#I think I have been forgetting to use that tag on all of the renders so I will attempt to go back and fix that at some point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchlessdino · 1 year

Note

hey, i’m back. recently i’ve been in my chanrot era so if you could please write a daddy kink chan smut i would really appreciate it. also thank you for the he mingyu smut, i was freaking out inside.-🎧

Pairing: bf!chan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, light fluff

Word count: 2.1k

tags: initial reluctance (lighthearted), blossoming established relationship, daddy kink (initially just Chan), slight degradation, reader has tits, mentions of voice kink, asphyxiation, wall sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay

Summary: You've heard of dadless behaior but what is daddy behavior? You found it unlikely that the answer would be right under your nose. Better yet, already balls deep inside you.

author note: hiii, I'm back. and what a way to be back than to finish up a dino request. SK was amazing, everything was new and exciting. I'd be happy to answer any travel questions or if you wanna just pop in my inbox, I’ll graciously respond. I missed you guys <3

P.s. to 🎧 bestie I’m so glad you enjoy Mingyu’s fic and I hope you enjoy this one too!

He had you by your throat, cock plunged balls deep in your cunt, slamming into your cervix with every calculated thrust. A pool of arousal soaked into your bed sheets as your shallow breaths barely escaped. His upper body weight pins you stomach down on the mattress and his gaze falls on you, emitting unadulterated power. Lost in the world he’s created, he feels you shudder beneath him while you desperately call out to him in your beautifully strained voice.

A smug smile hangs low from his lips. “That’s right. What’s my name?”

“Daddy?”

You sputter, coughing on your own loud laughter as your boyfriend stares back at you with an unamused face in part to your reaction. This was how you initially reacted to the request of his suggested name in bed, pale in comparison to the idea of a reaction Chan had in mind when he thought to bring it up to you. He could only huff in annoyance as you doubled over on your stomach in playground laughter.

“Come on. It’s not funny. Just say you’ll try it out with me.” He whines.

“You think begging is daddy behavior?” The teasing persists with tears in your eyes.

He sighs in relinquishment before pulling himself up from the bed, his bare torso feeling the draft of the conditioned air as his eyes glaze over in the direction of the shared bathroom. “Forget it.”

“Wait, Chan.” You stretch out your arm to claim his wrist in your grip. Your laughter falters seeing the genuine disappointment in his eyes, forcing you to render yourself to a calmer manner, aiming to uplift his spirits, “Come on. I’m just playing. Don’t be upset.”

He scoffs, “The love of my life is laughing at me, in my face, how am I supposed to take it?”

“I’m not laughing at you,” you pull him back onto the bed, “Just…daddy? Really?”

“Yes, really. It wouldn’t hurt to try once.” He says in an utterly soft tone, and you feel your hard shell melt all at once.

Chan is many things. A good friend, a doting boyfriend, and an amazing lover (at least from what you could tell since you only started to have sex recently). ‘Daddy‘ was…different from what you were used to, and frankly just seemed uncharacteristic for Chan.

“Aw, love,” you run your hand through his hair, those pretty eyes looking back at you in a brew of longing and lust, “You’re so sweet and sexy as is. It’s…overdone. Why would you want to be called something like that anyway?”

“I’m curious. I mean…your voice is so pretty I wanna hear how you say it.” He whispers, and that alone causes whatever is in your stomach to do flips.

You roll your eyes in defeat, a love-struck grin on your face, and tug his arm to have it buried between your exposed breasts, their warmth causing a flutter in Chan’s chest. You tuck your chin on his shoulder, looking at him wide-eye, batting your lashes at him in keen interest. “Well. If…daddy…could tell me what this entails, I may just be a bit more interested.”

He digs his teeth in his bottom lips, pleased, and takes a hand to the side of your jaw to trace over it. His soft baritone voice drops an octave and his eyes narrow at you, “It can be whatever my baby desires.”

Your eyes glint from the reflection of the sun peaking through the bedroom window and bouncing off the vanity mirror. The corner of your lips turns up in a small smile, “How would me calling you daddy make things anymore different from what we already have?”

His hand smooths over from your cheek to trail over your shoulder and settles on your hips beneath the sheets. He presses his smile against your forehead, ghosting over your skin to do the same to the tip of your nose, just as delicately, and finally tucking them in the pillowy texture of your lips. You purse your lips to deepen the kiss, but he kisses you just as swiftly as he pulls away. He watches you through his heavy eyelids, seeing how your lips twitch at the loss of his presence, silently laughing to himself.

“Cute.”

How quickly he takes you by surprise by slamming back in the sheets, your eyes shooting back open immediately, heart pounding out of your chest. His hips gradually dip into yours, the outline of his bulge imprinting into your thigh, and you feel one of his hands creep down to the thin fabric of your underwear. A corner of his lips perks up feeling your anticipation soak through and create a thin film between the pads of his fingers.

“Wet? So early? I hardly done anything.” He snickers.

You let out a small whine, hand cupped over his cheek, thumbing its texture, “Can’t help it…daddy.”

He rubs into the fabric, tracing along your slit repeatedly until both his middle and index were evenly coated, your hips shifting beneath him, helplessly under his control. He hears how your breathing got more irregular. A shift of focus is obvious within you and you could only do one thing at a time; breathe or enjoy the show. Lucky for you, he’d make it an easy choice.

“Well,” he draws his face close to hover over your ear, smiling wide as he says, “too bad you don’t get to cum.”

He pulls his hands away from your body, sticking his fingers in his mouth and retreating to the bathroom giggling. You sit up from the bed in disbelief, throwing the covers back on your body, “Chan! Really?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have laughed.”

Chan would be proud to know that you were eating your words. He was all you could think about for the rest of the day. His eyes and their allure, then his arms and their strength. You craved his attention, crossing one leg over the other, suppressing your innermost desires of him feasting on you like thanksgiving dinner. The hours of the day would drone on, and you were counting the second of every minute until you’d finally be reunited back home after a long day’s work.

You needed it, especially from that morning, which would only replay countless times in your mind. Heat running to the apples of your cheeks remembering his musk, you felt a teenager again thinking about their crush as they passed the hallways. It seems as though he was no better as his hands were immediately on you the moment you greet him. Your hips parallel to one another, your wrists pinned above your head against a wall, and his heavy breath ghosting over your jaw. The scene brought a familiar shiver down your back, like a return of an old friend.

“Well, don’t you look pretty?”

The shape of his cock knocks at the surface of your core, gripping your wrists single-handedly, and drawing shapes on your skin with his lips, feeling you swallow from the base of your neck.

“Daddy, please…”

“What,” he taunts, tightening his grip, “what does my baby want?”

You gulp, “Fuck, daddy. I want you so much.”

You spoke from the pit of your stomach, clenching your abdomen as he presses up against you closer, already unbuttoning the top of your slacks.

“What a dirty mouth you have.”

He abrasively tugs them off you, hands slipping underneath your underwear and feel proof of your words. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding.”

The obscenities that’d leave your lips the moment you felt his middle finger dip inside your warmth made Chan prideful. His eyes bore into yours while his fingers worked inside you, slightly lifting you off the ground.

“God, I could fuck you here and you’d be happy about it, wouldn’t you?”

He pours every ounce into his hands, your body uncontrollably sliding erratically over the wall, “Mmh, daddy, yes.”

“Such a good slut. All for me.”

He fucks into faster, the spillage falling to even down his forearm, you achingly gorgeous sounds of pleasure playing surround sound in his ears. He muffles them against his lips, hiking up your legs to embrace him as you leverage against the wall behind you, thrusting his still-clothed lower body into you. God, he wants to fuck you like a used-up rag doll.

“Fuck, daddy…you fingers…”

He slowly their pace, pumping them at controlled force in every interval. His sweat-damp hair reached his eyes, meeting your dumb-fucked gaze, “Yeah, yeah, they good?”

You choke on a breath as you feel him thrust inside deeper, “F-fuck, yes…”

You vibrated around him and he knew he couldn’t take it anymore. He holds you to the wall with his upper body but soon bares his lower body. His length teases your slit before his fingers flick at your pussy so suddenly, causing you to wince with a soft moan to follow.

“You think you can take me up against this wall, like a good little slut? Hmm?” He slaps them again.

“Mm, daddy, please. I want it…I want your cock in me…”

A smug grin takes over before he watches it swallow inside you, pushing his filthy fingers in your mouth, defiling you in both his favorite ends. He drags his mouth over your nipples, hard to the touch, and readily available after your top was the first thing you undressed for him before he put you in such a situation. Squeezing them in a free hand, he mouths over it starved, flicking his tongue and sucking as if he was raging with thirst.

His hands were now knuckle-deep in your mouth, hips lacking in remorse, and your gasping for breath would otherwise be concerning, but in this case, indicated the ravenous sin that took over your body, coating your tongue with your taste. He takes out his hand to wrap them around your throat, watching the sanity leave your body as he fucks you until pure submission. You were more object than human at this point. Yet, you felt so alive.

Your body was not used to something like this. You felt flushed at the touch, ecstasy mainlining in your veins, screaming a name you wouldn’t even say in your dreams, now rolling off your tongue like water flowing through a river. “Daddy, daddy, daddy—”

“I’m right here baby…You’re taking me so fucking well,” he groans.

“Daddy, more, daddy…”

“More? More?” He teases.

“Please daddy.” You spoke from the depth of your throat, feeling him return with more speed, knocking your ass back into the wall.

A manic smile spreads across your face and you gasp out in excitement, clutching around him until you could feel your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Yes, fill me, daddy. I want my pussy full of your cum.”

“You know just what to ask for, hmm? You want daddy’s load inside you?”

“Yes, daddy’s cum, please…”

Chan was growing tired but not of you, never of you. “You think you’ve been good enough for me to deserve it?”

You nod rapidly, “I’ve been so, so, so, so good. I want it. I deserve it.”

“Okay, well you better hold on tight. I have no plans to give you mercy.”

He takes either one of your legs to his side and you oblige, holding on to him as he delivers his promise. Your head knocks back into the wall rhythmically with no delay. His lips plant against yours naturally, harshly claiming your kiss and chewing on your bottom lip to sustain his momentum. Your hands ran through his hair, over his back, clawing at his ass; your orgasm wasn’t far along your path.

Your hips jerk against him, clenching his full length in your walls, vibrating to the kiss, unknowingly dripping so far past his thigh until practically reached his knees. He follows soon after. Thick warmth paints your insides one coat, a second coat, and then a third, but does not stop the man from pushing it deeper back into you, spilling into the floor without a second thought.

He ruts into you until you’re spent, which seems like it’ll never be the case at that point, and even carries you to the bedroom to use you again and again. Chest to sheet, your head being held up by his hand on squeezing the base of your neck, and your ass in the air fitted against his cock and torso. You could practically hear the echo of skin slapping and human suction bouncing off your walls. His stamina felt endless and you loved every restless second. As did Chan, realizing your answer to his questions and demands was a joy like no other.

“Ask again. Do you find this to be daddy behavior?”

“Yes, daddy.”

#dino smut #seventeen smut #lee chan smut #chan smut #lee chan #dino #seventeen #seventeen dino #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #dino fanfic #dino x reader #chan fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n

624 notes · View notes

cantwritethetword · 2 months

Text

Shut up, Merlin!

Fic Descript: Arthur learns the hard way that Merlin is very talented in the art of revenge after the king gets stuck wrapped in the drapes of his bed.

~A/N - HEY ANON I TOLD YOU I HAD A MERLIN FIC IN THE WORKS !!!

I thought of this concept like AAAAAAGES ago and thought it was super funny and perfect for our little dynamic duo.

I have been absolutely vibing while on medication for my ADHD it's so nice to just be able to ✨start things✨ ?? and then, leave those things and ✨return later ✨?? and not have to drag myself to the finish line ?? crazy

- Enoy! ~

Tag List:

Masterpost Link

Merlin and Arthur would die for each other.

There was no question about it. And they had come pretty close to it on multiple occasions. Whether it be facing trolls, witches, wildren, or mortal humans, both would take a sword to the heart for the other if the need arose.

If no danger was in sight, however, they would gladly throw each other under (the medieval equivalent of) the bus.

The pair had been out hunting, and a rather unsuccessful hunt at that. Arthur was in piss-poor form, which meant Merlin took every opportunity to run his mouth (and annoy the king further). They were making their way back to the castle, Arthur leading the way and Merlin trotting along behind.

"-do you remember when you missed that deer that was riiight in front of you?" Merlin asked, his face would suggest innocence but his tone proved he was trying to piss Arthur off.

"Shut up Merlin." Arthur replied flatly.

"And what about that time you were aiming for that huge bird?" Merlin continued. "But it flew off before you even had the chance to line up your bow?"

Arthur glared directly forwards, to no-one in particular. "Shut up, Merlin."

The men turned their horses off the beaten path and onto a lesser known shortcut through the thick forest back to Camelot.

Partially to clear the path, and partially to vent his frustration, Arthur swung his sword in front of him to clear some of the vines blocking their way. Perhaps the thickness of the foliage would deter Merlin from any more snide comments, and make him focus more on directing his horse through the areas too thick for Arthur to break.

Surprise surprise, Merlin continued as before. "And the rabbit- oh the knights are never going to let you forget that you lost a sword fight to an unarmed bunny-".

"Shut up Merlin!" Arthur groaned, wiping his face with his hands to try and wipe Merlin's voice from his brain.

"But we haven't even got to the-"

Merlin's taunt was interrupted by a sudden quiet, one that Arthur whispered silent praise to. "Have you finally taken my advice?"

When his servant didn't reply, Arthur slowed his horse. The now unnerving silence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and at the faint rustle of vegetation Arthur whipped his head round and drew his sword - prepared to leap from his horse and engage with whatever potential threat may have overpowered his friend.

But the moment his eyes caught sight of what made the rustle, Arthur burst into laughter.

Merlin hung a few metres behind his dismounted horse, completely tangled in the green ropes. The tautness of the plant rendered him almost immobile, a fact that was well demonstrated by his fruitless wriggling.

"Now," Arthur said with a grin, his previous sour mood turned completely upside down. "What was that you were saying about the knights not letting us forget things? Because I think they'd love to hear about this."

Merlin's glare shot daggers in Arthur's direction. "Hah hah." He said sarcastically. "Now help me down you ass."

Climbing off his horse, Arthur threw his sword into the dirt and sat on a nearby fallen tree. His grin eating more shit than a dung beetle.

Merlin scoffed. "Really? You're just going to sit there."

Arthur shrugged. "I've worked hard enough on this hunt, I think I deserve to have a bit of entertainment."

Merlin rolled his eyes and writhed further, pulling at the greenery with all his might before giving up and letting his body go limp.

"You're really not going to get me out of this?" He asked sincerely, a hint of annoyance still hiding at the back of his throat.

"You're a big boy Merlin." Arthur grinned cockily, stifling a chuckle. "You can do it."

With another roll of his eyes, Merlin continued to wrestle against the vines. But it seemed no matter which way he pulled, somehow he kept tightening the bounds that kept him suspended a few metres above the floor. He couldn't even use his magic with Arthur watching him this closely.

"You know Merlin, I think if you'd just relax you would have been free by now." Arthur continued.

Merlin made a few disgruntled noises before continuing to wriggle in the plants.

After a few minutes, Arthur stretched his arms dramatically. "I could take a nap by the time you've finished."

"Do it then." Merlin muttered under his breath. "Lazy ass."

Ignoring Merlin's comment, Arthur folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.

The warlock scoffed, before taking his opportunity to mutter a quick spell and free himself from the godforsaken foliage.

Unfortunately, he freed himself a little too eagerly, and left his body weight with nothing to support it. He toppled from the web of vines directly into a substantially deep patch of mud underneath him.

Arthur cackled at the sight, clapping his hands once before standing up and mounting his horse again. "Come on then."

Merlin grunted, dragging his feet through the ankle-deep sludge to where his horse was patiently waiting.

"I feel sorry for your saddle." Arthur grinned behind him. "Having all that dirt smeared over it."

Merlin shot him a glare. "And I feel sorry for yours, having your arse squashing it."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur quipped back a retort. "At least I'm not the one who has to clean it."

"I doubt you'd know where to start."

Early the next morning, before even the sun was up, Merlin snuck into the royal chambers. Not an unfamiliar process by this point, though usually it had far less exciting intent. This was not about cleaning, or polishing, or even returning stolen goods.

This was about revenge.

Focusing his attention on the sleeping king, Merlin swiped his eyes to the drapes of the bed at the top two corners, chanting an incantation. The fabric wound and tied itself around Arthur's wrists - perfectly balanced between holding firm without cutting off his blood flow. Then came the bedsheets themselves, winding around the bottom bedposts and around Arthur's legs with a similar spell.

Smirking to himself, Merlin slinked away to the furthest point of the room. Giving himself a mindless task of busywork to wait for Arthur to waken.

After what felt like hours, there was movement. At first, the sounds of a half-sleeping grunt and a rough attempt at turning himself over came from Arthur's bed. Then, a slightly bewildered collection of mumbles and tugs to the material. Before finally,

"WHAT THE-?" Arthur bellowed, thrashing in the binds. "MERLIN!"

Deciding to take this moment to make himself known, Merlin popped his head from around the corner. "Morning sunshine."

"Merlin." Arthur breathed an exasperated sigh of relief, before continuing his brash tone. "Get me out of here!"

Merlin smirked at his friend. "Oh but I've got a long day of work ahead, I feel I deserve some entertainment."

Arthur glared at him. "Merlin. Get. Me. Out."

Just to rub the situation in, Merlin sat on the lower half of the bed (where Arthur couldn't reach) with his legs crossed, letting his chin fall on his hands - eager to watch the show.

Realising his manservant was going to be absolutely no help, Arthur began thrashing again, tugging at the drapes of his bedframe with little success.

"You know," Merlin suggested. "If you'd just relax, maybe you'd get out."

"I can't relax!" Arthur cried indignantly. "I am stuck, and hungry - I haven't even had breakfast! I'm wasting away-"

"Oh you're fine." Merlin laughed, poking Arthur's exposed side.

Arthur shrieked and recoiled (as best as the bedding would allow), internally cursing his decision to sleep without a shirt on. He locked eyes with his manservant, watching the cogs tick momentarily in Merlin's brain.

"Oh~?" Merlin grinned. "What's this?"

"Merlin I swear to you..." Arthur threatened, trying his best to keep his composure. "I will throw you in the stocks if you come any closer."

Merlin shrugged. "You've done worse." And crawled closer.

"I'll have you executed!" Arthur's voice was beginning to break with nerves.

Merlin laughed briefly. "You wouldn't survive without me."

Pulling himself together, Arthur called upon his most serious, kingly, threatening tone. "I'll ban you from the tavern!"

Merlin rolled his eyes, before clambering behind his friend - reveling in the freedom he had to really draw out the anticipation.

"Guahards!" Arthur shrieked, a bark of laughter breaking up his command as he twisted as far away from Merlin as he could. "Help!"

"Oh they can't hear you." Merlin grinned, noting the way Arthur almost seemed to relax at that statement. Perhaps the king needed this more than he did.

Either way, Arthur was royally screwed.

Merlin's spindly fingers began climbing up Arthur's sides, making the king jolt and yelp with every touch. Even when all he could see was Arthur's reddening ears, Merlin knew Arthur's face was scrunched as tightly as possible - avoiding even the smallest semblance of a smile.

Surprisingly, as Merlin's hands climbed higher, Arthur's breathing relaxed. The tension in his muscles remained, not allowing himself the risk of letting out so much as a snicker, but clearly his ribs and armpits weren't where Merlin should be focusing.

Following the cues of his victim friend, Merlin let his hands drag down over the curves of Arthur's love handles. Instantly, the king's breathing hitched - bingo.

Continuing the previously-built anticipation, Merlin slowly scraped his blunt fingernails against Arthur's skin, pulling his digits from splayed out to centered on the king's sides. Arthur was practically vibrating at this point with the pure effort of keeping his reactions at bay. Desperately gripping at the tough-guy facade with a pained grimace on his face, he pulled at the drapes his limbs were caught in at violent, random intervals.

"You're allowed to smile, you know." Merlin teased right in his friend's ear, adding a little more pressure to transition into light poking.

Arthur yelped in reaction, before grunting - as if to remind Merlin that Arthur was the King of Camelot, far too tough for something as childish as being ticklish.

Unfortunately, he had a little shit of a man-servant. And someone who knew exactly what to do to get him to crack a smile.

"Huh, maybe His Majesty the King isn't ticklish after all..." Merlin proclaimed, watching Arthur's cheek twitch into a stifled (but amused) grin, before clawing his hands against Arthur's sides.

Arthur's body seized, pulling against the fabric holding him in place so tightly Merlin thought the bedframe might snap, before slumping into Merlin's tickly grasp.

And the sweetest, most childish giggles Merlin had ever heard bubbled out of Arthur's mouth.

"Meh-meh-meherlihin!" Arthur gasped between bouts of soft laughter. "Wahahait!"

"Oh?" Merlin raised an eyebrow (not that Arthur could see). "Are you ticklish, Arthur?"

Arthur ducked his head to his shoulder. "Shuhuhut up Meherlin!"

It was at this moment, Merlin realised that while Arthur was occasionally pulling on the binds, it didn't seem intentional. Arthur only seemed to really pull with one hand, and not even to protect himself.

It seemed he was only focused on covering his (now bright red) face... Interesting.

"What's the matter?" Merlin beamed, peeking his head around next to Arthur's. "It can't tickle that badly."

"Meherlin!" Arthur's eyes widened with a flustered laugh, before flicking his head in the other direction. "Shuhuht uhuhup!"

Merlin laughed. "You're one to talk about shutting up Mr Giggles."

Arthur's cheeks burned even brighter - the poor guy looked more flustered than Merlin had ever seen him before. At this point Merlin was having more fun teasing the king than actually tickling him.

Though by this point, Arthur was almost getting used to the clawing at his love handles, so Merlin decided to swap techniques and start squeezing at Arthur's hip bones.

Turns out, Arthur has the perfect layering of fat and muscle for Merlin to drill his fingers all the way into the king's hips without pain - just a hell of a lot of tickling.

Arthur screeched, and though his breathing became more frantic and his struggling became more erratic, the bubbly giggles from before sounded just as carefree (just a little less gentle).

"Meher- nohohoho- meherlin wahahait!" Arthur cackled, his face in a permanent beam.

"Well isn't this just adorable." Merlin teased, pitter-pattering his fingers over Arthur's stomach before returning to the king's hips. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

"Shuhuhut uhup meheherlin!"

Merlin grinned at his friend, finally deciding to show mercy. Poor Arthur was nearing exhaustion, and he still had a full day of training with the knights ahead of him.

With a swift, inconspicuous mutter, Merlin loosened the drapes holding Arthur hostage. It took the king a few moments to finally realised he could free himself, and he escaped with a little less hurry than Merlin expected.

But even after Arthur's breathing returned to normal, and the flush had almost faded from his face, Arthur still had a massive grin splitting his cheeks and his arms folded over his eyes.

Merlin stood off the bed and let his friend lie there for a few moments, waiting for the usual threat or sarcastic quip that followed their usual banter sessions.

"Will that be all, my lord?" Merlin grinned, moving towards the door (and hoping to provoke some sign of life out of the guy.)

Arthur just giggled again. "Shuhut up Merlin."

#crow's tickle fic #merlin tickle fic #lmao I wrote half of this in the ER on a monday night #life be crazy but tkls persist #also I'm trialing out adding descriptions to fics so let me know what you think!

25 notes · View notes

chipped-chimera · 11 months

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY - 21/06/23

(I mean it’s technically Friday now between timezones and spoons but have this otherwise I’ll keep forgetting) My first WIP Wednesday! Thanks @theviridianbunny for the tag! I’ve been really getting stuck into modding - as well as falling into my usual mod habit of ‘start like six project at once and end up with a million WIP files' but I guess I’ll talk about the major ones.

Graphic design is my passion ...

(Long) rambling about mods I'm making + things I've learned below the cut~

My V’s tatt project is still ongoing, and I’ve (somewhat begrudgingly) been trying out Substance Painter to work on bits of it, mainly polishing seams between UV maps. It’s definitely got a lot of benefits, especially for graphic placement in really tricky areas (like anywhere in the entire head mesh region for example) but I still think a lot of the heavy work will still be done in Photoshop so I’ll probably be writing up both experiences with them when I do that tutorial I keep hinting at for complex tatt work. I’ve started drafting a tumblr tutorial but I wonder if that’s the best format, maybe a PDF? Google doc? Github wikis look cool? (tho I think I need to pay for that) - if y’all got suggestions for tutorial formats pls let me know!

As for the other arguably overly-ambitious-project-where-I-bit-off-more-than-I-could-chew ...

H A I R.

Hair has been the bane of my existence for about the past week( ... weeks? Maybe two?), most of it involving cursing, a lot of reverse-engineering game meshes and smashing my head against blender. But if not already evident from my monowire post - I am a stubborn bitch with too much time on my hands so even though there were at least two moments where I wanted to curl up on the floor under my desk and just stay there - we got there.

This all started because my favourite hair mod which I cannot split from my V’s identity was acting funky and the shape of it had been altered since a physics update. It wasn’t her anymore. So I needed new hair. I tried editing the existing hair. I tried importing the old hair mesh. I tried so many things and they didn’t work out one way or they threw a million errors or there were an obnoxious amount of verts.

I even tried looking for replacement mod hair. None of them fit, all of them felt too ‘clean’ for my V. So I just concluded: FINE. I’ll make my own damn hair. From scratch. At least then I’ll actually KNOW what’s going on with the mesh, right?

Problem with hair is tutorials are very limited in respect to Cyberpunk, so I had to learn a lot of this by myself and looking at other processes used for building game hair. I’ve had a previous stint in game design at uni but it was very introductory and more broad-strokes concepts not specific stuff like what ‘real time hair’ is and how you actually go about placing hair-cards (there’s a million different ways btw) but after another 3 days smashing my head against blender I finally got shit to work to a satisfactory level using hair tools for blender and the particle hair grooming system (not the 3.5 blender system, maybe more on that at some point).

Putting together the hair cards I was 120% convinced this was going to blow up in my face, primarily through vert count. But this hair tool plugin? Alarmingly efficient. I was frequently checking my work against Alt's hair mesh (one I was planning on rigging to) and here's the final-ish stats -

This is with only Alt's hair mesh selected (no cap) and then only my mesh(s - lots of layering to build it up), and by comparison I felt I'd built up the density of a chinchilla. This is not a brag, this is mostly genuine confusion over how efficient this plugin is, all I did was smack around hair curves. It did all the UV mapping junk on the fly.

Although structurally complete, I still consider this a WIP (yes I know there's a reeeeal fun vert funkiness in that second render, it's been fixed) since I'm having to go back and fine-tune some of the UV's the plugins mapped that I'm not happy with and generally figuring out my density problem because if anything, after putting it in-game it felt too dense.

Because yes, somehow I got it in game.

WITH. PHYSICS.

This may have driven me absolutely up the wall between having to learn blender from scratch then what the heck real time hair is and how that works etc. etc. but ... god, seeing her move back from the mirror and just feeling that instant catharsis of 'IT'S HER!' made it so. Damn. Worth it.

It looks too thick - this might be because I chucked in the 'doubled' feature Wolvenkit comes with because I hadn't spent any time doing backfaces. But it also might be because it's black? That's going to need investigating.

The physics need a lot of work too, I did a pretty rushed weight painting job last night on a merged version of the mesh because I was worried whether it was even viable and I'd already dumped an insane amount of hours into this between trying to salvage the old hair and building a new one (with some more bells and whistles. Mainly - curly). That wasn't without it's issues -

This almost fucking cracked me, given this was one of the issues I was experiencing before trying to fix an existing mesh mod. Turns out I was just being dumb and forgetting to export the armature, which I'd thought I wasn't supposed to do after having blender throw a bunch of errors on other hair attempts. I gave it a try after one last shot and boom. Worked. (I dunno what those errors were about man but now I know armature? very important).

Will I release this hair? no damn clue, depends on if I can get it to a level I feel is 'releasable'. I already know what I'm calling it though - Venatrix her side-handle I've decided on.

I look forward to adapting it into maybe a comb-back version, as well as a tied up version, so I can show off both her undercut + have the option of NOT hiding every damn tatt I've obsessed over placing on her neck haha.

In other news -

My much-needed wacom tablet replacement arrived (as well as other things I was looking forward to 👀) meaning my Wacom Cintiq, workhorse of ten years can finally enjoy her retirement. Her controls were getting funky, she had a few dead pixels but man. I'm convinced they won't make them like her ever again. Either way she's done unfortunately - upgrading my monitor to 2k made this painfully obvious. I don't think it's even running in full HD, it's that old. And with Phantom Liberty coming out this year? I'm probably going to need a new videocard and DVI compatibility isn't really a thing anymore.

So for future I think I'll just stick to the basic tablet set up, invest in screens. Also now I FINALLY know what her hair is gonna look like and with the tablet here, I can get back to work on the tattoo bodysuit.

Anyways, that's it for now! (Jesus Christ did you really read all of this? If you did you're a fucking trooper). Sorry for the extended ramble but MAN I did a lot, I needed to yell.

Till next time Chooms! Thanks again @theviridianbunny for the tag~ <3

Oh shit wait, have the blender renders before I forget because hahah I figured out how to do that too lol -

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 modding #my mods #wip wednesday #cyberpunk 2077 mods #kerytalk #god I am sorry this is a fucking essay but I had a lot to talk about I guess #one can do a lot in a week with nothing but the power of autistic hyperfocus and the love for one's OC blorbo ok

33 notes · View notes

warmhealerr · 3 days

Text

18+ - Minors Do Not Interact.

Adult content sometimes. Even if it weren't the case I just don't want minors here. My Instagram is not my Tumblr.

I am Barnabas, though you can also call me Barney! I use he/they pronouns interchangeably.

I'm a hobbyist who writes and draws. I am currently deep in a DND phase kickstarted by BG3. I am fond of all things Gith-, though Githyanki especially.

I am otherwise writing The City Of Dust aka TCOD (name to be changed) which I might post about from time to time. It has been my personal passion project for 7 years now.

If that information matters to you I am a French in France who stays awake at ungodly hours and wants out of here HAHA.

BOUNDARIES/"DNI"

I feel childish adding more to this section for some reason but it is necessary, so might as well get on with it.

I know how to curate my online experience like any other, and I also love dark media and kink, but I genuinely politely ask that you do not follow me (assuming you've read this) if you post or reblog fetish incestuous content. I like quickly checking and/or following people's blogs when it seems we've common interests! There's only so much curating I can do when someone with no specific warnings anywhere on their account does not tag it, which has been a more common occurrence than I'd prefer. Please and thank you.

No gen AI.

I otherwise block whoever I please for reasons completely unrelated to former points. My blog history and bio might give you insight as to what. I do not like people who revel in being the most shocking, mean spirited, judgemental and edgy in the room.

Finally, petty intercommunity validity discourse is the bane of my existence.

TAG INFO AND MORE UNDER THE CUT

NOTE 1

I suffer from serial social media liking disease. Apologies, I don't mean to spam/be obnoxious.

NOTE 2

I am ND and very mentally ill. My casual everyday (like you are reading right now) writing might be noticeably overcompensating, too cold, too warm, far too descriptive, or redundant alongside suffering at times from poor punctuation and vocabulary (though that is also on the fact English is not my first language). I am well aware though I'm trying to avoid awkwardness, sorry about that.

TUMBLR STUFF

ASKS

I welcome any ask no matter its content (that includes asks of an adult nature).

TAGS

I am God awful at tagging things even though I have been using Tumblr for at least 5 years now. I am especially forgetful when it comes to character or ship tags. This is an attempt at changing that.

#rambling for when I talk about... Nothing.

Feel free to request ship or character tags (as I usually forget them) in my ask inbox. My ship tag format usually goes #x/y.

I usually do not tag suggestive content (I just don't think about it, this blog is already 18+). I will tag explicit adult stuff with #nsft.

Content warning tags will use a single word, like #gore. This is to avoid typing gore cw instead of cw gore (for example) in case someone doesn't have that former tag iteration blocked.

I usually do not phobia tag (I might sometimes tag specific living beings like #bugs or #spiders. It is for archive navigation purposes but perhaps you could find it useful to hide them).

Feel free to request CW tags in my ask inbox.

MY TAGS

#myart for my visual art : from sketches to fully rendered, anything goes. I describe my rendered art for the visually impaired, and/or comprehensive visual clarity for an easier analysis. I usually do not describe sketches especially if posting a bunch of them.

My individual OC tags go "#charactername tag" for easy navigation purposes.

"#Fist of the Comet" additional tag for Ta'rath post BG3 campaign

"#underdark siblings" for Joufos/Oulmat/Zilkon, their other family members and Oulmat's patron.

#TCOD for TCOD (until name changes).

I will add more tags here once relevant. Thank you.

2 notes · View notes

applestruda · 1 year

Note

I might have asked you already, but where are you on the spectrum of "a million layers to draw every detail" to "one layer for the entire thing"? basically how many layers your average drawing takes

also re: your coloring post, i am once again begging you to tag/watermark your work esp when posting progress pics together bc yk im paranoid about theft and plagiarism <3

I really only use a handful of layers, I render all on the same layer, and such. When im going more into the messing with layer types is where I start to go up in numbers, but I probably never go too far above 10. Usually half that

Also ikik I have been making a conscious effort to watermark my stuff (I still forget). Like the finished one is watermarked, albeit not super noticeably. The different stages ig I didn't think about bc I was just saving it at certain steps considering that during the rendering process I loose layers like the sketch and flats ones bc I do it all on the same layer. And I save watermarking for last. So whoops

#hi bestie #also ik i should care more #nwnwnw #i just don't have a memory for it #struda responds #moot shenanigans

30 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year

Note

M! (I believe requests are still open?)

I 🩷 the Galdor fic you posted (!!!) and was curious if you'd be interesting in making a part 2 that's hella smutty? I would absolutely be interested in reading it >:3

Thank you, mellon nîn!!

Yes, mellon nîn, requests are open. Here is part two! Part one can be read here.

🌹Pairing: Galdor of the Tree x Fem. Reader (Second person POV)

🌹Themes: Smut | Soft

🌹Word count: 1.8k words

🌹Rating: 🔥🔥 Minors DNI | 18+

🌹Summary: Things sizzle deep within the gardens of the House of the Tree.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

Author's notes: I used Angel Oak as inspiration for "The Tree."

"The Tree" as it was called, was an oak tree said to be older than Gondolin itself. The gardens had been built all around it, and there it stood, tall and proud, its gnarled branches kissing the earth and its deep, golden leaves spreading all around in a giant canopy. The Tree was surrounded by even more oak trees, flowers, and butterflies fluttering about on thin, colorful wings. Galdor thought it perfect for what he had in mind.

And the things he had in mind. Wild and lustful things, things that would have made him blush on another day. Today was not just another day, and the time for blushes had long gone. He set you down beside the tree, his eyes never leaving yours. "Be sure you want this, little rose."

Your heart began to pound again when you took in the dappled sunlight that fell across his face, illuminating his soft and glorious green eyes and the red in his hair. A flush heated your cheeks when his luscious, bow-like lips curled into a smile, the kind that could make you forget your own words. And you nearly did, for the briefest of moments. Then you found your voice and placed your hands in his. You wanted this just as much as he did. "I want this," you said, closing your eyes when Galdor leaned in.

This kiss wasn't soft or light. This kiss smoldered and burned, rendering you dizzy and weak. You couldn't think or breathe, as wanting and hot pleasure struck like arrows, all true to their aim and pushing you ahead on pure instinct. You barely noticed it—his deft fingers working on the lacing of your dress, how it loosened at the shoulders. You helped him along, working on his cloak, his tunic, helping him slip out of them, the two of you giggling, red-cheeked and giddy, when boots and shoes refused to come off easily. It took a bit of a tumble along the grass before either of you was free.

And then he gathered you into his arms and kissed you again, with sweet, drugging kisses that left you trembling against him. He sank to his knees and pulled you down with him, having you straddle his lap. Large, trembling hands glided all over your face, your throat, and your body. The softness of your dress, the greater softness of your skin, and the sheer warmth and scent of it all made his head spin. His hands fumbled at your clothes, his nails digging at the fabric. Impatient, he just yanked at the cloth. There was a sharp rip and your dress tore under his hands.

Goosebumps rose and pricked when warm air danced over exposed skin. "M-my l-lord," you gasp sharply, both shocked and aroused at the same time. "M-my d-dress..."

Galdor dipped his head to the soft curves of your neck, his passions raging. "I will get you others," he promised, his hands busy yanking up your skirts, grazing your thighs. They felt so enticing under his touch, so shamelessly inviting, that what scrap of propriety and honour he had left crumbled to dust.

You sighed—a soft, shaky sigh—when your arousal started to pool between your thighs. "But how can I go back?"

"Use my cloak, little rose," he murmured, his tongue running up your throat. How wonderful you tasted, like warm, sunny days. "No one will know."

There was a sharp intake of breath when one arm hooked around your waist like a vise, the other sneaking in between your thighs. "B-but a-anyone who sees will kn-know," you whimpered, your body tensing when an elegant, tapered finger slipped into your already slick heat.

"What if they see?" Galdor challenged, "What can they say, little rose, hmm?" he questioned, his breath quickening, his lips gently sucking down over the hollow of your throat when your arms twined around his shoulders and your hands got all bunched in his hair. "What can anyone say?"

What can they say? You mused. You were Galdor's lady and his companion, and everyone knew it. They may think nothing of it, seeing you walking back home with him, garbed in his cloak. But still...

"I..." you tried to form a reply, trying to clear your head, but anything you tried to say just transformed into a soft moan instead. "Others may hear, m-my l-lord."

The world started to spin, little by little, making you dizzy and weak. A second finger joined the first, their thrusts slow and gentle, pushing as deep as they could, making you quiver, taking you higher and higher. When that skilled hand tightened its grip around your waist, when it toyed with you in all the ways that were so intimately familiar to both of you, you moaned, soft and oh so needy. Galdor relished it—the pretty, needy sounds that escaped your parted lips, the way you would keep tugging at his hair. Dreams of loving you like this haunted his every dream while he was away, and he took great care to enjoy every moment he had with you.

"Let them hear, little rose," he growled hoarsely, growing drunk on your mewls, your little whimpers, and your sharp gasps. His cock hardened when velvety walls contracted around his slickened fingers when your arms twined around his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin. It tugged at him, all of it, pulling him into a dark tunnel of desire, and oh, how he craved to hear more, to feel more. "I do not care. Now cry for me, little rose; let me hear how much you ache for me."

It felt like a dam had burst. Your moans spilled free, and the once quiet little grove filled with your cries. Galdor adored it—the intoxicating sounds you made, the sensation of your fingers raking over his skin. It undid him, pushed him to the brink. He pulled out of you and lowered you to the ground, to the soft grass, and moved over you, ripping what was left of your dress, your undergarments. His hot mouth sought your lips first with a kiss that nearly robbed you of breath. His kiss was hungry and demanding, his lips soft and so sweet, yet rough at the same time. You cleaved to him, barely able to think or breathe. All you could focus on was his kiss, his touch, and how his hand moved lower to cup your breast, his fingers deftly toying with an already taut bud, relentless and unyielding, leaving it tight and aching, before moving onto the other one. When that wasn't enough, when that couldn't satisfy, he pulled away, greedy for a taste.

This was nothing like the gentle, consummate lover you knew. Galdor marked you all over, his lips and teeth a pleasurable torment, his tongue laving, as if he wanted to taste every inch of you. And he did, moving his mouth over your slit, an arm over your belly, to stop you from moving. Your fingers dug into the soft earth when he pressed deeper between your thighs, your legs moving over to rest against his shoulders. The sensations that ripped through you were so much more—all fire and heat, and a surrendering that you felt right down to your very core. Never had he done something like this before, and the sheer pleasure of it, dark and wild, dragged you under.

Galdor lifted his eyes when you cried out, when you shook against the hungry demands of his mouth. The sight of your eyes closed, your back arching as you experienced unexplainable pleasure only filled him with a need to possess, to take even more. After ridding himself of his breeches, he moved back up i to your waiting arms.

How easy it was, to surrender into his arms, to the warm promise of his mouth. How easy it was to slide your legs open for him, to move them over his hips. And oh, how easy it was, taking him into your body and letting him sink into your warmth. Galdor moaned, slow and guttural, as you wrapped your arms around his waist and sheathed him. Propping himself on his elbow, he stopped, just to look at you for a moment.

How the shadows and light played across your face, your hair, and your eyes. It was perfect, how your skin glowed under those soft lights and shadows, how your eyes sparkled. And how you smiled up at him, as if in invitation. He moved then, slowly, deliberately, cautious restaint slowly transforming into wild abandon as his hips ground against your thighs, as your moans sounded off in perfect rhythm with his. Your fingers clawed at his back while his hooked around your thigh, digging into your skin, him pushing in harder, deeper, as if he was completely losing himself in you.

Your moans slowly turned into needy pleas. Please for him, for more of him, for him to go harder and faster, to take you over the edge. That hammered at him, listening to your desperate little cries, your jagged gasps.

"Those pleas of yours, little rose, those sounds you make," he managed, in a half-moan, half-whisper, "How I longed to hear them while I was away."

"Then you’re about to hear more" you said, pressing your starving lips to his in a deep and soulful kiss that blinded you to everything else.

There were no more words; there was no need for them. Feeling was all that mattered, and you felt it, your body slowly tensing, then shattering, as pure, unimaginable bliss washed over you. You clung to him, urging him to take, and take he did, lightning bolts of fire and heat firing through him as the tension in his body grew and grew before finally splintering, before coiled muscles snapped and he emptied himself into you, his body surrendering to a deep, thick haze of bliss.

A soft wind blew through the trees. The pretty little song of a bird could be heard. Branches moved with the wind, their leaves rustling sweetly. The sweet scent of flowers and new grass filled the air.

That blissful haze slowly lifted like the mist. Galdor took a deep, steadying breath, blinked open his eyes, and found yours beaming up at him. The grove then went quite again, blissfully quiet, and there was nothing to be heard but the wind still blowing through the trees and nothing to be seen but the butterflies and their silent wings.

And then there was you. Just you. The one thing that kept him going all that time apart. Galdor reached over to the cloak that had been discarded. He pulled it over you both and moved to his side, taking you with him, one arm under his head, the other holding you to him.

You ran your hand over his still-heaving chest, over the little bumps and lines that were so familiar to you. You looked up at him, at the warm smile that greeted you. "We don't have to go back just yet, do we?"

To go back meant that his time with you was growing a little shorter, that he would have to go back to his duties soon, and Galdor didn't want to do that, not for as long as he could manage.

"We can stay here for as long as you wish, little rose," he promised, and held you tighter.

tags: @asianbutnotjapanese | @fictionfordays

#Galdor #galdor of the trees #galdor x reader #galdor imagine #galdor smut #the silmarilion #The silm imagine #the silm smut #the silm x reader #x reader #reader request #reader insert #writeblr #a world of whimsy writes

24 notes · View notes

hwanswerland · 4 months

Text

Gifmaker wrapped 2023 ♡

I was tagged by @seonghwasblr @userwoosan @applejongho @yeofi @yunwooz @jeongyunho99 and @seonghwacore to link my most popular and/or favourite gifsets of each month.

Thank you dear mutuals and let us ignore that I'm an entire month too late to the party!! happy new year everyone, I hope January treated you well ❣️

2023 as a CC

well to be honest it wasn't really my year lol, I did not have a lot of time to gif and as the year went on I got more and more busy and stressed to the point where I didn't really enjoy being on here/giffing anymore, I just did it out of "obligation" I guess. Until even that became too much, but after a nice holiday this January I already feel a bit better and 2024 tour Hwa looks so good he kicked my ass back into gear (at least for a few moments). so let's see how 2024 is gonna go I suppose. I'm still so thankful for everyone who's ever been nice to me or complimented anything I made on here!! thank you mutuals and followers, it really means a lot to me <3

2023 Year in Review

under the cut! it was really fun looking at all of these again. There really were some memorable ones there, i think the most iconic one being Cyberpunk Seonghwa because he actually and without me exaggerating made me forget the english language and rendered me literally speechless for a few seconds. All of that happened while I was talking to someone... Not my proudest moment but for sure...something.

January

• most popular: hwa looking gorgeous

• favourite: Nugudo beoseonaji anneun yeogin under world

February

• most popular: 8 makes 1 meme

• favourite: hot tour hwa

March

• most popular: around 27 frames gifset

• favourite: same

April

• most popular: god tier hongjoong look

• favourite: ponytail hwa

May

• most popular: ateez scary rapline

• favourite: wonderland sword hwa

June

• most popular: woosanhwa pretty princesses

• favourite: grey/orange tour outfit hwa

July

• most popular: taemin at waterbomb

• favourite: same

August

• most popular: singer hwa

• favourite: same

September

• most popular: seongjoong promoting smth

• favourite: none lol

October

• most popular: ethereal ponytail hwa

• favourite: hwa on stage comp

November

• most popular: youtube live hwa being so pretty

• favourite: red outfit fireworks behind hwa

December

• most popular: ending fairy hwa

• favourite: kcon hwa

#fio's year in review #i hate how when using small font the last few letters are always bigger #dumblr at work

2 notes · View notes

scummy-writes · 2 years

Text

The Shirt Thief

A short fluff fic between Isaac and Mc, 1277 words.

---

It wasn't often Isaac was left speechless. Tongue-tied? Often. Lost in thought, not acknowledging what was said? Constantly. But being rendered incapable of any response out of pure bewilderment was rare.

His hand gently dropped to his side after closing your door behind him, knuckles twinged pink after knocking to no avail. Concern brought him to open the door regardless, and even after stepping into your room to confirm his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, he remained perplexed.

Why… was his shirt displayed out on your bed?

It had been quite some time since he had spent the night in your room, as for some reason you preferred his messy one. And often if he had…stripped… he wore the same outfit to his room the next morning.

How did you come across a shirt of his?

"Your shirt?"

Arthur and Dazai crowded Isaac at his desk, ignoring his obvious annoyance. The moment they noticed how distracted he was when they came in, they started badgering him with questions until he finally gave in.

And now, he rubbed his temple, feeling his mood sour.

"Must the two of you always come to bother me?"

"I just wanted to see Harry, little bloke is adorable. I don't know why Dazai tagged along," Arthur shrugged, making a point to sidestep away from the man.

Dazai, however, stepped closer to the fellow writer, "I simply felt like visiting my beloved Ai-chan."

Awful.

"Regardless, why was your shirt there, of all things?" Arthur got back to the topic at hand.

"I can't fathom why…" Isaac admitted, "I keep track of my clothes, perhaps there was a stain she was working on? But I'm not that messy…"

"Do you think it's from a tangle in the sheets?"

Was it possible? Isaac frowned, holding his chin in hand, "but I just can't recall…"

"Haha! Dear god, don't let the bird hear that. She'd be torn to bits knowing you couldn't remember a night together!"

Isaac processed what Arthur said, then flushed.

"O-Of course not! As if I'd f-forget…"

"Perhaps… She wanted to dress like our Ai-kun?" Dazai questioned, but Isaac rolled his eyes with a huff.

"That's preposterous, and she'd have much more than a shirt for that."

"Maybe it's the start of a collection? Maybe our bird is more of a magpie-"

"If the two of you are just playing to get on my nerves, then leave me be. I have enough hassle with le Recteur alone…"

By luck, Isaac had stumbled upon you later in the sitting room, working on dusting the rarely used space. Once it was clear it was your last chore of the evening, Isaac helped you finish it up before joining you to walk to your room.

But, curiously, you weren't keen on letting him inside. Was it due to the shirt? Did you not want him to see?

"In truth, I wanted to speak to you alone…" He admitted, watching your mouth open and close as you debated words. He shouldn't have, really, but he added on what he knew would do you in, "...Please?"

You blushed, fumbling with what to say, before you finally cracked the door open.

"A-alright…"

And it was exactly how he remembered it from this morning: the sheets tucked in immaculately, the curtains tied to let the sun billow in, your makeup for the day cluttered at your vanity… his shirt neatly spread out on your bed…

The longer he stared at it, contemplating what exactly to ask, your face turned pink. You stood there awkwardly, unsure of how to address the elephant in the room, until he finally spoke up.

"Why… is one of my shirts here?"

Your cheeks continued to burn, but after a few moments fidgeting with your fingers, you finally inched closer to your closet.

"You're forbidden to laugh at me," you warned, but didn't give him the time to respond. Quickly, you pulled out a pink plush rabbit from your closet. The toy was about three feet long, if he ignored it's long ears.

It rested gingerly in your grasp, before you slowly wrapped your arms around it's middle, resting your chin on top of it's head.

"You remember, don't you?" You questioned, not meeting his confused gaze, "when you bought me this?"

"Of course. When you were sick shortly after we began dating."

And how could he forget that? You were so stubborn and refused to rest at first. You tried hiding your sniffles and focused on chores away from the residents, but even Comte couldn't seem to sway you. It wasn't until Isaac had scolded you for being reckless, reminding you that you'd want the same for him, that you finally agreed to lay down and recover with rest.

"I was so lonely, and I hated being in my room all alone… So for when you couldn't be with me since you were teaching, you bought me this bunny to keep me company."

"I remember," he confirmed, smiling fondly, "you pouted so much when you wanted to hug me, but couldn't."

"I didn't want you to get sick too," and again, you pouted, letting out a small sigh, "but… sometimes I still get lonely."

You did?

Isaac watched with worry as you moved to sit on the bed, beside his shirt, dour in expression as you eyed the clothing. As if it was a crime to have.

But Isaac was more concerned now over how you had been feeling, and why he hadn't noticed.

"I don't want you to think I'm childish- I know it's fine to not spend every night together. I mean, sometimes we need to be apart…It's fine… just some nights, I get lonely and wish you were here." You finally explained further, seemingly sinking more into the plush rabbit by the moment.

"Why do you think I'll find you childish for admitting that?" Isaac gingerly sat beside you on the bed, resting his hand in your back.

"Because… Isn't it childish to be so clingy? I-I mean," nervously, your fingers toyed with the shirt resting on the bed, playing with the buttons, "...I took your shirt and put it on the bunny, since your cologne was still on it, it made me feel as though I was hugging you… but now I just look like a creep."

The two of you sat in silence as Isaac processed what you said. The first thought he had was imagining the plush absolutely swallowed in his shirt, and your attempts at hugging it- and he snickered.

"You weren't supposed to laugh!"

Oh, that was a genuine pout from you, but he couldn't help it. With a smile, he pulled you into his arms, plush and all.

"It is not childish to miss me. I think it's perfectly natural… and cute."

"C-cute?"

"I miss you as well, you know," he admitted, feeling relieved that even you, his stubborn, loving sweetheart, experienced this too, "and there are times where you fall asleep before me in my bed, while I research, and I find myself missing when you were awake."

Finally, you glanced up at him, meeting his gaze with hopeful eyes, "r-really?"

"What reason do I have to lie?"

And at last, you set aside the plush rabbit, wrapping your arms tightly around him instead. With a squeeze, your shoulders dropped as you spoke, "t-thank god- I was so nervous you'd find me ridiculous!"

"Nonsense. You're curious, but never ridiculous."

The giggle that came from you caused him to chuckle, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"Tomorrow, let's go into town. I'll show you what cologne I wear, and we'll spend the day together, okay?"

---

I wrote this...in like two hours... very impromptu and did not glance over it for mistakes more than twice.

I just thought Mc the shirt thief, purely out of missing snuggles, was a cute idea.

I'm not using my tag list on this one since its a rough impromptu one 🙇‍♀️ sorry, from my understanding, everyone wants to be tagged in finished pieces rather than silly stuff like this.

Masterlist | Ikevamp/Ikepri Server

#ikevamp #ikevamp isaac #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire isaac

101 notes · View notes

lailyn · 1 year

Text

All The Plans We Didn't Make (Chapter 1/?)

@marveltrumpshate auction fill for @mischievousdope

Pairing: James Bucky Barnes/Loki

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Angst, Drama, Mpreg, Hurt/Comfort, Genderfluid Loki

Characters: Loki, James Bucky Barnes, Thor, Sam Wilson

Summary: It's the anniversary of King T'challa's death and Loki comforts a grieving Bucky, but his good intentions come with unforeseen consequences.

The remaining light of day was a ripple of red across the horizon. A figure appeared at the connecting balcony, casting a large shadow that swallowed the sun and half of Loki’s face in the mirror.

"Going somewhere, brother?"

"Ask me again, why don't you," Loki said with a sniff. "I love being asked questions you very well know the answers to."

Unflustered, Thor decided tonight was as good a time as any to feed his long-contained curiosity. "So it is serious, then? You and the Winter Soldier?"

"Don't call him that," Loki rebuked his brother sharply. "He has not been that for a long time."

"Sorry."

"People forget." Loki softened his weighted statement with a pensive, "He mourns."

The mood in the room turned sombre.

"As do we all," Thor said quietly. "At this time of year."

"I would have liked to have known the man," Loki said. "What I know of him I learned from others."

"He was a great man," Thor said gravely. "A great king."

Mismatched eyes met green ones in the mirror, both pairs steeped in varying degrees of sorrow.

Thor had come to his brother's chamber looking for gossip, but now he found himself disheartened by the sudden turn in conversation.

"High praise, brother," Loki murmured. "Coming from you."

"There was no one more deserving of it than T'challa. He was the best of us."

Loki exhaled slowly. "Of course he was."

He had heard it all, of the late king's limitless kindness…not from Bucky, but from people around him. Bucky was no more forthcoming with his past than Loki himself.

"What are you planning to do?" Thor queried.

Loki turned his head, allowing Thor a glimpse of the half-smirk the mirror did not catch. "Get absolutely plastered. I am Asgardian, after all."

Thor clapped his brother on the back a few times and quietly closed the door behind him.

Loki had found someone. A complicated man with a complicated past but who remained a good man, as claimed by Thor's own friends.

As far as Thor was concerned, that was all that mattered.

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

"Tell me about him."

"You've seen him," Bucky said. "When he was alive."

Loki was nothing if not persistent. "Tell me what I didn't see."

Bucky tried to think of the right words to say, but the strongest memory was of his first tussle with the Black Panther all those years ago in Bucharest. "He wanted me dead the first time we met."

Loki bumped their shoulders together. "Hey. Don't feel bad. I too have that effect on people."

Bucky sighed. His gaze fell on the empty bottles and cans lying in disarray on the coffee table.

"He blamed me for his father's death."

"Oh."

When Loki stayed quiet, Bucky felt his anxiety stir to life. "I didn't do it."

“I know.” A brush of Loki’s lips against his temple quietened his nerves. “Wilson told me.”

“He did, huh?”

Loki’s fingers were gentle as they sifted through his hair. “You need not fear judgement from me, Bucky.”

Inexplicably, Bucky's eyes watered. He blinked furiously, but tears still clung to his lashes.

"Wolf."

"Sorry." Bucky pressed the heel of his hands into his eye sockets, so hard it made his head throb. "I'm not really good company today, I guess."

"You're perfectly acceptable company, no matter the day," Loki said with an unwavering conviction that rendered Bucky momentarily speechless.

“How did I deserve you?” Bucky wondered aloud when he could finally put into words his awe.

“Hmm. Perhaps you’re kind to animals?” Loki ventured a cheeky guess. “I personally think it's your overwhelming sense of guilt. The universe has had enough of it and sent you me to set you straight."

"Wow. You're brutally honest."

"I am known throughout the cosmos for my radical candour," Loki said modestly. "It's one thing your scholars got right about me in the books."

"Nah. I'm not much of a reader." Bucky stretched his legs and leaned back on jos hands. "And I don't think I'm…straight? At least I don't think I am. Not anymore. I'm not sure. It's all very confusing.

"Allow me to unconfuse you." Loki pushed Bucky onto the floor, pinning him down by the shoulders. "Close your eyes."

Bucky did as he was told, and was soon rewarded with a series of kisses. He was not a romantic, but if he could describe Loki's kisses tonight, they were tender yet careful, yearning yet patient.

Something tickled Bucky's cheeks. It was soft, the caress of breath against skin, but proved to be too much of a distraction.

He opened his eyes a fraction.

"Loki?"

"Hi," the vision before him said shyly.

Bucky prised the long lock of hair off the side of his face and fingered its unearthly silkiness.

He gazed up at the Goddess of Mischief, eyes unreadable. "This is you?”

“Part of me. The real me. All of me.”

The vision then made an outrageous offer, an offer no man could refuse. "All yours."

“Loki…” he moaned. Yes.

In this form Loki felt delicate, as opposed to the usual solid mass of muscle Bucky was used to, but Bucky knew better; the fragility was an illusion.

The next thing he knew, Loki had transported them both onto the bed, and was now straddling his thighs; as she rode him faster and faster, her glossy dark hair tumbled past delectable collarbones and tickled Bucky's chest.

Bucky made love to her deep into the night, his grief a distant memory. He explored every inch of Loki’s body, spending many minutes kissing all the curves and edges, old and new, vaguely familiar yet different. All Loki.

All mine.

"I love you," he blurted out at one point.

"Say it again when you're sober," was all Loki answered, not unkindly.

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

"I am cursed. I am cursed. I am cursed."

It had been more than five minutes since Bucky had awakened to Loki's frantic mutterings, and he was starting to get really worried now.

"Can you please tell me what's going on?" Bucky implored as Loki, now back in his male form, paced up and down the room like a caged tiger.

Loki whirled around, eyes wild and crazed. "I can't find it."

Bucky was not sure what he could do to help, but knew he would accomplish nothing by sitting around while Loki scampered around like a headless chicken. "If you could just tell me what exactly you're looking for, I can help you look for it."

"That thing!"

"What thing?" Bucky asked in growing exasperation.

"I don't know what it's called in your language," Loki muttered.

"Okay…" Bucky scratched the back of his head, and looked around the bed, gloriously rumpled from the frolics of the night before.

He had absolutely no clue what he was looking for, but he had to be seen doing something. "When, uh, when did you last see it?"

Loki's panicky expression turned sheepish as he ran his hands down his naked torso. "Two hundred years ago, give or take a few decades?"

A soft gasp. "Do you think when I died and then came back that it didn't come back with me?"

Bucky's heart skipped a beat, before it began to pound like a sledgehammer. "Loki, you are not making any sense. What is 'it'?"

"Something invisible. Something potent." Loki's throat bobbed up and down in fear. "Something important."

Bucky was wiser than many people gave him credit for, on account of all the things he had seen and done. Loki was the same, so whatever he had lost, it must be damn big for Loki to react this way.

"Calm down," Bucky said in his most soothing voice. "This thing. Is it going to kill you if you don't have it?"

"Yes!" Then Loki caught himself. "No. Maybe." He winced. "I'm not sure. I can't tell yet."

"Good. Okay. I can deal with maybe," Bucky said. "When can we know for sure?"

Loki did not answer, so Bucky lunged and caught a wrist the next time the frantic demigod walked past the bed. "Hey. Sit down. Talk to me."

Loki plopped heavily onto the bed.

"In a few months," he huffed. "We'll find out in a few months."

"About what?"

Loki did not answer. He cupped the side of Bucky's face. "Are you sober?"

"Yes." Bad hangover aside, Bucky was stone cold sober now.

"I love you," Loki confessed.

"You cheat. I said it first," Bucky said.

"You're going to change your mind."

It was too early for one of Loki's riddles, but for some reason, Loki sounded close to tears, and that scared Bucky more than anything.

"Nothing's going to make me change my mind," Bucky stressed, making his voice hard on purpose, but instead of convinced, Loki only looked more stricken.

"I have to go," Loki said abruptly.

"Loki, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Loki gently extricated himself out of Bucky's embrace. "Simply…an inconvenience."

"Will I see you later at Sam's?" Bucky asked.

Loki gave him a pasty smile. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Wait," Bucky exclaimed, desperate for Loki not to go, but his lover could not stay for a moment longer.

In a blink, Loki disappeared in a whirlwind of green magic, leaving Bucky alone to his racing thoughts.

What the hell just happened?

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

Only the day before, Loki had stood in front of the mirror, in anticipation of the night ahead.

Today, stripped of every piece of clothing, Loki stood before it again, this time scrutinising his reflection for the smallest, most minute change.

It was too soon to see any, of course.

Impossible.

Loki had realised it this morning when he awakened with a sinking feeling in his gut.

If he had not been so inebriated, he would have sensed it…sensed its absence, before he took the risky move to shift his form into one that he had not taken in a long, long time.

And for good reason too.

Not impossible.

The protective spell that his late Mother had weaved for him centuries ago had unravelled, God knew when, and he did not even realise it.

Loki laid a hand on his belly.

All it takes is a bit of magic, he cajoled himself. Take a look.

"No, I won't," he said aloud. "I can't."

Take a look. This time, he heard it in Bucky's voice, loud and clear.

Here goes nothing.

Loki surrendered himself to the call of the trance and reached out with his seidr, seeking for any sign of life deep inside him.

And there it was. A flutter. A caress of breath on skin, from within.

Loki sank to the floor, his knees slapping the hard, cold tiles, but he hardly felt the it.

Norns, have mercy.

#winterfrost #mth 2022 #fic #mpreg #loki x bucky

9 notes · View notes

braveheartstoryteller · 8 months

Text

I’ve always been a big fan of letting a story interpret itself. I like to look for intent, themes, and other clues to how a story is supposed to be read. As always this will still be subjective to an extant, after all we have our own lenses that which we view our world and stories in. Still, I like to put that aside as much as one can, because it allows me to see things beyond my own perspective. I learn that way.

From the beginning though, Re:coded got under my skin. When I first watched the story, I went with a walkthrough of the DS game. It gave me context, and I like that type of thing. When I reached the end however, it started to mess with me. I agreed with Data-Roxas at first, as he told Data-Sora to forget, lest he be lost to darkness. Then Data-Sora chose a different path: towards acceptance and connection. I felt smacked upside the head. I knew Data-Sora was right, but that’s not the easy road. It’s like Riku choosing the path toward dawn. Choosing to walk through it, instead of running from it.

This is what I learned from Re:coded, and that was the story’s intent. From the beginning it tells you:

"Their hurting will be mended when you return to end it."

Again and again, the idea of hurt and dealing with it, comes up. It shows you and tells you too, how to deal with hurt, in simple, childlike terms. That’s why Data-Sora is so childlike here. In the game, he feels softer, more expressive than his counterpart. Part of this is the engine that they use to render the cutscenes, but Data-Sora seems more unabashed in his expression of emotion at times, more so than Sora. This fits the theme of the story, where Data-Sora’s path was cultivated with one end in mind: so that he’ll understand hurt and how to deal with it. It seems to make him more open and malleable. It is why I want to do this series of posts on the topic of Re:coded and its importance to the series. There are several ways you can look at it, and since this is Tumblr, it will only be lightly touched on. Think of it this way; use it as a spring board to do your own deep dive. You never know what you'll find. Anyway, the three main concepts I will touch on are: A deeper look at the Castle Oblivion section of Re:coded. I've already looked at the main story, which can be found here. The post on Castle Oblivion can be found here. A look at the connections between KH3D and Re:coded. How they mirror each other and how they are different. This can be found here. And lastly, I'll touch on KH3 and Re:coded's influence on the story. That post is found here. To keep things tidy, I will tag all posts under Tale of two Sora's. So look for that.

#tale of two sora's #kingdom hearts #kh sora #kh data sora #kh recoded #storytelling #deep dives #character study

1 note · View note

moss-gender · 2 years

Text

obligatory intro post!

heya! im river. this is my tumblr!

about me

age: 29

orientation: queer/demi/arospec

gender: agender (ae/aem/aer or they/them)

neurotype: autistic/neurodivergent

disabilities: chronic anxiety, psychosis (mostly paranoia and derealization but also depersonalization and dissociation, also delusional), chronic gi issues, auditory processing issues, ptsd

ideology: leftist/ancom leaning

privileges: white, middle class upbringing

spirituality: buddhist witch, believe in a lot of weird bullshit (the line between this and psychosis is blurry sometimes)

relationship status: relationship anarchist

special interests: entomology (insects) + arachnids + isopods + myriapods, hyenas, lucid dreaming, writing, paleontology, diy dollhouses/miniatures, j-fashion (menhera, decora, spank kei, cult party kei, fairy kei, punk lolita, bittersweet lolita, gothic lolita, yami kawaii, yume kawaii, mori girl/boy, harajuku street fashion), candy gore art, farming rpgs (especially sos, ac, minecraft), personality quizzes, sanrio (cinnamoroll is fave), queer microlabels, ancient civilizations, techware fashion/art, furry art, cringe art, dreamcore, weirdcore, old web, mycology (mushrooms), mandela effect and reality shifting stories, cyberpunk fic and art, diy fashion and decor, survival skills, mythology, etc (may add to later)

what I'll post besides special interests (tag list):

me: things that i vibe with

current events: news (you can block this)

feel good: positivity

art: art i like

humor tag: shitposts and memes

queer: queer stuff

gender: gender stuff

aro: arospec stuff

friends: cute animals and critters

important: psa and important info

life hack: self improvement, etc

mental health: tips, awareness, education, etc (will probably tag specifically too like bpd, psychosis, ptsd, adhd, anxiety)

sw: sex work stuff

m a: mutual aid

fashion: j-fashion as well as faecore and punk fashion

want: things i wish i could have (may or may not have shop links)

recovery: things pertaining to either alcohol, self-harm, ed, or bpd recovery

resources: resources i want to remember

my posts (formerly “river says things”): diaryposting, life updates, thoughts, etc *I will probably just say vent posts from now on. idk my name

may tag friends if something makes me think of you!

current tags for blocking purposes: ableism, racism, transphobia, queerphobia, whorephobia, current events (rn "roe v wade" for example), sexual assault, sex, rape culture, diet culture, gore, creepy crawlies (for insects et all), hate crime, unreality, police, police brutality, abuse, addiction, ed, relapse, substance (sometimes will talk about psychedelics), slut shaming, csa, pedophilia, food (for people with ed or for during Ramadan), anti-semitism, islamophobia, please note that as of 06.28.22 i have started tagging again so be cautious going backward!! also!!! let me know if i should add something!

fandoms in case relevant (in rough order of how high the interest is): sanrio, animal crossing, minecraft, junji ito, skyrim, our flag means death (ofmd), what we do in the shadows (wwdits), king of the hill (koth), trailer park boys (tpb), russian doll, beastars, kuragehime, everything everywhere all at once, hannibal, x files, buffy... will add more as they come to mind

feel free to send me asks! im not always good at responding so if i forget it's not personal!

Edit 05.09.23: I no longer support AI art. This has been true for a while but I haven't updated my intro. If you go back far enough you may find some art. When I first got into it I thought they used only free photo databases and only art that had entered public domain. I know this was naive now. I liked the hyperrealistic style renders that could generate character inspiration. I didn't know how much art was being stolen and how many styles were being replicated nonconsenually. Honestly when I got into it I was being very delusional. So it took me a while to accept that what was happening with AI art was happening. Using AI art tools for fun was not as completely harmless as it first appeared. I don't want to help that industry, but I do hope one day AI art could be different. Not a threat. Because the programming potential would not be a replacement of human art. AI programming is a special interest bc I think the field needs people who care about the ethics of how AI technology is used. I sometimes blog about AI art in reference to this interest in understanding the industry of AI as a whole and how it can be used for justified choices.

#rye says things #intro post #river says things

15 notes · View notes

changelingsandothernonsense · 6 months

Text

Wip but it's my Thursday

Tagged by @saltymaplesyrup tagging @mareenavee ( I know you're getting space but I said I was still tagging) @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @snippetsrus @gilgamish @tallmatcha @kookaburra1701 @thana-topsy @orfeolookback @caliblorn Low effort 0 expectation, I know there's a lot of chaos running around but feel free to join in if you like. I have been procrastinating on study because I'm changing my major so I am out of steam on that. So I have um...too many wips in both the art section and the writing section. We have been doing SAD WARS and that means a lot of art and a lot of writing. Like I think I wrote 30K in a month XD ART First I have the Erra render that I've been working on. He's coming along.

Some Josh about to fuck up some Reavers. IDK I kinda just wanted to draw the Dwarven toe prosthesis which will be more visible if I ever line this lol. under the cut for the rest!

Pic of Yani too idk. Okay, Writing!

Going to post 3 snips because I've been jumping around wips. First is a section from Mortal Chill

Corprus? But…how? I stood and moved to try to pull the covers off of him, I don’t know what I was really trying to do here. I could not remove them myself. I- I guess I wanted those bandages removed so that I could see for myself. The tumours, the growths that twisted and deformed the body. The broken bones the-

Maera he was so thin, was it the wasting kind? All I could remember were stories of mad creatures that would come screaming out of the southern ash wastes at night. That they had a madness, that they ate the cursed flesh of their brethren. The Urshilaku would warn us every few years of another outbreak of blight. That it had started breaching the Ghostfence. My tribe did not much care for such things. The lore of our ancestors meant little amongst the Erabenimsun. Our Ashkhans were absolute rulers, our focus war and glory. The news of blight usually fell on deaf ears. Our Wise Woman’s warnings would often go unheeded. It was why my father had made that attempt on old Ulath-Pal’s life after all. Some sort of pact between my kin, the Ensirhaddon who bore most of the tribe’s farseers and mages and the Urshilaku and the Ilaba'andul-Sul family, who were the ruling clan of the northern wastes. It failed, and my kin were systematically executed one by one. I had fled the night my twin sister had her throat cut in her sleep. I was fifteen and utterly alone.

I had run into someone afflicted with blight somewhere around Piran. The wasting the growths. She was practically mad as she lashed out at me. I still have no idea how I had gotten away in the end. Maybe it is because I am forgetting so many things but I know that creature haunts me, Kiang.

Is this really to be my son’s fate?

You shuddered, turning to stroke our son’s cheek. Forty-six years since he was twelve. I guess I was trying to do the sum in my head, had never been good at that, resorting to counting the individual sections of my fingers instead. Three, six, twelve-

“Fifty-eight, Yani. He turned fifty-eight yesterday-I,” you let out a breath, shuddering once again, “I tried to summon you yesterday but- I don’t know why it didn’t work or-“

I couldn’t believe it, the last time I had heard your call and walked through the flames he was still a child, barely twenty-two! You reached for me, your hands on either side of my ruined face. Torn and beaten from the rubble that had entombed me. My ear missing, torn at some point. My face ripped from the razor edge of debris that I had not seen. My throat slashed to such a point that the grizzled meat was visible. It is why I cannot speak.

I was only thirty-one when I had died, barely grown myself. Maera I’ve missed so much.

The second is from Ahzidal's Descent

“Greave,” she held out her hand again, “Teldryn I need it to keep the splint in place.”

He grumbled a little as he reached out behind him, handing her the light, chitinous plate. The surface was a marbled green and beige that dully reflected the sunlight. It had something carved into its underside. Something in what looked like Dunmeris but she honestly couldn’t tell. Sydari untangled the netch leather straps and placed the chitin on top of his shin.

“Tel, I’m going to have to lift this again,” she said as she lightly prodded his shin.

“Do I have to wear it?” He groaned, scratching the back of his head, “I’m pretty sure that’s what irritated it in the first place. Thing was fine this morning.” He shrugged.

Sydari exhaled slowly. Of course, he’d blame the only thing that was supporting his leg! It couldn’t possibly be the fact that he chose to scale this dune! She lifted his leg and started securing the chitin greave to his shin, maybe a little too roughly.

“N'chow! Now I know you did that on purpose!” Teldryn protested, he began to fiddle with the leather strap of his goggles.

“You don’t think that maybe you aggravated your leg by climbing up a cliff?” Sydari pinched the bridge of her nose, “You didn’t even bother to properly brace it!”

“It was fine this morning when I took it off,” Teldryn hunched over his left knee and exhaled sharply, “Thing interferes with my prosthesis, I told you. Plus, I really felt fine this morning, Sydari.”

“You’re not supposed to be taking it off yet Teldryn,” Sydari began to search her pack again, pulling out another small vial, this one filled with a red viscous liquid that leaned violet in the sunlight. Tinged by the minuscule edition of Sleeping Tree Sap. It would dull the pain but make his comedown from the stamina tonic a lot harsher.

“What’s that?” Teldryn asked.

Sydari shook the bottle a little, “It dulls pain.”

Teldryn tilted his head, “Didn’t I just take one of those?”

Sydari shook her head, “No, this one is a bit different, stronger,” she handed him the glass vial, “Just don’t drink all of it, it contains a sedative.”

Teldryn raised an eyebrow, “What kind of sedative?”

Sydari sighed, “It’s a type of sap from this tree in Whiterun Hold, it’s um…”

Teldryn chortled, “Say no more hla’Miluth, say no more,” he raised the small bottle to his lips and took a small sip, “tastes like shit though,” he smiled and handed the mostly full vial back to her.

“You think everything does,” Sydari replied as she replaced the stopped and returned the vial to her pack.

She stood up and offered Teldryn her hand, “Come on, let's get you back to the Netch.”

“Aww come on Miluth!” Teldryn frowned, “It’s just over this ridge, we’re so close. Why go back now?”

Sydari pulled her pack over her shoulder and offered him her hand again, “Because you’re not making it up that hill, not in your wildest dreams.”

And finally a bit from Kagrumez Gauntlet

I took a few steps back, dagger still readied…just in case. The specter reached out.

“It is okay, Dumu, I mean you no harm,” there was an echo to his voice as well, as if he was both far away and far too close. I wonder if that is why he never spoke last time.

“Wha-“I stammered, I had no idea what any of this was.

He held up a hand and shook his head, “Does your Ata know you have that?”

I slowly lowered your dagger, putting it away. I shook my head at the ghost.

He sighed, “Nervyna, these places are death traps for the best of us. You cannot be messing around in here.”

I pouted, “Ata said he’d take me down here to help with his research. We were supposed to be here together but he ditched me with my cousins and came here himself,” I folded my arms, “It’s not fair!”

The ghost shook his head, his hair almost floating around him, “Oh Dumu, I am sure he had good reason. It is a new place, yes?”

I nodded, “That’s why we were going to come down here together,” I told the ghost, “then all of a sudden he decides ‘No! It’s time to go visit your cousins!’” I mimicked your gruff tone as best as I could. It made the ghost laugh.

“Ah, I think I know what is wrong, Nervyna,” the ghost smiled, “Your Ata found that down here, I do not think he wants one of these ambushing the two of you.”

I looked back at the metal mer that lay battered and broken, melted to the floor. Did he see this thing and run? I sighed, “So he saw this thing and ran away? It’s dead. Creepy but it’s dead.”

The ghost approached the broken hunk of metal and knelt over it, “Nervyna, your Ata does not run from these things. This is his doing.”

I walked over to where the ghost was kneeling, standing on the opposite side of the twisted metal mer, “how would you know that? I don’t even know who you are?”

The ghost furrowed his brow or tried to, the long scar that cut across his face seemed to make it hard, even in this form, “Nervyna, I have known your Ata for a very long time. More than he would probably care to admit. I know how he attacks these things. I have seen him do it many times. Dumu I know your Ata took down this metal mer because I do not know anyone else who can melt this kind of metal.”

I stared at the thing’s melted surface. It reminded me a little too much of how an ice mer melts during the early spring thaw. Like the ones that you would build with me whenever snow fell on the mountains to the north of the island. You hated the cold but you would take me up there every year so that we could make one. This wasn’t making any sense.

“I haven't seen Ata so much as take down a slaughterfish let alone whatever this thing is,” I stood and stomped back towards the stairs that lead further into the ruin.

“Nervyna! Wait!” the ghost called back as I descended the stairs. I replenished the light I had summoned with some of my magicka, just like you showed me. ‘Imagine you can make the light stronger with just one touch,’ I had finally started getting the hang of doing that.

The ghost reformed in front of me as I entered a colossal chamber. The whole place buzzing and whirring with that magical steam you always talked about. He frowned at me, bow gripped tightly in his ethereal fist.

“Please do not run off like that. I can not protect you if you move too far away from me,” he cautioned, though his tone was even and calm, I could tell there was a slight hint of annoyance there.

“I never asked for your protection, ghost. I don’t even know who you are,” I grit my teeth, I never summoned any ancestor ghost. I don’t even know that spell yet!

The ghost blinked at me before sighing, “That is my fault, I forget that you do know what I look like. I am Erra, I was-“

“You’re Aya’s uncle!” I interrupted, I had heard of him before. I had heard of him a lot, in fact. You had called him by the same words that you used for Alma.

For a brief moment, I thought I saw the ghost frown. He smiled again and nodded, “Yes, that is it.”

#my art #my writing #my wips #teldryn sero #danger!josh #Erra Ilaba'andul #Nervyna Sero #sydari aralen #dunmer #skyrim #morrowind #the elder scrolls #tesblr #nerevarine #last dragonborn #tes #tes fanart #tes fic

1 note · View note

tenelkadjowrites · 2 years

Text

Just For Tonight - Bang Chan x Reader (NSFW)

💸Summary: On the run after a life changing decision, you stop for the night at a motel just off the highway and form a connection with the owner.

💸Word count: 6,933.

💸Genre & warnings: one shot smut. strangers to lovers. fem pronouns for reader. dirty talk. oral sex. unprotected sex.

💸Tag list: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @iusrene - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multihoe-net - @haruharu-egypt - @spiderlilyfics - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404

this fic is not meant to represent bang chan in any way, shape or form.

The car’s engine goes silent and you slump forward, your forehead resting against the steering wheel. You try to focus on your breathing but your heart is beating so quickly that it is difficult. In the last hour of the drive, the wind has picked up and you can hear it now, tearing through the trees, howling around the motel.

I didn’t plan this through at all, you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, what the hell was I thinking? You hadn’t been thinking – that was the problem. That is how you landed in this situation. Just focus on the next step. Sleep. What you needed is sleep. After driving for six hours unexpectedly, you desperately wanted to stretch your legs, sink into bed and try to forget about everything going on.

You stare at the bag in the passenger seat of the car. The zipper looks like a closed mouth with a secret, a small wink and nudge in the dark between two friends. Cursing quietly, you grab the bag, open the door and get out of the car.

The wind swirls dead leaves around your feet as you pull the second bag from the backseat. At some point in the last couple hours, you made a wrong turn and ended up off the highway, driving down desolate roads for way too long. Your phone is dead, your car too old to have a charging cord for it, rendering the GPS useless. That combined with your horrible sense of direction meant you weren’t entirely sure where you were.

The sign of the motel is half burnt out, the rest of it flickering in the darkness. It couldn’t look more like something out of a horror movie but you are too bone tired to care. There are no other cars in the parking lot. The motel itself is unremarkable. One light is on in the lobby, the stretch of rooms all dark. There only seems to be about twenty rooms in all, split between two floors. The moon hangs high above the motel, silently watching.

The temperature has dropped considerably since leaving hours ago. It propels you inside, the small bell on the door chiming as you enter. It is much warmer inside the lobby which is just a clean room with a desk in the centre. The décor is simple: a couch and table by the windows, some magazines scattered across it, a tiny table with an older looking coffee machine placed there, and a worn out circular carpet on the floor. Behind the desk is a partition blocking off what must be where files and the work computer are located. There is something old fashioned about the place like stepping into what a motel would look like fifty years ago. The air smells faintly of lavender from a candle flickering above a fireplace that clearly hasn’t been used in forever.

At the desk, a man is seated, his head rolled back, a book open and face down on his chest which rises and falls steadily with his breathing. He is fast asleep, thin gold glasses perched on his nose. You feel bad waking him up. It is close to midnight and clearly, no one else is at the motel who would need or require anything from him. You try gently clearing your throat but there is no response.

Quietly, you cross the lobby, stopping just in front of the desk. Outside, a gust of wind kicks up rather violently, slamming against the windows, a tree branch smacking against the wall. It startles you, a yelp escaping your lips and it is this series of sounds that jolts the man awake.

The book tumbles to the floor as the man blinks a few times before looking over at you bleary-eyed. Realizing someone is in the lobby, he straightens up immediately, running his fingers through his brown hair. His glasses are even a bit old fashioned like the motel itself, you think, as you notice the gold chain hanging off them. Wearing a white button up shirt with a small gold necklace that is bright against the fabric, and black dress slacks, he looks prepared to deal with a mad rush of customers than just one singular person arriving in the middle of the night. He's handsome in the sort of way that if things were different, you’d be interested in flirting.

“I’m so sorry,” He says quickly, his voice accented, an apologetic expression on his face, “It’s completely unprofessional of me to be asleep like that.”

You actually don’t care and don’t blame him. “It’s fine. I just need a room for the night.”

“Right, yeah, of course. Hang on.” He opens the laptop that is perched on the desk, typing a few things as he logs in. The glow of the screen reflects against his glasses, his eyes flicking upwards to look at you. “I’ll need a card.”

“Do you take cash?” The last thing you want to do right now is use a card and leave some sort of trail.

His gaze lingers on you for a beat too long. You wonder if he can feel the anxiety rolling off you, if the fact you fucked up and are now on the run is all over your face. Maybe he deals with your type all the time.

“Yeah, I take cash.” He finally replies, telling you how much it will be for one night.

As you rummage around in your purse for the money, you start to babble, afraid of coming off too suspicious if you don’t. “I got lost and my phone is dead. I thought there was another hotel closer to the highway but I got turned around at some point.”

“The one off the historic old highway 10?”

You frown, “No, I don’t think that was it.”

“Maybe 4019 Highway 88?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Here.” You thrust the cash at him.

Taking it, he goes, “I just need a name for the file.”

You give him a fake name, forcing what you hope is an easy going pleasant smile on your face. “What about you?”

“Oh, you can just call me Chan.” He smiles at you and once again you think he is quite attractive. If only your life wasn’t in the midst of ending, you could have drudged up the energy to flirt. It’s a shame, actually.

He holds out the room key – an actual key, not one of those cards that are inserted into the lock, just driving home how old the place is – and as you go to reach for it, the lobby is filled with the bright headlights from a car. You freeze, hand hovering over the key. Even Chan looks a bit surprised.

“Oh, two so close together. A busy night.” He jokes but your stomach is curdling like milk, the anxiety in your chest exploding.

Without thinking, you go, “I think they’re here for me. I can’t – I mean, please, I can’t explain. Let me hide in the back. Tell them you haven’t seen me.”

Chan looks puzzled but replies, “Isn’t your car out front? If they are looking for you…”

“Fuck,” At a loss for a lie, all you can think about is hiding, running, getting out of here, “I…I just…”

Something in his gaze softens and he jerks his head towards the partition, “Just go back there. I’ll deal with it.”

You have absolutely no clue if you can trust him or not. But you have no choice. To remain standing here in the open would be a disaster. Even though you have no proof that the newly arrived car is here for you, the hair standing on the back of your neck and unshakeable feeling is all you need.

Quickly, you scamper behind the partition. There is a filing cabinet, a second desk with a larger desktop computer, and a coat rack. You wiggle behind the filing cabinet, sinking to your knees, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Your bags are shoved awkwardly against you and the wall. Across from you is a door; you wonder if it is a closet and if you should have tried to hide there instead. A second later, the bell chimes and you hear the heavy footsteps of someone in boots. The wind rushes in along with the person entering and you can just see the lavender candle being snuffed out by the force of it.

“Good evening, sir. How can I help you? Looking for a room?” Chan asks pleasantly.

I don’t know this guy at all and my entire life is hanging in his hands, you think with a sickening feeling swooping over your body. Sure, he seems nice enough but all people are until the second they show their true colours.

“No,” You recognize the voice, knowing that your paranoia worked in your favor. “Looking for someone. Her car is out front. What room is she in?”

Fuck fuck fuck. Why hadn’t you parked the car somewhere else and walked to the motel? You were simply too tired and not thinking clearly. Now it was up to the god damned motel owner to come up with a lie that he will believe.

But without missing a beat, Chan replies in a disgruntled voice. “Oh, you’re looking for her too?”

Thrown off, the man stops for a moment and goes, “What do you mean?” His voice is stiff. This isn’t going according to plan.

“I’m getting the car towed in the morning. Listen, if you want to take it instead, take it. I don’t care.”

“I don’t want the car. Tell me what room she’s in.”

“She isn’t here. Parked her car, came in here with some BS story, used my phone claiming someone was meeting her here. I told her she couldn’t just hang out in the lobby all night. Pay for a room or please leave. I can’t have people hanging out around the motel. Looks bad for business. I get some wandering highway traffic out here and people won’t stop for the night if they see others milling around. You get it, right?”

“You’re saying she isn’t here?” The man sounds dubious.

“That’s right. Some man came by and picked her up. She left her car here and I don’t think she’s going to be back for it. I can’t have abandoned cars in my parking lot. That’s even worse than people hanging around outside!”

A pause, the sound of the boots pacing the lobby. He isn’t fully convinced yet, you wish that it is possible to tell Chan that. “Listen, this woman…she has something that belongs to my boss. You understand? Not that I’m calling you a liar. But she’s one. So, if you don’t mind, if you could escort me through the rooms you have in your establishment. Just so I can make sure,” Another pause. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

Your heart racing, you silently plead for Chan to agree. You don’t want to put anyone else in danger. As long as the man believes Chan’s story, there is no risk of anyone being hurt.

You wonder how much money the man showed Chan. Ironic that they have no issue in tossing money around in order to get some money back.

“Yeah, alright, why not? That’s enough for someone staying here for two weeks. Come on.” There is the sound of keys jingling, the door opening, wind bursting forth and then silence.

You dare not move. Your legs are starting to cramp but you remain shoved in the spot. The only weakness in your hiding spot is a window. If he decides to have Chan take him around back, the man could see you easily. Your heart pounds, the palms of your hands sweating, the creak of leather from the bags when you try to adjust your position seem as loud as a gunshot. Each second is an eternity. You wonder what Chan is telling the man, if he is starting to figure out that you aren’t so innocent yourself, or if he just cares about the money he will get by showing the motel off.

You wonder how many people your ex-boss sent out to tail your car. Obviously, in your own bumbling driving, you shook all of them off but one. If Chan successfully convinces this man that you aren’t here, that will give you more breathing room. Unless he thinks he can get more money by telling him I’m hiding out in the office…You try to banish the thought.

You aren’t sure how long it actually takes for the entire process to end but by the time the headlights turn back on, filling the lobby with light before sliding across the wall as the car pulls out, your legs are numb and you are slightly nauseated from anxiety. The lobby is silent. The only sound is of the screaming wind outside, the tree branches brushing against the window. You dare not move until Chan returns.

Finally, the bell chimes and a familiar voice goes, “Alright. He’s gone. Although maybe don’t jump out just yet. In case he circles around.”

You stretch your legs out carefully, your body protesting. Chan comes around the partition, peering down at you through his glasses.

“How much did he give you?”

Chan shows you the stack of cash. “Basically gave him a tour of the motel. He seemed frustrated by the end of it. Poked around your car. Grumbled, gave me a number to call if I saw you, promised more money.”

“Did he say he’s coming back? Do you think he’ll come back?”

“I don’t think so. But I don’t think I can put you in one of the rooms.”

“That’s fine. I get it.” You try not to feel dread at getting back in the car and driving again. “Just let me hide out here for like…twenty minutes and I’ll go.”

Surprise flickers across Chan’s face. “No, I didn’t mean leave. One of the rooms on the second floor has been renovated. I live out of it. You can just sleep there tonight. I don’t think you should be back on the road with no sleep. You look exhausted. Come on.” He holds his hand out to help you off the floor.

Someone randomly being this kind to you after a day like this would make you cry if you didn’t feel so emotionally tapped out. You grab Chan’s hand as he pulls you up, your legs still sore, making you lose your footing for a second. This results in being extremely close to the him, enough to smell the faint cologne clinging to his shirt, enough to place one hand briefly against his abdomen to steady yourself, feeling firm muscles underneath. You quickly take a step backwards, trying to ignore the random burst of butterflies in your stomach.

Chan goes to the door across from where you had been hiding, unlocking it with another key. A small staircase is revealed and he motions for you to follow. You do so, trying to ignore the muscles evident against the fabric of his shirt. Surely, there are bigger things going on than checking out the motel owner. Your brain always notices things that aren’t important at the worst of times.

“You can’t access this room from the second floor?” You ask curiously, stepping into the space.

“No. Remodeled it so its only access point is from the back of the office. It’s just easier to live here than maintain rent on both the motel and an apartment. Cheaper. I knocked out one of the rooms to make more space so I could have a kitchen and everything too.”

The space does look like a small apartment and not a hotel room. It is comfortable, clean and organized. For the first time in hours, you relax slightly. There is something secure about this spot, a safe haven that isn’t easily accessible from the outside that offers protection.

“You want anything to eat or drink?” Chan offers, going over to the tiny kitchen, opening the fridge.

You haven’t eaten in hours but the idea of food still makes your stomach churn. You ask for a water and add, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into anything. I honestly just came here to sleep for the night.”

When he hands you the cup of water, your fingertips touch, and that butterfly feeling returns. He sits down at the table. You do as well, your hands curling around the drink, the cold seeping into your skin. The wind is still going outside like a beast refusing to sleep.

Chan looks at the two bags near your feet. “He said that you had something that belonged to his boss…are you in danger? Should we go to the police?”

“No!” You exclaim before trying to lower your voice, “I mean, no. No, let’s not bring the police into it, thanks. Uh…I don’t think that would work out very much in my favor…I’m not exactly innocent in this either.”

Chan’s eyes widen slightly although he doesn’t ask any follow up questions. You get the sense he is trying to respect your privacy but the idea of babbling the entire turn of events to a stranger you will never see again after tonight is threatening to boil over. He had looked out for you, after all, lying on the spot like that and creating a story that saved you from more trouble. Most people wouldn’t do something like that. You know that first hand.

You lean down and pick up one of the bags, heaving it onto the table with a solid thud. Unzipping it, you push the bag towards Chan who peers inside.

“Holy shit.” He mumbles at the stack of money inside, piles and piles of it. “You steal this?”

“Yes. My boss…I worked at his store. I knew it was suspicious and most likely a front but I didn’t really care. I just needed a job. I worked there for a year, turning the other cheek and pretending to be oblivious to shit going on. But earlier today…I went to the back room to put something away. A meeting had just finished. I knew what sort of meeting. But I just focused on keeping my head down and not attracting attention. I played the oblivious shop assistant. Until I saw the bag…it was on the table, open, all the money right there. I don’t know where my boss had gone. I think he had taken someone out back. Maybe the person who brought the money,” Now that you have started talking, the words can’t seem to stop. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. All that money. Right there. The first slip up I had ever seen at the store. This money could get me out of the country, to wherever I want, start a new life. No more shitty dead end jobs or working long hours for basically no pay.”

“So, you took it.��

“I took it. Right then and there. I just picked it up and strolled out of the shop, got in my car, drove home, packed a bag and hit the highway. It didn’t strike me…the gravity of what I had done, I mean, until I got on the highway. Then, I realized I must have lost my fucking mind. Of course, my boss would send people after me. If a shop assistant could steal from him and get away with it, anyone could. I wasn’t stupid. I knew he worked with criminals, was involved in God knows what himself, and I had just stolen from him.”

Chan whistles, leaning back in his chair, his eyes moving from the bag to your face. ‘What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to cross the nearest border and take a flight out of here. Don’t know where. Maybe a tropical island. That sounds nice. Just me, a bag of money, and the ocean. I don’t want to go to any of the airports near here because they’ll expect it.”

It is a relief to spill out the events of the day to someone. It is as if your boat has docked at Chan’s shore; you are here for a little while just to escape the reality you toppled into. You won’t ever see him again after tonight which gives a freedom you desperately need after the turn of events today.

“I know I just dumped a lot on you and put you around someone dangerous. I can pay you. Triple than whatever I paid for the room.”

But Chan shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I got enough from the guy after searching all the rooms. You’re the one in danger, not me. Keep the money.” He stands up, “You need extra blankets or anything? For the bed? I need to get some for the couch.”

You glance over at the couch, a pang of guilt at now having Chan sleep on something that he is much too large for on top of everything else that has occurred tonight.

“I’ll take the couch. Please. You’ve done enough.” You protest, “I’ve completely sidelined your night.”

“Oh, come on. It isn’t like every night I get to end up as a side character in someone’s main story.” Chan jokes and smiles at you for the first time.

The butterflies are twice as intense, to the point of distraction. You wish your brain would behave itself; there’s a time and a place to be noticing someone attractive and today of all days is not it. Even so, there is a heat in your body that is tugging your brain along a path that would lead nowhere. Like he said, you won’t see him past tonight – not just because you are leaving in the morning but because it is too dangerous to keep in touch with him once you’re gone.

“Right,” You say, taking a step back, “Well, I’m going to shower and change if that’s alright. Oh, and I need to charge my phone.”

Chan nods, saying to take as long as you need. Plugging your phone in to charge, ignoring all the messages pouring in, you turn away. In the bathroom, you undress, stepping underneath the hot water of the shower and closing your eyes. You think about the entire day, torn between regret about making such a snap decision that will impact your life forever and the fact that if you pull this off, your life will be changed in a positive way permanently. All you have to do is take it one step at a time until that plane takes off.

It had been one thing to be at the store, pretending to be clueless about who you were really working for. That made it easier to sleep at night, easier to stuff away all the small moments that made it evident you were working for the sort of people that didn’t hesitate to hurt others to get what they wanted. But once you stole the money there could be no more pretense. You knew the entire time where you had worked and allowed it because the money was good and you needed it. As soon as a better opportunity opened up, you snatched it, disregarding your own personal safety in the process. And even though you are now in danger, even though the odds are against you, there is no desire in turning back and trying to make amends or beg for mercy. You will see it through.

Your mind wanders back to Chan. You can’t shake the idea that after tonight, you won’t see him again – or if you do, it will be a very long time from now. Sleeping with him would be a one night thing. How can you be so bold as to steal money from mobsters but you can’t hit on him? After a day like this, blowing off steam is appealing. If he looks at me once in that way, I’ll go for it, you decide, getting out of the shower.

After changing into an oversized shirt and pajama shorts, you exit the bathroom. The TV is on at a low volume, and Chan is draping a blanket over the couch. He has changed into a black t-shirt and sweatpants; the fabric of his shirt rests in a way against his back that you realize how in shape he is.

He looks over his shoulder at you, “Was the shower okay?” He has removed his glasses; they are now resting on the night table.

“It was perfect, thanks.” You reply and he smiles again, his eyes crinkling a little. Okay, yes, he’s hot, you think, heading towards the bed, “Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the couch? I really don’t mind.”

“No, it’s okay, seriously.” Chan says and then, for a split second, his eyes drop to your exposed thighs before darting away back to the couch.

If you hadn’t decided in the bathroom that you wanted to fuck him and that the entire day is surreal enough to throw all pretense out the window to sleep with a man you just met, you would have missed the quick glance. But you take it as a green light that while his kindness since stumbling into his motel is just innately a part of him, checking out your thighs is something else entirely.

Buoyed by this, you take a step towards Chan, your fingers grazing the sleeve of his shirt. The minor touch gets his attention, his eyes lingering on your fingertips for a beat too long. It’s the equivalent of a green light in a desolate street – the sort of signal that means there are no obstacles ahead, no traffic or pedestrians to clog the road that leads directly to what you want. With the way the events unfolded today, who knows when a chance like this will present itself again?

“Your bed is pretty large. We could always share it if you’d want. That way you don’t have to sleep on the couch.” You say quietly, lowering your eyes in a faux innocent expression.

Chan’s breath catches very slightly, letting you know that he is aware of what you are suggesting. You bring your eyes upward, peering at him.

“I…hm, I don’t know if we should…do something like that. You’ve had a pretty tumultuous day. I wouldn’t want to add to it.” He finally replies quietly.

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t think you’d be adding to it.” You remark, your hand curling around the upper part of his arm, feeling the hard muscles underneath. “Come tomorrow morning, I’ll be far away from here. We can keep each other company just for tonight.”

The moment, encased in glass, hovers suspended around you. For a flash, you wonder if he is still going to refuse…not because you have misread the signs but because he is wondering if it will be too much for your eventful day to now end in sex. You were right when you guessed his kindness is just part of who he is and that he puts others before himself. But you want him to be selfish, to give into the pleasure so you can end the day with at least something that isn’t blind terror or pure anxiety.

Chan looks at your lips, slightly parted, waiting for a kiss. He brings one hand slowly to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your lips gently. Everything is now muted, including the wind outside and the noise from the TV. Then the glass shatters as Chan brings you closer in for a kiss.

There have been a few drunken kisses with people you just met in the past. Nothing much you have thought about once the morning came. This is different, of course. The situation you are in coupled with the fact you are completely sober and seeking out the comfort and security of someone you just met doesn’t compare to those drunken kisses.

Chan’s hands slide down your sides as the kiss deepens with an unexpected intensity, coming to rest on the small of your back. Your body is pressed against his, giving yourself permission to forget about the events of the day and losing yourself in him.

Chan’s large hands move downwards, gripping and squeezing your ass. He is stiff already in his sweatpants, hard against your bare thigh. You bring your arms around his neck, your fingertips brushing against his hair as your tongue meets his. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat, the sort of noise that men make when they are turned on that drives you crazy.

You take a step back to try to move closer to the bed, tugging Chan along with you. The kiss breaks, the two of you breathing heavily as you yank his shirt off, throwing it to the floor. You weren’t expecting someone running a dead end motel in the middle of nowhere to be so fit but you aren’t complaining. Running your hands down his chest, you bring your face forward, trailing kisses along his neck and to the curve of his shoulders. You like the bulge in his sweatpants, like seeing how hard he is even though you just met. You reach down to rub him through his sweatpants and he groans quietly as you squeeze his cock through the fabric.

His hands fumble with your shirt, and when it falls to the floor, he gropes your tits. His fingers run across your nipples, pinching them gently as he does so. Your brain is no longer buzzing as if you’ve had eight cups of coffee; all the concerns of the day are a faraway thing now that Chan is touching you like this.

He lowers his head, bringing his mouth to your nipples, biting them slightly before sucking on them. You sigh with delight, taking another step back and bringing him down on the bed along with you. Chan’s lips travel away from your tits, over your stomach to the top of your pajama shorts which he tugs down quickly, nudging your legs apart. Bringing one finger to the front of your underwear, he drags it down along your slit, taking note of how wet you are.

His thumbs hook into the band of your underwear, and a second later they are on the floor as well. Burying his face between your thighs, his tongue probes your wet folds before dipping into your hole to taste your cunt. He moves his tongue upwards to roll across your clit, driving a gasp out of you as your hands grip the blanket. You glance downward, seeing his broad shoulders and brown hair in between your legs as he inserts one finger in your wet pussy. The entire time he does this, Chan doesn’t stop working your clit with his tongue. Your legs wrap around his neck, pushing him against your cunt which elicits a muffled groan from in between your thighs.

When he speaks, his words hum against your clit. “You always let men you just met eat this sweet cunt of yours?” His finger begins to pump in your hole, nice and slow, as he sucks on your clit after speaking.

You arch your back from the pleasure, eyes fluttering closed, trying to form words in response. “Ah, n-no, today is just full of things I don’t normally do.” Your voice is higher pitched and uneven.

Chan pulls away, your legs moving from his neck as he slides up over your body, bringing his finger to rest against your lips. Opening your mouth, you can taste yourself against his skin. He watches with lust filled eyes as your tongue swirls around his finger. You are too impatient now, eager to have him fuck you. Your hand goes to the back of his head, your lips crushing against his in another passionate kiss. His hands run up along your naked body; the only thing separating the two of you is the fact he is still wearing sweatpants.

Your body shivers at his touch, responding to his fingers as if you have known him for ages instead of tonight. His hand snakes down the length of your body, fingers brushing against your clit just to make you squirm.

You moan into his mouth and he nips at your lips, whispering, “You’re a responsive little slut, aren’t you?”

The words make your head go light, your hips arching against his touch, wanting more, needing more. “Fuck me and see how well I respond.” You reply, reaching down to grab his cock through his pants.

Chan stiffens for a moment, his breath catching as two fingers enter your cunt. The next kiss is messy, tongue and teeth, as his fingers bury themselves in your tight wet hole.

“You ready for me to fuck you?” His lips are dragging down across your neck, his fingers pumping slowly in and out of your cunt.

“Yes, just fuck me already,” Your voice is ragged, impatient from waiting, every nerve alight from the way Chan is teasing you.

Removing his fingers, running his tongue across them to taste you himself, he quickly takes off his sweatpants and boxers, stroking his stiff cock. The tip of his dick glistens with precum, his hand wrapped around it as he jerks himself off at the sight of your naked body, your lips slightly swollen from kissing, pussy wet for him.

Positioning himself over you, your legs automatically wrapping around his hips, his cock rests at your entrance. You squirm slightly, and Chan smirks briefly, clearly enjoying how desperate you are. He slips inside easily, your wet cunt taking him in one motion of his hips. Your head rolls back, hands on his shoulders, moaning from the intensity of it. Chan rocks his hips slowly, exhaling a ragged breath as he does so.

His arms wrap around you, pulling your body against his as he begins to move his hips at a faster speed. The two of you are curled against one another, your hands skimming off his shoulders to his back, fingers splayed against his muscles. With each jerk of his hips, he rams his cock fully in your cunt, balls smacking against your skin, occasionally biting on your earlobe.

When you woke up this morning, there had been no doubt in your mind that the day was going to be an uneventful one. Never did you think it would spiral out by stealing money and end by taking the dick of a stranger. The thought secretly thrills you, your fingers digging into his skin.

“Aren’t you taking my cock well?” Chan growls in your ear as he fucks you relentlessly.

Your voice shaky from his thrusts, you reply, “I’m a good little slut.”

“You certainly are.” He rams his cock deep inside, going still for a moment just so you rock your hips urgently, trying to get him to move again.

But Chan pulls out of you entirely, pushing himself upwards so he is on his knees. He runs his fingers through his hair, cheeks puffed out for a moment as he exhales again. In the dim lighting of the room, the TV illuminating him from behind, you take a moment to check him out, eyes roaming his broad shoulders and toned chest.

“Why don’t you get on all fours for me? I want to watch your ass bounce on my cock.” He suggests as he strokes his hard cock once again.

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. Positioning yourself to his liking, Chan’s hands rest on your lower back, pressing down gently to raise your ass in the air higher. The next second, you can feel his length filling your cunt from behind. The angle is much more intense, your fingers gripping the blanket, bunching it in your hands for something to hold onto. Your head falls forward, a groan muffled as the entire length of him enters you balls deep. Chan’s hands grip your hips, grunting as he comes to a stop.

“Take my cock like a good slut, let me see you bounce on it.” Chan says in a low voice.

You rock back on his cock, fucking yourself on it, whimpering because you cannot go at the speed you’d prefer. You can hear how wet your cunt is as you bounce back, and Chan groans, his hold tightening on your hips. You are moaning, cursing as you take his cock, wiggling him as deep as he can go.

“Stop teasing me and fuck me already,” You whine.

He doesn’t reply but jerks his hips before moving them back against his cock. His hands go to your lower back, pressing downward more so that you are driven into the mattress as he begins to fuck you hard and fast. Your body goes limp underneath the thrusts, eyes closed in pleasure as Chan fucks you. You are glad the motel is empty because the noises that you are both making are far too loud. Chan drives his cock into your wet cunt, and the angle at which he is fucking you is making your toes curl in pleasure. You know that your orgasm is not far off by the way your thighs shake from the force of his thrusts and the angle that his cock hits.

You try to move your hips to meet his but he is fucking you too hard. Your body goes slack under his movements, knuckles white from gripping the blanket. Your pussy tightens around his cock and Chan inhales sharply, clearly holding back from climaxing.

“C-chan, I’m gonna…” You gasp out as he fucks you.

“Take my cock like a good whore and you’ll cum.” His voice is tense, thin as a wire, his balls full with his load.

He thrusts hard and deep in your cunt, driving you over the edge. You groan loudly, your orgasm starting. Your pussy grips his cock, squeezing around it as you cum, covering him in your juices as you wiggle backwards. The orgasm is overwhelming, pleasure blotting out everything else as you groan.

As you cum, Chan grunts roughly, pulling out and cumming across your ass. You can feel his load covering your skin, smearing against you as he finishes. There is a ton of it, spurting across your ass. You collapse into the bed face first as you come down from your orgasm, breathing heavily, feeling fucked out.

Chan lands next to you, tilting his face in your direction. “Was that okay?”

You want to laugh but are too tired, propping yourself up lazily. “No, I orgasmed because it was terrible.”

He smiles as you get out of bed, wanting to clean yourself up before falling asleep. In the bathroom, exhaustion is heavy on your bones. Between all the emotions of the day on top of getting fucked, you are ready to sleep.

Apparently so is Chan because he is fast asleep when you pad out of the bathroom. The TV bathes him in light, the sheet tossed lazily over his lower half, chest rising and falling steadily with the security of sleep. You get into bed next time, not bothering with the couch, all pretenses gone.

It takes you about half a second to fall asleep. You don’t dream.

“Are you sure I can’t do anything else?” Chan asks as you toss the bag filled with money into the passenger seat of your car.

“You’ve done enough, truly.” You say as you shut the door, turning to face him.

The sun is rising, coming over the hill in streaks of orange and pink, wiping away the dark like a water stain.

In the morning light, Chan still looks a bit sleepy. His glasses rest on the bridge of his nose, eyes looking thoughtful but not fully awake. His hair is slightly messy, and the only indication of the night before is a slight mark on his neck where you must have gotten carried away but don’t remember doing it. You lean forward a little, nudging the collar of his white button up over the mark.

“Wouldn’t want to look unprofessional.” You remark.

He smiles a little as you fix it before straightening up. “I guess I won’t know what happens with you, right?”

“Maybe if I make it, I’ll message you on your website,” You reply, “If that would be okay. Once I’m safe.”

“I’d like that,” He ducks his head shyly, “I hope to hear from you.”

“Me too.”

You wonder if things were different perhaps this would have been the start of something. But if things were different, you never would have met him. Chan would have remained at his motel and you would have remained in the city, the two of you oblivious to one another. At least this way you had him at all.

“See you around, Chan.” You say, circling around the car as Chan goes to stand by the front door of the lobby.

“See you around.” He echoes, giving you a small wave.

It is a comfort, you think as the motel recedes into the background and Chan grows smaller, that one person in the world knows what you are going through, that one person showed you kindness (and more) when you needed it the most…one night after the strangest day you ever had.

As you turn onto the highway yet again, you wonder where you’ll be in the world when you send Chan the message that you escaped safely.

Hopefully a tropical beach somewhere.

#stray kids fics #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan fics #kpop fic #just for tonight #100 notes

243 notes · View notes

yhwhsdaughter · 3 years

Text

Eunuch! Bum x Queen! Reader + King! Sangwoo

word count: 4.1k

tw: sangwoo, noncon, abuse of power, misogyny, murder, cheating, degradation, choking, cursing, minors dni

Ongoing…

[Chapter 2] , [Chapter 3]

Upon sliding the doors open, you were welcomed to blood spraying on your face. Droplets kissed your cheeks and if it was a calmer atmosphere, it would give the illusion of a blush. Reality, however, was much horrifying. Shocked by this, you stopped to assess the scene. Everyone was afraid to move a muscle as the king swung his sword, killing the chief state councilor with a stroke. As his body fell, more blood puddled at your feet, staining your slippers. Once the initial horror faded, you sprang forward, hugging Sangwoo’s midriff. “Your Majesty! Please stop this!” It was a brave or perhaps foolish action, interfering with your ruler. Words falling on deaf ears, he pushed you from him. The closest guard caught your form. Despite his absolute authority, killing nobles without reason, especially high ranking officers, was frowned on.

This is madness.

Your king was beauteous and cruel. A month into his ascension to the throne and he was already crumbling the ideals in which this nation was founded. Stray hairs hung around his chiseled face, tiny beads of sweat mixed with blood giving him a sadistic gleam as he grinned. Looking your way for a moment, he lazily waved at guards, “Take the Queen to her room.” Without a choice, the two of them gently nudged you from the scene. “Your Highness, please follow us.” Though their faces remained unmoving, their tone revealed their true feelings on the matter. Palm pressed against your mouth, you threw one last glance at the massacre before you. Blinking any lingering emotions, you walked away.

—

Pants filled the room as Sangwoo thrusted into you relentlessly. He was angry; even though he’d appointed new council members, he wasn’t sure he could trust them. In his mind, everyone was after his crown. You were angry as well, but for an entirely different reason.

You laid bare before your king, the fine robes that adorned your body pushed aside revealed your soft breasts; legs spread showed the path to your royal cunt. It disgusted you, thinking how many women had been in this bed, in your same position. Though the silk sheets were pristine, it could never truly wash away the sin. He grunted, “Stop overthinking. Just focus on—” he was close “—taking my seed, it’s all that matters.” Uncaring about your pleasure, Sangwoo bent you into an uncomfortable position, one that allowed his member to penetrate your walls at a deeper angle.

You allowed it.

The two of you, mostly you, were under incredible pressure to conceive. Not just a child, but a male heir. The fact that you hadn’t produced a son for the king was worrying to your mother. She wrote, often. It’s all she could talk about in her letters nowadays; there was fear in her that you would suffer as she did. Four miscarriages, three stillbirths, and then you. Highly superstitious, your mother believed that her misfortune was the price for the murder of the heirs by concubines in a fit of jealousy.

“Put a baby in me Sangwoo.”

You nearly begged, if only to end this. Making love wasn’t an option, nor your life a fairytale. No. King Sangwoo only fucked, and in the most inconvenient places too. You’ll never forget the embarrassment endured when you had tea with several noblewomen; your gracious king thought it would be appropriate to do it in a room adjacent to theirs. He bent you over a desk, throwing everything else off it, before sheathing himself inside of you. Emerging twenty minutes later, you couldn’t even look the ladies in the eyes. No one said anything, lest they lose their heads, but they knew.

Spurred by your words, Sangwoo thrusted faster and harder. “Fuuuck.” He stayed attached to you, like a dog, making sure your womb swallowed every last bit of his essence before pulling out. “Get pregnant.” Is all he said to you as he dressed again and exited the chambers. Out of breath and without a care, you laid there on the bed.

—

A life of servitude awaited YoonBum the second he was born. His poverty stricken parents sold him to be a household slave. Doomed to this fate, Bum tried his best to follow through and avoid punishments. Unfortunately, his master was a sadist and everyday, he received a beating.

After running errands, Bum stood in line to receive the bags of rice his master had ordered. It was the last thing on his list before readying to go home and continue working. Being close by, he couldn’t help but overhear several gentlemen talking, “Where is that damned village?!”

The village in question, it seems, was Bum’s hometown. Because it was a tiny place full of peasants and criminals, cartographers didn’t bother putting it on a map. Only those that came from there knew the area. Sangwoo caught him staring. Quickly glancing away, Bum only saw the man motioning to his companions from the corner of his eye. In a matter of seconds, he was facing the man. He was dressed in purple robes and a gat, symbolizing his status. “Do you know where this village is?”

Daring not to look him in the eye, Bum was slow to nod. He’d been out long enough; his master was probably marching towards the market to drag him home. “Show me.” As guessed, a heavy man came barreling in their direction. He was red in the face. “Bum!” Master Yoon screamed obscenities. Coming to a stop, he sneered at the men.

“We need your servant.”

Though the statement seemed like a request, Sangwoo’s tone made it clear that it was an order. The balding man huffed, ready to curse him out and refuse when Sangwoo showed his name tag. It was made of a cool stone, Oh Sangwoo engraved with the royal crest. The fact that was once red turned pale in realization. Meek before his ruler, Mister Yoon had no choice but to relent. “We’ll be taking him then.”

Bum felt his humanity slip away as he was given to another man so easily. With his head bowed down, he followed this strange new path forged by the man in purple robes.

—

The Heavens decided to smile on YoonBum when he saved the king’s life.

It was an accident, really. The guards felt no threat to the approaching figure in the form of a frail, old lady who was an assassin in disguise. YoonBum saw the knife before they did, jumping in front of Sangwoo.

Adrenaline in his system, Bum didn’t realize he was stabbed till he felt warmth seeping through his rags. Looking down, red spread around the area. It hurt. Badly. Bum’s legs felt like noodles; the little energy he had left his body as he collapsed onto the dirt. Even breathing was painful. His intervention set things in motion. One of the bodyguards chased down the assassin, two stood by Sangwoo and another leant down to help him. He must’ve asked something important but Bum couldn’t hear him clearly. It’s like he was submerged underwater. The last thing he saw before his vision turned black, was Sangwoo staring at him with interest.

He woke up in the nicest room he’s ever been.

The king didn’t visit him personally but he was sent a letter. Red overtook his face as he was forced to admit he didn’t know how to read. The servant relayed the contents, stating that when he was recovered, he would serve the king closely. From someone of his birth, it was the best he could get. YoonBum suddenly felt immensely grateful; he would no longer sleep in a shed with the pigs but a real mat! The pain on his side reminded him of the price he’d paid for this position, but he was used to being hurt. At least now it served to help him.

As the moment of glee passed, Bum realized he didn’t quite know the etiquette of serving the king. Joy left his body as he wondered how he would figure it out.

Like him, Sangwoo was plagued by this constant state of unhappiness. After the attempt on his life, he would think his subjects would be glad to see him breathing but instead he got murmurs of concern. What if he’d died? Who would’ve taken the throne since there was no heir? It would’ve thrown the palace into chaos.

Their silent pleas did not go unheard. “Maybe I should have them killed. Them and their entire families—” he paused when he saw you in the gardens, smiling at one of your ladies. His heart twisted. Sangwoo couldn’t explain it, but he always got the urge to inflict pain on you. He could say it stemmed from a place of resentment. How hard was it to get pregnant? If you gave him a son, he wouldn’t be pestered by these old fucks. Not to mention, your face contorting in distress was intoxicating—not even the concubines could compete with that.

Beneath his robes, his cock twitched with excitement. Oh, how he was going to enjoy this. Approaching your unsuspecting figure, he threw a dazzling smile to your courtesans. Sangwoo knew how to use his assets advantageously. Despite the suffering he caused, people were rendered speechless by his charm and good-looks.

He was like a snake, slithering towards his prey, waiting to attack. You did not hear him coming till you saw your ladies-in-waiting bowing. Greeting him appropriately, you expressed your relief. “Your Highness, I am glad to see you unharmed.”

It’d been a while since you last saw him; when he arrived, the rumour about the assassin spread like wildfire. “My Queen, you are truly a vision. These flowers have nothing on your beauty. You are proof that absence makes the heart grow fonder.” His honeyed words felt like prodding the bees’ nest. If you weren’t careful, you would be stung.

The only times he was this affectionate was when he wanted something. He played the same lovestruck role with your father to convince him of marrying you. Sending your ladies off, Sangwoo dropped his smile. His expression was replaced with desperation. Pulling on your wrist, the two of you traversed to your quarters since they were closer. “Ah!” Thrown harshly onto the bed, you hardly had time to compose yourself before he was mounting you. “Let’s put your cursed womb to good use.” A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you without warning. Your hands formed to fists, grabbing onto the sheets for dear life. It hurts, it hurts!

“Your Majesty! Please— aaah! Be more gentle..!”

Without seeing his face, you could already picture his cruel smirk. “You were born a disappointment. The least you could do is serve your purpose as my wife and bear me an heir.” His words angered you. Managing to twist away, you tried to escape his iron grip. This only resulted in you being pushed onto your back. Sangwoo pried your legs open and realigned himself.

Slap!

Sangwoo’s eyes widened with disbelief. The stinging in his cheek somehow made his pulse beat faster. Hands wrapping around your throat, he squeezed. “You should treat your king with more reverence. It would be a shame if the nation lost its queen. Especially one who can be easily replaced.” Having been the youngest war general, Sangwoo had strength to spare. Your hands seemed small as they banged on his form, silently begging to release you.

Having your life in his hands gave him the edge he needed to cum. With a low moan, Sangwoo emptied himself inside you. In turn, you couldn’t even focus on anything else other than breathing, choking as you gasped for air that you’d previously been deprived of. Knowing that he was capable of committing the worst, death seemed better than staying by his side.

“Perhaps I am not the problem, Your Majesty.”

Your voice was raspy but it rang clear across his majesty’s mind. Your words struck deep, like a knife embedded in his brain. It created a wound that would eventually fester. “Shut up.”

As if to disprove your point, he visited every concubine, not leaving until none of them were left untouched. He needed a son, one way or another, and if you wouldn’t give it to him, he would seek it elsewhere.

—

YoonBum was mostly healed; if anything, it appeared he’d been forgotten after a week of rest. The medic was currently tending to his wound, “It's healing nicely. A few more days and you should be out of here.”

The two of them turned at the sound of the door sliding open, immediately bowing at Her Highness’ entrance.

“Your Majesty, how can I be of use?” It was a bit surprising to see you there; your medical checkup wasn’t till another month. He wondered if you were feeling ill. Fabric wrapped around your neck; the weather was tepid, even inside the palace. That’s when he noticed the purple marks that peeked from under the material. Aware of his pointed stare, you moved the scarf upwards to conceal it. “I need you to acquire these medicinal herbs for me.” Taking the list, he read it carefully. How odd. Before he could ask what they were for, you added, “Your discretion would be appreciated.”

“Of course.”

Bum sat there silently, head facing the floor when you acknowledged him. “Are you the man that saved my husband?” Snapping upwards, he sputtered before letting out a quick “Yes!” Finally having a chance to gaze at your face, Bum felt himself turning red. Dressed in the finest silks from head to toe, standing with an air of regalness, was you. Unlike the king, there was warmth in you. Being in the presence of such a being felt unreal.

At first glance, the young man seemed no different than the other servants. However, his pink cheeks reminded you of innocence that one so rarely saw in the palace, which was filled with betrayal and resentment. His disposition was kind of endearing. You hoped he would remain like this, untainted by the world. “Then I must thank you.”

At your words, Bum’s figure lowered, forehead touching the wood. “Y-your Highness is too kind!” This position caused him a stab of discomfort, applying pressure to his wound yet he refused to straighten up. Noticing, you motioned at him, “Don’t force yourself.”

With that brief interaction, you were gone.

Entering your chambers, you signaled for the maid. Unwrapping the silk bandages, you stared at the mirror. Your husband’s marks served as a reminder of who held the power in this union. The young woman kneeled before you, taking a round brush and rolling it in powder. Although her ministrations were gentle, you couldn’t help but hiss when it applied pressure to your tender skin. “Forgive this servant, Your Majesty!”

“Don’t mind it. Continue.”

—

The king was anxious.

It was one thing for you to not get pregnant, but he’d been keeping busy and there was still no news of concubines with child. Reminded and bothered by your words, he summoned the royal physician. Sangwoo believed he wasn’t the problem, he just needed confirmation. What did you know? He wanted an expert to say that he was fulfilling his duties as king and it was everybody else that lacked.

“I’m sorry to say this, Your Highness.. but you’re infertile.”

With great effort, Sangwoo stopped himself from strangulating the doctor. It was impossible. A frown etched itself in Sangwoo’s face, his handsome features twisting into something scary. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t make sense; as a healthy male in his prime, Sangwoo shouldn’t have a problem fathering as many children as he could. There were several causes that may have caused his infertility, especially since he was a war general but the fact remained that he could not produce children.

Only an heir of royal blood could be king.

He forced the poor man to do every test available to ensure this. The result was the same. Again. And again. “You must not be doing your job right.” As the guards dragged the pleading man, a piece of paper fell from the medics’ robes during the struggle. Picking it up, Sangwoo recognized your handwriting.

“What’s this?”

There was temporary relief in the man’s face as Sangwoo stopped in front of him. “That.. the Queen requested a few me-medicinal herbs.” It didn’t sit right with Sangwoo. Why on earth would you need this shit? The physician seemed hesitant to answer his question. A rough push finally ushered him to say, “Alone these herbs are fine, but mixed..”

As requested, the herbs were delivered to you by the doctor’s assistant. The timing was perfect too. “Why didn’t your master deliver these himself?” Nervous, the boy stuttered a few excuses before asking for permission to leave. That should’ve raised flags in your head but you wanted the plan to work. You needed it to work.

The king had finally taken time out of his busy schedule to visit you, and not just to copulate. He was kind enough to accept your invitation to have a picnic at the pavilion. It was surrounded by a grand lake and vividly green trees; a true landscape.

Sangwoo arrived with a familiar man at his side. You realized you never asked for his name, though that was easily fixed when Sangwoo made a vague motion towards him. “That’s Bum.” He was dressed in green and Sangwoo in red. In comparison to their bright colors, you wore a soft pastel pink, denoting your sophisticated features.

Sitting down, you signaled the servant to begin pouring the soup. Sangwoo raised a brow, curious, “You’re not going to eat?” Listening to your response, a smile appeared on his face. “I wanted to make a special meal for Your Highness, from the bottom of my heart.” It was unnerving, the way he looked at you. Still, you never lost composure, waiting patiently for him. That is, until he asked Bum to lean down and try it. Obedient, the male did so without question. Eyes widening, you managed to stop Bum from tasting. Your hand held onto his wrist tightly—the spoon hovering centimeters from his lips. A few droplets spilled onto the wooden table. Sangwoo tilted his head to the side, innocent expression in tow. “Something wrong?”

Everything is wrong!

Sangwoo knew. You didn’t know how, but of this, you were sure. Fear is what he wanted and you weren’t going to give it to him. “This meat in this broth was especially prepared for His Royal Highness. It shouldn’t go to waste on someone else.” The tip of Bum’s ears burned from embarrassment. He was under the impression you were a benevolent queen; instead, he was reminded of his lowly status. Of course he couldn’t eat the expensive meat, a peasant like him wouldn’t know how to appreciate the flavor. The hurt on his face was evident but he turned to the king, awaiting further instructions. Sangwoo wasn’t fazed, “Don’t be silly.”

Taking the spoon, Sangwoo offered it to you.

You stared at it, unmoving. Sangwoo poked your lips, “Who else but the Queen would be worthy to try such delicacy?” He was baiting you, daring you to deny or confess. Neither was an option. Grabbing the spoon from him, you slowly opened your mouth and dropped the contents inside. Sangwoo’s eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing. “Swallow.” Damn him to hell. Before you could do such a thing, a guard interrupted. Apparently there were news concerning Yang Seungbae, a traitor to the crown; he was spotted near a town on the outskirts of the forest.

Sangwoo hated him. More than anyone. That bastard was working hard to rally forces that would conspire against him. While things were peaceful at court, Sangwoo had felt a shift ever since the assassination attempt. His eye twitched in annoyance, though you weren’t entirely positive if it was because of Seungbae or the fact that he’d been interrupted. Sitting completely still, you watched as Sangwoo whispered to Bum before leaving. As soon as he was gone, you grabbed a handkerchief and spit out the soup. This action worries a few servants but you waved them off. “It’s cold.” They couldn’t understand as you ordered them to throw it, seeing as it was perfectly edible. Such a waste, disposing of such good meat.

Bum followed you like a lost puppy. The first night Sangwoo bedded him, YoonBum experienced true love. It wasn’t gentle; the king’s touch harbored no hatred but passion. Bum had never felt like that. It made him feel special; the ruler of the country placed his lips and strong hands on his skinny body. He had a queen, concubines, and still, he went to him. Elated couldn’t begin to describe how Bum felt. His feelings for his king were all-consuming. Since then, he’d made a promise to follow every order Sangwoo asked of him. Bum didn’t have anything against you, truly, but his loyalty laid with his king.

On their way back, they encountered Imperial Concubine Min Jieun. The crowd following her greeted you respectfully, and while she did so too, there was a triumphant smirk on her face. Nodding in acknowledgment, you continued walking, enjoying nature. The sun warmed your skin, making you forget about any worries, if only for a moment. Once the group was out of earshot, you glanced at your companion. “What was that about?” It was no secret how spoiled Min Jieun was; she was a woman of noble birth, groomed to perfection. That’s the facade she chose to wear instead of the power hungry bitch she was. Envy burned in every particle of her body. She wanted you out of the picture—she wanted to be queen and mother of Sangwoo’s children. Still, your position commanded respect. Your lady leaned in, whispering, “There’s rumors that she’s with child.”

“Oh.”

Bum watched your composed reaction with intrigue. He could understand if you held a grudge towards her. He did. You would always be first to the king, so he had to accept that. Bum knew it was the way things ran. However, he couldn’t say the same for the other concubines. They had the chance to bear Sangwoo’s child. Bum only wished he could do so too. Alas, this resentment made him feel guilty because the concubines were amicable women—well, except Min Jieun. He didn’t realize that they were shackled to this restrictive lifestyle; that they had no choice but to make the best of the situation.

“Is there something you want to say?”

Almost jumping at the sudden sound of your voice, Bum gazed around to see who you were talking to. Finding your clear eyes on him, he realized you’d seen through him. “Uh.. n-no, Your Majesty..”

“Say it.”

“How.. how does Your Majesty handle it?”

Though the question itself was vague, you got the gist. “Queens are expected to rise above such earthly emotions.” You had a solemn expression and the grip around your fan tightened, “Jealousy is futile.”

Nodding, Bum felt like he’d swallowed vinegar. This revelation left him in deep thought. Perhaps that was the difference between royals and peasants; possessiveness was quick to overtake him while you had to live with the knowledge that your husband would seek the company of others.

Hm, maybe he was right not to envy you.

—

“The Queen has fallen ill.”

It was so sudden; you were so healthy one day and the next, chills racked your body, fever uncontrollable. The court tried to be positive on the matter but it wasn’t looking good. Sangwoo was advised to refrain from visiting you—if he got sick too, it would affect the entire nation. “I will see my wife as I see fit.”

“Open the door and step aside.”

He was like an angel of death, entering with eerie calmness. Even through the soft curtains he could see your weakened form. You looked thinner, unable to eat. The physicians tried to get you to consume anything but it was just regurgitated in minutes.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat next to you.

“Did you eat something bad?” He caressed your face, pushing hairs away that stuck due to the sweat. Fingers tightening on the blankets, you managed to open your mouth. “Congratulations.” Lips pale and cracked, you smiled sardonically. Sangwoo wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve heard news that Concubine Jieun is pregnant.”

A dark look crossed his face. “Is that so?” He stood, “Perhaps I should pay her a visit.” Though his tone was mocking, there was something bothering Sangwoo. Fortunately for the king, you were too woozy to think straight. Leaning down, Sangwoo placed a hand behind your neck, lifting you just a bit, enough to kiss your lips.

“Don’t die.”

#oh sangwoo #sangwoo x yoonbum #sangwoo x reader #sangwoo #yoonbum x you #yoonbum x y/n #yoonbum x reader #killing stalking yoonbum #killing stalking #ks yoonbum #ks sangwoo #yang seungbae #king x reader

578 notes · View notes

silversatoru · 3 years

Note

Ok ok- don’t judge me but get this- College AU, Where Ereh and his friends all go to a nearby maid cafe and turns out his s/o works there, and his s/o is wearing a EXTREMELY short maid outfit and she starts to flirt with Eren’s friends, and basically Eren had enough and dragged his s/o to a bathroom stall, and fucked them calling y/n their little slut, etc. and fucked them so hard they couldn’t work the rest of the day- BYE- 🏃🏻‍♀️ 💨 🚪

maid cafe

a/n: i would never judge you for this???? your mind is incredible and this idea has corrupted my brain for days,, please send more of your wonderful ideas to my inbox. and please let me know what u think bc i truly hope i did u proud

eren yeager x female maid cafe!reader

synopsis: eren and his friends go to a maid cafe and his new girlfriend is their waitress — so he drags her to the bathroom and makes sure she knows who she belongs to

tags/warnings: smut, dom/sub, degrading, mild humiliation, mirror sex, public sex, mentions of drug use

word count: 3.4k

“hey, we should check out that maid cafe downtown. i heard the waitresses are fine,” jean smirked as he proposed the idea, passing a blunt he’d just finished rolling over to eren.

eren graciously accepted the weed, but clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at jean’s new idea for their friday night. a maid cafe wasn’t particularly up his alley -- he’d just started dating you a few weeks ago and didn’t have any interest in drooling over other women all night. but he was bored and if everyone else wanted to go, he supposed he’d tag along too.

“hell yeah, pretty girls in short skirts sounds good to me,” connie jived, a giddy smile on his face as he blew out some smoke from his own blunt.

“don’t you think that kind of place is a little disrespectful, guys? we shouldn’t view women as-”

“you’re too uptight armin, maybe we can find a nice girl to suck you off and loosen you up a little bit” jean laughed and cut him off as the blonde boy continued to give his immature friends a disapproving look.

“whatever i’m in, just let me finish this first,” eren held up his blunt and took another long drag, “i wont be able to stand you assholes all night if im not high”.

the four of them hung around their shared four-bedroom college apartment a little longer, finishing up their smoke sesh and flinging half-assed insults at one another. the sky was already getting dusky by the time they actually left and were walking through the small, bustling town surrounding their campus. the cafe wasn’t too far, maybe a thirty minute walk, but it was a beautiful spring night and shit, gas is expensive.

armin’s face was horribly flushed when they finally arrived and entered the front door, the poor boy completely unable to even make eye contact with the hostess standing in front of them. his shyness earned him a swift elbow from eren — his way of telling the blonde boy to relax a little bit.

the young hostess spoke to them in a sing-song tone, her hair perfectly curled to frame her face and her cheeks pink with blush. connie and jean completely ate up everything she was doing, gawking at her like a bunch of losers who hadn’t gotten laid in way too long — which is exactly what they were. eren was almost relieved when she finally sat them at a table and walked away, because he couldn’t stand to listen to jeans' horrendous attempt at flirting any longer.

everything on the menu had cute names that matched the theme of the cafe, and while eren and armin browsed the options, connie and jean continued to whisper about the different waitresses and which one they hoped they got.

as for you, it had been a pretty uneventful night, normal customers and nothing too crazy — that was until you walked up to the newest table you were assigned and saw your boyfriend and his friends sitting around the booth. eren and you hadn’t been dating all that long, a few weeks at most, and you hadn’t even met any of these friends yet. anxiety began to pool in your chest, but you tried your best to put on your best voice and greet them like they were any other table — after all, eren was staring so intently at the menu that he hadn't even noticed you yet.

“welcome home, masters! can i get any drinks for you?” you push your voice up to a high octave and make sure to draw out the word masters — it was the opening line that every waitress was required to use by the cafe.

two of the four boys are ogling at you so intensely that they might as well have drool hanging off their desperate lips. a third boy is keeping his eyes fixated on the table as if he doesn’t want to look at you — which is something you’re not quite used to. and eren is staring at you with his mouth gaping open, which he quickly shuts before any of his friends can notice.

he decided to sit back and watch, an amused look on his face as you continue to flaunt your extra-girly facade. he decides that now isn’t a great time for introductions to his bonehead friends — plus he knows you’re nothing like this in real life, so it’s entertaining to watch you act so out of character.

not to mention you look hot as fuck in your skimpy maid outfit — the tight corset-like top hugged your breasts perfectly and your skirt was so short he could practically see the base of your ass cheeks. he could definitely get used to seeing you like this.

but his amusement quickly started to fade as connie and jean shamelessly showered you in compliments and flirted with you like their lives depended on it. and what makes it worse is you’re playing along — he gets that it’s your job but still, can’t you just tell them to shut the fuck up?

he shoots the two idiots across from him a dirty look as soon as you walk away, “hey dumbasses, cut the girl a break”.

“hey man, i didn't hear you call dibs or anything,” connie raised an eyebrow at him.

“yeah dude, we’re just fucking around, chill,” jean added, a light laugh hanging off his last word.

eren couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes in response. he didn’t want to outright expose your relationship yet but he wouldn’t be able sit here and watch this all night either.

his blood was practically boiling when you returned with a tray full of their drinks. connie and jean turned their charms right back on for you, and fuck, if he had to hear you call them “master” one more time he was gonna lose his mind.

“armin get the fuck out of the booth,” he glared at the blonde boy, practically pushing him out of the booth so he could get to you.

armin yet out a small yelp, clambering out of his seat and letting eren climb out after him. the dark haired boy gave you the sweetest smile, but his eyes were lit up like flames.

“hey, mind showing me where the bathrooms are?”

you find yourself frozen in place for just a second, but quickly recover and give him a quick “of course master, follow me!”

the two of you walk to the bathroom in silence, but you can practically feel the heat radiating off of eren.

when you reached the restrooms you opened the door for him and bowed your head, but he grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside behind him, earning a small yelp from you. you noticed him snap the lock down behind him, and before you could even question his motives you were backed into a wall with his lips working roughly against yours.

“so this is what you do all day? walk around with your ass hanging out while calling people master?” he growled in your ear while moving down towards your neck and placing violent kisses along the sensitive skin.

“i- ah- if it bothers you-“ you breath out between gasps, your hands pressed defensively to his chest, “god, you reek of pot, eren”.

“no, it doesn't bother me, i love watching you flirt with other men. but let me remind you who you actually belong to now,” he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nibbled up to your ear and his hands fondled with the zipper at the back of your uniform.

“eren!” a strangled yelp leapt from your throat as he unzipped you and let your costume fall around your ankles.

for a second you thought about trying to stop him, but his hot lips against your cool skin was starting to win you over. your neck was undoubtedly covered in bruised love marks now, your skin aching in the most beautiful way.

“take it all off,” he mumbled into your ear as he snapped the strap of your bra against your skin.

“we’re in a bathroom eren, i don’t-“ you tried to reason with him, but any inkling of a rational thought was long gone from his mind.

“what’s with all the protests? you had no problem following orders when my friends were the ones giving them,” he cocked an eyebrow at you and lifted his loose shirt over his head in one swift motion.

you could have retorted or made a jab back at him, but your attention was caught up in the perfect lines of eren’s physique. between the sculpted curves of each of his muscles, his dark hair tied in a loose knot at the base of his neck, and the evil smirk across his lips, you were rendered indefensible. everything about eren was so intoxicating, and the idea of letting him have his way with you right now, in this bathroom, was starting to sound less and less like a bad idea. you weren’t sure how long you’d been staring and admiring when his lusty voice filled your ears again.

“did you forget how to use that pretty mouth of yours? i’m sure i can give you a little refresher,” he faked a frown and pointed to the floor with his index finger.

without a shred of reluctance you sunk to his feet. he had you in a state of utter compliance now, and all he had to do was mutter a few arrogant words and take off his shirt — you were almost ashamed, almost.

after a few smooth movements of his fingers against the drawstrings of his sweats, the tip of his member was hanging mere centimeters from your face. you glanced up at him with giant eyes as he stared down at you with his clouded ones. between his raging hunger for your body and the high that was still clouding his mind, there wasn't a single coherent thought in eren’s head other than the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“open up, princess. if you wanna act like a slut, i’ll treat you like one,” he grabbed the back of your head and forced it forward.

your lips parted without even thinking, and he thrusted his full length down your throat without any warning. you were left coughing and sputtering, the walls of your throat constricting against his cock and sending a few curses from his lips.

he slowed down slightly after that, but kept a steady pace as he mouth-fucked you until tears were leaking down your cheeks. you were gagging and coughing and your face was stained with salty saline but you loved every second of it. his head rolled back as raspy grunts fell from between his teeth, his fist tightening at your scalp.

after he thought you’d finally had enough he pulled back and released your hair from his steel grip. his cock was aching now, coated in a thick layer of your sticky saliva and yearning for more.

“get on the counter,” he ordered, and you scrambled to your feet in a way that was embarrassingly desperate.

you boosted yourself up onto the cool countertop, positioned perfectly between two sinks and leaning back against the mirror. eren placed a firm grip on each of your legs, shoving them open and snickering at the slick patch of fabric between your thighs.

“you like being treated like a whore, don’t you?” he clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and reached down at your panties before yanking them off in one fell swoop.

he squatted down so his face was level with your cunt, sticking out his tongue and dragging it up to your clit with antagonizing slowness. he moved the warm muscle up and down, sliding it between your folds and in circles around your clit — but his tongue was just barely making contact. and every time you bucked your hips towards him, begging and yearning for just a little more he’d pull his head back and click his tongue at you.

you were aching, leaking, and so incredibly needy for him and he knew it. he’d transformed you into the crumpled mess laying before him in a matter of minutes, and he was very proud of it.

“i’d start begging if i were you, or i’ll leave you here like this — a stupid broken slut with no one to fuck her,” he stood up and cocked his head to the side before beginning to tease your entrance with a single finger.

“ah- eren, please! i’ll do whatever you want,” you whimpered at him, a pitiful look on your face.

“eren? you know you’re not supposed to call customers by their name here,” he shook his head, “you’ll have to do better than that”.

“please- master, use me however you want. just please fuck me already”.

that seemed to suffice for eren, because after that it didn’t take long for him to shealth himself inside you and have your sweaty back slamming into the glass mirror behind you. strangled moans and pitiful whimpers slipped from between your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head in complete bliss. he’d teased and tormented you for so long that the sudden intense stimulation was almost too much.

he fucked himself into you so hard you thought you might break — your legs ached and your back hurt from awkwardly leaning into the mirror. but those feelings were quickly pushed to the back of your head because the overwhelming pleasure was so forceful that you could barely focus on anything else. eren’s length was grinding deep into your aching caverns so good that it was completely clouding your brain.

you let out a stifled gasp when he abruptly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more.

“why-,” your voice was so destitute and so, so desperate.

“shut up and stand in front of me,” he commanded, pulling you off the counter and twisting you so you were facing the bathroom mirror.

“look at yourself in the mirror and watch me fuck you,” he practically snarled, placing a palm on your back and pushing your chest down against the counter, “look at how much of a slut you are for me”.

the only response that came out of your mouth was a tiny whine of acceptance — it was pathetic.

a breathy moan fell from your lips as he slid back in, and your cheeks blushed a dark shade of red as you watched yourself get fucked from behind. it was embarrassing, humiliating even, having to see yourself like this, but what made it even worse was that you fucking liked it.

“look at yourself,” he nodded towards the mirror, picking up his pace and tightening his grip on your hips, “just a dumb whore who’s good for nothing but taking orders from other people”.

“only- you!” you let out a strangled yelp.

“what was that? i don’t think i heard you,” he thrusted hard, reaching deeper than he had the entire time and then leaning over your back so his head was positioned right next to yours.

“say it again,” he murmured, burning holes through your eyes with how intensely he was staring at you in the mirror.

“i’m a dumb whore, but only for- you,” you repeated, squirming and whining at the painful pleasure he was forcing into you.

“that’s right,” he flashed you a satisfied grin, standing back up and resuming his original pace.

the sudden shift had you clawing at the smooth countertops — desperately wishing you had a pillow or sheet to grasp onto for some kind of support. you flinched when you felt a couple of his cool fingertips find your clit, immediately rubbing hasty circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“i want you to come for me,” he locked eyes with you in the mirror again, “and i want you to think about how i’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good the entire time”.

his words were harsh but they sounded like honey when they flowed through your pathetically devoted ears. between his consistent thrusts and the pads of his fingers working their magic, you were a pitiful mess of whimpers and moans in a matter of minutes. your body twitching and legs shaking as you mumbled his name over and over — it was the only word your brain could comprehend right now.

seeing you like that nearly pushed eren over the edge himself, but he forced himself to last a little longer, wanting to milk your orgasm for everything that it was. he was genuine when he said no one else would ever make you feel the way he could — your head was spinning and your body was on a high that felt like it would never end.

only once your body finally fell limp and tired, signifying that your climax had ended, did he pull out and spray his seed all over your exposed back. you were a sticky, sweaty mess and your legs didn’t have the strength to stand even after eren was done coming down from his own high.

your face was buried in your arms when you felt a wet paper towel cleaning up the mess of semen off your back. eren tossed the towel into the garbage and wrapped his arms under your torso so he could help your pitiful self stand up. you let out a few pained whimpers, stumbling into his arms and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“that bad, huh? how are you gonna go back out there and work for all your masters? i’m sure they’re waiting,” he smirked at you, and there was no sympathy in his voice.

“i- i don’t think i can,” you whined, clinging to him as your legs continued to shake underneath you.

eren shook his head and clicked his tongue, helping you over to your clothes and assisting you with getting back into your uniform. even after getting dressed your legs refused to work — you were a shaky, stumbling mess. you sat in a pitiful heap against the tiled wall while you watched eren get his own clothes back on.

“i think you might need a new job,” he snickered, squatting down and lifting you onto his back once he was dressed.

you graciously climbed onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and burying your face into his neck, “yeah, yeah i’ll get a new job”.

“good idea, because everyone’s about to see how pathetic you are as we walk through the cafe,” he wrapped his arms back under your backside to support your weight.

“there’s a back exit right down the hall, please take that one,” you begged, “please”.

“well. since you asked so nicely and did so well i guess you deserve that,” he complied, exiting the bathroom and following your directions to the back door.

but because you have the worst luck in the world, one of the cafe managers came walking right around the corner just as the two of you were about to leave. you buried your head deeper into eren’s neck, unbearable amounts of embarrassment and shame flooding your veins.

“hey man, she quits, sorry!” eren yelled and handled it for you, dashing out the back door before the manager could even comprehend what he’d just seen.

“thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, and you were truly thankful that you didn’t have to speak for yourself in there.

“no problem, princess,” he adjusted one of his hands so he could squeeze your ass, making you jump against his back, “let’s head back to my house for round two, yeah?”

“r-round two?” you stuttered.

you could barely handle round one, and he was ready to go again? how!?

“i’m joking, relax. let’s go watch a movie or something,” he chuckled, hoisting you higher on his back and beginning your long walk back to his apartment.

you sighed and sunk into his back, that sounded nice. there was a huge difference in how eren acted earlier and how he was acting now, but you were a sucker for both personalities. you expected college to consist of classes and work and maybe a few new friends but meeting eren yeager was sure to make it a lot more interesting.

#attack on titan smut #aot smut #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin smut #eren yeager #eren #eren yeager smut #eren smut #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren x reader smut #smut #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager x you #attack on titan x reader

1K notes · View notes