Tumgik
#artist: between the buried and me
Tumblr media
Tracklist:
Mirrors • Obfuscation • Disease, Injury, Madness • Fossil Genera - A Feed From Cloud Mountain • Desert Of Song • Swim To The Moon
Spotify ♪ YouTube
9 notes · View notes
amber-lucca44 · 1 year
Text
Song of the day: "The Decade Of Statues" - Between The Buried And Me
Artist of the day: Fightstar ❤️
4 notes · View notes
sscarletvenus · 7 months
Text
shein has taken down the selling of the israeli flag, stopped its collaborations with the country's influencers and also cancelled free delivery services to the country. do you know how fucking insidious you have to be for SHEIN to cut ties with you??? SHEIN???!!!
it makes me physically ill. a Palestinian on twitter's last post was about burying their six-year-old cousin without his head. a Palestinian boy on youtube dreamt of 100k subscribers on his gaming channel. and yesterday he reached 500k, but he has been killed in the bombing of the gaza strip. the class of 2023-24 in Palestine has ended early because there are not enough students left alive. literal children who were the teachers, artists, doctors, scientists, scholars, writers, engineers of tomorrow.
when is it enough? statistics released by Palestinian officials about the numbers of martyred isn't enough. photographs and videos of fathers scurrying to piece together their children by gathering their body parts isn't enough. presscons surrounded by dead bodies beside a bombed hospital isn't enough.
yet, somehow, the narrative they are pushing is conflict between two faiths. it is absolutely not. this is no religious conflict. this is colonization, occupation, genocide. it's systematic oppression of Palestine and its people.
the word peace has never angered me as much as it has now. and it should anger you too. there can be no peace under violent oppression. there can be no peace after 75 years of ethnic cleansing. there can be no peace in occupied Palestine.
peace is the product of white supremacy, they prod and kill anyone other than them but when retaliation occurs, it is suddenly rabid savages, unjust savages...
22K notes · View notes
bakartridge · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
*insert opening riff to Prequel To The Sequel Here*
0 notes
drchucktingle · 2 months
Text
autistic expression in a neurotypical art gallery
this morning i thought i would talk about AUTHOR VOICE specifically when it comes to AUTISM. as autistic author i have learned to turn the dial up and down when writing characters. rose from CAMP DAMASCUS is basically exactly where i rest on spectrum and this shows in a few ways
in roses internal monolog you will see that she uses phrases like ‘my friend’ to talk about folks where neurotypical buckaroos might just use first name. or with her parents she will think of them in FIRST NAME instead of ‘mom’ or 'dad’. this is way many autistic buds THINK
to explain this trot I will say it is not a way of disrespect or anything like that, it is simply that these terms are TECHNICALLY all correct and interchangeable. socially, autistic buds often learn to mask by pinpointing WHEN to use these words that logically the same to us.
in CAMP DAMASCUS i left these things in to create character, but if you go back in my writing you will see it. in TINGLERS this is because they are honest in PUNK ROCK way. unfiltered expressions. in earlier novels its admittedly just because i did not realize it was unusual yet
point is, ROSES internal dialog in camp damascus is neurodivergent and i CHOSE not to change her thought process in this way, because we are BOTH autistic. this can be a risk because some neurotypical buckaroos will read it and just think ‘what a strange way. this is bad writing’
camp damascus reviews are actually very good it is a very well received book by any measure, but you will see some folks kind of making fun of these traits (i do not think they would do this if they knew it was authentic autistic way BUT we cannot educate EVERYONE on this trot)
POINT IS i am now faced with an artistic choice in later books. do i write with my AUTISTIC voice even though some neurotypical readers find it awkward? in technical sense some readers WILL think each book is better if i eliminate my autistic tendencies in later edits
my advice is this: character voice IS SO IMPORTANT, but a big part of writing is finding the place between YOUR voice and your CHARACTER voice where both are authentically existing in some way. like acting, you are always bringing something of yourself even when you 'disappear'
when writing BURY YOUR GAYS i did not plan to make misha on the spectrum, but misha is part of me and i am on the spectrum. what i have realized over time is that ALL OF MY CHARACTERS will have these traits in some way because i wrote them, and i will never disappear completely
so when edits came for BURY YOUR GAYS and misha, i took that dial and i turned it farther towards neurotypical than i did with rose, BUT I DID NOT TURN IT OFF COMPLETELY. in literal sense, i left some of those ‘my friends’, because i will always bring MY VOICE to my art as well
i am proud of being on the spectrum. while my voice may not hit every convention of ‘good writing’ it is authentically ‘MY writing’ and i think that is more important than any outside checklist for ‘correct literary expression’. and guess what THE RESULTS ARE IN, MY BOOKS DO WELL
so if you are an artist getting feedback or reviews, consider which parts you can LEARN FROM and grow and change, and which parts are just AUTHENTICALLY YOU. because while your honesty may defy conventions and seem unusual to some folks, IT IS OFTEN WHAT MAKES YOUR ART SING
feel free to turn that dial marked 'YOUR TRUE VOICE' up and down when it makes sense. i do this all the time. but i have long since decided i will never turn that dial OFF completely. your voice is your POWER buckaroo, dont be afraid to sing with it
2K notes · View notes
astraystayyh · 5 months
Text
the premise : u apply lipgloss on felix because ofc he suits glossy lips except it takes an emotional turn???? because felix is perfect sorry. this is fluffyyyy and the sanest reaction to this man being ur bf (and these pics. these pics....)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“lixie, stay still,” you giggle, body nestled between felix’s legs. He's leaning against the bathroom counter, hands propped on the sleek ebony marble as you apply a shimmering lip gloss to his lips.
“but don't you wanna know what changbin said to me?”
“of course i wanna know what creative pickup line he used on you today. of course i do, baby,” you smile and he rolls his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, his tongue poking against his cheek before gliding in (fake) annoyance over his lips.
“but…” he muses, tilting his head to the side, his hands finding your waist once again (they've been away for two minutes too long).
“but when your mouth moves i can't technically apply lipgloss to it.”
“maybe you're just a bad make-up artist,” he teases, before quickly planting a kiss on your temple. “kidding baby. you're the very best at everything you do.”
“you're actually incapable of being mean,” you laugh heartily, your thumb swiping across his chiseled jaw.
“i am very much capable of being mean,” he pouts, his eyes widening slightly, golden light spilling into his pupils— it refracts into an arrow delving straight into your heart.
“you can't say this in the softest voice and expect me to agree.”
“i am very much capable of being mean,” he repeats, only this time his timber is many many octaves lower. his voice reverberates straight through your stomach, a deep melody orchestrating the untamed butterflies in your stomach.
“this is the equivalent of a kitten throwing a punch to me,” you pull his face closer, and he shakes his head, mouth shut tightly as you reapply the glitter infused gloss on his lips, going delicately over his cupid's bow. his eyes are boring onto you, yet you don't shy away from his gaze. it is a kind one— like a blanket knitted with love thrown over your body.
“done,” you whisper, hands trailing up to his hair, blonde silky locks akin to threads of sunlight. you think he must be favored by the stars— how they stored the sun inside every component of his being for him to keep safe.
“you have the prettiest lips,” your voice is suddenly hoarse, thumb grazing slightly over his lips, ones shaped like a heart— akin to the one freckle he has right underneath his eye.
it wasn't enough for him to have the kindest soul, no, love needed to be etched onto his skin too.
“felix,” you rasp out his name.
he catches your tears before you sense them falling, swiping his thumbs delicately on your cheek. “angel?”
“you're an idiot.”
“am i?” he brings you to his chest swiftly, your nose buried in the orange blossoms and sea notes of his skin— your home, the one you'd recognize in blindness, in despair, in safety, in love.
“i wanted to apply this lipgloss on you because shimmer would suit your angelic lips and then we'd make out. but you just had to be so beautiful and pure that it makes me wanna cry.”
“I'm sorry,” he says and you giggle, more tears spilling from your eyes.
“see, this is what i mean. why are you apologizing. this is so silly and you're so perfect and i can't believe you love me.”
“well i do,” he leans away, kissing your forehead tenderly. the sticky lip gloss lingers on your skin. “i love you so much, angel. i will only ever love you.”
“promise me?” you ask in a feat of vulnerability almost foreign to your being.
“i promise.”
you believe him.
“thank you. please don't put this lipgloss near anyone else or it'll make them cry too.”
“i think that's just you baby,” he grins, his thumb swiping over your thigh comfortingly, then, his nose brushing against your own. “kiss?”
you close your eyes, a sigh of relief, of longing escaping your body. “please.”
to be loved by felix— maybe you're the one favored by the stars after all.
3K notes · View notes
mariclerc · 2 months
Text
Dad duties | cl16
Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: none, just dad!charles, a little emotional, instant crush and FLUFF, pure fluff.
a/n: Hii, a long time ago I was thinking about doing a story about what Charles would be like as a single dad... Something crazy, I know, but I hope you like it!! Let me know if you want a part two of this <3
Part 2 Part 3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sun gleams off the turquoise water, gentle waves lap at the shore. You walk along the beach, toes sinking into the warm sand. Giggles suddenly catches your attention, you turn to see a little girl, barely a year old, with bright eyes and a head full of messy curls, crawling determinedly towards you. She reaches you, grabbing a handful of your sundress. You smile, kneeling down to her level.
“Hey there, little one. You seem a little bit lost.”
The girl babbles happily, reaching for your sunglasses. You chuckle and gently remove them, placing them on top of your head.
A shadow falls over you. You look up to see a tall, handsome man with kind greenish eyes and sun-streaked hair... He looks slightly flustered.
“Oh god, I'm so sorry, that's my little escape artist Ava, come here to Papa munchkin.” He smiles apologetically.
Ava squeals and reaches for him. He scoops her up effortlessly, her tiny giggles filling the air.
“Don't worry, she's adorable! How old is she?” you asked.
“One year old, going on a hundred!” He winces as Ava grabs a fistful of his hair. You can't help but laugh. “Ouch, sweetie that hurts!” He says and Ava giggles.
“Looks like she has you all wrapped around her little finger.”
“Definitely.” he chuckles.
He introduces himself as Charles, you tell him your name. To your surprise, the conversation flows easily, you learn he's a single dad, the love and devotion evident in his gaze as he talks about Ava. He opens up about his complicated relationship with his ex (Ava's mother), the challenges of dating as a single parent. You listen intently, impressed by his honesty and dedication to his daughter.
“You seem to be doing a great job, Charles. And that's impressive, you know, how hard you work and try to be the best every day for her.” you smile.
Ava snuggles closer to him, burying her face in his neck.
“I manage to do a good job... It's definitely a handful, but she's worth it all.” he smiles.
A comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at him, then quickly look away, cheeks warming. You sense a similar flicker of something unspoken in his eyes.
“Well, maybe I should let you get back to building sandcastles with your princess.” You say with a bit of haste.
“Actually, I was wondering... Would you maybe, I don't know, maybe... Want to grab some ice cream with us sometime? Ava loves company, and frankly, so do I.” He speaks hurriedly.
You feel a flutter in your chest. This unexpected encounter has taken a sweet turn. “I'd love to. Thanks!” you smile.
Ava lets out a delighted squeal, as if sensing the possibility of ice cream, You and Charles giggle at her reaction.
“Great! How about next Saturday? Same place? How does that sound?”
You nod. “Sounds perfect.”
He smiles, you can see how the corners of his eyes wrinkle, something very cute for you. “Perfect... Ehm, here! Write down your number and I'll write down mine.” He says as he takes out his cell phone to give it to you and you take yours out of your beach bag to hand it to him.
You wrote your number on his cell phone with the name of: "y/n the life-saver 🎀". When he finishes he gives you your cell phone back and you see that he has registered himself as: "Charles the handsome dad 😋" you can't help but laugh at the name.
“Well, then I'll write to you to keep in touch... Handsome dad.” You say with a giggle and he blushes.
Ava yawns, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.
“I think someone's getting tired.” you giggle while looking at Ava.
“She probably is. Sand and sunshine can be exhausting for little ones.” He says and then smiles a little. “This was unexpected... But so nice.” he says quietly.
“Yeah, definitely nice!” you say meeting his warm gaze.
A blush creeps up Charles' neck as he finally pulls back slightly.
“See you next Saturday then, Y/N, it was nice to meet you!”
You smile. “It was also nice to meet you both!”
He nods, a goodbye lingering in his eyes. Charles walks away, cradling a sleepy Ava in his arms, you watch them go, a warm feeling spreading through you. This chance encounter has blossomed into something promising, and as you turn towards your car, a smile lingers on your lips. The beach seems a little brighter now, filled with the promise of sunshine, ice cream, and maybe, just maybe, something more.
Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It's a text message. You pull it out, expecting a message from a friend, but your heart skips a beat when you see the name displayed on the screen - Charles the handsome dad 😋.
Charles the handsome dad 😋: Ava just fell asleep. She kept asking for "y/n." Any chance you have a favorite ice cream flavor? Trying to win some brownie points for Saturday afternoon.
A laugh escapes your lips. He's charming, that's for sure. You quickly type a response.
y/n the life-saver 🎀: Chocolate chip cookie dough, always! And tell Ava I said goodnight. See you on Saturday cha!
You hit send and a warm feeling washes over you. This unexpected encounter has taken a delightful turn, and with a giddy anticipation for saturday's ice cream date, you turn back towards the ocean. The waves seem to whisper a promise of something exciting to come, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection might lead.
***
The cheerful clinking of spoons against ice cream sundaes fills the air. You sit across from Charles at a brightly colored table, a giant chocolate chip cookie dough sundae melting in front of you. Ava, nestled comfortably in a high chair, digs into a kid-sized strawberry sundae with a look of pure bliss.
He chuckles “Looks like someone's enjoying their treat.”
Ava lets out a happy gurgle, a smear of red adorning her cheek. You laugh, you leaned towards her to wipe her cheek.
“She's definitely got a sweet tooth.” you say while wiping her cheek.
Charles takes a bite of his own sundae, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just like her dad. Thanks for the recommendation, this cookie dough ice cream it's fantastic!” he smiles.
“My pleasure, I'm glad you both like it.”
Ava reaches out, grabbing a stray piece of cookie dough from your sundae. You laugh, helping her bring it to her mouth.
“Careful, little one, that's a big bite!”
Charles watches the interaction between you and Ava, a smile playing on his lips.
“You seem to have a way with kids.” He says softly while looking at the two of you with adoration.
You shrug. “I guess so, I have a younger brother, so I've had my fair share of practice.”
The conversation flows easily between bites of ice cream, you learn more about Charles' life as a single dad, the challenges and rewards that come with it, he talks about his passion for racing, a twinkle in his eyes as he describes his dream of one day competing professionally. You share your own dreams and aspirations, surprised at how comfortable you feel opening up to him.
As Ava starts to get cranky, signaling the need for a nap, you suggest taking a walk along the nearby park. Charles readily agrees.
A comfortable silence settles between you. You both steal glances at each other, the unspoken attraction hanging heavy in the air. You reach the edge of the park, the familiar beach stretching before you.
“Looks like we're back where it all began.” you blush slightly.
“It does, doesn't it? Funny how things work out.” he smiles.
He stops walking, turning to face you. Ava lets out a whimper in her sleep, prompting Charles to gently bounce her in his arms.
“This was... so nice, I mean, this sweet afternoon and last week at the beach, it's very... Unexpected, but very good.” He says quietly with a smile on his face.
You meet his gaze, your heart fluttering in your chest.
You smiled. “I also liked it! Ava's such a sweetheart, and you seem like... a good guy, a really good and nice guy.”
He smiles back, a genuine warmth radiating from his eyes.
“I, uh... I was wondering if maybe, sometime next week, you'd like to have dinner? Just the two of us, after Ava's asleep?” He says with a bit of hesitation.
Your stomach does a nervous flip-flop, but a wide smile stretches across your face.
“I'd like that very much Charles.”
A wave of relief washes over Charles. He leans forward slightly, his eyes searching yours.
“Great... In that case, how about I give you a proper goodbye this time?” He says with a bit of flirtation in his voice.
Before you can respond, he leans in further, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss is brief, sweet, and filled with unspoken promise.
Ava lets out a startled gurgle, breaking the spell. Charles pulls back with a laugh, a blush creeping up his neck.
“Looks like our little chaperone wants to get home.” he chuckles and blushes.
“Seems that way.” you giggled while blushing.
He walks you back to your car, Ava snuggled contentedly against his chest.
“Text me when you get home, so I know you made it safe. And maybe, just maybe, you can tell me what your favorite dinner is.” He says while blushing a little.
You laugh a little bit. “Don't worry, you'll be very well fed.”
He smiles, a hint of something deeper lingering in his gaze. You wave goodbye as he drives away with Ava, a warmth spreading through your chest. The unexpected encounter at the beach has blossomed into something exciting, and as you watch the sun disappear over the horizon, you can't wait to see where this new path might lead.
1K notes · View notes
jenosbigtoe · 7 months
Text
mdni. nsfw 18+
pairing: idol!park jisung x makeup artist!reader
warnings: dubcon, power imbalance, manipulation, cockwarming, unprotected sex, creampie
“jisung… i don’t know if this is right… you’re my boss and…”
he had you situated on his lap, shorts and panties pushed to the side as your little pussy warmed his fat cock. he was in balls deep, your pussy dripping and drooling around the base of his cock and ruining his pants.
he shushed you with a deep kiss pressed to your lips. “shh.. baby, you want to help me, right?”
you nodded, pussy clenching around his hardened cock. you tried not to focus on the aching pleasure between your thighs as you touched up his makeup. but his thick cock twitching and throbbing inside you made that very difficult.
“well, you don’t want me to go out and perform with blue balls right?” he accented his words with a sharp thrust up into your cunt. you gasped and gripped his shoulders, almost dropping the makeup brushes in your hand. “i’m so hard right now. if i don’t bury my cock in pussy right now i think i might explode.”
“ji…” you whined. his cock was rubbing so deep inside you, you felt your mind and rationale slip away.
he started to slowly grind his hips against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and making you moan out in pleasure. “let me do this, okay? just need to feel you for a bit before i can perform. i can only perform my best if you just let me feel you, baby.”
“ahhh… okay, ji… whatever you say…” your jaw slacked, eyes clenched in pleasure. he sucked on your neck, leaving blossoms of purple in his path. his hands gripped your hips tightly, preventing you from squirming around and escaping from his unforgiving cock.
he left your pussy dripping with hot cum and panties stuffed in his pocket when he performed on stage later that night.
1K notes · View notes
u3pxx · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
After an accident at the crime scene of their newest case, Klavier and Apollo find themselves in a situation neither of them ever imagined they would go through. Between a murder at an antique store, reopened wounds of the heart, and two incredibly observant girls, Klavier and Apollo will have to navigate their new circumstances together. Along the way, affection that had been buried deep in their souls threatens to overtake both of them. The last thing Apollo needs now is a smack to the head with a low door.
finally posting the piece i drew up for @klapollo-minibang 2023 in collaboration with the wonderful artist @taxkha and our wonderful fic writer @strawberricakeandpie!! ♥️💜 READ THE FIC HERE!!
i hope you enjoy the fic strawb has concocted and written up bc i sure do!!!! (her original prompt has been described as "den-bait" WHEEZES) and!!! the awesome art katha will be sharing once the following chapters get posted! :^] (WHICH YOU ARE ALSO NOT READY FOR!!! THEY ARE VERY DELICIOUS.)
extra stuff under read more ;^P | like what i do? support me on ko-fi!
can you believe i've joined the minibang for three years straight now?! and it's been such a dang joy every time! i just love when creatives get together and create something so filled with love for the media they both love, collaboration's fun, man!
also don't mind the fact that i haven't posted the drawings i did for the '21 and '22 minibangs here ok i just made a tumbly in november of last year ok ill get to it someday ASKSKSK
Tumblr media
and also very delighted that i get to draw about one of my favorite silly tropes to happen ASKSK which, might not be obvious by the first chapter yet but oh, you'll see it. and maybe come yell at me about the trope after you leave a nice comment on strawb's fic, neow!!!!
if you managed to read this far and still have not read the fic, what're you doing man!!!
1K notes · View notes
blueywrites · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
'cause I ain't had nobody hit it like you hit it (2/2)
dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love! read part one here.
3.6k
cw: 18+. smut, references to hard drug use, unprotected piv, situationship becoming something more, shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, eddie embarrasses the fuck out of reader but don't get it twisted, he's down bad, no y/n, no physical descriptors
an: sorry for leaving y'all on that little cliffie in the first part. I hope this makes up for it! 😉 also, make sure you check out the fanart if you haven't already - there are some specific allusions to it in this part, and it'll enhance the experience if you've checked it out. accreditation: I attribute those clever details to the very talented artist 🩵
now, enjoy the utter filth! xx
The sound is a bucket of ice water down your spine. Your back stiffens ramrod straight as your grasping fingers find the front of Eddie’s tank, fisting it up tight in a startled search for comfort. Eddie separates his lips from yours with a loud click, an annoyed frown already marring his brow as he cranes his neck to look around you toward the closed door. When the knocks come again in quick succession, there’s a split second you think he will tell you to get off him, and your stomach swoops with something just short of devastation. But Eddie doesn’t even bother asking who it is; he keeps cupping your cheek even as he barks harshly, "Busy, man. Go take a walk, come back in ten minutes." 
After a brief pause, you hear the creak of wood followed by the plodding steps of whomever had come calling descending the porch stairs. It’s somewhat of a relief, but the interruption has disturbed the haze you’d fallen into. You almost want to ask who that was, if Eddie’d been expecting any visitors or customers other than you, but you bite your tongue, not wanting to dampen the mood between you two even farther. As your heart keeps racing while you attempt to regain your composure, your eyes search his face. They flit about before being captured by deep brown, ensnared by the look he’s leveling you with. Eddie’s gaze bores into yours, dark with longing and mischief as if he’s daring you to defy him. 
As if he can see through your eyes straight down to your soul and all that it longs for.
The tension returns in an instant— sticky and hot as your thighs flex around Eddie’s hips, and the subtle shift reminds you he’s still buried inside. Your desire for him simmers like an ache low in your belly, plaintive and wanting. And he must read that on you, because despite the clock ticking down the seconds until his visitor returns, Eddie just has to tease you.
"Yeah?" His voice is a low whisper, a teasing challenge that sends a shiver down your spine. "S’like that, huh? You want me to make you cum now?" He glances up at the wall behind him, drawing your eyes to a row of scrawled lines— a tallied record of the pleasure he gives. It’s yet another way he’s found to rile you up, a reminder displayed in a place you can’t help but see every time you visit him. "And you think you’ve earned another tally?"
Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze again. "Need it, Ed..." you whisper, your heartbeat rabbit-fast at the prospect of him really giving it to you.
His smirk widens, a flash of smug satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Aww, baby needs it so bad," he teases, his tone laced with mock sympathy before it darkens. "You're such a fuckin' whore. But only for me, right?"
A heady mix of desire and shame courses through you, slinking through your veins, burning you up inside. Because, for all intents and purposes, he’s right: you are a whore, giving yourself to your dealer like this. And this thing between you and Eddie may be more than that to you— may be more to him, too, though you don’t know for sure— but on the surface, that’s exactly what you are. A whore, only for him.
It’s demeaning and nasty and so fucking arousing all at once. 
"Mhmm." A strangled hum of agreement is the most you can manage through your mortification. Even so, you know that won’t be enough for Eddie. 
"Tell me," he demands, his voice a low growl that makes your pussy flutter around him; his fingers tighten on your hip, blunt nails biting in, dimpling your softness. His expression doesn’t change, but you know he likes being able to affect you with just the sound of his voice and the things he makes you say.
"I-I'm a whore for you, Eddie..." you admit, forcing out the words though they make your face positively burn. "I'm your whore—"
His hand crawls into your hair, pulling you back, and you moan as your neck stretches tight. "That's fuckin' right," he says, licking up your throat. You gasp and tremble. "My good little whore."
The teasing is becoming too much; you’re so turned on, you’re nearly beside yourself. You need to move; need him to move. "Please," you cry, whiny and pathetic, your eyes prickling with frustrated tears.
It’s all part of the game, of course-- his casual dominance, your needy desperation. But a harsh exhale against your chin shows that Eddie isn’t as unaffected as he wants to appear. Without ceremony, the still-smoldering joint, only half smoked, is ground out against the edge of the wooden coffee table and dropped into an old bottle. With both hands now free, Eddie pulls you into his chest, his grip firm and possessive, his palms spanning great swaths of your back and his fingers stretched wide. 
Low and husky, he murmurs, "Hold on now, kitten.” 
Hastily, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as his hands dip, dragging down until his fingers dig into your bare ass cheeks. You moan quietly at the rough neediness in the gesture as he manhandles you up so he can slide himself down further on the couch, planting his feet wide on the carpet, his dark jeans and checked boxers pulling taut just above his knees. He’s still stretching you out on his dick, and you bite your lip at the duality of feeling: the dull pain where your skin dimples under his hands, the low pulse of pleasure as his shifting presses him deeper into you. 
You’re anticipating it, and still you choke on a gasp as Eddie uses his grip to slam you down onto his lap just as he thrusts up into you hard— once, twice, again, quickly setting a brutal pace that, if you weren’t so wet for him, would ache in quite a different way. As it is, this ache is exactly what you need— bruises on your ass from his blunt fingertips, burns on your knees from the scratchy cushions, and the battering of Eddie’s cock bullying deep into your pussy, making you feel so fucking good. 
He grunts as you dig your nails into the sturdy, smooth lines of his shoulders, holding onto him tight; you bury your whimpers in his neck, the sound muffled by the heat of his skin as he pounds into you with dizzying ferocity. But that just won’t do, because Eddie wants to see you— wants to see the way he wrecks you. Briefly, one hand leaves your ass to pull you back by the scruff of your neck. You whimper as you lose your hiding place but you don’t fight him, obeying despite the desire to burrow away from his discerning stare. 
"Just needed my dick all the way inside you, stretching this wet little hole out, didn’t you." Eddie chuckles, his gaze burning into yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, hitching with every bounce of his thighs against your ass. "I know you did. You’re always so fuckin’ desperate for it."
You shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze, the heat rising to your cheeks as you try to avert your eyes, but you know he sees right through you. Every movement, every glance, every subtle shift of your body betrays the desire that burns within you.
Mercifully— or maybe unmercifully— Eddie goes on without expecting a response. "Comin’ over here, wearing your tiny little shorts, sittin’ on my couch, staring at me when you think I don’t see," he continues, his voice a low rumble that makes your scalp tighten as he leans in and murmurs in your ear. “No one else is givin’ it to you as good as me, huh? That why you gotta beg me for it?” As he mocks you, you squirm in his grip, embarrassed even as your pussy squeezes tight, your body betraying you with its unrelenting arousal. 
"Shit, you feel so fuckin’ good," Eddie mutters quietly against your cheek. "Love your little pussy." 
You go boneless on him as the embarrassment mixes with adoration. You tuck your face against his neck again, and this time, it’s not to hide. Your hands snake down his tank to claw at his back, nails dragging lines across his skin as you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses over his throat, lavishing him with the depth of your feeling. His words vibrate under your lips. “That’s right, just like that. I gotcha. My pliant little fuckdoll.”
"Oh," you moan, your voice barely above a whisper as you surrender yourself to him completely. "Fuck—"
"Could do anything to you, hm?" Eddie rasps, never faltering in his pace as he fucks up into you.
As your breasts rub against his clothed chest, your hard nipples quickly become oversensitized by the friction, spurring you to meet him thrust for thrust. "Yeah, yeah," you gasp, your voice trembling with need, nearly overwhelmed by his words and the feeling of his fat tip kissing that spot inside. He’s working you so quickly at this angle that you nearly see stars. "Whatever y’want,” you slur, well on your way to being cock drunk. “M’your good girl, Eddie."
He chuckles, amused and fond. "That’s why you get the free ride, babe,” he tells you. "Cause you’re just so good."
There is no deliberate thought driving you anymore, just instinct as you ride him with abandon— tits shaking, ass rippling, head thrown back, mouth open, fists in his hair, drool on your chin, arousal leaking onto his thighs. Your lashes flutter, eyes half rolled back as you start to ascend.
“Jesus Christ, I swear, you’re—” Eddie pauses, swallowing harshly, like he’s gulping back what he almost said. “You’re so sexy like this,” he rasps finally, breath ragged, biting his lip when you throw it down harder on him. “So sexy. All mine.”
My whore. My fuckdoll. Mine, mine, mine. That sentiment makes you bold. You summon all your faculties to pull your face back from his neck and tip your head coquettishly, looking down at Eddie like you own him and not the other way around. 
“Yeah, baby?” It’s a little breathless with effort, but still, you manage to sound sultry in a way you almost do not recognize. “You like that?”
Eddie’s pupils blow wide. He chuckles breathlessly, but he doesn’t look amused. “Go’n, fuck me,” he grits out, and his eyes are pitch black with desire, but as you keep looking down at him, there’s a flash of something else— something more akin to awe. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
And you do, more than you ever have before. The room collapses to nothing but the slapping of skin on skin— furious, sweaty, gasping plunges downward met with equally sharp upward thrusts that gradually have him sinking lower on the couch. By the time Eddie’s ass slips to the edge of the cushion, you’re slumped over him, hands squishing up his cheeks, lips mashed together, kissing like you need him to live. Each time he punches in, you keen like a wild animal, the sound garbled and mixed with his low, rasping whines. There’s salt in your mouth and you don’t know whose sweat it is, his or yours. Eddie’s breath puffs from his nose like he’s sprinting for his life; one of his damp curls tacks to your cheek as your bodies writhe together all slick, sticky, wet. You’re fucking each other so hard it almost hurts—
And then it does hurt, because on your next desperate bounce, Eddie’s ass slips off the couch, toppling you both to the floor.
Buzzing with adrenaline and on the knife’s edge of your orgasm, the fall only radiates dull pain for a moment before you’re over it. You lift your face from the carpet to see Eddie’s head all wedged up at an angle against the couch’s leg, his arms splayed, legs still caught in his pants and boxers like he’d tripped taking a piss or something. Your eyes hone in on his cock— wobbling in the air, flushed and slick with you down to the matted-curl base, miraculously still hard and, most importantly, entirely unharmed. 
“Oh, fuck,” Eddie groans, his face contorted in a pained wince. If you weren’t so close to cumming, you’d ask him if he was okay, but as it is, your only thought is to crawl on top of him and hastily throw your leg over his hip. Before he can even blink, you’ve impaled yourself on his cock, engulfing him in the heat of your throbbing pussy with a filthy, wet squelch. 
“Oh, fuck!” It’s a ragged moan this time as his mouth falls open, the cords of his neck pulling tight on an even more strangled sound as you go right back to fucking him like he asked you— like you mean it.
Pleasure returns in an even more potent swell as you consider how feral it is that you and Eddie are now fucking on the floor like animals. You’re making sounds of pained ecstasy, punching them out of yourself as you slam down on him until he’s hitting so deep you can feel it in the back of your throat. Your muscles are quivering, burning with effort, so much so that you can’t help but collapse forward, bracing your forearm against the edge of the couch cushion. You whimper as the move changes the angle, dulling your pleasure, but you can’t find the strength to hoist yourself back up while still chasing your orgasm— and you need to cum so badly now that you want to fucking cry. 
But Eddie’s got you. When you slip, he’s there the next moment tilting his hips, matching you thrust for thrust, hooking an arm around your back and pressing his forehead against your sternum. His skin is hot, sweaty and tacky, and his breath huffs ragged over your bouncing chest for a moment before he presses his face into the plush curve of your breast. 
And then you hear it: Eddie’s voice breaking as he moans out your name against your skin. 
Dizzying flutters burst in your chest just as pleasure twists violently in your belly, a throbbing ache you can feel pressing at your walls, clawing its way up to break the surface inside you. You heave a tight sob as you cum, back arched, neck straining, consumed whole by the intensity of the feeling. Distantly, as if through a tunnel, you register a brief flare of pain; your spasming pussy clenches around Eddie’s kicking length as the pleasure peaks at the sensation, breaking in waves that gradually gentle and then finally ease. And it’s when you collapse weakly against Eddie’s chest, quivering as his arms fold around your back, that you realize the pain you felt was Eddie’s teeth sinking into your breast as he came with you.
When you finally have the strength to open your eyes, you're both still breathing fast, Eddie's bare arms bunching up your disheveled tank and sticking to your lower back as he holds you, panting into your mouth. "Shit," he mutters, chuckling under his breath. "That was..." 
He leaves the sentence unfinished, but you understand his meaning. It was really fucking good— better than usual. And maybe it was because there was a thrill in trying to finish before his visitor returned, but maybe... maybe it was more than that.
“Even the part when you fell on your ass?” You whisper, smiling when his eyes crinkle.
“Sure,” he offers. “Even that part.”
You hum, nudging your nose against his, and when you pull back, there's a strange glint in his eye— something fonder, sweeter than it had been before. You smile at him again, and maybe he sees something in your gaze too, because he doesn't kiss you filthy, nor peck you as a quick punctuation to your fucking. Instead, he strokes back your hair, his brown eyes darting down to your lips. And as he leans in, your heart thumps—
That infernal pounding starts up again, louder this time and accompanied by the muffled sound of a male voice calling impatiently, "Hey, Eddie, open up— I ain't got all day, man!"
Your stomach lurches. Has it really been ten minutes? 
Not that it matters, you berate yourself, ‘cause he’s back, and you’re still naked on the fucking floor. You dismount Eddie quickly, collapsing down to all fours so you can reach for your clothes where they’re bunched under the other side of the couch. As you scramble to your feet, tearing your panties and shorts up your legs, you hear Eddie curse quietly under his breath. 
"Gimme a goddamn second!" he snaps, still lying on the ground, lifting his hips and shimmying up his boxers with a level of nonchalance that belies the urgency of the situation. 
You climb onto the couch, your chest heaving from adrenaline and exertion as he pops up in front of you, hopping several times to get his tight jeans the rest of the way up. He flops down on the other side, spreading his legs comfortably, seeming content to just let his belt hang open like he can’t be bothered with it. You glance at him skeptically to see he’s already looking back at you with the same expression, though his is also tinged with some amusement. It takes you a beat to realize why, but when you do, you rush with prickling panic. Because your top’s still rucked up around your collarbone, leaving your bare tits, complete with the new impression of Eddie’s teeth, on full display. Miraculously, you manage to yank it down just as the front door knob twists sharply.
And then, to your horror, the door pops right open.
Your jaw goes slack as a guy around your age— rail thin and pale, dressed in an oversized flannel and a ratty pair of jean shorts— steps into the trailer. Eddie grunts a casual greeting, nodding at the visitor as he lopes up to the couch just as casually, slapping Eddie’s lazily outstretched palm like they’ve done this a million times before. You’re still attempting to process the fact that the front door has been unlocked this entire time when the guy casts a cursory glance your way, his eyes quickly flicking you up and down. You snap your mouth shut, your lips pressing into a flat line as you pull your legs up like they can shield you from his appraisement.
“Hey, man,” Eddie says, cracking his neck to the side. “How was that rock I hooked you up with last time? Good shit, right?”
Obviously a customer, then. You try to ignore the exchange, but you’re inescapably conscious of the fact that this guy could’ve walked in on you and Eddie fucking at literally any point in time. That awareness prickles as you shift, trying to mimic Eddie’s casual posture, though your attempt fails miserably as you feel a small gush of wet warmth leak between your thighs. You blanch as you realize Eddie’s cum is probably dampening your shorts; quickly, you adjust your legs, hoping to conceal the telltale spot. But your traitorous mind can’t help but consider how you likely look— hair mussed, lips swollen from Eddie’s kisses, one strap of your stretched-out tank top sagging down your arm. Like I’ve been totally fucked stupid, you think sourly, casting a flat look toward Eddie who, aside from a sweaty face and lips that are just the slightest bit puffier than before, appears no worse than normal.
Your fingers tap an impatient beat against your knee as you wait, eager for them to finish up so this awkward situation can be over already. The exchange drags on until the guy is finally pocketing his product as Eddie counts his money. 
“Alright,” Eddie says at last, leaning to one side to stuff the bills in his pocket. “Pleasure doin’ business.” You hold in a relieved sigh as he jerks his chin up in a nod, flashing his customer a friendly look that’s half warm eyes and half sharp teeth.
The guy’s about to turn toward the door when Eddie speaks again, and the feigned innocence in his tone makes your stomach sink.
“Oh, shit, almost forgot—”
His ringed hand stretches out, rooting around on the messy side table for a moment before snatching up a ballpoint pen. Your eyes widen in disbelief as he glances behind him, casually reaching up and scratching another line into the wall— drawing everyone’s eyes to the tally marks and, in particular, to the words written above them.
Cum counter.
All you can do is stare at Eddie, utterly at a loss. "Now get the fuck outta here," he says to the guy, his eyes never leaving yours. "My baby's tired, and it's time for her nap." 
And that motherfucker smiles at you— so wide his cheek dimples.
Not his whore; not his fuckdoll. His baby. Your heart swells behind your ribs even as your body heats several degrees with mortification; the customer’s long gone before you can decide whether to kiss Eddie or kick him. 
It’s a decision you’ll have to make a lot from now on.
887 notes · View notes
ghostofhyuck · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
NCT Dream when they fall in love with someone similar to their personality. 
Mark Lee ; passionate
When Mark realized that you're also passionate about your craft, he can't help but to fall in love with you. He admires you at how you would yap about your performance because just like him, you let him yap about his passion for music. He thinks that he found someone who's on the same level as him and would want to date you honestly. 
Huang Renjun ; artistic
Renjun believes that it's meant to be when you gave him a crafted necklace, it has an artistic touch that he knows is a brand of yours. You two would talk about crafts and art in general that he thinks that you're on the same page as him. He genuinely thinks that you're the girl version of him and probably had a crush on you at first and then, falls in love eventually. 
Lee Jeno ; introverted
When you first met Jeno, you were quiet and would only smile at him. But he noticed at how you're talkative whenever you're with your friends. When he find the opportunity to talk to you, you shared to him that you're an introvert and while Jeno took the initiative to get to know you, in those process did he find peace whenever he's with you. You two found tranquility with each other and that Jeno think that you're meant for each other. 
Lee Donghyuck ; prankster
It's a battle of bickering and teasing. Haechan found himself a girl who doesn't back down with  his teases and pranks. At first it is to annoy you, and you were annoyed! But as soon as you fought back and it became a tension between the two of you, Haechan wasn't able to comprehend it until the Dreamies pointed it out, "What do you mean I like her, like she's annoying and would tease me and --- oh." he realized that he fucked up with his feelings for you. 
Na Jaemin ; realistic
I think that for Jaemin, he needs someone who's realistic about the future. While he does show a childlish side of himself to you, whenever you two talk about the future and just adult things in general, he couldn't help but fall slowly to you. You seem to understand where his rambles are about, and you share the same sentiments with him. That's why he thinks that you're the one for him. 
Zhong Chenle ; spontaneous
I think Chenle is the type who wanted to enjoy the mundane and spontaneous things in life. So when you came into his life and join all his spontaneous trips about life, he couldn't help but have a small crush on you. I mean, you're willing to agree to a late-night run for donuts, not even Dreamies would do that! Aside from that, you're very close with Daegal, that's a plus points for him. 
Park Jisung ; shy
Oh. This is a painful slow-burn that is hard to watch. When you first met Jisung, both of you are very very shy that you two awkwardly shake hands. (The Dreamies are in distressed) and while it's hard to admit, Jisung did had a crush on you because you're demure despite being shy. So it took a lot of interventions from Dream for him to muster the courage to ask you out. It's a good thing that you agreed or else he'll dig a hole and just bury himself. jk.
586 notes · View notes
necstasy · 1 month
Note
what are your thoughts feelings emotions about paul atreides having a breeding kink...... wanting so badly to knock his girl up......
creampie; soft paul; husband!paul & PAUL ATREIDES MDNI 18+
it comes to him naturally.
he’s always had the desire to reproduce settled in the back of his mind. he’s always wanted a family; a wife he truly loved, kids who he could see himself in. it was simple to him at first—base instincts of a man, especially the heir to the throne.
and then you two married, and it became something more primal. something more debauched, and therefore deeper into the base instincts. he couldn’t sleep as his mind was plagued with images of you, to the point where he needed to thrust these visions into reality. they were all within reach, all he needed to do was spread your legs and settle between them with the same determination he tended to push down in fear of scaring you off.
but he doesn’t think he could ever scare you off. not with how receptive and eager you are.
your legs opened to accommodate paul’s lithe hips in between them. your hands in his curls and pressed into the muscles of his back. really, your hands are everywhere. sliding down his torso, pinching his hips, pressing into the dimples in his lower back. you’re insatiable, trying to get more of him even as you drink in all of his air as you kiss him.
he’s just as bad if not worse.
his hands roaming your body. from your hair, to cupping your jugular, to pinching your nipples, all the way to teasing your cunt. he wants you, but he doesn’t want to make it quick. he wants it to last.
so he takes his time. each thrust into you is purposeful and artistically crafted. it’s not just a means to an end, it’s a rehearsed dance that he gets better at each time. sure, he has a goal—to shoot his cum as far into you as possible—but he wants it to be as enjoyable as it always is. he sucks hickies into your neck, he peppers loving kisses all along your body while he tells you how appreciative he is of you. it pains him, but he dismisses your cries to go faster and give you more. he wants it to be slow and romantic, his still blossoming mind only associating the two with each other and never with any other fashion of fucking you. love making, as he would call it.
until you hook a leg around his waist and beg. “will you cum in me, paul? so i can make you a father?”
god, you want to make him a father, the same way he wants to make you a mother. it’s so simple, nothing profound, but just that admission and your begging has paul’s hips snapping into yours. you have inadvertently gotten exactly what you wanted, and you’re vocal about how thankful you are. this is a different form of love making. it's addictive.
paul’s green eyes stare down at you the entire time, switching between taking in the way your face morphs into pure pleasure and how his cock easily slides in and out of you. he doesn’t know which view he enjoys more: the way your lips part and your eyebrows pinch together, or the way you’re literally creaming around his cock before you’ve even reached an orgasm. he tries to pay equal attention to both views, but he ends up focusing solely on the work he's doing below, his eyes attentive even through the weight of them.
he watches his cock drive in and out of you, so focused that he doesn't notice the speed that his mouth moves.
"yeah? you want me to?" he asks in relation to your begging. you nod, but he doesn't notice. he continues either way. "i'll put a baby in here, my star. i think you'd look so pretty. you always look so pretty 'f me."
he has a distant thought to focus on your pleasure, but it doesn't make it to the forefront. instead, he focuses on one thing: knocking you up. and he makes sure he gets his wish when he cums into you forcefully, his head buried in your neck while he keeps his hips flush against yours, his cock twitching inside of you as warm spurt after warm spurt flies out of him and settles into you. and even when he's done, he sits there for a while, refusing to leave in fear that the tiniest amount trickling out of you could damage the possibilities.
just to be extra sure, he fucks the cum back into you once he's pulled out, bringing you to an orgasm just by his fingers covered in his cum alone.
822 notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 10 months
Text
Sundresses and Leather
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.
Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.
"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.
"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"
"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.
"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.
You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.
But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.
Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”
“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”
“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”
It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.
“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”
“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”
I will.
Tumblr media
After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.
Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.
“Holy shit.”
You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.
Flowers.
“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”
You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”
His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."
"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."
"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"
He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”
Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”
“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”
“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.
“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”
“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.
“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.
“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”
An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.
This date is off to a great start.
“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”
But I know he has a big dick. I know.
He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”
He’s going to kill my ovaries.
“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”
“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.
He’s trying to impress me.
“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.
“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”
“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.
Did he clean it for me?
You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”
“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”
“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”
“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.
“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”
“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”
I just want to spend time with you.
A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.
You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.
“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.
“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”
You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?
“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”
James?
The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”
Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”
You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.
“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”
Oh, no.
There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”
“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"
Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.
You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."
"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.
"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."
“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”
Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”
“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”
Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.
"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.
"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."
A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."
As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”
Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.
“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”
“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”
“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.
No way.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."
He's full of surprises.
"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.
The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.
"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"
Antonia looks so happy.
"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"
Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."
You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"
"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."
Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.
Perfect.
"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"
You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.
"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.
"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."
Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.
Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.
"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."
"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"
He caught that?
"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."
"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.
You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.
"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."
"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."
"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."
"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"
"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."
You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.
I could listen to him talk for hours.
"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.
"I haven't?" You asked.
"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."
You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.
"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.
"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.
"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."
If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.
Tumblr media
After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.
"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.
The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."
"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.
Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."
"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.
Fuck me.
"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."
Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.
You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.
"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.
"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."
"In the kitchen?"
"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."
Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"
"Jesus," he whispered.
It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."
"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."
"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."
I'm not good enough.
Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."
His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."
"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."
"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."
It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.
A partnership.
He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"
Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.
"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."
"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.
"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."
I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.
"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."
"It was," he smiled.
"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.
"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.
You didn't.
Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.
I want more.
"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.
"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?
"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"
Tumblr media
So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
2K notes · View notes
nrdmssgs · 10 months
Text
Reacting to the reader, accidentally falling asleep on them. (Soap, Alex, König)
Masterlist
Part 2 (Price, Ghost, Gaz)
This is pure fluff. Platonic and romantic. Please, try to sleep enough, guys.
Tumblr media
Johnny Soap MacTavish
Platonic
Let's just hope, every inch of your skin is securely covered with cloth. You've just asked why? Oh, you aren't prepared, are you, poor thing?
Too bad. Because Johnny can be infinitely proud of the fact that only next to him, you relax so much that you allow yourself to fall asleep on his lap. But he'll never turn down an opportunity to prank you.
Soap doesn't mind that he only has one arm free - you use the other as an extra pillow. He opens the marker with his teeth.
Following Johnny's gaze, Ghost hides his hands behind his back.
"Lieutenant, please! I need my references!" "I'm not taking part in this nonsense, MacTavish." "But she loves your sleeve! Why not let her wear the same one for a few days?" "A few days? Don't tell me, you're using a permanent one! And since when I have a dead rat as a part of my sleeve?" "It's not a rat, this is a skull. Ever heard of an artistic interpretation?"
Romantic
His hand embraces you the very next second, he notices, you're asleep.
Doesn't give a damn, if anyone sees you two like that. In fact, he would very much appreciate, if everyone seen, how safe and happy he makes you feel.
He will quietly murmur you lullabies that he heard as a child. If you ardently wake up and ask him, what are they about, he would apologize and confess that they are in Gaelic, and he barely speaks it.
"Oh, that's ok, don't be sorry. Could you, maybe, sing a bit more to me?" "Aye, bonnie. Now close your eyes."
Will bury his face in your hair and rub his cheek against the top of your head, while humming quietly, slowly losing himself in your heavenly scent.
Tumblr media
Alex Keller
Platonic
Surprisingly calm about it. He will not wake you up or whisk you away from his shoulder. He won't even think about commenting on what happened when you wake up.
Alex knows perfectly well what it's like to carve out every free minute on deployment to have a little rest between missions.
He is grateful, that you were on the same team - he could not wish for a better partner than you. Therefore, he is ready to help you not only on the battlefield. If you are tired and want to take a nap, he will lend a shoulder.
If this happened in transport, Alex will cradle you so that you do not hit the back of your head against the wall at a sharp turn.
May once make you 'return the favor' passing out on your shoulder. He does not lean on you completely, plus he has the fluffiest, softest hair out there, so don't worry, it will feel nice.
Romantic
Have you ever seen a light bulb the size of a grown man turning on in a room? Because that's what Alex looks like when you don't answer his question because you accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder.
He dreamt to be your safe place, to make you feel protected, taken care of. And you've just convinced him, that he actually succeeded.
Can't help but smile, hugging you with all care and fondness, he is capable of.
If someone approaches him with a question, while you are still sleeping, he will put his finger to his lips, making it clear to this person, that now is not the best moment.
If you wake up and ask him, how long did you nap, Alex will always answer, 'oh, you've just closed your eyes a few minutes ago'. Even if you fell asleep more than an hour before.
Please, just let him stay like that with you for a little longer. These are the moments, he lives for: you in his hands, in peace, loved and loving.
Tumblr media
König
Platonic
Oh no, this poor soul, he is completely lost. He doesn't feel, if his verbal interactions are graceful enough, and you've just accidentally initiated a prolonged touch.
His pulse is higher than Austrian mountains, as he tries to sit still and mimic the wall or couch under your head.
He hides his eyes when someone passes by you, tries to pretend that this is how it should be, thanks all the gods for not taking off his veil immediately after returning from the mission so no one sees the blush stretching from his cheeks to his neck.
"Horangi... Pssst, Horangi! W-what should I do?" "Ehm, enjoy a peaceful moment with fellow soldier? You guys look cute like that." "Wait, don't leave me here! This whole situation might be inappropriate... You must help me now! Do something!!" "You want me to wake her up?" "Yes! Wait, no! What if waking her up is actually inappropriate?"
König will sincerely want to apologize to you. He does not yet know what exactly, but he certainly did something wrong. He will suffer and spin in bed half the night, formulating a socially acceptable apology, and finally fall asleep, satisfied with the phrase he composed.
He'll come up to you in the morning, only to realize with horror that he forgot the exact wording of the apology. Therefore, he will honor you with a short nod, turn around and go in the opposite direction.
Romantic
König pretends he's asleep too. It is ok to not move, since he is asleep, yes? It is enough of an excuse to hold you in a tight embrace, since he's doing it unconsciously, is it?
It doesn't even matter, if everybody around knows what exactly is happening between you two - he still believes, he needs an excuse to touch you, even to be around you.
Due to his size, König can simply hide you in his arms. Can and will. You are after all his treasure.
He discreetly lifts his veil up just to take your hand and press a quick kiss against your knuckles. He enjoys the opportunity to touch you like that from time to time when others are not looking.
But if someone decides to interrupt this heaven - they better be prepared for the coldest, most menacing death glare. Because König won't let anyone disturb his Schatzis` moment of peace.
1K notes · View notes
lovexdeepspace · 2 months
Note
All the Love and Deepspace boys react when you make a homemade scarf for them?
Thank you very much and hope all is well.
“made with love.”
Tumblr media
summary; a gift is best when it comes from the heart.
warnings; none! enjoy the sweetness <3
note; aaaaa some fluff to break the angst cycle !! ty for the sweet request !!
( to be formatted in the future )
a box awaits each of the boys, wrapped neatly with a note attatched.
rafayel…
… immediately calls you, panicking that some crazed fangirl or someone he wronged in the past has found his address.
“what if it’s a bomb?” he shouts into the phone, peering through the crack in his front door at the box. “or worse! what if it’s some woman’s used underwear?!”
you fail to contain your laughter on the other end of the call, covering your mouth as you double over.
“how can you laugh in such dire times?” rafayel wails, clutching the phone to his ear. “this isn’t funny!”
after a moment you were finally able to compose yourself and say, “the box is from me, dumbass. i dropped it off on my way to work this morning. i tried to give it to you personally but someone wouldn’t answer the door.”
cue a sheepish chuckle from rafayel as he opens his front door and stoops down to open the gift then and there. he smiles to himself as he finds a blue hand knit scarf sitting in the box, his fingers running gently along the material.
“it’s so soft,” he says softly and you laugh again, amused by his genuine reaction. “i’m putting it on and never taking it off.”
“so dramatic,” you mumble, cradling the phone between your shoulder and ear as you pick up your book once more. the line went silent and you quirk a brow. “rafayel?”
your phone buzzes and you pull it away from your shoulder to find three image attachments sent your way with more piling in every second. each photo is one of rafayel in a different, exaggerated pose with the scarf wrapped around his neck. you laugh at his theatrics and save a couple to your camera roll before shooting him a quick text.
you look like a dork.
he answers immediately, as to be expected from your clingy artist:
i think i look amazing
xavier…
… opens the box as soon as he pulls it in his apartment without a single concern. if anyone could handle some danger, it’s him, so why worry?
the yellow scarf is soft in his lap as he reads the card you wrote for him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he sets the little card aside and wraps the scarf loosely around his shoulders before pushing himself off his couch, sending you a text that he’s coming over.
it doesn’t take long for him to arrive at your front door or for him to fish out the spare key you had given him, unlocking the door and pushing his way in. xavier shuffles into your apartment, leaving his shoes by the door as he calls out your name. he moves from the main room to your bedroom, finding you sprawled out on your bed. without a second thought he crawls into bed beside you, startling you awake.
“huh — wha? xavier?” you lay back down, groaning. “scared the shit outta me.”
xavier hums and pulls you into his embrace, your face burying in his chest. “i got your gift and needed to come say thank you.”
“you couldn’t have just texted me?” you ask sleepily, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “you’re welcome, by the way. tara taught me how to knit and she gave me some extra yarn. i thought the color would suit you.”
you pull back a little and eye the scarf around his neck before adding, “it does suit you.”
xavier nods in agreement, kissing your forehead. “you have a good eye.”
zayne…
… completely forgets about the gift. one day he comes into the office to find a box on his desk and makes a mental note to open it after his first patient.
then one patient becomes two back to back emergency surgeries and by the time that was all complete it was well into the night. finally having a second to himself, zayne plops down on his couch and leans his head back. his eyes finally close only to snap open again at a knock on his door.
“zayne, i brought you some dinner,” you say as you open the door to his office. he lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes once more as you shut the door behind you, setting the lunchbox on his desk. “oh! you still haven’t opened it?”
“opened what?” zayne asks, turning his head slightly to look at you. you pick up the gift on his desk and hold it out to him. “oh, that. i assume it’s from you, then?”
you nod excitedly and place the box on his lap. “go on, open it!”
“i’m sorry, today’s been a hectic day,” zayne apologizes as he carefully opens the box. the stress melts away as he looks into the box at a black hand-knit scarf with a small smile. “you made this?”
you take a seat next to him, reaching over and grabbing the scarf out of the box as he reads the card. “i did! and since you’re mr. jack frost over here, i think a scarf is the perfect accessory! do you like it?”
you wrap it haphazardly around his shoulders and zayne sets the card down on the coffee table before fixing it around his neck.
“out of all the gifts you’ve given me over the years, i think this one might just be my favorite,” he replies, placing a hand on your knee as he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “thank you, sunshine.”
356 notes · View notes
sugarandspicewriting · 4 months
Note
girl, you should definitely write something about luke letting you do his make up, please! i'm begging you!
Lipstick Kisses
Tumblr media
Summary: Luke brings you a snack after missing you at breakfast, but finds himself getting a makeover instead.
Warnings: Fem Aphrodite!Reader. Fluff.
A/N: Here is the fic I mentioned. I’m also spreading my peel and orange for your lover agenda.
Tumblr media
The Aphrodite cabin was filled with a soft morning light. You sat on one of the intricately carved wooden stools in front of the vanity you had claimed as your own when you were claimed by your mother. One of the best things about the Aphrodite cabin? Mirrors surrounded you, a luxury unique to this cabin. You had woken up late due to a late night rendezvous with your boyfriend, Luke the previous night. When faced with the decision of getting breakfast or looking good for the day, you decided that sometimes sacrifice was necessary for beauty.
No one could say you weren’t your mother’s daughter.
As you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup and mentally preparing to start your day, you heard footsteps coming up behind you. You were expecting one of your siblings to be teasing you for your not-so-stealthy reentrance last night. Instead, you were met with Luke voice.
“Figured you didn’t show up at breakfast because of last night, so brought you something to eat.” He spoke softly, not wanting to break the quiet morning atmosphere.
You smiled at him, not wanting to make too much noise yourself. Luke sat down on your bed and began to peel the orange he brought for you while you finished up your makeup, feeding you orange slices occasionally.
After finishing your morning routine, an idea stuck you, and you turned to look at Luke who had busied himself with cleaning up the orange peels. “Luke,” you called out, barely covering the excitement in your voice. “You’ve watched me do my makeup before, yes?”
He looked up at you, not sure where you were going with this, but the sparkle in your eyes made him ready to go along with anything you would say next. “Yes, why?”
“Would you let me do your makeup? Please? It’ll be fun and we can take it off before anyone sees and-“
“Of course princess.”
“-I wouldn’t tell-oh!”
His readiness to appease you in this way shocked you. You beamed at him and got up from your seat and ushered him towards the vanity.
In truth, Luke had no interest in having makeup on. But if it kept you smiling like that he’d wear it all day and all around camp.
Once he sat in front of the mirror, you climbed on his lap and began your artistic venture. Your breaths intermingled softly. The subtle smell of citrus floated between you. In between bouts of concentration you would catch him staring at you, and would have to bury your face in his neck in embarrassment until he coaxed you back up with promises of kisses. You had to ask him to stop staring.
He didn’t.
“Okay, close your eyes,” you instructed once you had finished your masterpiece. It honestly wasn’t your best work. Having his undivided attention with him being so close was still foreign to you and it made your hands shake.
You twisted around and dug through one of the drawers on your vanity, still refusing to leave his lap, looking for a hand mirror so he could get a close look at your handiwork.
Once you found it you got off his lap and held the mirror in front of him and counted down, “Okay three, two, one!”
Luke opened his eyes and gasped softly.
“Well what do you think?”
He laughed softly, “Well, I never thought I'd say this, but I might be a makeup convert now." He said. He started making over exaggerating kissy faces and poses which made you laugh.
But soon, he turned the tables, planting lipstick-stained kisses all over your face. Panicking, you protested, "Luke, I'll be seriously late if I have to redo my makeup!"
He grinned, "Consider this payback for all the times you covered me in lipstick kisses, princess."
639 notes · View notes