left at his hair and the second one looking upwards with a weak smile. Under the first is text that reads, "Cut my hair..? B-but I like my hair..." Under the second image is text that has been scribbled out to avoid spoilers. /End ID.]

Thx for reading ;3

#artists on tumblr #digital art #traditional art #described #oc #the owl house #toh #toh oc #the golden guard #golden guard oc #oouugghhhhhh i lov him a lot actually zjhckshkshfjkshfksk look at him!! friend shaped #also uses he/they but idk how to fit that into the post smoothly fhhfkdjk #now i've been typing a good while and still don't know how to end a post sooooooo bye ig!! have a great day 💜

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pigeonpoem · 2 years

Photo

untitled, risograph print, 11x14", 2022

i was suddenly overcome with the urge to make a print of king gizzard and the lizard wizard's instruments and equipment even though i don't know very much about that kind of thing. i had to look at so many photos for reference and i'm sure i accidentally downloaded multiple copies of a few

this was originally supposed to be a two layer linocut in these same colors but after getting the sketch layers printed at staples i realized there was no way i could carve all these little details in 9x12" And have them line up so i went back and turned them into a riso print instead. it was very fun, i missed doing riso

alt text under the cut because tumblr wouldn’t let me post this with the text in the image:

[start ID: image one: a risograph print, printed in sunflower yellow and blue with overlaps in a tealish green depicting an imagined corner of a music studio space for king gizzard and the lizard wizard. there is a table with a keyboard and a wire on it. underneath the table are two closed bins, a drum with a harmonica on it, and a crate full of tangled wires and cords. to the left of the table is a chair with a tambourine on it and the microtonal guitars dickhead and the flying microtonal banana leaned against the chair. to the right of the table is a microphone stand with a cord wrapped around it, the microtonal 5-string bass leaning against a metal storage box and an amp, and a surge protector power strip with various cables plugged into it. towards the bottom of the image, on a rug, are the blue boy guitar, a pedal board with various pedals and other things this artist doesn't know enough about to name, a harmonica, and many cords including a curly cord all over the floor and rug. on the floor but not on the rug is a pair of drumsticks sitting neatly next to each other and more wires. there are five picks, three gizzard gator heads, and a shrimp hidden in the image. the print is on a white board, being held in place by plain white circular magnets.

image two: the same print as before, now on a white desk, in a eco compostable clear bag for prints on top of a rigid mailer. there is a sharpie on the desk, below the print in this photo.

image three: a detail shot of the print, depicting the chair with the tambourine, dickhead, the flying microtonal banana, and a corner of the table with a closed bin and the crate of wires.

image four: a detail shot of the print, depicting the drum with the harmonica on it, a closed bin, the microtonal 5-string bass leaning against the metal storage box and an amp, the microphone stand, and the surge protector power strip. the rug is also visible.

image five: a detail shot of the print, depicting the blue boy guitar, the pedal board, and some wires on the rug.

image six: a detail shot of the print, depicting the table with the keyboard and wire, the crate of wires, the drum with the harmonica on it, and the closed bin, all underneath the table. the microphone stand and the rug are also visible.

end ID]

#king gizzard and the lizard wizard #flying microtonal banana #dickhead #blue boy #riso print #risograph #printmaking #my art #artists on tumblr #artists of color #this print is available on my etsy pigeonpoemart

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Text

a place for the weary

Convincing the boys to take a break and rest their head on your lap, because they all work so hard and need a comfortable place to just ... be - plus … some of them just need love and affection (please)

Includes: Albedo, Diluc, Scaramouche, Kaeya

Warning -> SFW

Character X GN reader

Albedo

He’s busy, always busy - whether he’s working on some research in the labs or out in the field, he’s hardly ever taking a moment to stop. What he finds most relaxing is drawing, painting the scenery in front of him until he gets it all perfect, and while you love to watch how his face twists, his eyes scrunch together as he examines the lines on the page, you also wish he would take a moment to do nothing

If you suggest the activity to him, he may wonder what could be the purpose of it; he might ask you a lot of questions as he leans down to rest his head on your lap

“Albedo,” you call out to him as you watch him shuffle through the crates examining the bottles and other items sprawled in the container. He tilts his head to look at you, his fingers wrapped around the neck of a glass contained filled with some sort of liquid. “You’ve been working for so long, come take a rest.” You pat your leg and invite him to join you on the soft blanket you’d laid out some time ago.

“I’m trying to make sure we have …”

“I know,” you chuckle, “and it’ll be there for you after you take a quick break.”

He straightened himself out, his torso stretching and overcorrecting slightly as he elongated out his muscles. The bottle slipped further into his palm as he moved his hand up and down, bouncing it slightly as he contemplated your suggestion. You knew it wasn’t like him to take breaks like this, still, you hoped he would at least this time.

“If it makes you feel more productive, bring your notebook so you can draw.” That seemed much more enticing, you smiled to yourself as you watched him retrieve his journal before falling in place at your side.

You were always persistent in getting him to take a moment, a small second to stop moving or relax his eyes which only seemed to be tired when he rested against you

After the first few times, he had tried a couple of different iterations until he found the best position to be the one he was participating in right now. Legs bent so he could prop his drawing notebook or journal onto them; his legs acting as a makeshift easel so he could sketch or paint what was in the background

He may be inclined to share his thoughts with you, perhaps dominating the conversation as he ponders on rhetorical questions and thoughts that fill his mind, but you don’t care because your hands are busy in his hair anyway

After finding a comfortable place for his head, the back of his hair pushed itself up as he slid along the edge of your thigh. You shifted so he could have enough space and while he began to work, you could continue reading through your book. These moments you cherished, these simple, peaceful moments that allowed you to be close to him while giving him all the freedom he’d ever shown you.

Every once in a while you glanced down to his notebook and became transfixed by the way his pencil moved across the page. How each line transitioned from nonsense into a masterful capture of the world stretched out in front of him. It was incredible how his eyes were able to see so much and his hands moved to copy it all down. He didn’t seem to mind the corners of the page fluttering in the wind or how leaves would fall haphazardly around him, resting quietly on his chest or in his hair.

Your hands instinctively went to retrieve them, your thumb sliding across the bumpy surface and fingers pushing against his soft blonde hair. Letting the leaf meander on its way to the ground, you returned your fingers to his head. The tips ran over his forehead, trailing until they came to rest on his outer ear and carefully you tucked some strands of his hair behind it. You heard him sigh and noticed the quick movements of the pen slow to a near stop, a sign for you to continue.

Carefully, you returned your bookmark to the page before resting it onto the blanket. Your hands found their way back to his hair and they began to work their way to his scalp. Your nails sliding along, underneath, below, and over each strand as if you were inspecting it all. The soft texture of it, and the reaction of its owner, made the experience all the better.

After a while, Albedo seemed to pull himself away from the trance you had put him under. A line here, a curve there, his pencil began to move again and the once empty spaces of the paper grew into a beautiful work of art. You too returned to the book you were reading but left one hand against his hair, your fingers moving every once in a while.

The two of you shared in a moment, uninterrupted, and through the connection, the both of you felt more energized than before.

Diluc

Relax? What is relax -> Diluc doesn’t know how, when, or what he would even do to relax so getting him to take a break, to have a moment would be a battle to say the least

You’re much more likely to find success if he’s tired, like super tired, tired to the point you see him shaking his head or rubbing his eyes with his fingers - here he is less likely to deny you - here you have more push in your persuasion

You walked into the study knowing full well what you would find when you pushed open the door. There he was, just as you had imagined him, with his head peering down at documents, his fist balled and pressing against his forehead, his other hand gripping a pen and moving across the papers.

The light from the midday sun slipped through the window and surrounded him in a beautiful glow; an ethereal being with hair the color of juiciest apples and skin paler than the cups of china stocked in the kitchen below. If Diluc would allow it, you’d have stolen several photos of him while he worked, but he wasn’t fond of pictures.

You walked up to the desk and noticed that he had barely eaten the lunch the maids had prepared for him, a few bites taken but nothing substantial. He continued his work even as you approached the front desk, moments like these reminded you how much he trusted you. To allow someone to invade his space like this was an unbelievable sign of faith from the ever distrustful Diluc Ragnvindr.

“Diluc, are you finished with this?” You asked, resting your hand on the edge of the desk and the other grazing the edge of the plate.

“Mm?” He looked up at you, his eyes fuzzy and tired, you glanced with your eyes toward the plate and he followed their gaze. “Oh, yes. I’m finished.” You gave him a weak smile as your fingers closed around the cold ceramic. His head dropped back to the paperwork and you shook your own. Moving to place the plate on the tray next to the entrance of the study, you quickly returned to him but this time moving to his side.

“How’s it coming?” You asked him, your hand drifting toward his shoulder and you grinned as his torso shifted to press deeper into your touch.

“More and more orders are coming in. Seasonal changes always bring business, but it’s difficult to keep the orders together.”

“Hmm, well I know you’ll get it done, you always figure it out.” You slid your hand along his back and noticed how he stopped the movements of his pen. “Why don’t you take a break?”

“I’m far too busy for that.” He voiced, pulling himself back and away from you.

You reached for his hand, your fingers sliding over his bare skin. He disliked wearing gloves while he worked like this. “Indulge me?”

You’ve instructed him to remove his jacket, the heavy fabric would distract from the relaxation you explained would come - he’s a bit hesitant about it, but you’ve asked so nicely how can he possibly say no to you

He will lay on his back and look away from you in an effort to hide his embarrassment or weakness - as the master of the winery, the owner of this business, the pride of so many resting on his shoulders he always told himself that he has to hold it all together, until the day he realized you were the only thing holding him together

He melts, purely and simply, the ever stoic Diluc finds peace with you

His head provides a nice pressure on your legs, his shoulders press against your thigh as you help him get comfortable here. He’s so tall that his feet fall off the daybed, but he doesn’t say anything or really move after. One of his arms rests at his sides while the other lay across his stomach, and you can’t help but smile at the tense way his fingers wrap themselves into a comforting fist.

“I won’t hold you here for long, just try and relax.” You express knowing full well he will have a hard time doing just that. You’ve made sure his hair isn’t tucked underneath him and you admire the way it contrasts with your dark pants. With deft fingers, you undo the ribbon that keeps his hair in place, and as soon as it’s released you begin to fan the strands over your legs.

Carefully, you run your hands over his hair, pressing lightly as you start at the crown of his head and work your way over the red pool on your lap. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed his fist beginning to relax, the way his long fingers extended across his stomach told you that he was finally committing to your request. From there, you decided to work your way through his hair, your fingers sifting and moving through the mess of wildfire on top of his head.

Each time you moved to a new, untouched spot he relaxed more. His legs bending slightly, his hands opening up, his expression softening and soon, he began to turn toward you. His head moved, forehead now pressed against your hip, his body shifted just slightly to be closer to you.

You began to softly hum, the sound of your voice adding to the calming atmosphere of the quiet study and, in a matter of minutes, you could see the steady rise and fall of Diluc’s chest, the inhale and exhale of air as it slipped past his lips and the irregular twitch of his fingers as he slipped off to sleep.

A maid entered the room shortly after and when she saw the two of you in the back of the study and noticed the smile slightly hidden under your index finger as you indicated to her of the sleeping man on your lap, she bowed and exited the room.

Scara

Grumpy - the embodiment of grumpy and absolute worst at taking any suggestion, ever. So when you bring this idea up to him, he’s super against it. He doesn’t want to appear, look, seem soft in any way - ‘what is this silly little thing you are asking me to do?’

He’d push the idea away every time you bring it up -- that is until the day your legs look so tantalizing they are practically calling his name. Perhaps it's the way your hands rest in your lap as they hold onto a book, or the light as it hits your legs, or just the sound of your voice as you offer him a place to rest again and again - he finally succumbs

You’ve been sitting in Scara’s living room for some time now. You learned early on to let him do his own thing and not get in his way, he had made that very clear. Still, you were happy he let you invade his space, that he let you be someone that he tolerated more than most. It definitely ignited your pride to have someone of his stature interested in you.

Though, the only issue with him was the fact that he was always on the move. He never seemed to be stationary for long, and often would be gone for days or weeks at a time, sometimes with a warning. So, you learned to keep yourself busy and take in every moment you could with him.

He had been in and out most of the day so you found yourself preoccupied with your things. Reading, working, relaxing, whatever followed the requirements of the day; you just went with the flow. Today held those sentiments very strongly as you got comfortable on the couch, one leg resting underneath you and the other bouncing on the ball of your foot. You had been engrossed in your book for so long, the characters' adventures gripping you and pulling you through every hill and valley they traveled. You were so absorbed in the words that you didn’t notice Scara calling your name, or how he stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.

Fingers entered your vision and a loud snap sound directly in front of you. You looked up startled and when you saw his face you finally welcomed him.

“Hey, I didn’t notice you were home.” You show him a kind smile and receive nothing in return.

“I was calling you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“What have you been doing all day? Lazing about what it looks like.” He crossed his arms and looked around the room before returning his attention to you.

“I’m taking a break, you’re welcome to join me.” You added, patting your lap.

“I’ve already told you I would never do something so childish.”

You chuckle, slipping your fingers in between the pages of your book. “I know, figured I’d give it another shot. Are you heading back out?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He replied; conversations were often like this with him, short and to the point and almost always without any real answer. So you returned your attention to your book, the pages calling your name as your eyes scanned down the page before landing back on the sentence from which you had been pulled from.

You were drawn back into the scene only to be ripped out of it once again. The book in your hand was pushed to the side, your elbow knocking into the arm of the chair and your head snapping to the source of the disturbance. Scara’s face suddenly came into view as his head rested against your lap, his eyes staring at the ceiling and cheeks speckled with the color silk flowers.

He has this response to things that can throw others off so quickly. He’s violent and angry, but he shows these small signs of humanity in his actions, simple, small things every once in a while it reminds you of a small child who isn’t sure what he really wants

The more he participates in this activity, the more likely he will invade your lap whenever the urge comes over him. He’ll push whatever is in your lap away, if he’s feeling really nice he’ll pick it up and place it elsewhere, otherwise you learn to never hold anything breakable here - he won’t look at you either, his eyes will look away, always, and he expects you to know what he wants, don’t make him beg for anything

You never once expected him to follow through with your request, not in a million years. So when he settles against your legs, his face right next to your stomach and eyes looking upward at you, you're unsure how to respond.

“Well, I’m here.” He says, crossing his arms and legs as he waits expectantly for your attention. You’re so taken-aback that you can’t help but burst into laughter. Covering your face with your hand, the sound of your voice spills into the room and makes the harbinger shift against you. “I knew this was stupid …” He huffs and you have to use so much more strength than you anticipated to pull him back.

“I’m sorry. I just … I never expected … please, don’t go.” You look at him with hopeful eyes and with a sigh he returns his head to your legs. While one of your hands rests against the top of his head, the other works to save your place in your book before resting it on the end table. You don’t even notice that your fingers have started to play with the short locks of his hair until you look back at his face and see his eyes closed.

You stall, but only long enough for him to slightly open his eyes and look at you, his expression of ‘did I tell you to stop’ speaking volumes. So, you start to work your fingers through his hair, the dark purple strands slip easily through your fingers as you shift them around. Spreading your hands out and pressing the tips of your fingers against his scalp and, as your bravery grows, you move your fingers toward his jaw and along the edge of his hairline. His short hair gives you a great view of his face, and you wonder if this is the first time you’ve ever really had the opportunity to look at him. He’s incredibly handsome, one reason he was able to capture you so easily, and the longer you played with his hair, the further the corner of his mouth moved into a faint smile. You would do almost anything for that smile.

A soft chuckle sounds from your throat and the calmness of your actions is gone in an instant. His eyes are open and he’s slipped from your lap, his feet connecting to the floor and the warmth of his body dissipating from your legs. You protest, but he’s already halfway across the room and is clearly trying to keep you from looking at his face.

Kaeya

He is all about this activity - honestly, he’s all about any type of touch you want to offer him and while he has a lot on his plate, he will take these moments to be with you. He doesn’t care either where or around who, he may be partaking in this delectable experience - his mind is filled with you and, when you hold him, touch him, love him, he can think of nothing else

You hadn’t seen him all day, which wasn’t uncommon when there were new recruits or the knights were preparing for a subjection out in the wilderness, Kaeya was typically busier during these times. So, when there were days he wouldn’t be able to get away, and you knew he would continue to work until everything was done, you would find your way to him and offer him a short reprieve from the duties of his work.

He was standing in the hallway consumed in a conversation with one of the knights. His usually peppy demeanor seemed faded, his shoulders drooped a bit further, his gestures more muted as spoke with the other party, and overall, he didn’t seem as energetic as he normally was.

The closer you got, the more attention you drew, and soon Kaeya turned to look at what was drawing the eyes of his speaking partner.

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.” He perked up when he saw you, the light in his blue eyes flashing, a smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! I wanted to stop by since I had a moment. Are you free?” You asked him, crossing your hands behind your back and giving the other knight a quick head nod who returned your hello in a similar manner.

“Of course, I will spare all my time for you.” He closed the distance between the two of you, an arm draping around your shoulder and pulling you close.

“Captain, we’ve been asked to …”

“Yes, yes. I’ll get right on it.” He affirmed to the knight before turning all his attention to you and ushering you down the hallway toward his office.

“Are you sure you are free? If you need me to come ba …”

“Nonsense, how could I pass up this opportunity. Do not worry your pretty little head.” He laughed, his smile wide and eyes closed.

“Okay, I won’t keep you long then.”

“Oh, but I was hoping you’d save me from this boring day.” He laughed and squeezed you closer to his side, even though you could tell he was more tired than usual he was still able to give you so much of his energy.

Kaeya will turn his head toward you, he’ll wrap his hand around your waist because even here he cannot get close enough

Here, he can breathe you in and be the center of your attention - which is his most favorite thing

What he prefers, what he loves most, is when you touch his face, stroke his cheeks with the back of your fingers or your hands as they slide over him, the way you run your fingers along his brow, his jaw, and across his neck - these actions will give him the chills and it may be the only time you truly see him react in such a way

When you get settled onto the couch in his office you call him to you. He eagerly takes the space next to you as if it was always meant for him.

“Lay down, you look exhausted.” You explain, extending your arm around him and waving him to rest in your lap.

“Hah, are you trying to take advantage of me?” He asks, moving closer to you rather than doing what you asked.

“If taking advantage of you looks like letting you take a break, then yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing here.” Your laughter fills his ears and he remembers just how much he missed the sound.

“How can I possibly say no to you?”

“I know, I’m pretty convincing. Now, come here.” You pull on the sleeve of his arm and he quickly follows your guidance. His head settles onto your thighs, his face as close to your stomach as he can get, and his hands resting against his chest.

You help him drape his hair over your leg and start working your way through his bangs, sliding your fingers along his forehead. His playful smile slips into a relaxed expression as he takes in the feeling of your touch on his skin. The way you trace your fingers down his cheek, over his nose, across his lips, his jawline, he is beyond happy here.

“Do you know when you might be able to take a real break?” You ask, running your fingers through the blue strands of his hair, admiring the way it looks as you move them to places they don’t normally rest.

“It seems there are many days ahead of us. These new recruits are …” He lifted his hands into a shrug before dropping them back onto his chest, “Well, progressing at their own pace we’ll say.”

“So it’ll be a while.”

“Perhaps. Don’t fret though, I’ll always make time for you to refill my reserves.”

“I’ll take on that request.” You look down at him and catch his eyes staring back, he moves his hand to rest against your arm and gives it a tight squeeze before turning his face toward you. His eye closes and even as the conversation dies down, as his breathing becomes slower, and his hand slips down the side of your arm you know he won’t fall asleep. He never falls asleep when you are with him like this, no matter how tired he is he refuses to miss a single moment.

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sugawara-sweetheart · 4 years

Text

𝔟𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔵𝔦𝔞 (𝔪)

(n.) the overwhelming desire to kiss

Classmate!Bokuto x reader | 04/09

Warnings: thigh-riding, riding, muscle kink, mirror sex, size kink

Word count: 3.5k

part 5/12 of aphrodisia series

it’s in the reflection of the large full-length mirror leaning against the wall opposite your bed that you notice bokuto isn’t writing notes in his textbook but is actually flexing his bicep. he freezes when his round, gold eyes meet your narrowed slits, a cheeky grin stretching across his face as he flexes his arm once more. you swallow, ignoring the way his muscles and veins ripple, instead sighing as you rub at your forehead and twist towards him.

“how do you like my muscles, y/n?” you try to remain stoic at the way he’s leering at you.

“do you even know what muscles they are? or any of the bones?” it’s your turn to smile when a blush tinges his cheeks, making you chuckle as you push the textbook towards him. “come on, i’m trying to help you pass.”

bokuto pouts childishly at the open textbook, staring down at the coloured diagrams of male anatomy, red sketched muscles labelled alongside the green bones.

“who says i need help passing? i can pass a simple anatomy quiz.” you almost want to laugh but it’s not like bokuto’s scoffing laugh- you want to cry from the utter pain of his situation.

“the twenty-five percent mark on your last quiz says you need help, kou.” your remark makes him scowl, a deeper blush appearing on his cheeks and his long tufts of hair wilting slightly.

“you don’t need to say that, y/n!” he cries with a heavy huff, pulling down on the skin of his left eye with his pink tongue sticking out as you roll your eyes in response.

“do you want me to help you study or not?” you exhale at his cheeky grin as he raises a brow suggestively.

“you can help me with other things too.” he swallows at the fiery daggers you shoot at him, raising his large, veiny hands in defence. “okay, okay, let’s study. but y/n…” irritation trickles into your hot veins as you flare your nostrils as bokuto whines your name pleadingly. “i can’t study like this! i’m an- what’s it called- anaesthetic learner?”

“do you mean kinesthetic?” bokuto pretends to ignore your words, shifting closer to you as he pushes the textbook aside.

“that means i can’t learn like this! and if you’re going to be a good tutor, shouldn’t you adapt to my learning style? or else what am i paying you for?”

“you mean what akaashi-san pays me for.” you sigh, leaning back against the frame of your bed.

but bokuto strangely enough had a point. no matter how many times you tried to just simply explain things to him or asked him to read over powerpoints, the information just never seemed to sink in. but what he was asking of you now...you slowly glanced over at bokuto, watching him absent-mindedly doodle over the corner of his notebook. he really didn’t enjoy studying like this but to teach him through an active process of /touch/? you swallow as your eyes rake over his body, taking in his muscular arms, his broad shoulders and chest that his t-shirt clings to, revealing every curve of his sculpted body and his thighs. the heat rises to your cheeks at the sight of his bulky thigh bulging from his shorts, the ridges and curves of his muscles all revealed. how good would they feel pressed against…

“y/n, like what you see?” you scoff, ignoring the way butterflies churn in your stomach.

“don’t get a big head. but fine,” you exhale vehemently. “let me try teaching you another way.” bokuto smiles, sitting up expectantly as he tosses the notebook carelessly to the side. “i’m going to teach you the muscles first on your own body so hopefully it’ll come back to you in an exam.” he nods, listening diligently with his honey eyes locked onto you, making your heart pound a little faster as you shuffle closer to him.

his body really is beautiful and up close you can see everything about bokuto that you don’t usually see sitting beside him in a lecture hall. you can see the light little freckles across his nose that usually aren’t visible and how long the lashes lining his golden orbs are and the curves of his pink lips, watching the saliva glisten off them when he darts out his tongue to lick at them. you almost choke, eyes widening as you suddenly become aware of bokuto intensely staring at you, the corners of his lips twitching with amusement.

“are you going to start any time soon, y/n? or were you going to keep-”

“right, this is your bicep.” you say loudly, ignoring the way your cheek burns. your heart pounds so heavily against your chest, blood rushing in your ears as you reach out a trembling hand towards his arm. bokuto looks so entertained, cocking his head to the side as you curse yourself- and him- internally. it was just his stupid body; you had enough times of tapping his arm or shoulder to wake him up when he was dozing off in class so why couldn’t you just do it again now?

you swallow as your fingertips graze his skin, his smooth muscle so warm as you trace your fingers over it. “this is your tricep. say it after me, kou.”

“bicep. tricep.” you swallow, glancing away from the way your fingertips slide down the underside of his arm to meet his bulging tricep. a heavy stillness hangs in the room, the only sound seeming to be some heavy panting but you’re unsure if it’s from you or bokuto- after all, you can’t seem to meet his eyes.

“this is the...pectoralis major.” you swallow hard as your fingertips come to graze bokuto’s chest and you cringe inwardly at the way he tenses. your face is heating up horribly just by your fingertips lingering on his chiselled muscles, making irritation flicker in you. he’s wearing clothes, for god’s sake! you’re merely being a good tutor, nothing else so why are you so flustered?!

“do you like my pectoralis major, y/n?” bokuto smirks. your eyes widen, pulling you out of your cringing thoughts as you quickly remove your hand.

“what?” he chuckles.

“you’re so flustered and you’re barely even touching me.” he teases, lifting his hand to rest the back of his cold fingers against your cheek. “see, you’re so hot and bothered and we’re not even doing anything.” you scowl, swatting his hand away and ready to bite back a remark but you’re suddenly distracted when bokuto starts to lift his t-shirt.

“what are you doing?!”

“trying to see how flustered i can make our resident prude y/n.” he cackles, making you splutter as he tugs his t-shirt off. you’re speechless, wanting to shout back that you’re not some innocent, sheepish prude but you can’t, not when bokuto’s bare chest and abs look so beautiful. he looks amazing with his muscles rippling all over his entire sculpted body that you cannot imagine anything except what it’d be like to be underneath him, raking your nails through his muscular back.

“see,” bokuto continues to jeer. “you can’t even talk right now, that’s how flustered you are! you’re such a-” he falls silent the moment your hands come into contact with his shoulders, pushing him back on the floor onto his forearms. his gold eyes round as you straddle over him, your nails digging into his broad shoulders to elicit a wincing whine that makes your core clench. a smirk stretches across your face with the way bokuto’s staring at you, his mouth hanging open mid-sentence and redness flooding his face.

“well, well,” you whisper as you lean towards his face, your hot breath ghosting over his jaw as you edged towards his ear. “who’s flustered now?” you can hear him gulp, making you smile more but you’re too far gone now, the initial embarrassment washed away by sheer boldness and the feeling of power to turn the tables, to reduce bokuto to a stuttering mess. you only go further, licking at his ear lobe before pressing soft kisses against his jaw, making him shudder underneath you. he moaned softly at the feeling, his eyes fluttering shut as you continued to pepper his jawline and neck with gentle, lingering kisses.

“look at me.” bokuto looks up, blinking slowly like he’s dreaming. he swallows, his voice cracking when he speaks.

“y-yeah?” you chuckle, slowly moving your hands from his shoulders to the hem of your top, making sure his rounded eyes followed your movement carefully. your heart was hammering but you loved this anyway, your core clenching as you witness him take a sharp intake of breath as he watched you slowly lift your top. the cold air meets your body with tingling sensation, your nipples beginning to pebble as you toss your top away, bokuto breaking the tensed silence with choked splutters. “y/n! what are you doing?”

“you thought i was a prude, huh?” you question as you shift off his waist. he shakes his head quickly.

“no! come on, y/n- show me you’re not a prude! please?” he looks hopeful when you pull down your shorts, arousal overtaking you. he gasps at the sight of you revealing your bare cunt to him, his eyes glued to your dampening folds but it’s only momentary before you’re straddling his thigh, the two of you moaning at the feeling of your bare cunt pressing against his tensed thigh. “wait, aren’t you going to touch me?” he whines and it’s then that your eyes fall on the outline of his cock straining against his grey shorts; he’s painfully hard, the thought making you smile gleefully.

“oh, of course not.” you roll your hips, pressing your wet cunt against bokuto’s hard thigh. pleasure shoots through you, making you moan loudly as you grasp his shoulders, aware of your pretty tits hanging directly before his face. “and you can’t touch me either?” you don’t care that bokuto scoffs, mouth falling open with shock as you continue to roll your hips against his thigh, little gasps and pants falling from your lips.

“what? why can’t i- ow!” he winces when you slap away his outstretched hand, a thrill shooting through you at the look of his pout before you bring to your fingers to gently grasp his chin, tilting his face to look at you.

“if you manage to keep your hands off me till i cum, i’ll let fuck you my tight, wet cunt.”

your words make bokuto jolt and he presses his palms to the floor, keeping himself sat up as you giggle. your moans get louder as you grind your hips faster, the sweet, euphoric pleasure running through you as your cunt drags along his thigh. the ridges of his muscles feel so good pressed against your swollen clit and puffy folds, it draws out such pretty moans and you’re dripping all over his leg, his skin glistening as he hisses. you know it must feel so good for him, to feel your wet cunny pressed against his tensed thigh.

“y/n…” bokuto whines so needily but you drown him out with all your pretty moans, your eyes locked with his. you can feel your core clench at observing his orbs, darkened with such lustful desperation, dragging down to your bouncing chest and your pretty pussy that ruts against his thigh so wantonly.

“fuck, do you like me using you like this, koutarou?” you tease, tracing your finger along the column of his neck and collarbone to feel him shiver. bokuto nods, swallowing and eyes fixated on you. you can see his nails scraping into the floor with utter need and it only fuels the fire in you more.

bokuto’s whines are as loud as your moans when you start humping his thigh, your tits bouncing as you pant and whimper, the pleasure so much fierier with the pressure against your sopping pussy.

“kou- koutarou!” bokuto looks so hungry, so needy when you slide your hands up to grope your tits, massaging them and rolling your swollen buds between your fingertips to make yourself moan louder with the pleasure, back arching. the coil in your stomach feels so much tighter as you rut against bokuto’s thigh so needily, drinking in the way he’s staring at you, his cock twitching against the tight restraints of fabric and his bottom lip clenched between his teeth. “i’m going to cum, koutarou!”

the coil snaps and you’re cumming, the hot waves of ecstasy running through your veins as you cum all over bokuto’s thigh, grinding yourself against him through your high so messily with strings of moans rolling from you. you love that bokuto’s watching you so hungrily, whimpering with lust and his teeth biting down so hard on his bottom lip, beads of red blood appear and his knuckles are white from how tightly he’s clenching his fist.

“fuck, you look so hot” he suddenly cries, bucking his hips up desperately as you pant heavily, dizzy with the aftermath of your climax. “fuck, please, y/n, let me touch you- want to fuck you so bad-” you silence him by roughly grabbing him by his hair, gripping his long strands tight as you smash your lips against his, letting him moan into your mouth wantonly. his hands grip your hips, running along your sides before they grope your tits, the coarse skin of his fingers rubbing at your nipples to make you sigh into his mouth.

“go on, kou.” you murmur against his lips, eliciting something between a whine and a wince as you tug at his hair. “fuck me then.”

bokuto is rough, his strength underestimated as he pulls you off his thigh, a moan escaping you at his bruising grip. his leg is so sinfully wet with your release, your cum glistening in the light but it doesn’t bother bokuto as he yanks down his shorts, releasing his painfully hard cock. you can’t help your mouth watering at the sight of his cock slapping against his chiselled stomach when he looks so fucking good. the head of his cock is flushed with his arousal, veins prominent along his long, thick length- you’re almost certain your hand wouldn’t fit around it and despite the slick that runs down your thighs, you’re sure the stretch will burn. but in the moment your head is clouded with lust as all you can think of is how fucking hot bokuto looks, his head thrown back and chest heavily as he releases loud, deep moans, the muscles and veins of his arms rippling as he fists his cock.

“i’m going to fuck you so good.” bokuto growls, grinning in a way that makes your spine run cold and your wetness soak you even more. “you’re gonna be screaming my name so loud your neighbours will know my name.” you gasp when he moves to you quickly, gripping your hair to push you forward on your hands and knees. you moan as you look up, met with your own reflection. you look so fucked out, pupils blown wide with lust and your lips red and swollen, skin glistening with sweat.

“make me cum all over your cock, please, kou.” you whine and bokuto grins, leering at you in the reflection of the mirror as he slides the head of cock through your sensitive folds, causing you to twitch as you release a loud sigh.

“oh trust me, i will- fuck, you look so good.” he gropes your ass, squeezing at the fat which makes you giggle as you cannot resist the urge to tease him.

“kou, do you know what the muscle’s called?” bokuto hisses, gritting his teeth as he protrudes his cock through your folds, your amusement vanishing as you gasp, clawing at the carpet at the burn of the stretch.

“gluten.” he chuckles but you can’t even laugh, not when he’s splitting you apart on his thick cock. your walls cling to his length, every vein and ridge of his cock pressing against your wet, sensitive walls. it burns and you’re being overloaded with stimulation, one of his hands snaking between your legs to rub at your clit as he pushes himself deeper into you whilst you can only moan so pathetically.

“fuck, look at your tight, little hole struggling to take my cock.” bokuto laughs, making you whine as your mind is so clouded by that haze of pleasure you don’t even realise you’re convulsing around him, little cries escaping you. “fuck, are you coming already?” he’s just bottomed out, his hips snapping flush against your ass you moan out loudly, arms and legs quivering as he holds you up by your hips, watching the way your puffy pussy spasms around his length, creaming all over him once again. you look so sinful in the mirror, your body twitching and mouth hanging wide open for moans to spill from.

“so-so big, you’re so big!”

your pants make bokuto’s face split into a grin, his ego rising when he suddenly starts to fuck your sensitive cunt. you shriek loudly at the sudden pleasure and pain filling you with each thrust he delivers, his grunts as loud as your almost-sobbing cries. you’re watching the way you moan, the way he hisses, your tits bouncing with with each harsh slam into your sopping cunt. the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room but bokuto is lost in pleasure, his eyes glazed as he holds your hips with a bruising grip.

“fuck, you’re so tight- your pussy feels so good!” he groans, rutting into you deeper as you choke, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix. you feel so full, so stretched out on his cock with the waves of pleasure rushing through you making your mind feel hazy and your ears pound, hot sweat coating over you. “you’re squeezing me so tight.”

“koutarou, you make me feel so good! fucking me so good! please me cum, i want to cum! please!” you’re babbling with how good bokuto fucks you, watching his hips snap against your ass hard and fast in the mirror, your face unrecognisable with tears streaming down your cheeks and drool spilling so messily that bokuto just feels so proud of himself. flustered y/n now babbling and crying over how good his cock feels fucking her needy, sopping cunt.

“fuck, i’ll make you cum. i’ll make you cum so well over my big cock, yeah?” bokuto grips your hair at the roots, pulling you off with a hiss escaping you as you’re pressed flush against his chest. it’s so hot, the clear view of your pretty tits bouncing with each thrust, his thick cock easily visible glistening with your slick every time he fucks in and out of your cunt. he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, eyes locked with yours in the mirror. his hand wraps around your throat to squeeze slightly at your sides, moans escaping you both when you clench around him tighter. “look at that, y/n, look at me filling you up with my cock.” you watch in the reflection his other hand comes to press against your stomach, sighing as he feels the bulge of his length at the bottom of your stomach, pressing against your skin as you cry out from pleasure.

“you’re so big, kou- fuck, i’m going to cum!”

you tighten around bokuto, making it harder for him to thrust into you with the way your walls grip to him. moans fall from you, your eyes clenching shut and body shaking in his hold as all you can do is rub at your clit, pushing yourself neareer to your release. he ruts into you fast and hard, cock thrusting against your sweet spot. “fuck, koutarou!” you practically scream his name as you convulse around him, soaking him with your wetness which only makes him wilder, watching the way your cum drips down your thighs. bokuto growls, slamming his cock into you as you cry out from the sensitivity, just focused on pushing himself closer and closer to the edge of pleasure. it isn’t hard when your wet walls cling to him that his cock twitches and he cums, releasing into your sopping cunt and fucking it deep inside you, your name rolling off his tongue.

bokuto pants as he slumps back against your bed frame, carefully holding you in his arms as you rest your head on his chest, his large cock still buried deep into your full pussy. you’re coming down from your high, the worries of fucking your own friend and classmate flooding your mind but it’s quelled when bokuto gently kisses the crown of your forehead, his hands gently rubbing your sides.

“i like these study sessions, y/n. we should do them more.” you let out a laugh, body still feeling light from the euphoric high of your orgasms.

“we barely even studied, kou.” he smiles down at you cheekily, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“who says we’re studying the next time too?” maybe being bokuto’s tutor wouldn’t be so bad after all.

taglist: @crushingonsuga @redflannel @nekomas-biggest-fangirl @euniche95 @heyhinata @strawhatshepard @karasu-hoes @kokenma @haikyuuhotline @chichibia @satendou @kaashi-is-bae

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sunlightheidi · 3 years

Text

Life Worth Living

Jihyun Kim "V" | MC / Reader

*NSFW (under cut)

Happy Sunday friends! Enjoy this very fluffy smut ~

Jihyun’s studio is your favorite room in the house.

Everything about it is light. Light wooden floors and walls a pale shade of ivory, both speckled with remnants of paint that neither of you have ever bothered cleaning. The windows are tall and give you a perfect view of the fluttering hummingbirds drinking water from the feeder you’d hung from the maple oak tree (had sat on Jihyun’s shoulders to do it – swaying and giggling).

The sun filters through the sheer curtains, illuminates the room in golden hues all through the day. It’s the perfect amount of light for Jihyun to work clearly and peacefully (whether he’s drawing, or painting or taking silly photographs of you) and lets you linger quietly in his space as he does so – content and warm in the little blue sofa and the soft blankets he’s placed in here just for you.

This little nook Jihyun has created is where you spend most of your free time. You love to lay down and daydream as you watch him work. His art is wonderful, you’ve always thought so – every piece sketched, every canvas painted, every picture taken leaves you in complete wonder of him, of his talent.

But what you love best of all is watching him create these dreamscapes; shirtless and muscles rippling as he sways freely, careless hair glittering in the light, tools in his gentle paint-stained hands – he’s beautiful.

You could lay in this little corner of yours forever; learning the names of his favorite paints, about which techniques he prefers to use, listen to way he moves and all that he dreams of.

There are days however, when minutes feel like hours and your heart feels weary because everything has gone pear-shaped and wrong. A long warm shower makes you feel a little more like yourself, but you struggle to keep your eyes open as you stumble up the stairs in your robe and nothing else, to the man you’ve given your heart and whole life too.

Ah, there he is; his back to the door and sitting on a spinning stool, paintbrush in hand and a palette in the other.

You go to him instantly, wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his back in greeting, say nothing because you don’t want to distract him from his work. You nuzzle his neck and peek over his shoulder at his current project. A landscape this time – cherry blossoms from the trip he had surprised you with for your anniversary a few months ago.

As you begin to pull away, he pulls you back and wraps his arms around you – kisses you dizzy, calls you darling and sweetheart and tells you how much he’s missed you.

You stumble into your little sanctuary afterwards, lips swollen and a little off balance but warm and happy; fall asleep the moment you wrap yourself in the coziness of your blankets.

You dream of a night in spring, of cherry blossom trees and a quiet breeze and a starry sky – a memory of gentle hands caressing your softness and making love to you under the moonlight.

The dream vanishes, colors and hues of blues and golds fill your vision – you wake to soft kisses along your thighs, on your hips. You shift a little, yawning and chest rising. Then, a gentle tap on your thigh; the solid end of a pencil. Warm, turquoise eyes meet yours as they open.

Jihyun is sitting on the sofa with you, has made room for himself at the very end with your feet on his lap, his earlier work long forgotten.

“Stay still for me, darling.”

You shudder under the weight of his gaze, seeking it even as his attention shifts back to the sketchpad in his hand, charcoal pencil in the other. Those same graceful hands that are always so careful when they take you apart; so careful and memorizing when they trace the outline of your figure on paper, and smooth an array of charcoal down the lines of your body.

Jihyun loves to spill you onto his art – pictures drawn and photographs taken of you, they are strewn all over his studio, displayed on the walls of every room in your home. They are beautiful, just like everything else about him, like everything he graces with his touch.

But hanging right next to them is your own work, a disarray of candid pictures you’ve taken of him. They are your absolute favorites because he’s always radiant and flushed, always giggles shily the moment you turn the camera on him.

“Your thoughts are spinning,” he says, eyes flickering up to you, a soft smile on his pretty mouth. “What did you dream about?”

“The night we camped underneath the stars, when the cherry blossoms were blooming.”

“Mmm,” he hums, a soft agreement. He remembers it perfectly – the night you’d laid naked with him underneath the stars and he’d made love to you until the sun rose. “A good dream then. Spread your legs a little wider, sweetheart?”

You do so, at peace with the warm flush that’s worked its way through your insides. It is still new to you, being bared like this for him to draw you, but you are comfortable. More than comfortable with him, if only a little shy at his attention, but he’s always tender with you.

His gaze flickers down your body; the blankets have long fallen to the floor, your robe in disarray and hiding nothing from him. You don’t fix it – let him watch every bit of you instead. “Are you getting a little restless, darling?”

“A little,” you admit, “but I can stay still a little longer for you.”

Jihyuns nods, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “Are you sure?” he asks, using his thumb to massage your inner thigh.

“Jihyun, dearest, you’re not meant to be making this harder for me,” you remind him, lowering your eyebrows in a faux-scowl, lip pouting. Your body shivers in delight as you witness his eyes darken – you know he loves your mouth, know it makes his fantasies unwind like nothing else.

He laughs, something dark and hoarse, but always as warm as the sun. “My apologies. You know I am just as tempted by you, if not more so.”

“Keep your hands to yourself,” you tease, letting your eyes fall closed once again as you slip into a steady daze. “Please finish quickly Jihyun, I’ve missed you terribly.”

And you have. All day long have been feeling a little heartsick for him.

You don’t open your eyes again for a while. Occasionally, you feel him moving you around; a hand adjusting the position of your arm, brushing hair from your face, or ghosting against your thighs.

It’s a while before he moves again, and you feel the sofa cushions shift as he slips his legs from beneath you; hear him place his sketchpad and charcoal down.

You open your eyes when you feel Jihyun hover above you – plush lips, soft lashes, smiling mouth, adoration in his gaze. You don’t need a single star or planet to align if only he keeps looking at you in this way for the rest of your life.

“Can I see the sketch?” You whisper, your body writhing at the wild, desperate look he gives you; know that he needs you just as badly as you need him.

You feel dizzy, drunk as you try to regain control of your body that never, never, never has enough of him.

“Later,” he answers, finally brushing his lips against yours, swallowing your moan as he presses every inch of his body against yours. He can’t ever have enough of you either.

Jihyun loves to capture these moments between you, has taken photographs of him pleasing you, of you pleasing him, of you two together; you wish he would paint this moment, the two of you intwined so tightly that you looked like one.

There is no need for preparation; you’ve been wet since he’d pressed you back into the blankets and asked you to stay there. Jihyun releases a shaky breath as he thrusts up and over your mound, coating himself in your arousal. You press his face into your neck and drape one leg over his hip, opening yourself up fully and giving unspoken permission at the same time.

You both gasp as the head of his cock notches at your entrances. His hips tremble slightly as he drives in, only stopping once his hips are tights against yours. You can’t help it; you squeeze around him, arch a little and writhe at the delicious fullness you feel.

“Thank you for waiting for me, my love” he says, and you know he doesn’t just mean today, or every other day you’ve watched him work while basking in the sunlight.

He means that period so long ago, when both of you were lost and stumbling through life but had fallen desperately in love with each other. When he’d left to learn how to live with mistakes made and figure out himself and his dreams.

You stayed and tried to make sense of what your life had become. Had spent so much of your time praying to the stars, to the moon, to the sun that he would come back to you.

He pulls backs to look at your face, brushes wild hair from your forehead and presses a kiss where his fingers had been. He only moves once he is sure you won’t look away. The first time he draws away and presses back in is enough to make you whine, enough to make you cry with the tender way he is looking at you.

Jihyun fucks into you at a gentle pace, loves to draw out the pleasure and just feel you beneath him. You understand why, too. All those years of secrecy and lying had left his body tired and his soul weary, and now he is eager for a moment of respite. He’s found that peace, the calmness he’s searched his whole life for, in you.

You can feel your wetness coating your inner thighs and his. You suck in a breath as Jihyun slicks your wetness up, fingers grazing your swollen, sensitive clit. A broken gasp leaves you as he presses harder, circling around you and you press yourself against his hand, rocking into him as he thrusts into you. You begin to flutter around him and he groans, his pace finally stuttering, his hips shaking against yours.

“Come on, baby,” he urges, flushed and eyes dark and shining. “Let me hear you.”

And you do. You let yourself vocalize everything that he makes you feel – the adoration, the love, the coursing desire that has lit a burning fire within you. He presses his mouth to yours and tastes every sound you make, pupils blown and completely blissed out in the knowledge that it’s all because of him.

He continues to stroke you through the aftershocks of pleasure, joins you with a jerk of his hips – brows furrowed, eyes shut and his lips parted as he moans your name.

When he finally pulls away, your thighs are shaking and your eyes are dropping with fatigue. He kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, pulls back to look at the mess between your thighs and sings you quiet praises.

“Come here, honey,” he whispers, slowly standing up and hooking one arm beneath your knees, the other under your shoulders and lifts you up effortlessly. You lock your arms around him and nuzzle into his neck, sigh in quiet happiness. “Let’s get to bed.”

He carries you through the hallways of this home you’ve built together. Photographs of you two line the walls, kissing and smiling and always looking at each other with joy in your eyes.

There are pictures of your friends too, posters of Zen’s productions, blurry images of Jumin with Elizabeth the 3rd, Jaehee in front of her new café, Yoosung at his recent graduation, and plenty of the reunited Choi twins on their many adventures (because Saeyoung has taken it upon himself to hang pictures on your walls too).

Days can be long, and sometimes you don’t feel like yourself; but these still images that capture the life you once dreamed of help you remember: you have Jihyun, you have a family – you need nothing else.

You lean closer to Jihyun, kiss up his neck and across his jawline. Press your lips against the corner of his smiling mouth. “I love you.”

I would have waited a lifetime for you, you think. You have made my life a living dream.

#jihyun kim #kim jihyun #mysme #mystic messenger fanfic #v mystic messenger #v mysme #mystic messenger #my work #jihyun Kim x mc #jihyun kim x reader #mysme v #mystic messenger v

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rosalineandrosemary · 3 years

Text

he reached for the sun, and the sun took his hand.

Ao3

There are benches both inside and outside of their school, even without counting the cafeteria, but they’re all encompassed by the hustle and bustle of their school. And so, when Marinette starts walking away from the school after the lunch bells ring, Felix follows like a moth to a flame. She walks past her house, waving at her maman through the windows of the bakery, and he waves too, stiffly. Her maman smiles at them, and points to the display cases to ask if they want anything. Marinette shakes her head and raises the bag she’s holding, to which Mme. Cheng nods, and they keep walking.

Marinette stops them at one of the benches in the park, and sits down in the shade. He sits down without prompting, and Marinette beams at him, a smile that could challenge the sun. He freezes and looks away, trying to hide the warmth growing in his cheeks, and pulls his lunch out of his bag.

“Did you hear what Lila was saying in class today? Talking about her latest trips to far off places but all the images she showed you can find online with five minutes of searching. Like, it’s nice to sit by you during class, but sometimes I wish I could still sit by Alya in the seat we earned, you know?”

He hummed in agreement, perfectly content to let her talk while he ate his lunch, but she instead let the statement hang in the air before pulling out her own lunch.

The silence was companionable, broken only by remnants of conversation from other small student groups and the laughter of some of the playing children. Around halfway through their allotted lunch time, Marinette puts away her containers with a content noise and a full body wiggle before pulling her sketchbook from the confines of her backpack. “Do you mind if I sketch? I have a couple ideas for some outfits that I really want to get down!”

“Feel free.”

“Thanks, Fe!” She smiles again and he’s lost in it, left staring even after she’s turned away. It’s as if her smile is burned into his eyes, an entoptic phenomenon that steals his breath from his lungs. By the time he pries his eyes away, Marinette is already immersed in her designs, her tongue poking out from between her lips. He reaches into his bag to pull out his book, but none of the words stick in his mind, eyes trailing back to stare at Marinette’s quiet joy.

Eventually he gives up, placing his book back in his bag and sitting there, staring into his own personal sun, sitting right next to him. The ice in his chest is melting into a pooling ocean and it feels like he’s about to overflow with it, surface tension being the only thing keeping his feelings from spilling out and he can’t bear to stare at her for any longer.

He tears his eyes away, trying to turn the water back into ice, to freeze the feelings back in his chest and keep it contained, but there’s too much water and too many feelings and even if he can turn some of them into icebergs it doesn’t change the amount of water and finally everything comes spilling out.

“It hurts to look at you sometimes, Marinette.” His words, soft as they may be, break the silence between them. She turns to look at him, endlessly blue eyes piercing into his skin, eyebrows furrowing with worry, an expression he’s seen time and time again: when he gets too close to akuma fights, when the bags under his eyes are darker and he forgoes his usual coffee order for something with more caffeine, or when she’s worrying about other people and he gets to watch the all-consuming flames of her care.

“Felix?” Her voice is soft and confused, and it takes everything within him to not turn to look at her, to not let the words freeze on his tongue, to not shove everything he’s feeling back underneath his infamous “ice prince” persona that she so carefully took apart.

He watches her out of his periphery, continuing to stare ahead and try to figure out how to melt the ice in his chest that he had tried so hard to freeze. He can’t take this back now. He can’t leave her with just that phrase, not with the twists and turns and dark corners all throughout her brain. “You’re incandescent, a sun of your own volition, and I fear that I am forever just going to be orbiting you at a distance.” He tightens his grip around the strap of his bag, white knuckled and shaking softly, before releasing it and stretching out his fingers. Felix sees her move, place her hands down on the bench, moving to get up, to stare him in the eyes. Her mouth is opening, an indignant cry of his name on her lips, and he feels like he’s going to burn from the inside out.

“Please,” he croaks, voice unsteady. “Please, let me finish, Marinette.” His tone is worrying her even further, and so are his words. It’s written plain on her face, a book she never chose to lock. Her emotions are her strength and it’s awe-inspiring to see from inside his several layers of ice, carefully frozen to keep everything locked inside. She continues to melt it with ease, leaving him scrambling, but he needs to tell her.

“Try as I might, I can’t keep this in any longer. I feel as though I am bursting at the seams, combusting. You melted the walls and pillars of ice I formed for years, nosing your way into every nook and cranny of my being, and I believe I have fallen for you.” Marinette lets out a soft gasp and he turns away, lacing his fingers around the strap of his bag once again.

He can’t bear to see the look on her face when she rejects him. Disgust? Horror? Her quiet kind of upset, where her eyes fill with tears and she tries to stifle it, to push away her own feelings over and over again?

He keeps talking, a desperate bid to keep himself away from the truth for as long as he can. “I apologize for the hastiness of my confession, and I hope I didn’t upset you too much. I’m sorry if I did, I truly had no intention to, but I understand if you reject me and I’d even understand if you never wished to see me again, I just wished to--”

“Felix.” Her voice stops him in his tracks, body tensing. “Felix, do you mind if I touch you?” Her voice is soft and her words kind but he flinches regardless, giving a jerky nod. He didn’t expect her to want to touch him, not after he ruined their friendship, but he tensed further as he thought of all the power contained in her body and prepared for backlash. He knew, intrinsically, that someone as kind as Marinette could never hurt someone maliciously, but that knowledge fell into the chasm of fear in his chest, and all he could hope was that she would choose to spare him, even a little.

One of her hands enters his line of sight and he flinches, closing his eyes, before her warm hand is placed softly on his cheek, slowly turning his head to face in her direction. “Felix, I could never be upset with you for that.” Her tone is impossibly tender, her hand is still cupping his cheek, and he exhales slowly before opening his eyes.

There are tears dripping down her cheeks, rolling down to the beaming smile stretched across her lips, and she raises her other hand to hold his face like he’s something precious. “I adore you, did you know that?” She smiles even brighter, looking him in the eyes before continuing.

“Each pen has a specific place in your pencil case, and you change which pen you use each school period. You take your coffee with cream and sugar even though you say it’s black when anyone asks. You pretend you’re made of ice because it’s everything you’ve known, but you still care even if it’s not in your best interests. Everything about you is something to love, and I do. And you’re here. Despite everything, you’re here, not orbiting some foreign sun or wasting away in a cavern of ice. You’re right here, with me, and I am holding your face in my hands and you are beautiful.” She’s still crying, tears catching the sunlight, and she presses her forehead to his but it’s just warm. Nothing burns and she is so close and she’s not a sun, she’s simply Marinette, and he loves her more than anything he’s ever known.

“Thank you, Marinette.” Those words, choked out his throat, try to compact everything he’s feeling into one simple statement. The love, the awe, the feeling of reaching something he never thought he would be able to reach, the pure joy filling in every gap where fear laid just moments before, like the sun rising over Paris. But instead of being that sun, Marinette is here and she is right in front of him and she is watching the sky turn pink and the darkness retreat and it may be noon but he thinks this is the prettiest sunrise he has ever seen.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Felix.” He smiles at her, leaning against one of her hands, placing his own on top of hers. He feels ridiculous holding his own face but she brightens impossibly more and there is blush flaring on his cheeks and he tries to look away but she’s still right there.

“Well then, how about saying I love you instead?” He tries to put confidence in his voice, but he is putty in her hands and she can tell, her smile turning from something big and beaming to something small but so fond it almost makes his chest ache.

“I love you too, Felix.” And she locks eyes with him and looks down and he tries to nod but forgets that she’s that close and bumps heads with her instead.

Marinette laughs and it’s joyful and he just stares at her and hopes that she can see the fondness building in his chest when he looks at her. She stops laughing and her cheeks flush to a pink color that he thinks could be his favorite color. Every part of her is his favorite color. The blue color of her hair in the light, the blue color of her eyes, the color of the faint freckles on her cheeks and the pink of her blush and he’s staring again, he knows he is, but she just smiles and places her forehead back against his.

“Can I kiss you?” She whispers it, like they’re in their own little world, and he presses forward and kisses her first. Her lips are soft and she tastes like a fruit flavor he can’t quite recall, not with her hands on his face and her lips on his.

There aren’t fireworks, or sparks. There’s no burning or fire or hurting. There’s just him and there’s Marinette and a feeling of home and rightness like everything he’s ever wanted.

He breaks away first, offers another whispered “I love you” against her lips before she pulls away too, far enough away that he can actually see things beyond her eyes and her cheeks and her hair.

She moves one of her hands and he lifts his so she can take it back, and she puts on a mock-serious face that can’t hide the joy in her eyes.

“If you ever talk about yourself that way again I’m going to fight you.” She waggles one finger at him, lips curling to conceal her laughter, and he raises his eyebrows even as he melts further into her remaining hand.

“You’re going to fight me?”

“Yes! With love and affection and pets.” He doesn't get a chance to ask what she means by pets before her nails are scratching through his hair, and he wished he could deny the way that his eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

“You make a formidable opponent, my dear.” She giggles, moving to scratch behind his ear before the alarm goes off, telling them that they have to make their way back to school if they don’t want to be late.

She reaches her hand out to him and he takes it, lacing his fingers between hers.

#felinette #this is the wip i was ignoring!! i finished it!!#thank you notte and nebula for beta-ing!!!!#marinette dupain cheng #pv felix #miraculous ladybug #rosaline writes

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the-official-account · 2 years

Text

So I got the idea for a black magical girl group to warm up my cold dead heart and now I'm in love with them. Please ignore how basic the clothes are for now I'll work on it but PLEASE ask me about them.

[ID: several photos of pencil sketches.

The first photo shows the busts of three girls listed here from left to right. The first has a broad, sharp chin, a wide nose, medium skin and long hair in looser curls. She"s labeled "Uvia, 5'6, 'the cover story' afrolatina with anxiety and schizophrenia. Aroace. Dancer. Orange. The second girl is dark skinned with a chiseled jaw, short hair, cropped eyebrows and an unfriendly looking face. She's labeled, "Sue. 5'2. Butch system. 'the ride & Intel lesbian. Single mom is a stylist. Adopted. Purple." The third and last girl on this page has a thin face with prominent cheekbone and thick lips. Her hair is in dreads pulled back in a bun. Text beside her reads "Shawnee, 6'1, 'the smart one's autistic. Podcaster/singer. Botswanan. Bi. Blue.'

The second image shows three more girls listed here from left to right. The first is a thin, light skinned girl with shoulder length curls who sneers at the viewer. She is labeled "Trakina, 5'9, 'the angry one/lovesick' step team. Straight. Pink." The second is a fat, dark skinned girl with her hair in two puffs. She is labeled "Mikaylah-Jeniah (mikiji) 5'8 'the main pov/inspirational speakers drummer. Antiguan. Pan. Jewish. Yellow." The third and final girl has a rectangular face with big, almond shaped eyes. She wears a hijab and a hoodie. She is labeled, "Jordan, 5'11, (deciding whether or not to be hijabi still) trans. Artist. 'curious one' straight. Green."

The third image shows the previous two images in one larger spread, revealing that across the two pages arrows with heart in them connect Sue, Shawnee, and Mikiji, showing that Shawnee likes sue, sue likes Mikiji and Mikiji likes Shawnee. The diagram is labeled "real actual love triangle resolves poly."

The next image shows Sue in her alter ego outfit, made up of pants and a dress shirt, helping Shawnee in her alter ego outfit, closer to a sleeveless school girl outfit, standing from the group. Around Shawnee a large heart is drawn with the text "ba-dum" nearby in all caps. The drawing is labeled "after a battle...the start of something." Underneath is a neck-up sketch of Jordan in profile without her hijab on, showing that her head is mostly shaved with slits on the side, and grows long and kinky on top. She has am arcing, aquiline nose.

The fourth image shows two sketches of Shawnee singing, one a head sketch from full front, where her eyes are closed and her dread drift magically in the air around her head as she sings into the microphone, showing sound lines coming from her. Another shows her standing in her magical girl outfit, facing away from the viewer and holding the mic up to her mouth also with sound lines emitting. Below is a sketch for Sue in her magical girl outfit, with cookie catchers floating magically around her head as she folds an origami swan, and a doodle of Sue in a car labeled "get in bitch". A note on the page reads "Everyone has shorts or tights on under their skirts except for Sue who wears pants."

The fifth image shows the girls in various whole body sketched action poses. In one corner, Jordan in her Hijabi magical girl outfit stands in a power stance and sprays gas from a spray paint can. Uvia underneath is wrapped by a ribbon as she ribbon dances in her magical girl outfit. To the left, Trakina falls from above with her boot close and big and the rest of her foreshortened from the camera, arms swing above her head, her hair flying behind her. Below that, Mikiji flies through the air, bringing two enormous drumsticks down and making cracks with an accompanying sound babble saying "crack!"

On the fifth and last page are more polished sketches. Described here from the top down. First, Mikiji is shown playing on a minimal drum set in regular clothes. With one eye open and the other closest she smirks and seems relaxed, hands crossed at the wrist. Behind her, text reads "bum bum tam. Bum bum tam" emphasizing each "tam". Below is a full body sketch of Uvia and Trakina. Uvia stands poised in her ballet outfit, hands out head and feet spread, head turned to profile with her eyes closed. Trakina in her step team uniform squat-lunges in front of her and to one side, with one hand on her knee and the other high in the air, holding a baton. She smiles up at Uvia. A level nearby reads "combining styles of dance instead of being enemies." End ID.]

#please please please ask about my new ocs i love them so much please please #original art #original characters #magical girls #black girl magic #edil draws #im so excited about them i love them #mikiji #mikiji's team

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primalsouls · 3 years

Text

checkup

albedo x m! reader

⚠️ : none but let me know!

theme: general

note: albedo albedo albedo albedo. i just love albedo and want to write something more general because usually the fics i read tend to be too fluff or too angst and sometimes other fics tend to feel like a super slow. like, im not trying to read an eassy. 💀 jkjk lol anyway, enjoy, hope you like it! and thank you for reading! let me know what you think. :)

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dragonspine was never in their bucket list of places to visit. It was deadly cold. Monsters roamed around. Even the Fatui were presented. [Y/N] was surprised how he managed to reached the campus set out by the Chief Alchemist further up the mountain. One would think he would camp out with the group based at the bottom of the mountain. He was a skilled swordman and his vision kept him warm throughout the difficult journey as best as it could. He did broke a sweat when fighting a few monsters but all that was important was his destination. Thus meeting Albedo, the genius Kreideprinz. [Y/N] was new to the Knight of Favonius, started back a few weeks ago. Today he was ordered by the Acting Grand Master to assist the Captain of the Investigation Team in one of his experiments. Or alternatively, Jean worried about the alchemist not taking care of himself and potentially risking failed experiments turn to unwanted results in Dragonspine and Mondstadt.

It was his order to check on the man. But, by the Archons, does he had to camp this far up. [Y/N] groaned when he reached a broken bridge. How was he going to get to the other side? Ah, right. Gliding. With a good running start, he could jump just high enough and glide his way to the other half of the fallen bridge with no added injuries. A flawless plan.

Not.

A scream left his lips when he jumped as best as he could after his run. No wonder he did terrible at mathematics. His calculations were off. And now, he was going to pump down to his end. Just to check on some big-time, smart guy. [Y/N] should had decline. But he wanted to prove himself. For what now? Prove he can see the light firsthand? What a joke. He reached out, his hand inches away from the other broken part of the bridge. He was so focus on reaching something to grab on he didn't hear his own scream leave his mouth nor the abrupted tug on his hand held by another. He came to his senses when he smacked against the wall under the brigde harshly, letting out a groan. [Y/N] looked up. [E/C] eyes met bright teal eyes. Such beautiful eyes. It felt like he was staring into emerald instead. They outshined the blues around Dragonspine. Like sun if the clouds ever go away.

"Are you only going to keep staring or help me pull you up?" He heard, the soothe voice snapping [Y/N] out of their thoughts. A blush bloomed on his face as he cleared his throat, using his other hand to keep himself firm in their hold.

"S-Sorry..." [Y/N] mumbled as he was pulled up. Solid, cold ground was what he felt right away. He looked over his shoulder, grimacing at the sight of the long fall he could had experienced first and last. Cursing the fall away, the knight turned back to his savior, about to thank them until he stopped himself. Upon closer look, his savior was... handsome. Their ashy light blonde hair reached below their shoulders, pulled back in a braided ponytail. It lookes adorable. Soft, even. It makes him want to run his fingers through it. Realizing he was staring again, [Y/N] cleared his throat as he shook his head, his blush increasing in color. Eyes darted to stare at the ground instead. "Uh, thank yo-you... Thank you for saving me back there." The knight said with a small smile, looking back his savior only to see them walk away already. "What?" [Y/N] sat there forzen, not believing what happened. He chuckled weakly, now pissed for the rude manner. "Hey, wait up!" He stood up from the ground, dusting himself off from any snow as he ran up to catch up to the mystery person. "You know, it's really rude to jusf walk away like that!" [Y/N] complained, slowing down as he came up to a campsite. His eyes widen a bit. There were bookshelves lined up again the walls of the cavern. Tables filled with written pages and materials. A small set of art supplies in one area and an crafting table by his side. Did his savior lived here? Wait, was this...?

"Are you the Captain of the Investigation Team, Albedo?" The knight said, walking up to the alchemist who simply nodded with no reply. He was focused on his work, [Y/N] could see that. "Oh okay..." He muttered underneath his breath, raising a brow. Well, here he was. The alchemist looked alright. There was no sight of any failed experiments. Mondstadt was good to stay for another day. But [Y/N] wasn't leaving yet. "My name is [F/N]. I was ordered by the Acting Grand Master to check on you... Which is why I'm here..." Albedo only gave a faint hum. What a conversationalist. "Okaaay..." The young man looked around. He couldn't just leave after what he just experienced. He was still shaky.

"Where are you from?" [Y/N] asked, attempting to make a conversation.

"Here and there." Albedo replied bluntly.

"What do you do?"

"This and that."

"You ever-"

"Now and then."

"Gosh, you're just full of information." [Y/N] grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And you're just full of interruptions." Albedo fired back, finally looking away from his work and turned to the knight. His expression was stoic but his beautiful emerald eyes held a hint of annoyance. His comment made the other man pouted and rolled his eyes. "You done your quest. Now, you may leave."

"What the-? Huh?" He couldn't believe it. He was being kicked out? Reasonable, actually. But still. What a rude alchemist. "Okay, look, I have to actually make sure you're okay and Jean said to stay for a few days before I return, anyway." [Y/N] explained. Albedo sighed softly, disinterested from the interaction. The knight clicked his tongue. "So, no, I'm not leaving." The knight huffed, head held high. Albedo hummed again, already looking back at his work. "Oh my- really?" [Y/N] shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He kept studying the area they were in, trying to locate any sort of self-care going on. There was a cook pot but the burned woods look as if it had went out hours ago. "How long had you been working?"

Albedo shrugged, papers being moved around in his area. [Y/N] sighed. He went to stand beside the table, inches away from him to not disturb his work. With the closeup, [Y/N] saw fainted dark circles under his eyes. He looked a little pale, too.

"Have you eaten at all? Rest?" He asked softly, a frown on his face. His gloved hands rest on his waist. [Y/N] looked like a parent scolding their child. Albedo shrugged again. The knight groaned, head tilted back. The lack of responses were starting to pissed him off. "I'll make you something." He grumbled, looking into his traveling bag as he walked over to the pot. Using his Pryo vision, he watched the flames come to alive once more. He pulled out pre-packaged ingredients he made himself before he set off.

Albedo's concentration was fully on his project but the smell of a delicious meal wandered around his nose. It pulled him out of his priority. The scent made his stomach growled. The Geo user stopped what he was doing and turned around. His eyes spotted the knight crouched down beside the pot, stirring around the contents it cooked. The flames illuminated the small cave, the knight's face glowed from it. Hair swayed back, half-lidded eyes stared boredly at the pot. Soft lips pressed into a thin line. It was a pretty sight. A perfect picture. A gorgeous paint on a canvas. His canvas. The scenery needed to be painted in his canvas.

[Y/N] heard movements behind him but he didn't bother to look up. He figured the alchemist was still all over his experiments. Behind his back, Albedo set up his easel, an 18x24 canvas rest nicely on it. His paints, brushes, and palette laid beside him on a stool with a cup of water on it as well. He began to sketch out the sight, a concentrated frown on his face.

"Hmm... I think it's done." [Y/N] muttered to himself, smiling a bit at the cooked stew he made. He was about to get up but a shout stopped him.

"Don't move! I'm not done yet." He heard the alchemist. The Pyro user blinked, confusion written over his face. "Not done..." Albedo continued, his hand moving a brush around. [Y/N] swallowed, wondering what he was doing.

"Why can't I move?" He asked, still in the position.

"Because I'm not finish."

"Finish with what?"

"The painting... It's not finished..." Albedo trailed off, focusing more on the canvas. [Y/N] was dumbfounded. Ah, right. The alchemist had a set of art supplies. But why could he be painting? Was he painting him? He was just sitting around the cook pot, nothing else. What did he capture in his mind to had the urge to paint? So much questions ran through his head and his face rest back to how it was when the knight stared at the pot. Just what Albedo needed to complete his new piece.

Half an hour passed and the flames were small. the pot was sat beside it. No need to have burnt food. [Y/N]'s legs were starting to cramp.

"Are you do-"

"Done." Albedo finished for him, stepping back from his canvas. [Y/N] sighed in relief as he stood up and stretched his limps out, hearing a few joints popped. Surely didn't sounded good but felt good. He walked over to Albedo.

"Can I see, please?" He asked, tilting his head. Albedo stared at the canvas before shifting his eyes over to the knight. He suddenly felt flustered. What a foreign feeling. It was he was embarrassed. He was not embarrassed. His face felt warmed. Was he blushing? What was going on? [Y/N] waited for an answer, raising a brow as he sent a charming smile his way. Why did such a gesture made his chest tightened but in a good way? Like something fluttered inside him. Was his heart beat increasing? Impossible. Feelings were unfamiliar to him. So, why was he experiencing them right now? "Albedo..." His name rolled out of his mouth. It sounded perfect. Did he just noticed it?

"It's not finished..." Albedo replied quickly, throwing [Y/N] off guard.

"But you said-"

"It's not finished." Albedo repeated, clearing his throat. The knight nodded slowly.

"Okaay..." [Y/N] mumbled, looking back at the pot. "Ah, well, dinner is ready. C'mon, let's eat." He said, walking back at the pot to begin serving the meal for both. Albedo watched him, lips parted slightly. His teal eyes moved back to the canvas. Finished. It was finished. He just... didn't want to show the knight but why? It was beautifully painted. A pretty piece. The look he captured from the knight painted there. Admirable.

"Are you coming or what?" [Y/N] called out, already setting the other table for them to eat at. Albedo blinked and nodded a second later. He placed his brush and palette down, taking his gloves off as he made his way over. There they sat. In complete silence. It wasn't awkward, fortunately. It was comfortable atmosphere. No need to exchange words. Albedo seem to like that. Perhaps Jean did a good thing to sent someone out. It felt nice to have company over for once.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #x reader #x male reader #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x male reader #primal writes

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