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eufezco · 5 months

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THREE LIES AT ONCE

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!STYLIST!READER

this is based on a prompt from character.ai c:

SYNOPSIS -> You're his stylist and you discover bruises.

You liked it when Finnick visited the Capitol and Finnick hated doing it except for the fact that he knew you would be there.

You had already earned a reputation as a stylist in the Capitol when you two met. And it had been four years since Finnick won his games but President Snow had kept him close because nothing was more appealing than a charming boy in his twenties to the people of the Capitol.

You learned from the best. Cinna taught you everything he knew about fashion and then made you forget about it all so you could build your own style. It actually worked quite well because your designs were sold in the Capitol as if people needed them to live.

Your colors and characteristic shapes, your outrageous skirts, your long dresses, and your headdresses were worn by everyone, men and women fought over your designs and they spent all their savings on your clothes. President Snow was more than delighted with you, not only because his granddaughter deeply admired you but because you knew how to be liked, and he loved that about you.

That's why President Snow found the perfect match with Finnick and you and for once in his life, he did something right.

Finnick became your muse. From the moment you were introduced at the Capitol and you saw him walking towards you with those bright green eyes, his perfectly messy blonde hair, his tanned skin thanks to the way the sun in District 4, and his body that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. You knew you never wanted to design anything else but for him.

―When did you arrive and how is it that you haven't come to see me earlier? ―You threw yourself into his arms, your fingers dug into his blond locks of hair. This was not the typical relationship that stylists used to have with their models but after working with him for a couple of years now, it was inevitable that some affection would grow between the two of you. Especially when, during his stays in the Capitol, you spent most of your time together. You were the only thing that kept him from going crazy.

He would sit and watch you while you sketched out his next outfit. You would share a drink and ask him questions about how his life was back in District 4. Finnick loved to talk about his home and you loved to imagine yourself there, in the places that Finnick described to you so precisely. The sea reaching your feet, the sun shining against your skin, the sound of seagulls flying across the bluest sky you had ever seen... And for some reason that you were still trying to figure out, every time you imagined yourself in one of those scenarios, he was by your side. District 4 seemed like a lovely place.

Finnick's arms wrapped around your waist while his face hid in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your familiar scent when you hugged, too sweet for the Capitol, not like the perfume people there used to keep up with their continuous call for attention.

―Yesterday but I was too tired from the trip.

That was the first lie that Finnick told you that night.

There was an expression of relief on your face with something like a small smile on your lips, grateful to see him again after such a long time and when everything in your life was chaos thanks to the preparation of the next games. Your eyes were closed, enjoying him holding you until you heard him say those words and then they opened in a combination of surprise and confusion.

―Don't think that being tired is an excuse for not coming to see me, Finnick Odair. That should always be the first thing you do as soon as you set foot here. ―You said, still thinking about why would he lie to you.

You moved apart from the hug and Finnick had a big smile on his lips that inevitably made you smile too. ―I'm sorry. ―He apologized.

―You better be. But now I need you to tell me if you like it.

You turned to grab your notebook and showed him the sketch you drew. Finnick took the notebook from your hands so he could take a better look and admire every detail.

―This is beautiful. You're an artist. I doubt there is anyone half as good as you in the whole Panem.

―Oh, there's Cinna. I haven't managed to dethrone him yet.

―Come on, you outdid Cinna a long time ago. He says so himself. The student surpassed the master, there's nothing wrong with that.

You shook your head and said nothing. Finnick rolled his eyes, he knew you didn't like hearing from him or anyone else that you were better than Cinna. Not even when Cinna himself tells you.

―Have you started sewing it yet? Can I see it?

―That's why I needed to see you. I haven't started yet because I need to measure you again. The last time you wore one of my garments it was too tight. I don't want to risk it not fitting you this time. ―You grabbed the measuring tape and pins from the table in your studio, full of fabrics and patterns for the new tributes. Cinna had given you his notebook with some beautiful sketches and had told you that he needed something similar but for the male tribute, a guy named Peeta Mellark from District 12, and you had been working day and night to meet Cinna's expectations. ―The robe is behind the dressing screen.

―Yes ma'am.

Finnick walked over without saying another word. You admired his figure as he walked away. Finnick's back was twice as wide as when you met him, his arms had grown stronger, now you could identify each of the muscles in them and his legs had also doubled in size, unfortunately, Finnick loved to wear long skirts, if it were up to you he would be showing them all the time. The features of his face had also changed, now they were more pronounced. Finnick's dimples were more visible and his jaw was so sharp you'd swear if you slid your finger along it you'd cut yourself.

―This looks great on you. I don't know why I try to design you something new every time. I should let you go around with that.

Finnick shook his head, failing in his attempt not to laugh at your stupid joke. ―You are not only the best designer but also the funniest one, huh?

You rolled your eyes. Finnick knew you didn't like it when he told you that and he did it on purpose to tease you. ―Come on, take it off.

Finnick stood before the mirror as you stood behind him. Once he slipped it off, you gasped and jumped back, horrified.

―Gosh, Finnick, what is this? ―You took a few steps backward at the sight of the bruises that trailed down his back. By their bright red color you would say were rather recent. You didn't know how to react, you were petrified staring at his back.

Finnick smiled, dismissing what you just saw with practiced charm. ―Ah, just a little souvenir. My lovers like to play rough. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

That was the second lie Finnick told you that night.

Finnick's chest was heavy but he was trying to keep his cool. He had assumed that by the time the two of you saw each other the wounds would have healed, besides the fact that he didn't think he would have to undress in front of you.

―Your lovers? This absolute atrocity was done by one of your lovers?

―They were probably just a little too... enthusiastic. Besides, I don't have a problem with it, I like it. My skin heals fast so I'll be all good in no time.

And that was the third lie. His skin did not heal fast. You had always told him off for coming to dress rehearsals all bruised up from his training sessions and those bruises had lasted for days. These new ones were sure to stay on his skin for at least a month.

―How can some one like this?

Finnick could hear the disdain in your voice. You should be disgusted, horrified and definitely judging him, but don't worry, so was he.

―Honey, if you don't understand it's not my problem.

―No, you're right. I don't understand. I don't think you enjoyed that.

―Oh, you're gonna tell me what I can or cannot enjoy?

―Have you seen your back? Have you seen how bad this looks?

Finnick chuckled. ―I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. Do you need all the details? Is the life of a stylist so boring?

―Finnick, listen to me. I don't want all the details I want the truth, and now it's the perfect time to start. ―You said. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him around to look at you. Finnick groaned as your hands were placed on his shoulders and when he stood face to face with you, he could see how upset you were.

―I don't know what you're talking about. ―He bit the inside of his cheeks, that was just what he had been told, not to tell anyone the truth about what had happened. He saw you roll your eyes and let all the air out of your body through your mouth, annoyed.

―I know that you didn't arrive yesterday. Cinna told me. Do you really think you can go unnoticed? Here? And I know for a fact that those bruises are not from one of your lovers, let alone that they were done to you a couple of days ago.

Finnick swallowed, looking at you with his head held high. He tried to keep the smile on his lips, pretending that everything was okay, that he did enjoy it when those bruises were inflicted on him, but his lower lip betrayed him and began to tremble. You bent down to pick up the robe and carefully threw it over his shoulders so he wouldn't feel so exposed. Finnick's head was bowed. You lifted it using your thumb and index finger on his chin very gently.

―I need you to tell me who did this to you. I can't help you if you don't tell me.

Finnick chuckled amid the sadness and shame he was feeling. ―Help me? You can't help me.

―I'm sure there's something I can do. I could―.

―They were Peacekeepers following Snow's orders.

Your jaw dropped and your heart rate accelerated. It was the first time that Finnick was admitting that to someone. It had been impossible to tell anyone, let alone a citizen of the Capitol like you. Finnick couldn't possibly admit that without compromising his carefully cultivated image. Besides, if he made himself out to be a victim, the Capitol would never allow someone they saw as weak to perform the role of the Golden Boy and all the people he cared about in District 4 would die. At that moment you realized that all the times he showed up at your studio claiming that his injuries were from training were not true and you felt sick to your stomach.

―How did it happen? ―You asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat

―I tried to leave the Capitol. Before I could get on the train back to District 4 I was arrested by Peacekeepers and they took me to Snow's mansion. A lot of people came and when I refused to see them... I've been locked up there since then, that's why I couldn't come to see you earlier.

You shook your head, feeling awful. ―Don't worry about it, Finnick. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. ―Your stomach complained and begged your brain to stop imagining everything that Finnick would have been put through since then. The beatings, the strangers paying to sneak into his bed, the Peacekeepers bursting into his room and leaving him bleeding on the floor...

―Snow likes me. There has to be something I can do for you.

―You don't understand. It's not something that I can quit.

―I can spend all day designing and sewing to pay Snow the money he would make with you. I can talk to Cinna to raise the price of our designs. People here are rotten with money, they'll keep buying them anyway.

―It's not that simple. You can't just buy my freedom.

―Has anyone tried before?

Finnick thought about it and shook his head. ―Snow wouldn't allow that to happen. ―You ran your hand over your face in despair, not knowing what else to do to help him and feeling a responsibility to do something about it. You were the citizen of the Capitol, the one who had superior status and the favor of Snow, there must be something you could do.

―What if I buy you?

Finnick's eyes widened in surprise. ―Buy me?

You nodded and realized how bad that sounded. ―But not in like, a slave type of way. Gosh that sounded awful. I would just― Do it so you can live your life in your district. I wouldn't― keep you here, no. You'd just have to come to the Capitol a couple of times, make a few public appearances, and leave again.

―Why would you do that for me?

You bit the inside of your cheeks and nodded. ―You're my friend. I care about you.

You had managed to give him something he had long been missing. Hope. Maybe what you wanted to do would work or maybe not but at that moment Finnick felt that someone cared and that gave him hope that everything would work out.

Finnick took a step forward and placed his hands on your cheeks. He leaned in slightly and connected his lips with yours. Your hands ended up resting against his warm bare chest, closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you. You knew it was the emotion of the moment, the adrenaline rush of knowing that maybe he could live his life in peace. You had given him hope and he was happy that someone had shed some light on his situation.

When you parted ways after the kiss, you both were smiling.

―Go and put your pants on, I'll treat your bruises.

―Do you know how?

―Well, not really, but I'm not short of needle and thread and I still have some alcohol from last night.

Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. That would work. He walked to the dressing screen and you watched him as he walked away in the mirror's reflection. Before hiding behind the dressing screen, he said something that lit up a flame in your heart and made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

―I wish you would come with me to District 4.

my requests for the hunger games are open 📥

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ceruleancattail · 2 months

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Tattoo artist Leona

Leona x reader

(This fic was written based on online information about tattoos and the tattooing process. I am no means an authority on this subject. I apologise for any inconsistencies and incorrect information🙇‍♂️)

You could feel the heat of Leona’s palm, oozing from his gloves. A warm, intense heat that seemed intent on slipping deep into your skin. It was a gentle, balmy feeling. Reminiscent of lying on a grassy plain, allowing the golden rays of the setting sun to wash over you. Encasing you in a soft ember halo of warmth.

It would have been relaxing, if not for the dull throbbing of the needle against your body. It stung, much like a scalded wound.

Not the most painful feeling, but not the most unpleasant either.

It was hard to concentrate on the pain, not when you could feel Leona’s breath waft against your bare skin. To hear him hem and haw, the very tips of his caramel locks of hair brush against you. He tossed it all up in a messy ponytail, but the stray ends all seem to come back to you somehow.

Gentle, cloying touches. Almost flirtatious, actually. Casting a sneaky glance towards your tattooist, you shoot him a sly wink:

“Enjoying the view, Kingscholar?”

Raising an eyebrow, Leona’s expression remains disappointingly neutral. He holds that face long enough for you to pout, before chuckling softly.

“Sure, Herbivore. Sure.”

Leona sighs, a tinge of exasperation concealed within. A gloved hand rests on the back of your head, coaxing your face back in front firmly.

“Now hush, unless you want to be stuck here all day.”

You chirp enthusiastically:

“Wouldn’t mind if you’re the one keeping me company!”

“Can it.”

You laugh at his sharp reply. With only the barest wisp of a smile on those lips, Leona resumes his work. Palm flat against your skin, guiding the needle across your body. It skates across your skin with practised ease, stabbing ink into your body. Sketching out an outline, filling it in. Inking line after line, filling your body with his own handiwork.

There was something oddly personal, about that. Marking a person with his own hand, his own designs. Making your skin a canvas of his own, displaying Leona’s tattoos for the world to see. Maybe it’s because it was you. Coming into his store with that smile of yours, sharing your ideas with him.

The ideation of tattoo designs goes both ways, Y’know. The client’s idea and purpose, and the artist’s execution of said idea and purpose. Leona could spend hours seated across you, listening to you ramble about an experience you wanted to remember, a story you wanted your skin to tell. No matter what you wanted to be tattooed with, the ideas you put out do show a lot of your personality. As Leona listens, he’s taking notes on an tablet. Sketching out possible designs alongside hastily scribbled notes.

And of course, he’s sketching you, as well. Your bright eyes when you share with him your latest idea, your gestures… maybe even a rather soft looking piece of you smiling, lined with gentle, nimble strokes. Leona would never show you those willingly, unfortunately. Perhaps you’ll catch a glimpse or two when he spins the tablet around for you to preview some of his ideas.

There was something intimate about sharing conversations with you. Something romantic, even. But Leona would rather die than to admit that to you.

You’re an odd one, herbivore.

As the needles skated across your skin, you winced. The sharp point dug into a rather sensitive patch of skin, stinging your skin like a thousand wasps. Gasping in pain, you grit your teeth, grinding back certain very colourful swears. Only to have Leona pause whatever he was doing to run a palm down your back. Stroking you with a gentleness you would have never expected him to have. Leona’s hand pressed against the curve of your spine, rubbing small, reassuring circles into your skin.

He mumbled softly, a raspy sound. However as rough as it was, you could feel it slip into your ears smoothly. Almost as if it was fine wine.

“You’re ok. You’re ok, herbivore.

Breathe.”

You could feel his body warmth against your skin, bleeding into your very soul. Hell, Leona was close enough for you to feel his pulse, heartbeat beating alongside your very own. A steady tempo, calming like a childhood lullaby.

His hand stayed pressed to your back under your breathing slowed. Until the tension melted… well partially from your shoulders. Yet his touch lingered, oddly enough. Leona’s palm stayed on your back long after your heartbeat slowed back to a calmer pace.

Until your pulse beat in time with his.

Two hearts, as one.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Leona kingscholar #Leona kingscholar x reader #Leona x reader #Leona #lucky potion 🔷#lads when I said a Drabble #I fucking lies #oops #the words got me too hard #on my knees rip #information in tattoos and stuff in this fic was taken from the internet #🙇‍♂️I am so not an authority on this subject so I apologise for any misinformation

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sanjisprincesswifey · 5 months

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I’m so excited for this event I love Christmas! ❤️ Can I request Sanji, Ace or Zoro with an afab!reader? Thank you! 🎁

i love christmas too, thank you for participating! :)

you’ve received zoro + getting each other for secret santa

❆ : dorky, clueless, and in love zoro, no gender implied but reader is staying in the same room as nami and robin, 600+ words!

shit, shit, shit.

zoro knew he’d get in huge trouble if anyone caught him in here. sure,

if it was you or robin all you’d get was a stern talking to and had it been nami, a pretty good beating and a fine, that was doable. but if any of the guys caught him he’d be labeled pervert till the end of time and he could not live with being teased by sanji for that long.

right now he’s dug deep into your closet, riffling through scattered clothing items and old shoe boxes, nothing helpful.

when he hesitantly agreed to participate in the crew’s secret santa, he didn’t think it would cause him so much stress.

there was eight other names he could’ve drawn, but luck was not in zoro’s favor today when he chose yours.

he didn’t really know you, if he was being honest. he didn’t want to; well…it’s more like he was afraid to.

getting to know you, close to you, meant that he would have to admit how he felt.

admit that the sliver of personality he found himself seeking was enough to drive him insane. how knowing you for the few months you had been aboard the sunny you had unearthed a new feeling, a strange, complicated, fuzzy feeling that he strangely enjoyed.

he rifles through boxes of old photos, childhood items you brought with you, nothing really clueing him in about your interests.

as he hunches over your desk drawers, he notices a familiar piece of paper. he recognized the material from usopp’s sketch book, it was unmistakable. unfolding the page, he scans over the drawing with wide eyes.

both his and your image is illustrated on the page, an unmistakable blush colored your cheeks as doodle him smiled so brightly at you. it was strange to see his features detailed this way, he doesn't even remember being so happy.

unless...

the day flashes back through his mind; it was one of the first times he realized how severe his feelings had grown to be.

you two were resting on the mast of the sunny together, zoro was teasing sanji per usual and you just happened to join in. when he listened to your soft giggles escape your lips, attempting to hold yourself back as sanji’s rage increased, zoro found a new, more enticing reason to tease the cook.

usopp must’ve happened to witness the whole event, enough to capture the image in his sketch book, at least.

“nami?”

your voice breaks the silence in the room, immediately jolting zoro’s body as he attempts to put the drawing back exactly where it had been.

as your footsteps ascend from down the hall, he begins to panic, searching for any place to hide in the room.

“zoro? what’re you doing in here?” you question, glancing around the room noticing your side had become noticeably disheveled from when you left it this morning.

his mouth runs dry as he tries to think of any excuse that could save him right now. “you see, luffy, he, uh—“

“were you searching through my stuff?”

you step towards him, causing him to back up until he reaches the desk he was once inspecting. the items on top rattle as his large body collides with them as you stand merely inches away from him.

“and why do you seem so nervous?” you smirk, dragging a finger up his stiffened arm until you reach underneath his chin.

he can’t seem to look away from you as you glance up at him through your lashes.

“i, uh—i got to go, sorry,” he screeches, somehow slipping out from your body and darting for the door.

you giggle to yourself, noticing the ajar drawer in your desk. you collect the piece of paper he was mesmerized by before, smiling back towards his exit.

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece #one piece x reader

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sergeantsporks · 19 days

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WATCHING AND DREAMING SPOILERS

Writing request: Luz tells everybody about what she saw in the Realm In Between. Including the weird Hooty in the Titan’s eye. They spend a while questioning and investigating Hooty’s origins, increasingly confused and terrified.

Gus held an illusion microphone to Luz’s face. “Did she look like King?”

“A lot, yeah.”

“Was he as big as the Isles?”

Luz tilted one hand back and forth. “At the end? She was bones, huge when she disappeared. But when I was talking to him… you know what, how about I just draw him for you?”

King’s tail wagged back and forth. “Yes!”

Luz sketched a pear, adding limbs and claws and… she paused halfway through drawing Papa Titan’s face. One of his eyes… “Hey, Hooty? You, uh…. You wouldn’t know anything about… Look, one of her eyes was missing and had a… well, a you dangling out of it. Do you know why?”

“Of course I do, hoot. That’s where I was born.” Hooty bobbed up and down. “Why do you ask?”

King grabbed Hooty’s face in his hands. “Hooty. Hooty. You’re telling me that you lived in the titan’s eyeball, and you didn’t realize I was a titan?!”

“How would I know that? I didn’t live in your eyeball. Geeeze.”

Luz pinched her nose. This was going to be a frustrating conversation, wasn’t it? “Hooty. If you lived in the Titan’s eyeball… why did you leave? How did you get here?”

“Oh.” For a creature without shoulders, Hooty was incredibly good at shrugging. “Evelyn felt bad about taking the eye for her portal door, and offered me a place to stay at her house. Or in her house? I picked in her house.”

Willow’s jaw dropped, and she glanced at Hunter. “Wait, Evelyn? Like, from the brothers Wittebane story in Gravesfield Evelyn? You knew her?”

“Told Gus all about it in our interview!”

Everyone twisted around to look at Gus.

“What?” he demanded, “I stopped listening five minutes in. Have you heard him ramble? He told me every single thing he’s had for breakfast since he spawned! Do you know how many times I heard the phrase ‘and then I ate a bug?!’ Too many times, Luz. Too. Many. Times.”

“Okay,” Luz said slowly, “Hooty, explain. Start at the beginning.”

“Don’t say that,” Gus told her in a strangled whisper, “Luz, what have you done?”

“Well, it all started the day I hatched inside of the titan’s eyeball,” Hooty began, apparently oblivious to Gus’ distress, “I don’t remember it! Not a single thing! But I remember crawling around in the titan’s eye.”

King looked like he might be sick. “Doing… what?”

“Eating it, of course! But then maggots started spawning, so I ate those, and that’s when I realized how tasty bugs were!”

“But… you’re a bug demon, aren’t you?” Hunter asked tentatively, “Isn’t it… weird… to eat bugs?”

Hooty stared at Hunter for a long, long moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered what Hunter said. Hunter shifted nervously, but then Hooty’s eyes popped back open. “Nope!”

“The titan,” Luz pressed, “You were living in his eyeball, eating maggots, and then…”

“There was a great squelching noise, and the eyeball was ripped away! A great flood of light shone through, and I was left hanging out of the socket.”

“And then?” Luz asked again.

“Then I found out just how many bugs there were in the world. Bugs everywhere! Buzzing all around! Grown-up maggot flies, beetles, worms—”

Luz had gotten used to Hooty—or so she thought. Every so often, he’d casually reveal some extra horrifying feature of his, and she’d be left in the lurch again. As far as the way he talked, she was usually confident she could handle it. But right now, she wanted to shake him until all the answers fell out.

“Evelyn,” she interrupted, “She took out the eyeball?”

“Yep! She said she was very sorry, but she needed it for her door, and then asked if maybe I’d like to come along, and I said will there be bugs, and she said more than you can eat, which I said wasn’t likely since I’m miles of empty tube, and she laughed, and I followed her home. And she dug a burrow for me, and I jumped in, but then I found the wood of the house. And there were termites! So I ate them, and burrowed into the house. Boy was she surprised when I stuck my head out the door.”

“And—the portal?”

“You mean Eda’s portal?”

“Yes—did Evelyn build it?”

“I don’t know. I was busy. No bugs were getting in on my watch. I ate a beetle, then a fire bee, then a worm, and then a fly, and then another fly, and another fly, and then I ate Evelyn’s kid, because I thought she was a large fairy, but Evelyn made me spit her back up. And then I ate another beetle, and an ACTUAL fairy, and—”

Gus pressed pillows against his ears. “I warned you! Make him stop!

“—and then I ate a really big beetle that was all shiny gold and white when it came to bother Evelyn—”

Hunter coughed. “Is he talking about Belos?”

“—but I spit it back up because it was the wrong kind of slimy inside, and it scurried off, and I never saw it again! And then I ate a whole nest of fire bees, and a—”

Luz held her hands up in a T. “I’m sorry, timeout, Hooty, go back, you ate Evelyn’s kid? And also maybe Belos?!”

“I was eating bugs and finding out what wasn’t bugs.” Hooty arched his neck, as if trying to appear dignified. “Lulu says I have an inquisitive mind.”

“You’ve got an inquisitive stomach, at least,” Gus muttered.

“So… about Evelyn…”

“Not a bug.”

“Right, but the portal, Belos—”

“Also not bugs.”

Luz almost growled. “Okay, but the house—”

“Not a bug.” Hooty tilted his head to the side. “Waaaait… if I’m a bug… and I’m the house… have I failed? Is the enemy within? Can I eat the house? Will it end, or will I become an endless ouroboros, the bird tube eating its own house?”

Luz blinked. “Uh…”

“Well! Much to think about! Bye, Luz!”

Hooty snaked out of the room, returning to his place in the door. Luz groaned, putting her head in her hands. “Why do I feel like I know less than when we started?”

Gus patted her shoulder, nodding solemnly. “The Hooty effect, Luz. Welcome to the club.”

#toh #the owl house #toh hooty #luz noceda #toh fanfiction #my writing #asks #writing requests

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minkkumaz · 10 months

Text

DISASTEROLOGY

hyunjin dreamed of you and the things you'd do together, and not one soul knew about it. he finally draws up the courage to show you his intentions

PIERCE THE VEIL series

PAIRING hwang hyunjin x gn!reader WC 1.1k TAGS friends to lovers. lovesick hyunjin. confessions. smooching. slightly angst. fluff. suggestive implications. OMI NOTE i think out of all the members i struggle with writing hyunjin the most. i literally dwelled on this for so long but honestly turned out better than i expected. @skullverse, my ptv twin. this one is for you my schmookum wookums bc ik he's ur fav!!

a single finger traced over hyunjin’s abs, making him take a sharp breath. there were a million different kinds of fun, but that was only a figment of his mind’s eye. when he was tucked in between his sheets, a tainted dream resurfaced every night.

but this wasn’t true, no, it was completely impossible. nobody knew that he dreamt about you, the dates he’d take you on, and the way he’d hold your hand so perfectly that not one person would get a single idea besides ‘they must be together.’

this was his imagination, and when he wasn’t happily rested within it, the world felt like it was at end.

often time’s he’d wake up in a cold sweat. running a hand through his hair to detach the pieces that stuck to his forehead. his shirt clung to his body, lacking the touch of you underneath.

hyunjin sighed, looking over to his blinking alarm clock that had a small sketchbook next to it. you were meant to come over soon to spend some time with him since days like that came rarely. one quick nap later and he was soon reminded of how badly he wanted you, yet couldn’t have you.

it was everything. the way your lips parted slightly when you were confused, how you stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders after he teaches you choreography, or maybe when your hand brushed against his as you walked alongside him.

a low groan of annoyance fell from his lips, moving from his spot on the bed to freshen up in the bathroom. looking in the mirror was only a reminder that today was supposed to be the day he’d say something to you; imply that he wanted so much more than to just be friends.

all he saw was his fear looking back at him. out of every drawing he’s ever made, he could never sketch out a coherent idea of how he fell victim to your spell. so instead he settled with drawing you. just you.

it was now or never, right?

picking up his phone from the charger, he sent you a text to let you know that it was okay to come over. it wouldn’t take very long, as you didn’t live too far. in the meantime, he pushed down these possessive thoughts and cleaned himself up.

the clock felt like it was ticking slower than ever, but that was just a misconception when he heard the gentle knock on his door. thousands of butterflies awoke in his stomach, and he had never been more nervous than in that moment.

he walked over to unlock the door and let you inside. you were cozy in some pajamas, with a jacket hugging your body.

“hyun!” you grin, reaching your arms around him in a hug, enabling his hands to snake around your waist.

“hey, i haven’t seen your face in awhile.” he ruffled your hair gently.

“pff, only because you’re too busy with tour.” you tease him, pulling away to follow back to his bedroom.

“okay maybe i was a little busy! but i have a present for you from when i was on tour.” he tells you, grabbing the sketchbook on his night stand and handing it to you.

“for me?” you flipped it open to see an image of yourself laying prettily on the first page.

every pencil stroke dug into the paper, getting only the finest of details. you lower yourself back on his bed, still admiring the drawing.

“do you like it?” he smiles at you.

“do i like it? i love it oh my gosh!” you bounce slightly on his mattress, giddy with endorphins.

you place the book next to you on the comforter, reaching your hands out to pull him towards you in another embrace. in the midst of this all, he falls against you on the bed.

all you could do was let out quiet giggles with the boy on top of you, his head stuffed in the crook of your neck.

he lifted himself up, leaning up on one of his forearms. his free hand traveled to your face, moving small strands of hair that were blocking your vision. a pink hue played across his cheeks; this position felt too similar to the ones in his imagination.

“i don’t know how you were able to get all those details of me. you even got one of my moles!” you beam from underneath him.

“you’re just on my mind all the time, how could i not?”

“uh huh, you’re too busy being one of the most desired men on the planet.” you joke with him, failing to realize he was being serious. your expression shifts when he doesn’t laugh.

“did you know that i dream about you, y/n?” he says tenderly, grazing his fingertip over your jawline.

“wh– pardon?” you mutter.

“there’s so much i want to tell you, but i don’t want to scare you off.” he looked intimidating, towering over you. but there was so much care in his words that it confused you.

“hyunjin.. you could never scare me off. i value all of my time with you.” you respond calmly, trying to mask your flusteredness.

the line he drew down your face stopped, instead drifting down your neck and across your collarbones. a shiver travelled down your spine.

“are you sure that you mean that, y/n?” his voice was composed sweetly.

“i mean it.”

“whenever i draw you, i think back to these daydreams i have about you. about us. we did so much together, but none of it was real.” he stopped, “it made me second guess things a lot. but i figured that even if the world was ending, shouldn’t we spend the rest of our time in love?”

“i– i don’t know what to say.” you lay below him with a shocked look on your face, but you were far from scared. you were curious.

“don’t say anything. just imagine us, please?” there were undertones of distress in his words.

“i like you, so much. but i don’t want to ruin things between us. i was so terrified.” you confess, biting back a frown.

“you won’t ruin anything, my muse. you’re anything far from poisonous. things will be okay.”

“how will i know for sure?”

hyunjin looks into your glazed eyes, you were looking like you were about to cry. this only made him smile more.

he leaned down closer to you, until he was only inches away from your ear. you could feel every inhale and exhale sliding down the side of your neck.

“you’ll know if you stay. i want to create something beautiful,” he whispers, “then destroy it.”

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz ! PIERCE THE VEIL series

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kayentokk · 1 year

Text

Portraying Bakugo Katsuki

— Pairing; Katsuki Bakugo x GN! Reader

— Synopsis; People often see Bakugo in a harsh light, and he’s gotten used to it. However, when you portray him in your fluorescent light, he thinks he likes it a bit more. Based on this Drabble I made. —contains; fluff, doting, frustration, soft! Bakugo(?)

—wc; 682

—A/N; just a cute lil thought

“Ughhh,” that was the 10th time you sighed, in 3 minutes.

You frantically dragged your poor abused eraser across your paper, for the 6th time, and created a hole in your erased pencil stained paper. Angrily, you balled up the paper and threw it in the trash bin by your desk, which was overflown with countless of your other crumbled up drawings.

It was like nothing was working. You had great models right in front of you on your tablet screen, and you just didn’t like what you were producing.

Shutting the computer screen, you dug your head into your arms and closed your eyes. Deciding that he’d had enough of your ‘fits’ Bakugo gruffly asks,

“The hell is wrong now?”

“I just can’t do it,” you reply defeatedly.

He sighs, ”do what?”

“This art class assignment,” you groan, “no matter what I do or who I draw my creative juices just aren’t flowing to me, ya know?”

He just grunts a “mm”

Then it hit you, and you sat up to stare at him. And almost like clockwork, he had sensed what you were thinking and immediately huffed out a,

“No.”

“Awww cmon’ pleasee?”

“No Y/n.”

“Please? I’ll help you with anything, anytime.”

“No.”

“You just want me to fail,” you mumble under your breath with a pout.

“Oh for fucks sake,” he says running a hand through his hair, “make it quick.”

He gives in. He always gives in to you. Most times, he wants to punch himself in the face for it, but he just can’t say no.

“Yay! You’re the best Kats!” You quickly perk up.

“Yeah yeah,” he replies.

You got him a stool from your kitchen and placed it next to your spinny desk chair.

“Okay sit and I’ll tell you how to pose.”

He sat with hesitance, as you pulled up a picture on your phone of a model with their arm over their head facing towards the left, the perfect pose.

You showed him with the biggest smile on your face,

“No.”

“Aww cmon,” you whined.

“Y/n.”

“Fine, just sit still, straighten your back, and lift your chin.”

He did as you asked, a bit awkwardly at that but he did it. You turned your lamp light on the right side of his face and sat for a moment amazed at what you saw.

His sharp jawline relaxed but still prominent in his features, the vein in his neck bulging a bit at you staring deeply at his features. His beautiful dark crimson eyes aren’t tensed or harsh they’re just perfect, and his skin almost glowing from the radiating fluorescent lamp light.

You quickly began sketching, noticing the small drop of sweat that rolled off of his neck and down to his collarbone, he was nervous. He’d never been sketched before.

“Calm down I’m almost done,” you said trying to ease his nerves.

When you were finished you put your pencil down, looked at the drawing, looked back at him, and smiled. You were content, no more than that, happy? You finally got the drawing you wanted. You captured his full essence on the paper, from the neck up.

You turned the notebook around to show him, well there wasn’t many pages left after an hour of you trying and failing, with the biggest grin on your face.

“Look! It’s good right? You’re such a good model maybe you can do this for me all the time-“

“Y/n,” he promptly cut you off.

“I know I know, thanks for helping me. I’ll go get some water for my hard working model,” you giggled while getting up to walk to your kitchen.

Bakugo found himself staring at the drawing intently, was that really him? The way you captured him on the blank piece of paper made him seem almost, calm?

You came bustling back into the room with two chilled glasses of water.

“Here ya go, and thanks again,” you said handing him the water.

“Mhm,” he grunts.

And deep down inside he thinks maybe he wouldn’t mind you drawing him again…

@/firefly-graphics for the divider

#mha #bnha #anime #manga #fluff #men #bakugo #Katsuki #mha bakugou #mha katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo fluff #katsuki fluff #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader

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shhh-secret-time · 4 months

Note

We need more of that Soulmate stuff! Can we get one with Stan??? I've such a weakness for our goth boy!

Oh and thank you for writing gn! It's such a small thing but it makes me feel good to read! 🫶

Of course you can! I love Stan and soulmate shit so literally any excuse! I'm glad my writing makes you feel good darling!

Warning: Strong Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, over use of the word skin and flesh, and a single shit excuse for poetry

Pairings: Stan x GN!Reader

The most annoying habit Stan had was chewing his bottom lip, so many things of lip balm used to try and repair his lips. Little discarded tubes of flavors that were the foulest thing he'd ever tasted, it was Kyle's idea, if it tasted bad maybe he could trick his brain into stopping the habit.

The second annoying habit was drumming his fingers on his desk, he was especially bad about it when he was younger. That was before the little marking on his skin started popping up. Little words and doodles on his forearm dancing on his skin. At first it freaked him out, he was fourteen and these weird little tattoos were popping up on his skin and then disappearing.

The third annoying habit was never learning to not go to his father when he didn't understand something. One would think after it backfiring so many times Stan would learn to go to his mother when he had questions. To his credit Randy did give him an answer. It just led to a whole ordeal of him telling the entire fucking town that his son has a soulmate and that his son was just like him when he was fourteen. It was embarrassing and he hoped that whoever his soulmate was didn't hear it.

Apparently, the little doodles and grocery shopping lists on his forearm was his soulmate’s handwriting and boy did they love to draw on their arm. Stan would be out in the football field practicing his throws when he'd feel the light brush of the pen across his arm. Which always lead to him fumbling a pass. Maybe he had to thank his coach for all the times he yelled at him because it was after one practice that he finally started marking on his arm back.

At first it was just to try and get whoever his soulmate was back. Taking a sharpie to the underside of his forearm, the big blocky letters spelled S-T-O-P. He remembers tugging down his sleeve with a grumble, thinking he would be free from the torment. Little did he know this was a declaration of war.

You were sitting in the science lab when it happened, working on your assignment when the letters appeared. Up until then you never saw something like that happen, so when it did you nearly dropped the beaker. Soulmate or not, who did they think they were to send such a passive aggressive message?! You excused yourself and hurried to the bathroom, ignoring the look of your partner. You pulled up your sleeve and glared down at bright silver words.

Stan furrowed his brows as his eyes scanned over the new message.

"Who uses a silver sharpie?! Are you kidding me?!" You hissed.

Well, you couldn't take that sitting down, could you? Your hands dug into the pockets of your pants to pull out the pen you always kept on you. Dragging the tip of the cheap pen across your skin, you wrote your little soulmate a loving note.

"Eat shit."

The font lit a fire in him as his eyes narrowed. Stan took the lid off the sharpie and drew a crude middle finger on his palm. Once he was satisfied with it, he pulled his gloves back on, maybe his soulmate didn't have gloves and would have to deal with that.

From then on Stan carried that damn sharpie everywhere. He would be in the middle of talking with his friends about something when he'd feel your words sketch onto his skin again. He would stop even if he was in the middle of something just to read whatever rude thing you'd come up with. It was Kyle who finally approached him about it.

"Dude you're gonna get ink poisoning." Stan almost missed the way Kyle scolded him, to focused on writing.

"I don't care Kyle! They're insulting the Broncos!" Stan hissed back.

"How did you even get on that topic?" Kyle rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I-...I don't know but I'm not going to just let them shit on my favorite team!" He looked up towards his best friend, Kyle could see the fire behind those blue eyes and almost chuckled.

"This person is supposed to be your soulmate, ya know? Like your forever partner."

"I know that! But it's like they know exactly what to say to get under my skin!" Stan groans as he caps the sharpie and slumps back against the park bench. "I mean...was it like this for you? You found yours recently."

The red head raised a brow at his friend, the question catching him off guard. "Hm...no? We got along pretty much instantly. Guess it helped they found me before I found them?"

Stan watches as Kyle presses a thumb into his palm. A warm smile plays across his lips as he rubs the golden letters. Rumors of Kyle and his soulmate spread quick, they were the talk around campus for a while much to Kyle’s dismay.

"But I get what you're feeling."

"You fight with your partner like this?"

"What? No! Not yet at least...I mean it's bound to happen eventually, but I mean the thing you said about their words getting under your skin." Kyle shook his head making the green straps on his head swing back and forth. Before Stan could respond Kyle held up his hand and continued. "They'll text me or say something to me and it just...feels like my heart is going to explode. The first time we kissed it felt like my skin was on fire, it felt intense. So... I think that might just be a side effect of having a soulmate. Everything is kinda turned up to eleven."

Stan just sat there and listened to him. He pushed his hands in his coat pocket and squeezed the sharpie, letting the words sink in. Leave it to Kyle to make him think about it more. Stan responds with a long sigh.

"... Maybe."

"Hey at least you can talk to yours. We had to go based off each other's thoughts...it's hard keeping my thoughts in control."

"Yeah, I don't know if I could live with that, probably end up cutting my hand off." Stan chuckles and looks down at his forearm.

Maybe he could swallow his pride a little and just take it easy. It certainly made sense now why your words were having such an effect on him. If everything was turned up to eleven like Kyle said, then maybe he needed to take a step back and try something else.

It wasn't until he was sitting in class bored again that he got the idea. He even went out of his way to use a different marker, one with a smaller point. Pressing the tip to his arm, he watched the bright blue ink bleed into his skin. Stan didn't really know what to write, it was hard to go from writing stupid insults and drawing crude things to something just mundane. He pressed his lips together and stared hard at the little blue dot until his hand started moving. Stan wrote best when it was in song lyrics or his poems.

Watercolor running down my skin.

It's supposed to feel cool but all it does is make my head spin.

You get under my skin like fire.

The tip of your pen bleeds me like sharp wire.

He pulls back and looks down at it with narrowed eyes. Stan can already feel the warm embarrassment spreading over his face and up to the tip of his ears. Quickly pulling down his sleeve again, he tried to push it out of his mind for the rest of the day. An hour went by before he felt that all too familiar feeling, it was something he was getting used to at this point. He looked down and his eyes widened in awe.

"Did you write that? It's good."

No smart-ass comment about his poetry. You didn't make fun of him for putting his words in a silly simple format. You just complimented it. Stan could feel his heart speeding up as he re-read the small sentence under his poetry over and over again.

"Yeah. I'm not good at communicating normally."

"Poetry is just easier for ya huh?"

"That or music."

"Really? You play?"

Stan grinned down as he started running out of room on his forearm, having to move to the surface of his arm now. His face getting closer to his skin as he hunches over his desk to keep writing.

"Yeah, guitar and a little bass. They're kinda similar."

"That's cool!"

"Do you play any?"

And soon his entire arm was covered in back and forths. Talking about music to whatever else the two of you could come up with. He learned about all your hobbies just as you learned his. You started keeping a little journal of all the poems he wrote you, all the little songs he'd write down across his. It was when you'd wake up to a poem, first thing in the early mornings. The sunlight caressing your entire body, wrapping you up like a hug.

The poems spoke of things like how he was excited to talk to you throughout the day. Asking you if blue was starting to become your favorite color. Did you think of him when you saw it? Things like how he was so happy to see you respond and that he thinks of you every time he strums on his guitar. You were just thankful he couldn't hear your heartbeat or see the way he made your face flush.

But there was that longing to finally see this person. You learned your partner was a he but the thought of asking him his name didn't seem to matter. It was like you'd known him your whole life, and because of him blue was starting to become your favorite color. So one night as you sat at your desk, you decided to just go for it.

"Hey. I just thought about how I don't know your name!" You had to move to writing with your non-dominate hand which made your handwriting a little shaky.

You giggled at the little doodle that came up next to your statement. It was a horrible drawing of Kirby pointing at the writing, but his face was scrunched up in disgust.

"I dunno. Didn't think about it."

You waited after reading his sentence, thinking he was going to continue. Nope. Nothing.

"Well, what is it??" You asked as you doodled next to the Kirby, a little frog wearing a hat joining the fray.

"It's Stan."

"What?! No way!"

You circled Stan's name with your pen and drew a bunch of exclamation marks. You knew a Stan; he was the quarterback at your university! He had three little friends that always seemed to follow him! He was the kid who brought a guitar to-

He brought a guitar to class sometimes.

He wrote in his notebook when he thought no one was watching.

He made your heart beat and the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

He was your soulmate.

Did he even notice you like you did him? Did he know you sat across the room from him in history? Or that you were his soulmate? Of course he didn't! He doesn't even know your name.

You break out of your spiraling thoughts when you see the blue ink across your skin again. "Pretty sure way. That's the name my mom gave me."

"You know what I mean dick! I know you! You're Stan Marsh! You live on that farm that's like an hour away from here in South Park!"

There was nothing for a while. Maybe you shouldn't have said all that, but the faster your heart sped the faster you wrote. You didn't think to slow down until you looked back at how hastily everything was written.

"You go to my university, don't you?" He asked.

"South Park college. Go cows." You doodled a little cow next to the response hoping to relief a little tension.

"Go to Stark Pond in an hour."

"What?! Dude it's like 6:30! I can't just leave this late!"

"I wanna meet you and I don't wanna wait. I'm already in my truck."

You could tell from the way the letters were spaced out and slanted. It was almost gibberish, gibberish that had your blood pumping. In a manner of seconds, you learned the name of your soulmate and you were actually considering going out. It would be around seven thirty before he actually showed up. You bit your lip and looked over at your car keys but only for a moment. When the thoughts of how he wanted to meet you were so bad he was willing to drive out again to see you. To see who you were. The fear of disappointing him did cross your mind, what if he hyped you up too much.

You knew Stan Marsh. You knew how pretty he was and how he could make a group of people follow him. You knew he had those beautiful baby blue eyes that seemed to go forever.

God you loved the color blue.

With a huff you grabbed your keys and put on some decent clothes. You waited at Starks Pond for that hour, you could have stayed home to wait but your anxiety wouldn't let you. Not the way your heart was still pounding, every minute that passed felt like agony. Pulling your jacket closer to your body, you almost leapt out of your skin each time a car would pull up; only to be disappointed when anyone that wasn't Stan got out or drove off.

When finally, a beat up brown truck pulled up next to yours. Your breath hitched when you saw movement, breathing out when you saw a familiar pair of red shoes. A blue hat that looked well-loved over shaggy black hair.

He was standing by the water looking around, he looked as nervous as you felt. Just when he thinks you're not coming do you finally find the strength, the feeling, in your legs to step out of the car. The cold air nipping at your skin, it felt like ice right now from the way your skin set ablaze. The sounds of your footsteps crunching against the snow makes him look back and his jaw drop.

"It's you."

"It's me." You respond with a little smile, your voice barely above a whisper.

Stan takes the initiative and meets you halfway, the two of you meeting on the worn out walking trail. It isn't until he steps into the moonlight that you realize he's not wearing his jacket, but you notice the ink going up and down his arms.

"You actually came. I didn't think you would."

"I almost didn't...it's cold you know." You shoot him a little smirk, changing the tone in your voice to a lighthearted tease.

Stan let's out a breathy chuckle, you can see the little puff of air that escapes his lips. He takes a step closer towards you. You can feel the heat coming off him, radiating around your body. "Yeah guess it is. Forgot my jacket."

"Were you that excited?"

"Are you kidding? Yeah! It's not fair you knew what I looked like!"

And when you giggled Stan felt himself walking on air. The way you made his heart soar from that alone. He'd never write something funny on his arm again, if he had something funny to say you'd hear it just so he could hear that laugh.

"Then I hope you're not disappointed."

"Wh... what? Of course I'm not disappoint- You have no idea how much I'm trying not to throw up right now."

"What?!"

"No! Hold on! That came out worse than I meant! I mean I'm nervous because- because you're so beautiful and-....and I'm fucking this up, aren't I?" You watch the panic in Stan's eyes as he scrambled to try and find the right words.

You broke his mind when you laughed again. If your hands didn't come out to take his he would have bolted, ran off to find hole to crawl into. Instead, your hands anchor him to that spot, your smile brings him back down just for him to get lost in your eyes.

"You do suck at communicating." You whisper and press a kiss into his cheek.

"Uh...yeah well...you're the one kissing me. So ...I must be doing something right." Stan mentally kicks himself for that comment, but he can't help that little competitiveness in him.

Stan doesn't let you get whatever you're about to say out, his lips meet yours eagerly. He knows whatever you're about to say is only going to make his face turn a deeper shade of red. When he pulls away and sees your eyes are shut and your lips still slightly parted from the kiss, he knows he's already in deep. Especially when you cupped his face and brought him in for another.

Everything felt like being turned up to eleven. Everything felt right. You felt right being in his arms like this. He never wanted to come down from this feeling and he was sure you felt the same.

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kyriethesquishysquid · 8 months

Text

Betrayal Never Felt So Good (König/Fem!Reader) Chapter 3

You can find Chapter 1 here, Chapter 2 here, Chapter 4 here, Chapter 5 here, and Chapter 6 here!

Word count: ~6k

Rating: Mature

A/N: Some use of Y/N and Y/L/N. Feral and jealous Possesive!König. LOTS of smut and tooth-rotting fluff! Literally all smut and feels. Reader is still morally grey and morally questionable. Reader has confidence issues that may be expanded upon later. Continued COD and military inaccuracies galore. Once again written in less than 24 hours so please forgive any mistakes! Also, I have my own canon idea of what König looks like and I’ll post a lil sketch later!

TW: Descriptions of stalking and obsession, hurt/comfort. Low self-esteem, self-confidence issues, allusion to past trauma. SMUT! Oral, fingering, rough sex, dom/sub tones, mild choking, size kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, and creampie. LOTS of emotions and feelings. Pet names (in English and German), bad German translations bc I’m STILL a lame monolingual American, and STILL no beta because we die like jackass Graves.

Crappy Translations:

Maus - Mouse

Mein schatz - My darling

Meine leibling - My love

Süßes mädchen- Sweet girl

Scheiße - Shit

Du könntest die Welt in die Knie zwingen, mein kleiner Maus, und du merkst es nicht einmal - You could bring the world to its knees, my little mouse, and you don't even realize it

The moment König shut the door to his room, you were thrown up against the wall. He didn’t give you even a second to react before his mouth was on yours, biting and licking as if he’d die without it.

“K-König,” you breathed.

You were planning on pushing him away, demanding he talk about the admission from before, but the instant your palms touched his chest you lost all your fight. God, his muscles were tight beneath your hands. All you could think about was how good it felt to lay on that solid chest, how your nails dug marks into the skin there mere months ago. He chose that exact moment to slip his leg between yours and the height difference was great enough that you were pressed tight against the wall by his massive thigh.

“Oh fuck!”

He let out a low groan as he lifted his leg again, one hand sliding down to your hip to pull you into the motion. Your eyes rolled back as a desperate noise left your throat, high and whiny. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d dreamed about riding his thick thighs and it was even better than you’d imagined, his tense muscle pressing in all the right ways.

“I’ve missed hearing those beautiful noises, mein schatz,” he hummed lowly, “My imagination and hand were a terrible substitute.”

If you weren’t giving in already, that right there would have done it. Hearing him admit that he jacked off to the thought of you… oh, it checked all the right boxes. The mental image of his in his bed, jerking his cock and whispering your name nearly sent you over the edge.

“I- I still- Fuck, I still want an- an explanation,” you whimpered between moans.

König chuckled low and deep, the vibrations rumbling through your chest as he set a devastating rhythm against your core. Each bounce of his leg pushed the seam of your jeans against your clit in the most tantalizing way.

“I will tell you everything your little heart desires,” he promised, leaning down until his lips were pressed against your ear, “After I get to taste that sweet pussy and feel you come for me, ja?”

A little gasp escaped your lips when he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you. Deft fingers began undoing your jeans while his other hand slid up under your sweater, lifting it inch by inch as he ghosted over every dip in your abdomen. When his lips came to press little kisses along your soft belly, you instinctively tried to wrench away, only to be strongarmed into staying right where you were. God, as much as you were self-conscious about your extra plush, he made it almost bearable.

“Mmm, I never thought I could miss something so badly,” he groaned.

Your cheeks flushed under the praise. Careful not to lift his hood too high, you slipped under the material and ran your fingers along his jaw, shivering as the prickly stubble scraped across your palm. It was insane how comfortable and easy it was to fall back into this, how much you were willing to look past just to have these little moments.

“Me either,” you admitted meekly, heart lurching in your chest at the look in his eyes as they met yours.

As he tugged on your jeans, you lifted your hips and helped wiggle them down, letting out a sigh of relief once the constricting fabric went flying across the room. In the next breath, he had your sweater bunched up over your chest while pressing open-mouthed kisses over your thighs.

“Shirt and bra off.”

You quickly complied and were rewarded with the most animalistic growl, one hand covering your breast while the other lifted your leg. The sudden shift nearly sent you off balance but König was quick to catch you and press you back against the wall. Once sure you were stable, he wasted no time hooking a finger into your panties just to jerk them aside and dive in without preamble.

“Jeeessuusss, wa-warning next time!” you gasped out weakly.

His muffled laugh was the only response you got, tongue busy tracing gentle circles around your clit while his fingers pinched and squeezed your sensitive nipple. Fuck, you’d almost forgotten how good he was at this. Brows furrowing, you let your head fall back against the wall with a little thump and sunk your hand into his short hair. It was hard to believe you were finally getting to feel him again, to have him worshiping you between your thighs like a man possessed. He knew just what to do, how to flick his tongue at the perfect pace to have your sanity cracking at the edges and your body bowing to his whims.

“F-Fuck! Plea-Please, more,” you whimpered, tugging at his locks as you trembled against him.

He said something but you couldn’t hear him considering he didn’t even bother leaving your pussy for half a second. It didn’t really matter anymore once you felt his hand trail from your thigh to your cunt. Your breath caught in anticipation while he slid a single digit up and down your slit, collecting your arousal leisurely until finally- finally- he pushed into your core.

You nearly fell then, body instinctively arching into him and his touch, but, as always, he was solid and secure, keeping you safe while never breaking his rhythm. Having even just one of his fingers in your again was like heaven. The few times you’d gotten yourself off, your fingers were nothing compared to his. He easily reached that sweet spongy spot along your wall that drove you crazy and knew exactly how to stimulate it.

“Have to work you open slowly, süßes mädchen, wouldn’t want to hurt you,” he purred softly.

You stupidly nodded in agreement but then, all of a sudden, he froze, leaving you whining desperately.

“Wha- why?” you groaned.

When you looked down, you found his bright blues narrowed, looking up at you in a way that you couldn’t decipher. That was… concerning. All the lust evaporated from your mind, leaving you concerned and afraid as he held your eyes intently.

“König, what’s wrong?”

“Nobody else has touched you, have they?” he hummed, a hint of danger lacing his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, earning a glare from the Austrian.

“What’s funny?”

“König, no, there hasn’t been anybody else,” you explain softly, tracing your hand from his hair down to his lips, flushing when you found them wet, “How could there be? I told you you ruined me for other men.”

“Meine leibling.”

There were so many emotions in those two words.

You had to smile as you replied, “You really have to teach me German so I know what you’re saying to me.”

His hand wrapped around yours and pulled it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm with a little murmur.

“It means my love,” he explained.

Suddenly, it felt hard to breathe. Why was he so damn sweet? It was hard to bear, and yet you didn’t want him ever to stop. Before you could respond, he buried his face between your thighs with a growl and thrust two fingers into your heat.

The world blurred behind tears as you focused all of your attention on that deft slick muscle flicking your sensitive nub like a toy. Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, he finally started finger fucking you, curving his digits to push against your g-spot with every thrust. The pressure was almost unbearable, the need to come stringing your entire body tighter than a bow. You were almost sad with how fast it was coming to an end because you could honestly live with the feeling of his mouth on you for the rest of your life.

“Oh! Oh fuck, König, pleasepleaseplease-”

Your voice cut off with a sharp keen when your climax hit suddenly. Slamming your head back against the wall with parted lips, you tried to moan or gasp or do anything other than scream silently at the ceiling but the pleasure was stifling. You could feel the breath he took in as you pulled him closer to your cunt by the roots of his hair. It felt like you’d been edged for the past two months and now, that he was finally allowing you bliss, it was too much. An almost psychotic giggle escaped as his name finally fell from your lips in a cry that you’d most likely regret in the morning. If he had neighbors, they were no doubt getting a surprise X-rated show tonight.

Ever the giver, he didn’t pull away until you were whimpering and pushing him, every stroke of his tongue like a double-edged sword; pain and pleasure perfectly rolled into one. The instant he was on his feet, you jerked him down into a hungry kiss, moaning lewdly into his mouth as you tasted your arousal on his lips.

“Need to see you, please!” you begged as you tugged at his shirt.

It took him next to no time to comply, seemingly just as excited and only slowing down to ensure his hood wasn’t coming off before he was completely naked. Despite having just come, you could feel your body craving his in the most intimate ways. Fuck. He could make millions being a model. There was no denying he was the embodiment of masculinity, every muscle on his body thick and solid with a testament to how hard he worked his body. Before he could do anything else, you reached out for him. Your fingertips traced invisible lines across every dip and rise of his muscle, paying special love to each scar that adorned his body, lips following everywhere your eyes went. He was trembling, obviously tense but willing to let you worship every inch of his skin.

A quiet moan of appreciation slipped out as you kissed down his adonis belt and traced your tongue around the base of his cock. He was still fucking huge, of course. At first, you’d thought maybe it was the newness of the situation that made him seem so big in your eyes but there was no denying his size with it right in front of you. Just the sight made your cunt throb in need. As you went to touch him, he caught your wrist in a vice grip.

“If you touch me up anymore, I’m going to come and I refuse to do that before I feel you around me,” he hissed.

Biting your lower lip, you nodded in understanding, letting him guide you to your feet silently.

“Mein Gott, I need to be in you now.”

Without warning, he picked you up onto his waist and carried you over to the bed, tossing you gently onto the mattress before climbing over you. Another biting kiss left your lips so swollen and sore that you knew you’d have to come up with some lie for it tomorrow; And for any other marks that might appear on your body.

“Turn over,” he instructed, pulling your thighs to the side.

You did as asked and let him position you how he wanted, which turned out to be face down ass up. Big hands palmed your cheeks with a throaty groan, squeezing and spreading, leaving you wide open to his gaze. It was embarrassing to be so exposed but the little noises he made in response were encouraging.

“Du könntest die Welt in die Knie zwingen, mein kleiner Mus, und du merkst es nicht einmal,” he sighed quietly, “You want to know more, ja?”

Reality settled in around your lust-addled brain for just a moment but it was shoved quickly aside when he gently began to push three fingers in.

“F-Fuck!”

“It started six months before we met, when we were contracted to gather intel on Shadow Company,” he explained slowly as he stretched your walls thoroughly.

You almost told him you didn’t care about it at that point but there was still some semblance of a brain in your nervous system so you let him talk.

He let out a little breath then continued, “I’m really not exactly certain as to why but, when I saw your picture, you called out to me; so beautiful and bright, the exact opposite of everything I’ve grown used to seeing. That sweet little smile and those cherub cheeks, so full of life and kindness. And then I read on, learned more from your file about your past before joining Graves. You’ve experienced so much destruction, mein schatz, and yet you still have the light in your eyes. I told myself to let it go but I couldn’t. Not after seeing that.”

He paused as he shifted his wrist and positioned his fingers deeper into your core with a grunt.

“At this point, I’m sure it’s no secret that we have agents inside other factions, and I used them to get to know you more. What you were really like, how you interacted with everyone, what you liked- More and more until I was in too deep.”

There were so many emotions to sort through as he talked but the way he was curling his fingers made it more than impossible. You couldn’t resist wiggling your hips at him with a whine.

“Please,” you groaned, “Keep talking but fuck me!”

A sharp slap echoed through the room and the pain quickly blossomed across your cheek, making you clench around his fingers. You almost wiggled again just to feel more of that sting.

“All in good time. You need to learn patience, maus.”

“Fu-Fuck, I have patience but I went two fucking months without this and you expect me to just-”

Another slap and another cry from your lips found your head dropping in defeat. König was the master of patience, as he’d proven multiple times before, and you knew you weren’t going to get anywhere with him until he was ready.

“As I was saying,” he retorted sternly, “I admit it was not fair to have such an advantage against you when we first met, but I wanted- no, I needed to know how to treat you right, in all the ways you loved. Part of me knew I should leave you alone. You were too good, too perfect. I’d just ruin you. You deserved better, but I’m not a good man, schatz, and I am selfish. When I found out we were moving against your team with the orders to kill as necessary, I knew I had to take you, for your safety and my own conscience. And then- then I had you. It was the most maddening experience, seeing you so weak and small, at my complete mercy and whim. Just the thought that something could have happened to you…”

He trailed his words off with a deep growl that sent your hair on end.

“I would have killed them had they tried to touch you.”

Your eyes widened at that. Was he serious? He would have killed his comrades to protect you? Someone he hadn’t even met yet?

“I had planned to just let you out safely once we secured another information source, but scheiße, imagine my surprise when I found you so receptive to me.”

Lips trailed soft kisses over your soft globes, leaving little love bites in their wake as he worked up your spine. Shivers crept across your skin and you leaned into the touch eagerly, your body craving anything and everything he would give.

“I never expected to be allowed to touch you,” he whispered against your shoulder, “A literal angel. So perfect and willing to accept a monster like me. I truly considered just keeping you there, hiding you away in my quarters for the rest of time, but things went wrong.”

A twinge of guilt tightened your stomach in a different, more unpleasant, way. Daniel had found you in König’s room, thankfully dressed and prepared, and you couldn’t resist lest you have a target on your back for the rest of your life.

“Every day you were gone, I checked on you. I had them convince Graves that you were too fragile to go back out on dangerous missions, that you needed rest for your physical and mental health. If I couldn’t have you here to protect you, I was going to do my damndest to do what I could from afar. I’ve always had your best interests at heart, meine leibling, always. While I may have gone about it the wrong way, I don’t regret it for one second; Because now I have you. I’m no good but, gottverdammt, you make me want to be better for you.”

“König, I-”

Pulling his fingers out, he silenced you with another smack, a rumbling laugh filling the air when you squeaked in pain.

“Later, leibling, but right now, I need you.”

You nodded in understanding and prostrated yourself further, lifting your hips to help him get a better angle.

He groaned lowly and squeezed your hip tight, the other hand dragging his cock up and down your cunt, coating himself in your slick until he was thoroughly wet.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he sighed when you pushed back against him.

“Then you’d best take me with you,” you retorted.

If he responded, you couldn’t hear it over your own moan when he thrust in. Brows furrowing and mouth gaping, you cursed him softly as he caught you off guard. There was no waiting, no patience. This was raw animalistic need. Two more thrusts and he was balls deep, stretching you in the most primal way and leaving you gasping for breath.

“I’m sorry, meine leibling, but I- I couldn’t wait,” he whined softly, “Relax, you’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.”

You couldn’t manage even a single coherent word, just his name and foul curses leaving your lips in quiet little whimpers.

“You okay, maus?” he asked as his hips stilled.

“Fine! I’m fine, just- fuck, keep moving,” you cried.

He held your hips still and instantly gave you what you asked for, setting a punishing pace that made your muscles cry out. It felt like he was in your guts, stretching you to the limits and keeping a perfect balance, tipping precariously between ecstasy and anguish. No doubt you’d be covered in bruises tomorrow, internal and external. Fuck, your ass might even be too sore to sit from taking the brunt of his weight. Decidedly worth it.

It didn’t take long to feel that pressure building up in your lower belly again, his cock filling every last inch of your cunt, head dragging across your sweet spot with every slam of his hips. Without thinking, you shot a hand between your thighs and rubbed your clit viciously, lips parting in a pornographic-level moan.

“K-König, feels so good, please, don’t stop!”

“Oh fuck,” he moaned huskily, “That’s right, good girl. Come for me. Wanna feel this needy little cunt soak me.”

His growls were lost in the cacophony of your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin. Clenching tight around him earned a brutal smack and that was all it took. For the second time that night, you felt the overwhelming waves crash through you, prying a broken whine from your mouth as tears of bliss streamed down your cheeks. It was too much, not enough.

“Y/N, lift up and look back at me,” König demanded suddenly.

He stilled long enough for you to push up onto one arm and he instantly grabbed your jaw, wrenching your head back until he could smash his mouth onto yours with a sigh. Slowly, he began to move his hips again, and you welcomed his tongue against yours, the hectic fucking turning into something more sweet, romantic.

“Now these, these are the tears I love. You look so beautiful when you cry for me,” he cooed quietly, “My perfect little girl with those cock drunk eyes and that sweet little smile. I could stare at you like this forever.”

“Mmm, wanna be here forever,” you whimpered back.

When he released your face, he didn’t let you collapse back down into your downward dog, instead, he hooked his arm around your neck and held you up, resting his head atop yours while subtly restricting the flow of blood and oxygen without being too much.

“Of course, schatz, who else will fuck you like this? Who else could shape this tight little hole like I can?”

Though you knew he was teasing by the tone in his voice, you couldn’t help but whine, “No one! No one could ever make me feel this good. Only you, König, just you! I’m yours.”

A familiar snarl was your only warning before he picked up the pace.

“Ja, that’s right. Mine! No one will ever touch you again. I’ll kill anyone who tries! You. Are. Mine! Mind- body- soul- forever!”

The scream you let out was demonic and burned your throat raw with the force, but it still didn’t feel like enough- not enough to convey how good he made you feel or the way you felt for him as a whole. Nails digging into his forearm, you clawed onto him for balance as your legs began to wobble, your entire body giving out under the onslaught that was König. He finally released his hold on your throat only to dig his fingers deep into the plush of your hips.

“Y-Yes!” you gasped out when he finally let you rest on your forearms once more, one hand tangling into your locks, “And- And you’re mine. Meine- Meine leibling.”

You knew you butchered his mother tongue but it was worth the whimper he let out and the bruising grip on your hip. Now completely free of restraint, you don’t hesitate to fuck him back, throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts and squeezing your tight walls around his cock.

“Ahh, I’m going to come, maus. Gonna- Scheiße!”

“Fuck yes, please! Pleasepleaspleaseplease come in me, König. Wanna make you feel good, baby! Wanna be good for you.”

Your face was suddenly slammed down against the bed, one massive hand pinning you down as he rutted into you with abandon until, finally, he buried himself as far as humanly possible in your cunt. You had to smile into the blankets. So many men were quiet during sex, oh, but not your König. The noises he let out were delectable and you soaked them up like sunlight, as if they were necessary to your survival.

“Oh, Süßes mädchen, you are good for me,” he panted through moans, “Always so good for me. So- So tight and willing and perfect- ah!”

He collapsed over you with a groan, elbows digging into the mattress on either side of you, holding him just off from crushing you. Sweet and soft kisses rained down across your neck and shoulders, pulling quiet little mewls of contentment from your mouth until he placed a sharp bite under your ear.

“Fuck!” you groaned with a laugh, “I guess I should have expected that this time.”

A deep chuckle rumbled against your back as he replied, “I enjoy marking you, leaving little reminders that you’re mine.”

Your heart thumps hard against your chest. The need to hold him grew unbearable and you quickly wiggled beneath him, earning a groan from you both when he finally pulled out and you felt both your and his cum leak out over your skin. Once on your back, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down. You wanted to be the one getting laid on this time. His weight was a comfort, a weighted blanket if you would.

“Maus, I-”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” you replied softly, feeling deja vu from repeating the same words he used before, “Please, I- I need this.”

His eyes were swimming with all sorts of emotions but he finally relented with the smallest of nods, allowing you to pull him down to settle over you. Only the upper half of his torso was on you, his head resting against your breasts and feet hanging off the end of the bed, but it was enough. You waited until he got comfortable before running your fingers under his hood, gingerly scraping your nails against his scalp and neck.

“I don’t know how I feel about everything you said,” you admitted softly.

The way he tensed up made your chest hurt, urging you to quickly continue and soothe his nerves.

“But I’m not mad either,” you whispered, “It’s… unconventional but also insanely flattering and… romantic? I don’t think I’ve ever had someone want me that much. It kind of scares me that I’m gonna let you down, you know? You-”

“I know. I know what you’re going to say, how you think of yourself, but meine leibling, I’ve seen the good and the bad, and I love it all.”

Love. Oh, there was that powerful word again. You were torn. Logically, you knew he didn’t know you enough to love you, not real you and all your problems. How could someone so powerful, smart, kind, and beautiful as he really want something like you? You knew you weren’t the worst of the bunch, but you also knew there were many better than you too. And yet, another part of you wanted to accept it so badly that it hurt; believe that someone could truly see all your flaws and still love you.

As if he could sense your thoughts, he lifted up onto one elbow and his other hand came to cup your cheek.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged softly.

Tears clouded your vision and you tried to blink them away unsuccessfully, letting out a huff of frustration when they fell.

“What happens when you finally realize I’m not as perfect as you thought?”

Your words were broken, throat tight and burning with each syllable. It was painfully obvious you were close to breaking and you hated showing it.

“That is not possible,” he assured you kindly, thumb tracing your lower lip tenderly, “You are the most beautiful, most intelligent, and sweetest person I’ve ever met. Even if there was something I found issue with, we would work it out, schatz. Scheiße! What am I even saying? You should be running from me, not questioning if you’re worthy of being with me”

“I- I don’t-”

With a little grunt, he suddenly lifted onto his knees and cupped your face.

“Do you want proof?” he demanded, “I will give you proof, mein schatz, whatever you need.”

“Mm?”

You were still dazed from his touch when he pulled away and it took your brain far too long to realize he had taken his sniper hood off, leaving him bare-faced, and it felt like your heart stopped beating.

Other than his eyes and mouth, this was the most you’d seen. Nothing you’d ever pictured came even close to reality. Breathing suddenly became something you had to consciously think about as you reached up to touch his face in awe. He was stunning, not in a supermodel way but in a rugged way that made your fingers tremble and your body ache. His dirty blonde locks were cut in a slightly grown-out crew cut, matching the prickly blonde shadow lining his strong jaw and the thick blonde brows furrowed over those gorgeous soft blues. His nose was on the larger side and seemed as if it’d been broken one too many times, topped off with a little scar over the bridge by his eyes that you mindlessly traced. Those plump lips you’d spent so much time kissing were downturned in a serious frown, the scar above his top lip made more prominent by the motion, and it was then that you finally realized you’d been sitting and staring at him without saying a word for far too long.

Honestly, though, there didn’t seem to be any right words to say. More than him being attractive, your brain was just dumbstruck by the sheer sense of trust he was showing. The tears you’d fought so hard to banish returned with a vengeance. What had you done to deserve this, to deserve someone who wanted you this much? A little voice in the back of your head said that you hadn’t, nothing you’d done had earned someone like König and this had to be some cruel joke. But oh, the look in his eyes, it suffocated that flicker of self-hatred before it could spread.

“Oh, meine liebling, are you-”

Hearing him call you that while being allowed to see all the intricate emotions in his expression… it was too much. Grabbing him by the back of the neck, you jerked him down into a biting kiss as a sob broke forth. You had to do something to try to express your thoughts.

“König,” you whispered brokenly, “Fuck, do you even realize how beautiful you are?!”

He let out a little chuckle against your lips and murmured, “I know I’m not unattractive but I think you are overselling it a little, ja?”

“Not. One. Bit,” you breathed between kisses.

With all your strength, you managed to push him back onto the bed and climbed over his waist, pinning his arms out as you looked over him in full. You knew he could easily overpower you and move you if he wanted, but he seemed content to let you get your fill. You couldn’t get enough of seeing him, your hands absentmindedly tracing designs along his arms and pecs as you reveled in all of the coalescing emotions.

“God damn, and you really want me?” you sighed wistfully, “Are- Are you sure?”

He easily broke your hold to rest his hands on your sides, slowly stroking up and down from your ribs to your hips and back. The motion was soothing, tender.

“I know you’ve been taught to think negatively about yourself, but I promise I’ll spend the rest of eternity reminding you every day just how loveable you are, as long as you’ll let me,” he replied before a devious smirk curled up the edges of his lips, “In fact, let me start now, hmm?”

Leaning forward, you caught his lips in a soft kiss, only for a squeak to escape when he pulled your hips down against his, giving you an intimate feel of just what he had meant by his words.

He growled, forcing a cry from you when he sunk his teeth into your sore lower lip and mumbled, “You see what you do to me? One look at you and I’m lost. How can you question this when I have the physical evidence to prove it, hmm?”

Your face flushed warm at his words but you weren’t given a chance to reply before his fingers slipped down between your bodies, tearing out a shaky gasp as his fingers stroked your sensitive nub.

“I hope you’re ready, maus, because you’re not leaving my side tonight. When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

…

“So you heard it too?”

“Yeah, can you believe it? And did you see the marks on his arms?!”

“I just can’t believe someone actually fucked the colonel. I bet she ain’t walkin’ right t’day. I dunno if you’ve seen him in the showers but…”

“Fuck, I know right?! It’s not fucking fair. The anti-social beast gets hung like king fucking kong and he doesn’t even use it. Well, not before last night anyway.”

You tried oh so hard to focus on your lunch and not the explicit conversation about the sex with your Austrian lover last night, but it was hard to ignore. They weren’t exactly being subtle. If only they knew how right they were. You’d done your best to hide it and took ibuprofen to help reduce the tenderness in your muscles, but there was no denying the way your legs and pussy were aching to the high heavens from his brutal treatment. Not that you were complaining. You’d take that pain and worse any day of the week as long as it was from him.

“Oh shit, shh! He’s here!”

At that, your head jerked up instinctively. Your eyes searched the cafeteria curiously until, finally, you spotted him carrying out his lunch. A little smirk curled up your lips as spotted the many claw marks along his forearms and you had to chuckle to yourself. He just had to wear a T-shirt instead of his usual thermal, didn’t he? You were almost certain it was on purpose, as if he was peacocking that last night’s escapades. It was kind of cute and, honestly, quite arousing.

“Who do you think it was?”

“I dunno, man. It has to be one of Shadow Company because why else wouldn’t it have happened before?”

Your lips fell and you quickly turned away from him, trying to avoid being too obvious when he turned around. As much as you wanted to spend the rest of your time with KorTac being draped all over your lover, reality was a major cock block. Until you were out of Graves’ grasp, you had to be careful.

One last look found his eyes trained directly on you and your heart jumped into your throat as he walked right at you.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Y/L/N?” König asked as he stopped by your table.

It was painfully obvious how red your face was by the heat emanating from your skin. Doing your best to keep a calm demeanor, you nodded once.

“What can I help you with, sir?” you asked, cursing the way your voice shook.

“When you’re done here, meet me in my office,” he instructed, “I need to talk with you about a report you filed on one of my men last night.”

Oh. Maybe this was actually serious. You felt a little foolish for even thinking he would chance exposing your relationship like that in public.

“Of course, sir, I’ll be there as soon as possible,” you assured him.

And then his professional facade slips, the little wink he sent your way making your thighs clench, and you nearly screamed at him for getting you so flustered when he got to hide behind his hood.

“See to it that you do.”

With that, he stalked away, your eyes following him in disbelief.

“What an asshole,” you breathed out quietly, unable to stop the goofy ass smile plastered to your face.

You wasted no time demolishing the rest of your food, your mind going a million miles an hour about what you could expect once you saw him. The mental image of being forced over his desk was enough to make the remainder of your food entirely unappetizing. You had a different kind of hunger to satiate.

#könig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod smut

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lumienyx · 7 months

Text

There is no escape, no solace from this sore immortal plight, Still I stand here—cold, unchanging—in the shadow of sun’s light.

finished the sketch & wrote a little something to go with it—read the rest on AO3 or below the cut ↓

—

The Shadow of Sun's Light

Astarion looks beautiful in the sun.

Granted, he looks beautiful always. But there’s something a touch more special about that beauty now, such life and joy reflected on the planes of his face. There’s the glint in his eyes, the light playing on his skin, his hint of a smile as he stands there, under the sun’s rays—completely unharmed. He didn’t even notice the sun rise, too caught up in drinking your blood as you both waited to test the artifact you dug up from the deepest, darkest depths of that accursed plane.

Astarion must have felt the warmth, at some point past dawn. Drew away, panic flashing on his face for a split-second before he realized—

It worked.

He stands in the sun, hand in yours, remnant blood trickling from his bottom lip, an exact match for the blood of his eyes.

And he is beyond beautiful, like this. Godlike.

And you hope to the gods you get this, with him, forever. A life under the sun and all the other stars. Spent together, in love and out of harm’s way.

But that is the future, something so infinitely far from this infinite moment you’ve found yourself in. Now—you simply gaze at him transfixed, and you can’t look away.

You never want to.

Astarion basks in the rays of the sun, taking deep, unnecessary breaths—he always does so when he’s excited. When there’s no other release for the sheer amount of emotion pent up within him. He stands there and looks at you, with so much adoration and happiness in his eyes you physically feel it warm you, like a fireplace enveloping you in its heat.

“Thank you,” Astarion says—whispers, his voice low and heavy with unshed tears, “my love, thank you.”

“We did this together,” you remind him, “I’m glad I could help—”

Astarion cuts you off with a kiss, lest—gods forbid—you fail to take all the credit for the effort.

You let him, drawing him closer into a tight embrace, his closeness intoxicating. His skin is, as ever, cool and comforting against yours. He seems intent to kiss the life out of you, and you would allow it without a second thought. You melt into it, mirroring the motions of his mouth, feeling the salty tinge of your own blood as he drinks deep from you, now, in a completely different way. Empties you of all worrisome and troubling thoughts, leaving only pleasure tingling along your body.

You draw away for one of those pesky breaths you need to take, your eyes opening a fraction to see the almost melodic interplay of shadow and light on Astarion’s face. As you lean in back for more, infinitely more, you’re reminded of the engraving in the artifact, once belonging to some mythical vampire ages past.

It was a simple-looking yet intricately enchanted sunstone meant to be ingrained right into the skin to give its bearer immunity against any damage from any kind of light. The previous owner’s message was simple, melancholy and hopeful in equal measure:

There is no escape, no solace from this sore immortal plight,

Still I stand here—cold, unchanging—in the shadow of sun’s light.

—

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed it❤️

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #fanart #ficlet #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #lumi arts #lumi writes

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persnicketypansy · 10 months

Text

I’m trying to write a poem but I can’t get it to go right. I keep writing lines like

I make myself tea/tomorrow my sister/dead dog in the driveway/depression is

A cicada is trying to kill itself against the window glass of my kitchen - which isn’t a metaphor but it sure as hell sounds like one. I’m trying to write about depression and how it’s a cold room with a single warm spot on the floorboards. That’s not right, though. My poetry instructor would say i was unfocused, distracted (by the cicada, if I’m being honest) or at least probably if I’d ever had an instructor that’s what they would say.

poetry has always been about the smallest amount of words to create the biggest, brightest picture. It’s always been a way to put a feeling into words - look, it’s a river I’m pouring into your hands. Do you get it yet?

In the simplest words, the fewest lines, the rawest sketch of an image, imagine me young and sad. Now imagine me now, older and happy. Now pretend that the two images are exactly the same. Did I move forward or did everything else just move away from me? Bead on a string, is the bead moving or is the string? But how do you write that out? How do you make it something digestible?

The cicada is very loud. Bugs skeeve me out.

when I was young I thought happiness was bigger than the sky (do you get it? how big the sky was to me when I was seven years old? the sky was an ancient whale going to swallow me out of the wildflowers. what did that make happiness?)

young went away. now only I remain (I don’t know what to make of this; i shed my youth like a skin. a cicada shell, if you will, now that the thing outside in the dark has finished its fitful dying)

when young had me, I was sad. These things were not connected, except by knots I tied (i wasn’t sad because i was young; young was a well i dug to hold all the sad I already had)

but the sadness went with the child. they live together in the hollow green garden (where the birds sing, you remember the poem about lost children? child me wrote it on her arms and legs. she looked for birds to chase)

I drink tea (and somehow, even though my seven year old self will never believe it, this is happiness)

Idk tho. im still missing an important part of the puzzle. sadness leaves and there’s room for something else in your life suddenly. happiness sneaks up on you. happiness and sadness aren’t opposites (they’re yuri) not like in inside out, but like in a ‘happiness is a survival technique’ way. once you grow up you can’t be sad the same way a child is sad anymore, because you’ve got defense mechanisms in place

sometimes you miss the sadness, the way it just swallows all of you up, but then you make some tea and remember that child you would have killed to be where you are right now, and things are better. the whole (that was a dark time once) (this will be a dark time someday as well) things get better - not things get better, but things are better. child me was wrong about what I needed. what I have now is enough to get by. optimism?

is the point optimism? idk. something something, savor what fulfills you instead of trying to satisfy the ideals you came up with when you were young, because child you doesn’t know shit about a good cup of tea or a four hour conversation with a friend. you don’t owe your past self the satisfaction of all their unrealistic dreams.

child me wanted to get stolen by a bird

like. i don’t know. i’ll come back to this

#crowdsourcing like a true tumblr-assigned poet tonight #yall are welcome #shit like this is why im not a poet yall. i don't know first thing about organizing these thoughts #my friend was like 'oh #youre a poet now. write a poem about it'#not in my job description! but here i am #whatever #persnicketypoem #persnicketydraft

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tiredly101 · 1 year

Text

Chomp!

Pairing: Wally Darling x Biter!Male Reader

Illustrated Au, this post was adopted from another account because they are deleting it soo I adopted it with permission of the original author, I did make some changes to adapt it to my writing style! Stablish relationship with Wally and lastly picture was a very closed screenshot but it was made by @clownsuu!

It was well known around the village a certain neighbour could be seen chewing and biting all sorts of things. Of course chewing and biting was pretty normal when eating, it was pretty out of the ordinary when the villagers started to notice bite marks on random objects.

At first they thought a animal of some sort had come in looking for a late night snack but the bite marks didn’t match with any sort of animal. It was only until while Eddie Dear was delivering some mail he noticed M/n gnawing on his pencil while he sat in front of his house sketching.

Usually this wouldn’t have caught his attention as it wasn’t that strange of a thing but they way M/n dug his teeth into it, as if to completely crush it, he started to suspect it had been M/n that left the bite mark on the plastic end of one of Franks bug nets. As Eddie was just stood watching you, it caught Wallys curiosity.

"Hello Eddie, what are you looking at?," Asked Wally while looking with curiosity at Eddie then following his line of sight to M/n which made his smile grow just a tad bigger.

“Oh, hi Wally. Say, is it me or is the way M/n is biting their pencil is a bit aggressive? If you know what I mean," Wally, now that Eddie mentioned it, did thought M/n were really going at it, perhaps the pencil broke while he was sketching. Sometimes that happens to himself so he understands M/n's frustration. Waving goodbye to Eddie when he went on his way to finish delivering mail Wally decided to head over to M/n and see what got him so agitated.

"Hello neighbour, you know if i didnt know any better that pencil seems to be your sworn enemy," Wally jested which made M/n snap up his attention to him.

“Huh..?,” M/n replied confused, having no clue of what Wally meant until he noticed how damaged the end of your pencil had become.

“Ah! Oh no! I didn’t even realise I was chewing it... It’s such a bad habit I can’t seem to stop,” M/n said while sighting softly. Wally chuckled, what was so bad about it? M/n eas doing no harm, well besides to the pencil. He sat down beside you taking the pencil out of your hand and looking at the ravaged end trying to hold back a laugh.

"You know perhaps you should try something softer, you could damage your teeth. I understand the constant need to chew on something so don’t be ashamed,” Wally reassured M/n softly, slowly grabbing his hand and interlocking his fingers with M/n's.

"You chew things too?," Asked M/n hopefully while looking at Wally which made him smile and chuckle before giving a little peck on M/n's cheek.

“Oh, no. I eat with my eyes silly," Wally said which made M/n smile, how could he forget such an important detail of his boyfriend?

“Here”, said Wally before he held out his arm out in front of M/n's face waiting for his reaction. M/n seemed so puzzled at first not knowing what he was offering until he realised he basically just gifted himself to you as a personal chew toy. Perhaps Barnaby does the same so he’s use to it? But it became more and more embarrassing as he just stared at M/n waiting for him to take a bite.

Eventually M/n started gnawing on his arm a little while he focused in drawing again and soon M/n completely forgot he were even doing it until once he finished the drawing and he went to show Wally and found his arm muffling what he was going to say.

It was pretty embarrassing but he seemed fine with it, he was grinning for ear to ear and had a look of adoration in his eyes. If practically chewing his arm off wasn’t embarrassing enough the way he just gazed and admired M/n had his face warming in a instant.

As this went on M/n found himself more often than not randomly nibbling on Wally at a random point of the day. Sometimes when trying to figure something out or even when a conversation was going on for to long and M/n needed to occupy himself with something to stay focused but each and every time, M/n's boyfriend, Wally seemed bubbly with joy.

The rest of the villagers were happy with this as well since they have stopped finding bite marks in their possessions. It wasn’t long before Wally himself started nibbling M/n at random points, seemingly just blinking at him and then suddenly M/n felt something on his arm or shoulder. M/n was flustered at the beginning but he soon got used to Wally's playful nibbles but never got used to Barnaby jokingly giving you both chew toys on rare occasions.

The funny thing is that when M/n and Wally were alone sometimes you both would actually use the chew toys. Wally's favourite was the fake apple chew toy and M/n's was the soft yellow lemon.

"We are such a cute couple"

#welcome home #wally darling x male reader #wally darling x reader #Tiredly Jackie writes #Tiredly Jackie adopt

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idontknowreallywhy · 1 month

Text

Resurface 17 - Redraw

Previous bits

Writing art is not my forte but Virg doesn’t have access to a piano right now so he insisted. I hereby blame any clumsy wording / inaccuracies on this being Scott’s POV so… yeah it’s the flyboy’s fault.

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It had been a little over 48 hours since Scott had last been in the same room as Virgil. While at one end of the feed a brother was happily chatting away to his invisible-to-everyone-else best friend, the unseen brother at the other huddled on the couch, curled protectively around his tablet lifeline and was politely rebuffing anyone who hovered with offers of irrelevancies like sustenance and reassurance. And company.

He felt bad about that. He had a nasty suspicion John was berating himself for revealing those details about the past and at some point very soon Scott was going to need to fix it. But it wasn’t now. The rest of them needed to concentrate on Virgil anyway.

Speaking of which…

Virgil had got fidgety and was stretching his arms behind his head in an achingly familiar way. Gordon, who was on duty again, was heavy-napping on one of the other beds and didn’t stir. The squid had taken the brunt of his brother’s care upon himself and he needed the sleep and so this was fine. Kayo and John were distracting Alan. Scott was keeping watch and could raise the alarm if the patient got out of bed. He didn’t though, merely shuffled his pillows around a while before appearing to notice the sketch pad and new set of pencils that had been left on his bedside table at his big brother’s insistence. Scott felt a little rush of justification as Virgil seized the pad and opened it to a fresh page, tapping his chin thoughtfully with the end of a pencil.

Scott watched as his brother began to sketch some light sweeping strokes across the page. The tension in Virgil’s expression melted away and Scott felt a little of himself beginning to thaw too.

After a few minutes, the artist laid the pad down beside him while he reached over to to select a different grade of pencil from the tin. Even upside down Scott recognised the sketch as the beginnings of one of Virgil’s many sky backgrounds - rays of sun peaking through soft clouds, the hint of a light wind mysteriously depicted through graphite on white. So many things could emerge next - a cityscape, a portrait, a whale leaping from the ocean… It could be an abstract of a solar eclipse or a detailed study of one of their ships. Perhaps a flock of birds over a silhouetted volcanic island. Whatever his eventual intention, Virgil so often began with the sky and everything else followed.

He picked the sketchbook up again and proceeded to add something smaller and more detailed. Scott entertained a hope that it might end up being Two and One flying home side by side - had three of those displayed in his suite - one watercolour, one acrylic, one mixed media collage and he was more than happy to add a pencil version too if Virgil allowed it. The eyebrows of intense concentration had been deployed and Scott had begun to smile at the familiarity of this when the merely concentrating look hardened into something else.

Virgil started to add much heavier lines, the knuckles of his right hand white as he held the book steady and the left almost a blur as he dug the pencil in hard and dragged it rapidly to and fro across the page. Scott wondered how the paper could possibly withstand such a ferocious onslaught of carbon - he half expected it to catch fire if his brother didn’t gouge a hole straight through it first.

Scott watched in helpless dismay as his the look of distress on his brother’s face deepened and was on the point of calling Gordon to wake him when Virgil seemed to run out of steam and slumped back into the pillows, sketchpad clutched to his chest. He closed his eyes and took a couple of breaths before propping himself up again and gazing at what he had drawn. He didn’t move at all for several minutes. Scott unconsciously leaned sideways as if he could change the angle of the security camera to see what it was then swore to himself. This was wrong. He should just be able to go and ask… he always asked and Virg always showed him… maybe somewhat shyly but he’d always show him. He didn’t dare defy Grandma, not when he was so clueless about all of this, but his gut told him she was wrong - Scott should be there by Virgil’s side.

This was wrong. She was wrong.

He had to try again.

He stood and started towards the stairs to go and reason with her when another movement from the screen caught his attention. Without removing his eyes from the sketch pad, Virgil leaned over to the bedside table and patted around until his fingers closed over a large eraser. He spun it in his fingers for a few moments then appeared to remove something then added some small detail, his expression intense but unreadable, even to the brother who knew him best.

Some small noise must have alerted Gordon who suddenly flung himself on to the bed and enveloped Virgil in a hug.

The sketchpad slipped to the floor and Scott slowly sat back down again.

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #resurface fic

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eruden-writes · 11 months

Text

Scent Match - Part 9 (Augustine & Amber)

lycan x human celebrity x non-celebrity

Summary: When Amber Dyer decided to attend a Creator Con, she never expected to run into Of Wolf and Blood lycan heartthrob, Augustine Prime.

But, there he was, stooping over her table, asking to buy the unflattering drawing of his character. Valuing integrity over taking money from a celebrity and running (though she was sorely tempted,) Amber finishes the sketch and delivers it to Augustine.

However, he continues to doggedly pursue her and entwine their lives.

All because of her scent.

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Given Augustine’s consent, Amber hummed and closed her eyes to focus on her task. For a time, she focused on him. It was easier to focus on pleasuring him than to combat the simmering embarrassment at the edges of her thoughts. As her mouth worked up and down his length, her fingers toyed with his knot with light touches. The heat emanating from him, the graze of his fur against her, the way his breath caught when her tongue traversed over a particularly good spot.

Yeah, this was simpler than her own deep-brewing emotions. It also distracted her from the memories with prior partners, their mean laughter or-

Amber shoved the recollections from her head. No. She was focusing on this, focusing on Augustine. All other thoughts dissipated as her focus zeroed in on him.

Unaware of the emotional minutiae plaguing Amber’s thoughts, Augustine relished in the circumstance. The hot, soft feel of her paired with her steady pace agonized and thrilled him. He wanted more. His fingers flexed briefly, tempted to grab her by the head, but he dug his claws into the sheets. Keeping his hips from bucking into her warm mouth was harder, but he managed.

The last thing he wanted to do was risk startling her or scaring her off. He didn’t want to see her disappointed or affronted expression if he reciprocated. This was entirely about her getting comfortable with him.

Besides, Amber’s mouth and hands were plenty enough to focus on without him touching her.

But, gods, he wanted to touch her.

Augustine bit down on the desire, sinking back onto the bed to just feel Amber’s mouth work or her hands caress him. Warmth and wetness and the little, absentminded sounds she made while on his cock razed through him.

She hadn’t taken him fully into her mouth again. While her head bobbed, one of her hands stroked his neglected length as her other hand stroked his knot. As soon as her pace increased, as soon as she took a little more of him with every pass, heat tightened in his center. In small ways, Augustine tried to shift for fuller friction, more sensation, as he pressed his head back and panted, deep rumbles echoing in his chest.

It was only after a particular squeeze of her hand and a dip of her head that Augustine realized the pressure building in him was cresting. A sudden throb through his cock, drawing a grunt from him, made him all the more aware of his oncoming orgasm. “A-Amber, I’m gonna come if you don’t st– Fuck.”

Augustine jerked forward, off the bed, as she took him fully in her mouth again, both hands squeezing at his knot. He curled over Amber’s head with his hands crooked and twitching. He just barely kept from grabbing her, from pushing her further down as his hips finished her job. His chest heaved as she stared at her, lips pressed to his knot and expression one of calm.

“Mhm?” She hummed, staring up at Augustine innocently as her fingers alternated in squeezing touches.

Amber couldn’t hide the slight curl of her lips as Augustine stared down at her. He looked quite the sight. Fur mussed and golden eyes wide, ears pricked forward. The movement of his hands hadn’t been missed, either. He was close to just grabbing her, but was holding back. Part of her appreciated that.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop,” he explained, tone tinged with desperation and concern. Augustine could feel Amber’s amusement as her smile twitched around him. He had to swallow down his nerves before he managed to press further, “Are you okay with that?”

She gave a positive hum, but when his concern didn’t soften, she gave him a nod. Well, as good of a nod as she could give with her mouth being full of him.

Still, Augustine didn’t jump on her consent. He wasn’t sure how well his restraint would hold out and, given the moment’s pause, he had to ask, “Can I thrust and touch you?”

Amber lazily bobbed her head up and down his cock, feeling how his member twitched against her tongue as she thought. On the second pass, she pulled off him, swiping the back of her palm against her mouth to wipe away any stray spittle. “Don’t choke me or force me down, alright?”

A bright expression lit up his face as he nodded excitedly. His reaction made something in Amber twist, delighted and a little uncertain. Augustine’s hand landing softly on her head dissipated any potential concerns. At his gentle guidance, Amber neared his dick again, taking him in her mouth in a languid fashion.

With one hand braced on the bed, the other holding the back of her head, Augustine half-stood from the bed. The return of her hot, moist mouth ignited heat down his spine. He thanked his stars for the foresight in asking for more control. If he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure how well he would have held out.

His pace began slowly, feeling Amber’s reactions out until he dared to pump his hips faster, a little harder. Augustine was still cognizant of her reactions, her body language. He adjusted his pace, the power of his thrusts, based on Amber’s sounds and the way she tensed or relaxed. Soon, he found a satisfactory pace, though with every whimper or gasp from her, he had to fight the urge to bare down harder.

Not in charge of the pace any longer, Amber closed her eyes and let her hands drift up and down his tense thighs, feeling the muscles strain beneath his fur. Despite not being in full charge, she still rocked on her knees to meet his thrusts, pushing him further down her throat that he would have otherwise gone.

He was being careful, she knew. Complicated feelings swirled inside her, though mostly carnal heat pounded at her center. She forced those complicated feelings further from thought by focusing on the situation. The way Augustine’s hips jerked, his fur dragging across her cheeks, his claws curving a little further against her scalp as his hips moved, his breaths escaping as panting half-groans.

As his pace increased, Amber rocked faster and harder against him. His pulse throbbed against her tongue, cock twitching with every thrust. Led by instinct, her hands drifted back to his knot and squeezed tight with his every thrust. By the third squeeze, his cock bounced wildly just before thick heat exploded in her mouth. Augustine snarled - the sound scraping deliciously down Amber’s spine - and jerked forward, curling over her.

His body wracked with trembles, Amber once again took over. Pulling back enough so she could milk his length, she swallowed down mouthfuls of his slight salty-sweetness while Augustine continued to groan and twitch.

Only when she was sure he was done did Amber lean back, again wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as she stared up at him. He wasn’t entirely terrible to get naughty with, she decided. Of course, a blowjob didn’t say much, but at least she enjoyed his taste, his sounds, the way he tensed and moved.

Above all else, Augustine had been attentive and accommodating.

Her stare hadn’t been lost on Augustine. As much as he relished in her attention, he couldn’t help but feel there had to be more. Maybe she expected more. He waited for her to say something, sensing the pensive nature of her thoughts, before he decided to break the silence. “Do you want me to return the favor?”

“What do you mean?” Amber cocked her head to the side, his question interrupting her own thoughts on their encounter.

“I could eat you out.” His orgasm must have burned his own caution to a crisp, Augustine realized as Amber’s eyes widened. He couldn’t tear his intent gaze from Amber as his nose twitched. Sweet lust still stained the air, tugging at his instincts. “I know you’re wet and aroused. I can smell it on you.”

Amber’s eyes dropped to his maw. A thrill sliced down her spine as Augustine licked his chops, flashing one of those wolfish smiles at her. Unable to meet his gaze with the flush burning her cheeks, she focused on a patch of Augustine’s thigh.

Just when he thought she was going to reject his offer, Amber mumbled, “Yeah, sure.”

In no time, Augustine had her tossed to the bed, back to the mattress. He’d managed to haul her up farther on the bed so he could kneel between her legs. The sensation of his warm hands, rough pads grazing her thighs, made Amber yelp and half-raise up on her elbows.

His actions froze, gold eyes darting to her. Amber’s heart skipped in her chest, feeling equal parts shameful and disconcerted. “I-I don’t want to get fully naked.”

A gentle smile crossed Augustine’s lips as he tilted his head to the side a little. “I have to take your panties off at least.”

Under his soft look, Amber clamped her mouth shut as heat burned hotly across her cheeks. He was going to find out. She was commando under her dress and sopping wet with excitement. Amber couldn’t bring herself to tell him verbally, though.

Augustine soon found the reason for her sudden silence. As his hands edged further up, nudging the hem of her dress higher and higher, there was no further fabric separating him from Amber. He stared down at her bared pussy, eyes roving as his nose twitched. Between the sight and her unhindered heady scent, his mouth watered obscenely. She must have felt his hungry eyes on her naked form, since she fell back and covered her face with her arms. Her self-conscious little whine only stoked lurid feelings within Augustine.

He wanted her to know how wonderful, how beautiful she was to him.

Amber swallowed a whimper as she sensed his mouth close in on her, feeling his breaths puff along her naked flesh. Anticipation and arousal coiled through her nerves, refusing any self-conscious inclination to pull away. The sensation of his tongue - hot and broad and wet - tentatively tracing her slit made Amber’s whole body jerk. Delight blossomed out along her nerves, replacing uncertainty with need.

Her reaction stoked excitement in Augustine as her scent, fuller and heady between her thighs, dizzied him. Or maybe it was her taste on his tongue, so sweet it pulled a moan from him. Before he had even let his mouth touch her, she was wet and glistening and so, so beautiful. He needed to hear more, feel her tense and shudder, come undone under his mouth. Moving faster, more intent, his tongue swirled around Amber's clit, feeling her curve off the bed with a keening whimper.

It was embarrassing to Amber how quickly she devolved into a trembling mess under his eager licking. She wasn't even sure when she lifted her hips to meet his hot wet maw or when her hand had migrated to the back of his head, fingers buried in his fur. Her other hand fisted into the sheets, bunching fabric under crooked digits. A creeping sense of heat crawled over Amber's body as her open-mouthed gasps tangled with her moans.

Augustine's growl and the way he bore down harder, his tongue delving into her and curving to nudge against her little erogenous spot, made a thrill twang through Amber. Even the graze of his teeth made her nerves burn with excitement. She wanted more, wanted to really feel everything Augustine had to offer, take it all.

Again her body jerked, her knees rising to squeeze against Augustine's head.

She wasn’t sure how long his eager lapping went on, how long she was a writhing and moaning mess under his tongue. Pleasure seared through her body and rebounded to simmer through her as a fresh wave crashed over her. Maddening and delirious. The carnal joy almost hurt as her body tightly clenched and tensed, twisting under preparation.

When the pressure crested and slammed through her, Amber lurched forward. “Augustine!”

Her thighs clamped tight to the sides of his face, pressing him closer to her center. Not that he needed goading. Her cry coupled with her orgasm sent a possessive pulse through him and he continued to tongue her.

Amber’s head lolled back, breathy moans escaping her even as Augustine happily licked up her taste. A few languorous moments passed as he licked her clean, before he finally pulled away.

A delightful singe crept over her body even as he pulled away. The shift of his fur against her bare thighs tickled, making her arch and sigh. Then Augustine’s words crashed through her afterglow, “Made you scream my name.”

Amber’s eyes snapped open, renewed heat staining her cheeks as her head jerked to glare at him. “You–!”

She was about ready to push him away, thinking this had all gone according to some convoluted plan of his, before Augustine’s soft chuckle stopped her. “I prefer this to what I meant earlier.”

Unable to ignore her curiosity, Amber narrowed her eyes. “What did you mean earlier?”

His face fell, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling as a dour expression creased his features. Heaving a heavy sigh, he mimicked the put-out bemoan he’d heard many a-time before, “Augustine.”

Oh, that’s what he meant. Easing from her paranoia, she combed her fingers through his fur. There was a thread of pain beneath Augustine’s reenactment, something Amber didn’t quite know how to address.

“Well, you are exasperating,” she mused, teasing as gently as her touches felt.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed as he closed his eyes, resigned to the thought. Between Amber’s touch and the cushion of her thigh, Augustine could have happily fallen asleep. Well, he could if his turgid erection wasn’t digging into the bed.

“I mean, you’ve asked me to marry you barely knowing me,” Amber went on, rolling her eyes. Part of her still needled for that more realistic outcome. Something where he’d laugh and pull away, say it was all a joke. On the other hand, part of her sympathized with the more sensible people in Augustine’s life. “I can’t imagine your manager or anyone else on your team is thrilled with that.”

Augustine’s head shifted as his eyes opened. “Speaking of that, do you think we’re compatible?”

“Stop that,” Amber hissed, fighting down the burst of adrenaline his glowing gold eyes and wolfish smile had on her heart. She also had to fight off a shameful delight as his arms slid under her thighs and his hands absentmindedly stroked her.

“I’m not doing anything,” he protested, his canine maw somehow curling into a pout as his eyes widened innocently.

Warmth clawed hotly over her cheeks as she glared down at him. “You were grinning at me.”

Her reaction only broke his pout apart into a broad grin. “So?”

“You’re embarrassing me.” Unable to get him to stop looking at her, Amber pressed her hands to her face to gain some reprieve. It only served to remind her how warm her blush burned.

"That's something you'll have to get used to,” Augustine laughed, pushing himself to his hands and knees before leaning over her. Instinct burned at his core to touch Amber more, to get closer, to get as close as he could. He knew he couldn’t exactly do what his instincts wanted, but that didn’t keep Augustine from wanting more contact. A hug, a cuddle, a touch. He’d take what he could get if Amber offered it.

He hadn’t realized just how close the move would place them or that his raging boner would brush against Amber’s still cocked leg until she jolted. Regardless of his momentary lapse in judgment, he poised his features into innocence as she stared up at him. She hadn’t jerked her leg away, so that had to be a good sign. Right?

Amber’s knee angled toward Augustine’s erection, the heat and firmness a beacon against her skin. Incredulity mingled with amusement as she laughed, “Are you hard again?”

“Yeah.” His head dipped and his ears drooped in a half-apologetic movement, before his eyes locked to hers. Even his ears rebounded, pricking forward with intent. “Want to do more?”

Amber knew he meant fucking, but a different kind of heat blossomed in the scant air between them. Her eyes flickered to his, trailed over his snout-esque features. How would it feel to kiss a lycan, she wondered? How could they match up a flat human mouth to that somewhat elongated maw?

Those curious thoughts crept through her head and, before she knew it, she was moving. One leg raised, hooking around his hip and drawing him closer.

Augustine held his breath, following Amber’s lead as he lowered himself slowly at her beckoning. Her other leg eased between his, knee propped up to rub her thigh against his hard-on. Involuntarily, his hips thrust into the friction, a deep moan vibrating through his chest.

It was her hands reaching up, softly grasping onto the sides of his head, that surprised Augustine. His eyes widened, ears pricking forward as Amber guided his face closer to hers. It was when her eyes fluttered shut, her lips puckered, his own heart stalled in his chest.

A flare of uncharacteristic self-consciousness made Augustine feel large and bumbling, even as he eagerly leaned in, his own eyes closing and lips parting for a sloppy - awkward - kiss.

Contact never game as a jarring sound blared through the air. Augustine’s eyes widened as he jerked from Amber’s grip, head swiveling to the source of the sound. It was a ringtone he had been taught to never ignore. “Shit, I need to take that."

He bounded from the bed, from Amber, before she registered the change in atmosphere. She blinked after him, watching as his tail disappeared through the bedroom door.

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hauntedjohnny · 4 months

Text

STAR-CROSSED

ana flores / leland mckinney

wc: 1.5k synopsis: admist the trip to find maria, leland wakes in the night to find ana gazing at the stars

A gentle breeze coaxed Leland from his slumber, eyebrows knitting together as he sheltered himself from the intruder. His nose twitched at the relentless nipping as if he were a rabbit gathering intel. Something was amiss. Sleep became a distant memory as he sat up with a light groan. The sense of dread ached in his chest. With a click of his neck, Leland tried to find the source of his discomfort. A slither of blue light guided his eyes to the discarded quilt blanket laying next to Sonny's snoring form.

Five days had passed since everyone left Austin— nothing but a van, a tent, and a blaze of hope to accompany them. Sleep didn't come easy. Days of pleading with strangers, days of pitiful smiles, days of dead ends. It lingered in the air, a poison slowly suffocating everyone as they put on their masks to face the day. It was harder to hide at night. Everyone felt it but it remained unspoken.

Bracing himself with his blanket, he followed the breadcrumbs of light into the open. The air was a contrast to the day's struggle; it was invigorating and clear. Leland tried to rid himself of his paranoia— she's probably gone to find Jules. It wasn't uncommon for her to stick with Julie these days, her soul sought the comfort of an older sister. Gravel and dirt dug into the soles of his feet as he inched towards the tent pitched next to the van. The moon watched him hesitate as the crunches got louder; the small chance he'd wake them or see something he shouldn't gnawed the front of his mind. But, before he could get ahead of himself, he shook his head as if his mind were an etch-a-sketch erasing the doubts he doodled. He'd rather have the girls laugh at his concern than have another one go missing. His layer of protection slipped from his shoulders as he fiddled with the tent's zip. Before he could open it, a sniffle echoed through the field behind him.

It wasn't hard for Leland to find Ana. There was a glow around her, as if she were the moon against a vast sky and he were a burly telescope gravitating towards her light. His hand found its way to the back of his neck as he assessed the situation. They first met in the early autumn; Leland admits he was an ass, he got intimidated by the girl and spouted some cocky childish bullshit that would've made all his high-school buddies laugh. A shiver of shame ran down his spine as he thought about who he used to be. College changed him. His friends changed him. He's been trying to make it up to her ever since but Ana is stubborn, says she won't let herself fall for his so called 'tricks'. After a lot of dramatic pouting, Maria told him she just has a hard time opening up to new people, choosing to skip over her theory about Ana having an unwanted crush on the guy.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Her voice was raw— stringy tendons trying to keep her together when it was clear grief was eating her alive. If she thought a snappy comment would send him back to the van, she would be sorely mistaken.

“Just needed to know if you were safe,” He offered, not wanting to upset her further.

Ana's hunched form froze as her arms grew tighter around her knees, her lips pulling into a tight line to prevent the tightness in her chest from bursting. Leland could see her walls crumbling, the last brick kicked over by his words. With a shaky sigh, her back hit the scratchy grass. Stars sparked behind her eyes as her palms ushered away any potential tears.

“I know.” The words were clear amongst the silence, despite getting stuck in her throat.

Vulnerability hovered around her for a moment before melting into the ground. Leland took its place beside her, soaking it up so she wouldn't have to drown in it. Not a word was uttered between them as they stared at the expanse above them— winking glows from a billion years ago staring straight back at them. Time began to blur, the grass imprints on Leland's bare back itched at him to move. The silence was thick, not uncomfortable, but constrained as if it were a dam about to break, waiting for the words to flow.

“What do you think happens when we die?”

A whisper so soft it barely broke the silence. Leland turned to face her, taking in the words he wasn't certain he heard. Ana's face gave off a stale glow— glistening eyes telling her secrets, glistening cheeks reflecting her sorrows. Like curtains blocking out light, her eyes fluttered closed in protection. He knew what she was thinking; he felt it deep in his soul.

“Hey," He needed her to look at him, "We're gonna find her." He needed her to know he believed his words. A calloused palm lay halfway between them, an unspoken lifeline he wishes she'd take.

A beat passed, allowing her to breathe in his belief. She held it in her lungs, allowing it to consume her before expelling it with a sigh.

“Just humour me, McKinney.”

With a sigh of his own, he turned back to the stars as if they held the answer.

“I dunno,” he mumbled with a shrug, “never been a believer of much…”

Now free from his burning stare, Ana's eyes gravitated towards the boy beside her. Despite the purple craters under his eyes, an immense light radiated from his pale skin. Some days it was too bright, it hurt her to stare, but here, doused in the moon's coolness, it was entrancing. Leland mulled over the question in his head, a soft pout on his lips as he remembers a conversation he'd had months ago— a ramble from Sonny about how everything in the universe is made of the same matter, almost like reincarnation.

“Stardust.” He whispered to himself.

A confused hum fell from her lips as she was pulled from her trance, prompting him to speak up.

“Sonny says we’re all made of stardust or something, apparently." His tongue swept wet his lips as he cleared the nervousness out of his throat. "Only makes sense that we turn home one day..." his eyes flickered towards her for a second, "to watch over the ones we love.”

The sky felt brighter as she turned back to face it. The glow of a billion stories lighting the surrounding darkness, constellations witnessing this moment, the same millennia ago. Ana's sorrows dissolved into the night, joining the graveyard above. For a moment, she felt less alone. For a moment, she understood. All the burning prayers, the burning wonders, the burning meaning, the burning love that guided her through the darkness. Love is all we have— the devoted constant in life. Everything Ana does is for love, because everything Maria does is for love. Her hand found its way to Leland's, the soft grip making their pulses harmonise as the stars thrummed in tandem. She let the tranquility wash over her, reuniting with a peace she hadn't seen in a while. A memory of Maria whispered through the breeze as she found the hidden beauty of the stars. This is us, Ana.

"That's beautiful, Lee."

For the first time that night, she meets his eye. It was as if she saw him for the first time. There was a burning star inside his chest, eating away at the shadows, guiding her in this moment. It twinkled in his eyes and it tingled in his fingertips. Leland's soul tickled Ana's skin, a fine dust seeping into her bones, merging with her own. The privacy of her soul was invaded as every mote of dust blazed hotter than it would alone. Together, just as there is no one isolated star in the vast firmament, there was a unified hope inside them all. Together, they were two souls connecting under the glow of those past, unaware they too would soon join the graveyard.

Noticing the goosebumps that pepper her skin, Leland decides it's time to call it a night. Hands still connected, he pulls Ana up and out of her daze. Before he can guide her back, she pulls him flush against her, the warmth of his embrace giving life to her once stale glow.

"Thank you." She speaks to his chest, allowing the uttered asteroid to pierce straight into his heart.

Lips pressed against her hair in reply, as beams of peaceful tenderness radiated from their fused form. Tomorrow would be a better day as long as they were together; they needed eachother more than they knew. Ana pulled away, the twinkle in Leland's eye now reflected in her own. They were blissfully unaware that this newfound hope would be a solace on the darkest night of their lives. The story was already written: two doomed stars crashing in the night, hounded by fate as they part ways at dawn.

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