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screampied · 4 months

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squirting for the first time with jjk men?? 😫

❛ SLIPPERY WHEN WET! ❜

sukuna, toji, getō, gojo, namami, choso. jjk men and their reaction to making you squirt for the first time

total wc. 3.6k

warnings. fem!reader, degradation, squirting, overstim, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, p*ssydrunk men, dumbification, pussyspanking, toy usage, edging. MDNI

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

“hm? ain’t no guy ever make ya squirt before?” he grunts. and you’re just absentmindedly being stuffed, both of your wrists gripped back with toji holding onto them, his strokes were mean and demanding. your head continued to thump and bounce against the soft silk pillow that rested underneath your head. all you could make out was a sweet pathetic ‘nuh-uh’ and toji raises his thin eyebrows in amusement. “no baby…? not even once?”

“no- don’t think i can, i tried myself but…”

he snickers. “silly girl. trust me, you can squirt,” you bit your lip, eyes nearly rolling back from his jagged thrusts, its so good you nearly feel drool start to run down the corners of your mouth, how embarrassing it was—yet you remained stupid from his dick, feeling the warmth of your pussy clench tight against him. “want me to test it out?”

“yeah,” you whine, your voice was a mere soft mewl, an almost mumble practically, and toji gifts your ass with a spank, eliciting a moan from your mouth. he grows cocky the minute a huh? leaves his mouth. so you correct yourself with a “y-yes.”

“….‘yeah’ what girl,” he groans, skimming his dark green eyes down to see how your body jerks underneath him. his weight lightly hovers against you, and he’s still got a firm grip with your wrists, having you pitifully tongue-tied. “taught you how to speak to me. so let’s try that again.”

arrogant bastard, what your thoughts originally said—making you purposely repeat yourself, but his cock always always made up for it.

“please,” you choke out, moaning from the way he deepens his thrusts just a tad bit, your mouth starts to water from the way your pussy twitches in content. “make me squirt toji. please. i wanna be messy for you.”

“aw that’s my girl,” he purrs, releasing his grip from your wrists, yet it remains still against your bare back, his thrusts snap against you to where a cute gasp leaves your lips. “but oh, you’ve been messy though, but there’s nothing wrong with that, princess,” he teases, such mockery escaping from his tone. “relax for me, yeah? you’ll feel it when it comes.”

“okay,” you moaned, your left cheek pressed up against the white sheets of the mattress. it was cute, your face being up against the bed as you’re being absolutely stuffed and pounded. you felt yourself tightening from the inside—a coil desperately awaiting to be snapped, a feeling you never knew you could feel, and you probably looked so dumb. “okay okay o-okay.”

you cutely kept sputtering, repeating and bracing yourself. toji brings a rough hand towards the back of your neck as he’s ramming his fat length from behind you, such thrusts has your body spasming and crying out for more, it feels like a orgasm being snatched away from you.

“give it to me, girl.” he grunts, giving your ass another mean spank. the immense build up. your legs judder continuously to where your mind goes blank like an empty canvas, empty..

“a-ah t-toji—!” you squeaked, and he’s so ruthless whenever it came to you, each time you try to sit up to turn around he shoved your head lightly back down, it’s so cute. “fuck, fuck. f-fuck, ‘s about to-” and a gasp interrupts your words the minute you squirt all down his shaft to his base, your sweet juices sheath and sheath all the way down and it’s so warm and hot.

the minute you end up squirting, your legs felt so weak, it just quavered and shook. “oh my g-god,” you sobbed, and he slows his sloppy thrusts against your cunt down—leaning up close to you, direct and personal. “there we go mama, my messy fuckin’ squirter,” he whispers, he’s pressed against your ass and wraps a few fingers around your neck. planting a kiss underneath your chin he murmurs. “you made such a mess. how’s it feel?”

“good. but feels w-wet toji.”

“eheh, well yeah girl, that’s kinda the point.” he snickers, playfully sinking his teeth into your neck, giving it a teasing nibble.

SUKUNA ☆ RYŌMEN

“hm? make you squirt huh? so greedy.. my fingering isn’t enough for you?” sukuna teases and you’re laid flat on your back with your legs lazily lifted up, more like he’s holding them up for you.

you moaned, feeling him slide a single digit in and out. he sneaks a wet kiss against your thigh before leaning in to press his lips against your pussy, tasting how sweet you were. “...kuna ‘m not greedy, just wanna see what it feels like, please..”

“you are greedy,” he grunts, giving your cunt a swift spank to make your legs twitch, “but sure thing.” he mutters, warm minty breath going against your clit. your head goes back and your mouth slightly opens and parts from the way he’s fingering you and eating you out. his lips latch and lock against your folds to make your eyes roll back. he was so filthy with his tongue let alone his fingers.

you sucked your teeth—feeling his two fingers push deep in and out, going past against that spot each time, instead of your eyes rolling you were practically crossed eyed.

“f-fuck, fuck, ‘s good ‘kuna...”

“i know. you keep saying that, dumb girl. quit talkin’ and start squirting.” and you lose count of how many mean slaps he gives your pussy. he’s so mean, yet found every few seconds to praise you and let you know how good you’re doing.

“h-hurry up and make me then.”

“little girl, watch it.” he grunts, gifting you a glare, his eyes pierce against yours before he sits up, spitting right on your pussy with a rough spat, he runs a single middle finger down your slit to snatch the tiny brat left in you. you meet eye contact and your slick was very much glistening his chin, being soaked with your sweetness.

your legs were so close, just the epitome of the word jittery with how it just shook, never once staying still. the stimulation he created with his tongue let alone his fingers, it had your mind boggled. “think ‘m getting close, f-fuck.”

“uh huh. fuckin’ bet you are.” he whistles in response—grabbing ahold of his dick and you let off a cute gasp at the way he swipes his throbbing leaky pre-swollen tip against your wetness. “look at that, princess.

so eager to jus’ swallow me up.” and he slowly makes his way inside your cunt, immediately your walls hug him as a response and you’re just at the very limit. “come on, let go for me. you dont gotta be shy around me, neither does this wet pussy.”

the minute you squirt…it’s embarrassing, sukuna only smacks about five deep thrusts against your cunt and you’re already making a mess all over his base. “s-so good.” you’d cry out, and he’s staring at you.

a grunt departs his lips before he leans in to kiss you, pulling out only to ghost his fingers against your clit.

“you’re such a nasty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, you moan—tasting your own slick that ran down his chin, the sharp edges of his teeth playfully nibbling down on your lip. his body heat against yours made you feel tingly and even more in such heat. “tell me you’re my nasty girl, baby.”

“i-i’m a nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you moaned.

he gives you a dead stare—and you whine once he slips two fingers inside your throbbing pussy.

“i’m your nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you rephrased, and a cocky grin forms on his lips.

“what a good obident girl. think i like you.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“you sure sweetheart?” he asks in a soft mumble, he has a wand in hand. the ringing of the toy rings against your ears as your legs were sprawled apart for him. “you want me to make you…squirt?”

“yes p-please, kento.” you nod, the cuteness bestowed upon your lips was beyond words to describe. the way your lip quivered, it was barely up a few notches yet you throbbed and throbbed. despite it only being a good ten minutes. you’re just a whimpering mess.

eager to touch yourself, you reach down to play with your pussy before he grabs it, kissing the back of your hand.

he chuckles. “oh baby…baby, gotta keep those hands to yourself if you want me to make you messy. okay? no touching.”

“s-sorry kento.”

“aw, don’t be sorry. squirt, princess.” he teases, a hum underneath his tone he was so gentle with you, with his touch yet your legs felt like they were pretty much about to give out.

the stimulation made your teeth nearly chatter, toes clench and your back nearly arching. he finds you to be so pretty like this. flat on your chest, drool running down your mouth against the pillow with your mind empty.

you hold in a moan, teeth lightly piercing down on your lip to help silence yourself from the immense pleasure, the overstim from just releasing had your chin just hovering over your arm.

“o-one more level kento.”

“more? it’s gonna be on four, dunno if my cute whiney princess can handle that.”

“p-please, need it. i wanna-”

you moan at the swift sound of nanami swiping a thumb across the vibrating toy feeling the impulses throb against your sweet cunt, indeed it now being a level higher from three and it’s so good you can just taste the urge to let yourself go.

the sudden feeling of his sneaking fingers to brush and slither against your puffy folds was just enough to send you to burst—your mouth slightly went agape, and you’re just stupid. “n-nanami.”

“so dumbstruck you said nanami instead of kento, such a sweet thing,” and you end up squirting the minute he rubs the toy in a circular motion—maneuvering it against you along with fingers to ghost and run alongside your achy pussy. “easy, ‘s okay. lie down on your chest. jus’ let go for me baby, yeah.”

“such a gorgeous girl,” he whispers in awe, leaning down to kiss your clit which turns to countless smooches, mwah after mwah and your legs were practically mush by now. “let me clean you all up with my tongue, ‘m your husband, least i could do. so relax for me, my love.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“oh? i’ve made you squirt before, no?” he cackles, leaning back against the headrest of the couch.

“no,” you whined, still getting over your post-orgasm, his cock stood firm inside of you, such inches of his kept you warm with your hands pressed against his chest. geto stares at you with intrigued darkened eyes. having you sat on his lap, legs still barely recovered a few minutes ago. “don’t think you ever did...”

geto grips your waist, sliding a tongue across his lips before muttering in a sly coy tone. “mhm hmm,” and he’s so sassy, even having the audacity to roll his eyes at you. black specks of hair trickle down and paint the lower half of his body. geto’s happy trail was always appetizing to look at.

“this your little way of asking me to make you soak yourself on me, angel? how cute.” he grins.

“…sugu—” and you gasp at the way he grunts the minute the pads of his thumbs lightly press and pierce into your skin. he starts making you bounce against him and your mouth opens, such lewd whines exit your lips before you throw your arms around his neck.

“wanna squirt, do it yourself. fuck me baby. show me how bad you want it,” and he groans how he’s so stuffed. so full of cum still, hefty base pounding and thwacking back against your pussy. “you’re a big girl. do it y-yourself, mhm…shit.”

he was so teasingly sly, making you rut yourself against him, in the end you always had to do pretty much everything yourself whenever it came to geto.

“…okay,” you choked out, and he playfully leans back — tiny beads of sweat running down the side of his forehead as well as the very middle part of his chiseled v-line.”

it felt so good, you’re dumbly grating your teeth together, still so sensitive, the only cacophony that left your lips was cute whimpers of, “s-sugu,” “…want you s’bad,” and even, “you’re so mean.”

he chuckles at how dumb you grew out to be simply from being stuffed full of thick inches of his dick. “gotta be mean to deal with a pussy this wet.”

his girth had you running for your money, toes clinching as you started to rollick and jerk your hips against him, reaching a hand down to play with yourself before you whine. “f-feel it, suguru.”

“yeah? what are you waitin’ for then?” he purrs.

he chuckled at the sudden moments where you’d grow quiet — he knows how good he’s getting underneath your skin with his vexatious teasing.

his cock expanded in and out the more you moved your hips against him, your soft breaths getting caught in your throat before it comes, you squirt at the same time geto came and he’s caught off guard by the sticky messy feeling, he’s the one who slips off a whine. “s-shit..”

it came out a lot…

let alone with him soaking your cunt full of his own, you really felt stuffed and full to the very depths of it, it felt like a sharp coil within you snapped. geto starts panting, and he takes a moment to blink before grunting, staring away with a flustered face. “don’t look at me. finish fucking me, hmph.”

SATORU ☆ GOJO

“pretty please, ‘toru,” you’d whine out, and he was just straight up cocky and mean, teasing you with having you on all fours, impatient and desperately desperate. “i wanna…wanna squirt.”

“i know you do,” he laughs, playfulness ran all over his tone before he gives your ass a squeeze. that earned a needy moan out of you and you but down on your lip while staring at the fat sheets of the mattress underneath you. “are you asking me to make you squirt or are ya tellin’ me, pretty girl?”

he was so infuriating. even while being plugged in with so much of his thick inches, even just barely with the way he kept swiping his fat tip against your slit, awaiting you.

“….‘m asking, s-satoru.”

he whirrs a playful tone before flipping you over on your back to face him, and then he smiles. “okay. if that’s what you want,” and his voice was so low—a tad bit raspy with pompous smugness all over his sentences. “since i know how impatient ‘n horny you are all the damn time, i’ll make ya squirt in about one minute.”

a minute?

was that even possible—you always heard about how it would take at least longer than that but then you remembered who you were dealing with. gojo satoru and his long pretty fingers that never failed to stretch your pussy out. he was forever proud of that fact, he’d make you soaking wet from not only his dick, his mouth, but especially his fingers.

“it’s gonna get messy, ‘m warning you,” he teases, pulling you up a bit to place a towel down underneath your back. he leans in to pepper kisses underneath your chin before seconds later, he moves his length aside with a grip — before slowly stuffing a single long finger inside, which after a few milliseconds, turns into another. “now, i’m gonna need you to be a good wet girl and jus’ relax for me.”

his words were soothing. you could hardly comprehend anything so his sentences went straight towards your clit, throbbing and throbbing you wanted more. he finds it cute how you grip onto his wrist, babbling about how you don’t want him to stop. “o-okay, satoru. okay.”

you shudder at the feeling of him grazing a thumb down your slit and he moves his head down between your legs to blow softly against your pussy and you moan, feeling him create a good amount of pressure to where you bare down against his fingers easily as if it came natural.

“sweet girl,” he groans, giving your pussy a kittenish suck. your eyes went back in pleasure and you whined at the feeling of his two fingers just smacking in and out of you now. the noises, they were so loud you could hardly even believe it was coming out of you. “hear how wet this sloppy pussy is? yeah girl, that’s you.”

his words that went through your ear and out the other and it got you so wet. his degradation had you pulsing, you felt the inside of your tummy tighten, muscles clenching with you lying down on your back, bracing yourself. gojo was patient with you, occasionally bringing soft kisses towards your clit. you whined before he started to grow more feral, sucking and latching his tongue against your folds while still having two fingers stuffed inside your pussy.

your brain doesn’t even process you’re squirting before gojo lets off a, “oopsie,” the minute you squirt out on his fingers, the front tips of his fingers massage and toy and prod against that spot you always grew to know—and you moan at the way he easily stole a orgasm from you like that, within a single span of a minute.

“aw. you look like you just saw your life flash before your eyes, baby,” then he sits up to face you. both arms pressed around you before muttering in a teasing tone, “want a taste? open your mouth.”

and he gives you the most sloppiest kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat before grunting, you moan in his mouth. your legs wrapped around his slim waist before he squeezes a hand down on your pussy only to spank it roughly, breaking away for a bit before whispering, “good girl. now gimme one more. wanna see if i can do it within thirty seconds.”

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“b-baby…you wanna do that?” choso mumbles, staring in awe as the both of you watched some random eight minute compilation of women squirting. he was staring intently, and then he only grew more flustered at picturing you like that. legs all spread, eyes rolled back and maybe your tongue stupidly lolled out. “um.. squirt?”

“yes…” you nodded, sitting on his lap. he throbbed behind you, still a bit tingly from his recent orgasm of fucking you.

you pressed against his back and his chin cutely rests against your shoulder. choso’s always been a bit inexperienced whenever it came to well, women. he’s had sex sure….but he doesn’t think he’s ever made a girl do this, this thing called squirting. not until you brought it up.

the more he watched it, the more he moaned to himself at imagining you being all messy like that.

“okay baby, i can do it,” he murmurs in a soft voice.

he brings a hand between your legs and pries it open just a bit, “lie back,” he moans, seeing your legs sprawl open slowly for him made him lick his lips, he was so hungry for you. you had the phone in your hand so he could watch, imitate the exact ways to make a woman squirt with ease and it was so cute how attentive he was. “s-stimulate the um…g-spot a little like this,” he mumbles to himself, and you moan once he slowly inserts two slender long fingers inside your pussy, you were so wet he lets off a cute, “o-oh….”

his eyes multitasked, turning its focus towards you and the screen that played the lewd video at the same time. “like that c-choso, please.”

“i’m doing a good job?” he says, and it’s almost into a form of a whine. all because he’s so desperate to hear your praise and approval, he feels his stomach flip in a good way at feeling you nod against his chest, affirming him to not stop. “okay, okay,” he mutters. “add a little um…p-pressure, consistent pressure until you feel a spongey like texture deep towards the clit.”

you moaned, his words matched his fingers, you tried to squeeze your thighs together but remembered you couldn’t because they were open.

your head rested back against his chest and with a right hand squeezing down onto his thigh, you felt your leg start to bounce. “m-more.”

“don’t wanna rush this baby,” he kisses the back of your forehead. a small pout going across your lips before he continues, pausing to hear the voice on the video that’s instructing speak.

he leans against your ear, strands of his hair poking against you before he murmurs. “bare against my fingers princess. squeeze down a little ‘n relax. can you do that?”

you choke out a moan once you obey his words, doing exactly what he says before you feel a sudden rush reaching out, you never felt this feeling before such a high you craved and chased you felt dizzy, a good kind of a dizzy.

“c-choso, ‘s coming, ‘s coming,” you moaned, your legs not able to hold themselves still. he has a perfect bowling ball grip with his fingers, stroking gently against you to where your mouth salivates with your own saliva.

“…fuck,” you sobbed, the warmth of him massaging his long fingers inside of you made you taste every number of tastebuds that resided on your tongue.

the moment you gush out and squirt, coating his fingers clean of your sheeny pretty slick, you flop back against his chest and you can ever hear a tiny gasp leave his lips. “w-wow,” he whispers in shock — with how much you squirted, he was so fascinated, growing more and more curious and it was adorable. “can you…can we do that again? please?”

16K notes · View notes

bunny584 · 2 months

Text

OBSESSED: GETO (PT. II)

A/N: I…guys this one is…dirty. For so many reasons. I don’t. I can’t look myself in the eye. Suguru made me do it 😅

C/W: Voyeurism, Mature themes, 18+ (Part I here)

Music inspo: This is SO Chase Atlantic coded

Acceptance.

They say the first step to recovery from addiction is acceptance.

Fine, then.

Suguru Geto’s addiction to you is absolute. And he has no interest in recovery.

He’s accepted it. You own him.

Granted, he didn’t realize just how tight your leash is. Not until last night.

Suguru is a logical, reasonable, creature of habit. He doesn’t need much. Really, he doesn’t.

But fucking you to sleep nightly is non-negotiable.

Or rather, fucking his hand. While watching you watch TV. And swirl a glass of Pinot noir in your gorgeous mouth. With your graceful fingers mindlessly swimming in a bowl of popcorn.

Extra butter. With tons and TONS of salt!

The first time you ordered your side snack at the movie theatre, Suguru almost keeled over.

But then he made the glorious mistake of flickering over to you, mid movie. Just as your index finger slid between those pillow soft lips. Pulling remnants of salt and butter away, leaving a trail of lip gloss behind.

He could’ve sucked it off your finger right there and then.

The way you pistoned in and out of your mouth. Doe-eyed and trained on the screen. Not a thought in your head. It was his gateway drug.

The butterfly effect.

A moment in time that rerouted fate.

His excruciatingly beautiful, platonic best friend, now a visceral need.

And just like any addiction. There were stages.

Denial: He doesn’t see you that way. No, of course not. His mind just got caught in a horny spiral. He’ll snap out of it. Things will go back to normal.

Anger: How could you do this to him? You know how disorienting you are. That smile. Always looking up at him with puppy eyes and parted lips. You’re a cocktease. Begging. Pleading. Needing him to debase you to nothing. Is that it? You want him to ruin you, don’t you? And he could. Fuck you into next week. Until you’re screaming and crying. He’d smear those tears all over his cock and fuck them back into your pouty mouth. It’s what you deserve.

Shame: It’s perverse. You call to vent about your day. He rubs himself raw while you talk. You kiss his cheek. His dick leaks. How could he do this to someone who trusts him like you do?

It was a vicious, muddled cycle. He could barely function around you.

Rushed greetings. Kurt words. Clipped responses. Avoidance.

He had to protect you from his depraved thoughts. Shield you from sordid actions taken in the dark — as if they would spontaneously materialize in the light to harm you.

And they did. But in the opposite way Suguru intended.

“Hey, HEY! Suguru, what the hell is up with you?”

You squeezed his wrist with all your might. It felt like nothing. But the weight in your tone hit him like a freight train.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been distant."

“I’ve been right here.”

“You’ve been distant, Suguru.”

Quartz showers streamed down your beautiful face and his cock quivered. Drooling along his thigh. So. Fucking. Pretty when you cry.

Did you know?

How irresistible you looked?

Glassy eyes. Trembling lips. Vulnerable. Soft enough to hunt.

Did you know?

How he clawed his palm bloody to keep from gripping your neck. Shoving you to your knees. And giving you a reason to whine his name like that again.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“I have to go—“

“I don’t care!”

“Wha—“

“I don’t care!! I don’t care what it is okay? I just…I miss..I miss my best friend.”

You elevated off your heels. No where near eye level, but enough to cradle his face in your dainty hands.

And God dammit. He might as well have been wearing a dog tag with your name on it.

If lost, return to Owner.

Between your misty eyes. Swollen lips. Face like a canvas to paint with his cum. He bit back a pathetic groan. And choked out an apology.

Most importantly, he made a promise to never hollow out your friendship like that again.

So, instead he fills it. With ropes of his arousal. And fuck, it’s rhapsody.

The stages. The anger, disbelief, shame…it was worth it. Because this ecstasy? It’s sublime.

Constant ascension. Never once reaching cruising altitude.

…which made the fall agonizing.

Last night, in a sick, twisted turn of fate - his camera feed cut off.

One minute Suguru is pumping into his abused rubber cocksleeve. Sliding his eyes up and down your hips until he was dizzy in the head. Pre cum squelching out of the little space between his cock and the ring of his 5th battered toy. Unintelligible praises leaking out of him, cementing his devotion. And just as the curtains began to fall on his vision. Balls heavy and hot with his seed—

Then he saw nothing.

Suguru couldn’t recognize the man in his room last night. Fingers aching. Mind racing. Dick red, angry, pulsating for its one and only vice.

Alarm bells rang between his ears. Crash landing into an abyss. Mayday.

Mayday.

In that moment. He knew he needed more. More skin. More angles. More you.

And so, he’s standing outside your Pilates studio @ 7:28 PM. Two minutes until you’re done.

A Dragonfruit smoothie rests in his hand.

And a new camera system rests in his back pocket.

———

“Ugh, I needed that.”

You sling a cold eucalyptus towel around your neck.

“And I need him.” The comment emanates from one of your girlfriends. Both of you rounding the corner out of the studio.

Suguru.

You don’t have to look out the glass windows to know exactly who she is referring to.

“I mean, seriously. How can you not climb him like a—“

“Stop it!!” Your protest made less believable because of your sheepish giggles.

“We’re just friends.” You mutter. Pulling your gym bag out of the front lockers.

Yeah, who are you trying to convince? Her? Or yourself?

Your eyes flicker to your platonic, gorgeous best friend. Raven mane in a glossy, high ponytail. Freely cascading down his back. Curly wisps framing his razor sharp angles.

He stands tall. So Muscular. Quietly masculine. Despite how dreamy his hair is.

“Omg! Your hair!! Whats your routine?” - every woman who meets him, ever.

“Genetics.”

Suguru responds the same way every time with a dimpled smile. The other party is always immediately caught in his web.

His eyes. They lure you in like quicksand. Onyx. Swarming with grey and violet specks. Stormy. Perpetually faraway.

He’s the perfect gentleman. But always a little bit above it all. Just out of reach.

It’s mesmerizing.

You can’t blame the women for trying any and everything for a tiny piece.

Suguru catches your gaze. Silky smile pulls across his lips. He beckons you with one swirl of the liquid gold in his hands.

“What are you doing here, pretty boy?”

“Happy to see you too.” He counters with a low chuckle.

You coax the sweet treat away from him. It’s precisely what you need.

Suguru always has his pulse on you. Somehow he knows where to be and when. Every time.

“Mmm” your eyes flutter shut. Savoring the sickly sweet, cold mush on your tongue.

“Exactly what you wanted?”

“Exactly. Have I told you I love you lately?”

“Not nearly enough.” His baritone hovers over you. Traveling down your spine at light speed.

Has he always sounded this sultry?

You lazily pull yourself out of the sugar-induced dopamine hit.

Suguru moves into you like a storm cloud. Accentuating the comical difference in stature. The world around you slowly dissipates.

Lost in the desert mirage of his gaze. Everything feels conscious.

Your shallow breathing. The thrum of blood surging through your vessels. Heart rattling against its bony cage.

Time stops.

Then it happens all at once.

Before you know what is happening, your best friend’s well built arm is around your waist. His large, veiny hand palming the nape of your neck.

His lips. His plump rosy lips are on yours. Sweet and warm. Pulling, pushing, melding with you into play dough.

He’s delicious.

More delectable than you knew possible.

“Mmmgh” You moan and Suguru takes the space to push his tongue into your mouth. He’s blinding. Expertly tickling the ridges and corners of your mouth. As if to show off just how skilled he is with his tongue.

“S-Suguru..”

He pulls away far before you’re ready. Shocking you out of your lusty daze. For a moment he just rests his moist lips on yours. Exchanging breaths between each other. As if only you two are the source of oxygen around you.

“Wha…what was..”

“There’s a guy burning a crater into your back.” He finally responds. Gruff. Strained. You’ve never seen him without a tight leash around his self-command.

“I didn’t want him thinking he has a chance.”

And just like that, the familiar tame control lines his velvet baritone.

Suguru places a chaste kiss on your cheek before starting to walk in the direction of your apartment. As if the world didn’t just tilt on its axis.

You’re able to maintain a fairly normal conversation with your best friend the entire walk back to your apartment. You both laugh and joke as if he didn’t just fuck your mouth with his tongue. And as if you didn’t feel drunk off of it.

You’re just friends.

…right?

You toss your keys somewhere to your left. In the periphery you see Suguru smile and shake his head. Well aware of your messy tendencies. He leans down to take your keys and place them on the door hook.

The devil on your shoulder is deafening.

Test it.

Test him.

Your hand moves before your mind.

Your fingers hook under your sports bra. Pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. Before your mounds bounce in full view, your arm cups them against your chest.

You turn to Suguru, now topless.

“Gonna hop in the shower for a little. Are you staying for dinner?” Willing your voice to be steady and light. A casual question amidst the mayhem in your mind.

And, as expected, Suguru is the perfect gentleman.

His olive tone is even. Hands slotting into his athletic pants. Faint smile tracing on his lips, dimple apparent in his left cheek.

His eyes don’t falter below your neckline. Not even for a moment.

“Not tonight, pretty. There’s a show I want to catch. Rain check?”

Of course, you’re just friends.

Best friends.

You flash him a genuine smile. Swallowing the nagging flecks of dissappointnent beginning to weave itself within you.

“Rain check!”

And maybe 10 or so minutes after soaking in your steamy shower. Trying to wash the remnants of his kiss out of your memory, you hear your door slamming shut.

You make a mental note to ask about what show he was referring to.

———

Whiskey glides hot and cold down Suguru’s throat.

Back flushed against his desk chair.

Patiently awaiting his 10:00 PM viewing.

His dick is a steel rod. Blushing and moist. Draped in a pair of your used panties. He swiped them on his way out of your apartment.

Suguru drags his palm lazily up and down his shaft. Soaking your lingerie in beads of pre cum. It’s like he’s feeling you rubbing your plush cunt up and down his rod.

Fog is settling opaque in his mind. While he pets the flame stirring between his legs.

You haven’t even come into frame yet. But Suguru admires the pristine view he has of your room. Porcelain duvet messily strewn about. Half open night stand. Magenta vibrator propped against the corner of your drawer.

How often do you touch yourself?

What do you think about?

How pretty do you sound? When you milk pleasure from your dewy core?

“Fuck,” Suguru hisses.

He brings the whiskey glass back to his parted lips. The thought of seeing you work yourself to a peak drove his hand up and down his cock too fast. If he’s not careful he’ll cum before he’s ready.

No.

Not tonight.

Tonight he wants to savor his relapse.

24 hours sober of you was unbearable. He deserves this indulgence.

Suguru tilts his chin up. Damp hair feathering his shoulders and back feels refreshingly cool against the lava circulating beneath his skin.

“You like teasing me don’t you?” He murmurs, slowly pumping his cock through his strained grip.

The way you pulled off your sports bra. Well before you reached your bathroom door. Pretty bedroom eyes raking his face. Testing him. You knew he would go home and feverishly fuck his fist for you. Didn’t you?

A siren’s melody pulls his hazy, dazed attention back to screen.

“There she is.”

Suguru leans closer to his screens. Giving himself kudos for choosing a camera system with audiovisual integration this time around.

You step in full view of his camera and his body stills. Completely statuesque. Mouth ajar. His cock drool dribbling down his stiff hand is the only source of movement in the room.

“Fuck…fucking hell.”

There you stood. Thong as richly colored as the wine in your glass. Accentuating the dramatic dip and swell of your pretty waist and hips. The wavy lines from your slender shoulders to your full tits are enough to make him seasick. Your nipples are so hard. Puffier than he imagined.

You are immaculate.

A divine being. Heaven’s incarnate.

And even if you weren’t. Even if you were the devil. He’d follow you to the depth of hell.

A thick surge of pre cum flicking back against his lower abs pulls him briefly out of his trance. Suguru didn’t realize how hard he was strangling his length. Which is violently jerking in haphazard directions.

Begging for its real owner.

Suguru drags in a deep breath. Reluctantly unraveling his needy hand away from his manhood. Another sip of icy brown liquor.

Savor this.

As if your souls are tied, you take a sip of red wine before settling in your bed. Back against your head board. Feet planted on your plush duvet. You let your knees fall to the side and Suguru nearly drools on himself.

A blooming rose.

Presenting your swollen, misty petals to him for worship. His eyes drop to your core. A thin line of fabric laid so perfectly between your folds.

Suguru has to remind himself that you aren’t in front of him.

And he can’t just dive into your dewy cunt. And nuzzle against your bud. And lap up the honey in between your folds.

You rest your head against the wall. Exposing the delicate lines of your neck. His left hand magnets back to his cock. His right hits the record function on the screen.

You are too special not to capture.

But, even if he couldn’t record you on this system, every moment right now is etched into his mind for an eternity.

Especially the way your dainty fingers travel down your chest, along your torso, beneath the hem of your panties and settle over your clit.

“That’s it, princess.” Suguru chants beneath his clipped breaths. Dragging your soaked underwear along his messy shaft.

He matches his pace to your tiny circles. Small, gorgeous pants tumble out of you.

Your other hand palms at your tits. Pinching and pulling at your pert nipples. Your hips buck at the sweet pleasure and pain.

“Good girl”

His arousal continues to collect at his base, trickling to his inner thighs. The sound of his hilt slamming into his hand fill the room.

“God. S..Suguru…”

His name thunders between his ears.

His name wrapped in that melodic, lusty falsetto of yours.

Suguru’s brain can barely register the way your tits bounce in rhythm with your hands. Pistoning your fingers in and out of your sweet cunt. Ascending to euphoria. He can barely register the way your lips are swollen and abused from your teeth. Or the light sheen of sweat along your collarbones.

“Fuck, Suguru please..” you moan. Both hands now working your flower.

Suguru is slack jawed. Completely short circuited. He cannot move.

Unblinking, he studies you. Hands at his side. Cock spearing high in the air, leaking.

His mind is flooded with the thin, featherlight moans and whines. Sticky arousal leaks from your needy opening around your fingers. Coating your inner thighs. How you twist and groan away from your own pleasure - so clearly overstimulated but not stopping your fingers, anyway.

“Say my name, pretty girl. Say my name.” Suguru rasps out. Sharp pain lightening through him from the dryness in his throat.

And you do. You moan his name when you reach nirvana. Heaving and whining and squirming in your mess. You called for him.

“God, I’m disgusting.”

You laugh through the remnants of your high and bury yourself under the duvet. Lazily tapping the bedside lamp. Bringing Suguru’s private viewing to an end.

And his smile is vulturous.

Suguru’s hand runs the length of his insatiable cock. Slow, lazy strokes. Haphazard twitches pushing out globs of cum. Begging for an encore.

You think you’re disgusting?

Ohhh, sweet girl.

You don’t know the half of it.

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witchysfics · 7 months

Text

Paint me

author's note : This is unedited.

Gale asks Tav to paint runes on him for a magical experiment. Fluff, and little bit risqué, if you squint.

The ink was slippery and cold as you plunged your fingers into its seemingly unending darkness. The substance quickly slid down your fingers has you hurriedly rushed over to your "canvas".

Gale sat in front of you, his back towards you. Top half bare so you may be able to paint the magic runes onto his skin. The muscles in his back stiffened ever so slightly as you made contact, beginning the first rune.

Gale had come to you for a favor, a rather.... intimate one, he described it. Your task was to paint magic runes onto his body so that he may better attune to the magic he wished to learn of. It seemed simple enough, you watched him these past days struggle with concentrating on spells in this particular study. He could use a little help it seemed.

Being a magic wielder yourself you were able to understand the concept, of course all of this was just theory, but who where you to turn away an opportunity to uncover more about the use of magic?

Maybe this magical body paint would work and you could use it more in the future. It could come in handy when you need to attune to spells without any notice to the individuals around you. Even small spells could be written onto skin and used as quick reactions against a foe.

Gale was quick to complain about the temperature of the ink as you dragged your finger along his shoulder blade. He shivered, peering over his shoulder at you, "Must it be so cold? Couldn't you have picked a different medium?" He whined, "One less.... frigid?"

You picked your eyes up from your work to look into his. He looked teasing, eyes squinted from the small smile he directed toward you, You huffed drawing your attention back to the work before you, "Squid's ink is a good conductor for magical properties. My theory is that it will help you feel the momentum of the magic through each rune as you cast." Gazing at your finger tips, "You're not the only one suffering, my fingers will be stained for days now."

"Stained?!" Gale cried. "You've ruined my beautiful body with inky stains?" He half joked, his face turning into mock anger.

"You're being dramatic, you asked for my help." You retaliated, "You said you trusted my judgment as one who "worked within the Weave.""

"Seems I was wrong to put my trust in you then." Gale's words were harsh, but the playful tone in his voice told otherwise. You gently turned his face away so he was looking forward again and he chuckles.

"If you keep distracting me this cold ink will only stay on for longer."

"Your fingertips will keep me warm enough any how."

"Gale."

"Right sorry, distractions."

Your face warmed at his comment. Gale was not shy at all when it came to comments like that, but you could never tell if his words were just his Gale nature or if they were laced with more. Your poor heart couldn't take it. This task might as well be torture. How could he ask this of you when you harbored such great feelings for him?

Your fingers traced down the expanse of his back once more, painting the final rows of inky runes.

You clapped, signaling you finished your work. Gale turned, looking into the mirror off to the side of him to get a better look at the runes on his back.

"Marvelous!" He exclaimed.

You let out a breath as you began packing away the ink, having mixed feelings about ending this intimate painting.

Just as you were to begin the journey back to your tent Gale called out to you.

"Where are you going? We aren't finished."

You turned looking back at him with a confused expression.

"There's more my dear." He said flipping the page of his book, showing you the other half of the runes.

You cocked a brow at him, "And where is the rest meant to go? There is no more room on your back."

He cleared his throat, looking nervous? His voice was soft when he spoke, "On the front half."

"Oh" was all you breathed out in realization.

You slowly made your way back to your original spot while he watched you patiently. He sat on his knees, this time facing you. You were able to see how much broader Gale was then you when his back faced you, but now? He towered over you now too, if you were to lower your head he would be unable to see your face. You were thankful for this as you opened the bottle of squid's ink and balanced it on your lap.

Looking back up at him you flashed you a nervous smile yet cheesy smile.

He's adorable.

Glancing down to his chest you were able to see the imprint of his unfortunate past with magic. You'd never seen it so clearly before. The twisting lines that curled up his neck was all that you had been able to see till now. Seeing the tattoo that once caused him great pain, now calmed, felt so meaningful it pulled at your heart. How long had a gazed at this mark and felt nothing but remorse and heartbrokenness? Does he still feel that way now even with his new "control" over it?

You bit your lip, lost in thought. Gale noticed your lingering eyes. Gently taking your hand in his he placed it on mark softly. Your eyes meet briefly as he gave you anxious but encouraging smile. Your featherlight fingers traced it, ink free and memorizing its pattern. He let out a soft noise, shuttering under your touch. Was it from the softness of your touches or from the vulnerability of the moment neither he nor yourself were sure.

He sighed dreamily, watching you. "You don't have to worry about it impeding on the runes. You should be able to paint over it just fine." He chuckled, "its a mer regrettable tattoo now." He joked but you knew he would never be able to see it that way.

Your brow furrowed, "I'm sorry."

"Don't frown love, this is the mark of the weapon that ends the dreaded absolute!"

"It won't come to that." you say firmly. "I won't let it come to that."

He doesn't say anything in response, but when you look up and see him quickly wipe one of his eyes you decide you don't need an answer.

The space between you grows comfortbly quite as you begin your painting once again.

You feel his eyes as you paint across his chest and you can't help but to feel like a squirming mess under his gaze.

"You know you can stop watching me like a teacher watches their apprentice. I'm able to handle a few simple ruins." You say in a matter-a-fact tone.

He hums. "I know. You have proven to me that you are very capable."

"Then you don't need to stare so intensely."

"That is not the reason I stare anyway."

"Why do you stare then?"

He pauses when you stop to look up at him. "Is it so wrong to watch beauty as they work?" His eyes gleam of something awaiting your response.

You have no response for him, unfortunately. Well, not a verbal one at least, as your jaw hangs slack and finger stops mid swipe. You blink rapidly and clear your throat trying to recompose yourself. Eyes averted from his you attempt to recover the rune you just scribbled out, you squeak, "You- your.... What did I say about being a distraction Gale?"

He threw his head back with laugher and you could only assume you gave him the response he was looking for.

You finish the last rune while he continues to laugh. You gaze up at him again while his head remains back, laughing, his throat on full display.

The air around him becomes filled with a different type of tension as you take this opportunity to begin the runes that were meant to be painted on his neck.

His boisterous laughing comes to a small choke when you place your inky index and middle finger on his throat and pull them down. He gulps visually and lets out a strained moan. Your fingers continue down his throat and end at the expanse of his sternum.

He looks down at you still with his head back, his mouth ajar as your voice fills his ears.

"Oh, don't become distracted Gale. I'm nearly finished." You say, your voice like velvet. While he stammers for a response you dip both of your hands in the ink, preparing for the final part of the spell

He attempts to say something else, but whatever it was is cut off by a dreamy sigh as you place both your inky hands on his face and drag your fingers down the sides of his neck while your thumbs drag down the front of his throat. You connect the inky lines to the runes toward the middle of his chest.

You prop yourself onto your knees so you tower above him. He watches you eyes unblinking and unable to look away as you place your index finger on his lips. Drawing a line down his chin and connecting it to the stripes on his throat. The final inky blob of the rune.

His eyes, half lidded with want? Desire? His face dark red from, nervousness? Arousal?

You don't get a good enough moment to look before you pick up you squid's ink and remove yourself from your flustered "canvas".

"Let me know how the spell goes Gale!" You say to him as you turn to leave. "Oh and please let me know if ever need my connection with the Weave again for your... experiments."

footnote : This is my first bg3 fic! and this is a new blog. Requests are open and I will have rules soon but for now just request without reading them since I don't have them up yet. Pretty please request cause my head is empty lol. Thanks! - Witchy

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whispereons · 5 months

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 21

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 20, Part 22

Warning! This series is SAGAU and Imposter AU so expect gore. Although this chapter focus more on mental distress rather then physical.

There's a soft light that shines in front of you, lulling you to open your eyes. Pure white greets you as you slowly come to your senses.

There's no feeling in your body, but it doesn't worry you. The boundless white space you exist in is comforting. The sky whirls around you as new colors burst into being.

The once blank canvas is now painted a dark sky on your left with stars sparkling like jewels. On your right is the morning sky, bright blue with clouds adorning it delicately.

It's silent but peaceful. Your relaxed conscious is stirred from its slumber by a voice echoing around you.

“Why have you returned?”

It’s commanding, yet graceful. A cold compassion or a warm hostility?

“The deal has been finalized, and your return was never meant to be. No, that's incorrect.” A pensive hum is heard before the voice continues.

“You were meant to return at some point, but… not now, not yet. Teyvat seems to have sped up the process. While that doesn’t break the deal, I certainly won’t tolerate it amicably.”

A darker tone is used at the end of their words, before the gorgeous sky is overcome by dark red blocks. The serenity you feel is replaced by panic. You’re helpless to stop it from taking over everything.

Your vision begins to swarm with the blood-colored familiar blocks. As crimson takes over, the voice finishes their words.

“I won’t let you back so easily.” The last bits of your vision is covered and your lungs wheeze from the pain of the panic-

“Gasp-”

You sit up in the bed as sweat dots your skin, your lungs burn, and your fingers tremble from the grip you have on the covers. Eyes darting around the small room you’re in, your brain is unable to process everything as it spins.

The dream lingers in your mind. The red blocks poke at the edge of your eyes, the voice continues to echo through your mind. Leaning back, you rest your head on the headboard, the cool wood is a relief on your sweaty skin.

Releasing your bruising grip on the blankets, you rest your palms on your chest. You do your best to pay no mind to how your hands shake. Closing your eyes, a breath is inhaled and kept in.

One… That painting like sky, where else could you see something similar?

Two… The voice that spoke about Teyvat and you so casually, as if knowing everything.

Three… A status similar to an Archon, or mage? No, maybe even higher.

Four… Those red blocks have only been seen once before.

Five… You know who it is now.

The breath is exhaled, and your eyes flutter open at your revelation. Not like she was meaning to hide it. In fact, you could be certain that she wanted you to know that she was Celestia.

Sunlight begins to stream past the edges of the curtain, the wooden floor is cold against your bare feet as you get off the bed. Yanking the curtains and opening the window, you’re greeted with the sun barely peeking out and dew still present on the greenery.

The thought of how early you’ve been forced awake already sours your mood further.

It’s not anytime near 9 am, you would be lucky if it was half past 7 am. Sighing, you flop back onto the bed and reach for that connection between you and Teyvat.

‘Did you see that dream?’ You ask as you stare out the window from your spot. Silence envelops the room as you wait patiently. The soft beating of wings comes from the window, a Geo Crystalfly glides into the room before resting on the bedding next to you.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. What deal did Celestia make that involves me? What part did you play in speeding up my migration to this world?’ Staring firmly at the Crystalfly you remain in your spot.

The amber wings pause and the rocky outline stick together, keeping the wings closed. The crystal exterior body offers no answer to your expectant eyes.

‘Why won’t you respond now? You’re not Zhongli who is obligated to abide by a contract. Am I not your god?’ A bubble of frustration rises at the continued silence. The Crystalfly lowers itself further against the sheets, as if bowing to you.

But you didn’t want a useless bow. You wanted answers.

‘This situation fundamentally involves me. You, or Celestia, or whoever else is in this mess brought me here. And now I’m stuck acting out this stupid Oracle role and I can’t even get a single answer as to why?’

More Geo Crystalflies enter the room, all of them perch on the bed and mimic the bowing gesture. As if that useless, passive action could subdue your ire.

‘I’ve spent every day in this damn world fighting for my life! I just barely recovered from the brink of death! And yet when I ask about this strange situation and suspicious behavior, I get no response? NOT EVEN AN INDIRECT ONE?!’

Maybe it was all the stress you’ve been under, or the pain that still lingers in your body. Some would even say it was all the emotional hurt you’ve felt at having all the characters you treasured dearly treat you like this. But you couldn’t stop yourself from raising your hand in anger, rapidly coming down on the quivering Crystalflies that just refused to move-

Clink!

Your hand is abruptly stopped by the sound of metal hitting the table. You tore your eyes away from the Crystalflies to land on a weasel sitting on the table, a single mora lays at it’s feet.

Recognizing it vaguely as the weasel thief or mora weasels that treasure hoarders train, you stare at it unimpressed. It comes closer to you as the Crystalflies gently flap away to form a path. Beady eyes stare up at you pleadingly as the backpack on it jingles with all the mora inside.

Fingers unbuckling the straps, you remove the backpack and peer into the bag. The brown bag must only hold about 500 Mora, but mora is still mora, and you empty it into your bag. Once finished, you turn back to the Crystalflies ready to intimidate and interrogate more. You only refrain when the scurrying of multiple feet catches your attention.

What has to be at least 10 weasel thieves climbing through the open window, all carrying bags stuffed to the brim. Some hold 750 Mora, while others hold 1,000. Each time you unclip the bag and pour the mora into your bag. And each time you turn towards the Crystalflies, more weasels come through.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” You groan aloud as you ignore the assortment of weasels in the room, choosing to instead sit on the bed. The Crystalflies return to the bowing position as you gaze down at them with an unreadable expression.

Carefully, you scoop up the first Crystalfly that arrived into your hands, guilt of what you had almost done wraps around your heart like a vice.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to hit you. Although this whole gatekeeping vital information is annoying, you’ve been nothing but helpful to me. Besides, you may be keeping quiet due to a threat of some sort that the divulging of information could pose.’

You could hear the sounds of the weasels returning with more and more gifts. No doubt a way for Teyvat to show its gratitude to your ‘mercy’. With pursed lips, you ignore the actions and speak to Teyvat gently.

‘I’m afraid, Teyvat. Afraid that Celestia will take drastic measures to keep me from ‘returning’ or whatever. I’m 99% that Celestia is the one who disabled my teleporting feature and why I was only able to telepathically teleport those few times. For all I know, it could be a permanent disability. I don’t want to be limited more than I already am. If it goes too far, then I may even lose those things that proved me as an Oracle. And if that happens…’

Trailing off, you close your eyes and let out a bitter sigh. Setting the Geo Crystalfly back down, its amber wings fluttering in response, you turn to the weasels. Bags of mora, jewelry, wild fruit and small gemstones are beginning to fill up the table.

Opening the flap of your bag, you point at it and then at the table. “I want you guys to put all of that into my bag. If you have bags for me to open for you, bring them to me.”

A resounding trill is heard from them before the horde of Crystalflies flew out of the window. Deciding to leave the window open, you grab the letters and gifts from your previous visitors and bring them onto the bed.

The pitter-patter of the weasels feet and occasional flap of the Geo Crystalflies wing is heard in the background as you prepare for the day. Exiting the room and crossing the silent halls, you get to what has to be the bathroom and finish your morning routine.

The shower you take was the perfect opportunity to examine how your body is after all the healing. The bandages are removed and disposed of as you look into the foggy mirror.

Small scars in the shape of slits are seen on your body, Yelan’s arrows were no joke. The ice from Shenhe’s attacks left lighter toned patches on your calves too. Minor bruises and cuts were still healing up, but the small sting from the water didn’t bother you. If anything, it was the jagged and uneven scars along your spine that brought your mood down.

You were lucky that your broken spine didn’t cut into your spinal cord and paralyze you…

Changing into clean clothes and wrapping some new bandages, you do it all with a sense of apathy. Wouldn’t the thought of nearly being paralyzed have more of an effect? Yet when you thought of it, you could only imagine a sense of relief…

Looking back at the now clear mirror, you reach up for your mask. The battered mask is slipped off and placed on the counter. Familiar eyes stare back, and a grimace plays on your lips.

A purple bruise makes itself known on your temple, and poorly cared for skin muddles your features. The bridge of your nose, the eyes that crinkle at your attempt of a smile, even the way your full face comes together is so-

Foreign.

It’s not yours, not anymore.

It’s the Creators. The God that everyone worships as the one and only bearer of gold blood and highest form of authority.

Y/N does not have a face.

You have a title and a mask to be known by. A manner of speaking that leaves all to be swindled and led by without a true clue as to what goes on.

Licking your cracked lips, you adorn the mask once more and return to the room. Both the weasels and Crystalflies have already left, leaving it bare of activity. Closing the bag absentmindedly, you grab the medication bottles left on your bedside table.

Following the instructions Baizhu told you last night, you drink the medication as prescribed and gag at the taste. Setting all the medication aside, you sit down on the bed again and stare at the pile on the bed.

The letters and gifts from everyone that tried to visit are quickly sorted into two piles. You dig into the designated gift pile first.

A small box is opened to reveal a pair of armored fingerless gloves. It’s not super hard to guess your size, but they fit perfectly. The second and cuter box is opened with a delicious scent imprinting its first impression.

No one else could make food that smells this good except for Xiangling. Taking advantage of the early hours AKA no Baizhu, you wolf down the meal without properly admiring it. The spicy dish won’t do your still sensitive stomach any favors, but at least you enjoyed it.

A folded up paper is the next gift. Unraveling it shows a crude drawing of a brown haired girl with a pink flower, a tall man with glasses, a boy with a color palette you barely remember and a masked figure that had to be you.

Yiran, the little girl that you saved, had to be the one who drew this. That’s who must have spread the word and why Baizhu asked you to be lenient. Only her father, Kuan, could afford to bring her here.

The uneven letters spelling ‘My Heroes!’ at the bottom of the drawing made you smile a little. It was good that she was not only healed enough, but also happy enough to draw this for you.

The boy next to her in the drawing brought a sadder feeling. You didn’t remember him, but you did remember his mother. Her gaunt face and pale complexion came to mind as you pocketed the drawing. You weren’t sure if you could handle facing her.

The next gift evoked a stronger sense of despair as a patchy pouch was opened to show various knick-knacks. Pretty rocks, a tin with a string, shiny coins and worn out dice. You were familiar with the nature of these objects.

Most would see it as trash, but you knew it to be toys that were just as much, if not more fun, than the toys found in shops. Bored kids with nothing to do and nothing to use will find ways to entertain themselves, and being impoverished only fuels their creativity.

Trying to push away those nostalgic melancholic feelings, you open the last gift. A simple string necklace with a dark blue stone hanging from it laid in the box. The icy blue engraved symbol on it reminded you of Chongyun.

After disposing the trash, you put the drawing and the pouch into your bag. You reached for the letters next and opened the first one that you touched.

It was from Kuan, not unexpected, but you were interested in seeing what he had to say. What part he played in your identity getting spread around.

Most of it was profuse thanks for your completion of the commission and that the Adventurers Guild had the payment. Then it was how once Yiran had woken up, she had sneaked into the room when Baizhu was working and saw you.

Apparently she hadn’t been able to heal properly and was stuck on bed rest due to her grief. The kidnapping, death of her friend and finding out that you were going to be punished by the Adepti from the other kids created a mental block preventing her from healing.

But after seeing you and that you were still alive, her pain was eased enough that she was able to finally recover. You felt bad that she was sick all this time while you were being chased down, but she’s better now. And that’s all that mattered.

The next letter was actually from Kazuha. It detailed the sights that he had seen during his exploration of the Lisha area. It quickly turned into how panicked he felt when the wind pushed him to return to Liyue Harbor. The agonizing pain he felt over the rumors of a masked person being rushed into Bubu’s Pharmacy.

As no visitors were allowed, he went to Beidou and relayed the news. She had already finished her business and was preparing to leave. So he left you this letter and the armored gloves from Beidou.

Folding up the letter with the red and orange patterned leaf, you put it back into your bag. A knock on the door caught your attention before it opened slightly to show Qiqi.

“Oh, you’re awake.” She stands at the door frame until you nod, allowing her inside. She ambles inside with a cart of food and medicine. “Please take your medicine with the tea and eat the breakfast.”

She leaves just as quick as she came. As you weren’t starving after Xianglings meal, you took your time with breakfast. The medicine even with the tea tasted pretty bad.

Grabbing the next letter, a faint scent of food lingers on it, letting you know who sent it. Xiangling’s letter was small enough to be confused for a note, but it still easily conveyed her wreck of emotions. It ended with her mourning the fact that she couldn’t visit after dropping off the letter due to a rematch with a Monstadter that she scheduled long in advance.

A letter with a fancy wax seal was next. Opening it, you found the most horrendous handwriting you’ve ever seen. No matter how many times you rubbed your fingers on it, hoping that Tevyat could translate the mess of a letter, it just wouldn’t get any better.

The most you could make out was that Xingqui and Chongyun tried to visit but were denied. That the amulet was a gift from Chongyun that had a spell to protect you from evil spirits. And finally, that they're going to visit sometime today.

Didn’t Xingqui have some connection with Albedo? That would be an easy way to be innocently introduced into Mondstadt.

The next one thankfully did have eligible handwriting, it was a mix of bold letters and graceful strokes. Yun Jin and Xinyan both came to visit, but only Yun Jin would have time to come today.

The thought of having to entertain all these guests with Baizhu still waiting on the explanation of your Oracle status was not improving your desire to just vanish from Liyue. You forgot how tiring it was to constantly string up webs of lies that make up a cohesive story. It was like being constantly at work with the threat of danger on a brand-new level.

That letter is quickly dismissed and you grab the final letter. The paper is stained, and the edges are worn, opening it a strange set of words are found inside it.

“Hello, do you remember me?”

Frowning, you continue to read it as you search through your memories. The words make little sense until you come across a line that summons a wave of needless guilt.

“Those children enjoyed choosing those gifts for you. They remind me of my son.”

You don’t really want to finish this letter anymore.

Despite your internal feelings, you continue to skim through the letter. It touches on how they’re all adjusting to life back on the streets.

How the kids work together more but wail even louder in the night. The people that curse them out for coming back, the few items they had left swept away by the government as ‘trash’. The empty and hollow feeling she carries now that her son is gone.

She wished that she had given him up at birth like she was advised. That maybe at least then he would still be alive.

She mentions her son at least once every line into the letter.

It’s only when you see the curves of the ink spelling out his name that you scrunch up the paper. The paper crinkles as your teeth grit together, the sounds perfectly in tune with each other.

The anger is confusing. You don’t know the kid, so why should you feel guilty? Why should you feel guilty that she chose to share her anguish with you? Why does the thought of being even more aware of that boy make your heart race?

Slowly, you open the now wrinkled and slightly torn paper and skip straight to the bottom.

“I know you probably don’t care. You never promised me that you could save him or deliver him alive to me. But it’s easier to share these feelings with someone separated from this situation than the people who are already suffering with me.”

“I should take these feelings to the Creator and beg for some relief from my pain, yet I can’t even muster the strength to care for the tongue I ripped out in my mourning. How could I possibly keep this pain to me and the Creator alone? Don’t fret about helping me. I leave that all up to our God.”

That end soothes your racing heart and warped feelings, it’s clear to you now.

You’re beginning to feel the guilt from being their God but unable to actually help with anything. Celestia somehow limited you, none of your acolytes would ever believe you to be the Creator, and the powers you do have access to now are useless.

Was it your fault? Could you have been faster and given that boy some food to have saved him? Can you speak to some form of authority and have them help those victims?

Mindlessly, you begin to tear up the letter. It’s therapeutic to watch the scraps fall onto the tray. Each ink stained paper is ripped with shaking fingers, almost like you’re ripping apart the physical manifestation of your guilt.

It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.

You’re not their God, you’re just the Oracle.

The truth doesn’t matter now. If this world can’t accept you wholeheartedly as the human you are, then why should you work to be seen as the God they cherish so much?

As if on cue, ruby droplets fall onto the worn shredded paper on the tray from the paper cuts you gained from your actions. The new gloves you got from Beidou are threatened to be stained as the red begins to trail down, but you quickly swipe it away.

Cursing yourself internally over the mess you made, you fumble with the drawer next to you for some bandages, not even hearing the repeated knocking on the door. It’s only when it’s opened and the pitter-patter of steps nearing you make you look toward it.

Cold, small fingers wrap around your own as magenta eyes stare up at you past the talisman hanging down from her hat.

“What happened?” Qiqi drawls, her signature zombie-like tone makes shame bubble up within you. Hanging your head, you don’t respond as you avoid her eyes.

You don’t feel normal.

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

The pharmacy is noisy as people frequently pass by the door to your room. Humming a catchy tune, you drum your fingers on the window sill as you watch outside the window. You imagine the wood of the sill must be cool, but you can’t tell under the bandages wrapped around your fingers.

Baizhu had visited you not too long ago to check on your leftover wounds and apply the topical medication. The cool moisture of the herbal medicine cooled down your body and prevented your apparent fever from worsening.

The room is clean aside from the bag you have left sitting on the bed with your belongings safely tucked away.

A small bag lies inside with the bloodied paper remains sitting inside it. You still aren’t sure if you were better off keeping it or throwing away. The series of knocks on your door bring your attention away from the scenery outside the window.

Staring for a second to be sure if you heard correctly, softer rapping follows up.

“Come in.” You call out before moving closer to the middle of the room. It swings open to show a girl with a shiny pink flower hairpin and a tall man wearing glasses. The smile on Kuan’s face is such a stark difference to the dark circles and sullen expression he wore when you first met him.

Yiran has bright eyes and a smile that could rival match the sun. Propufse thanks leave them both as Yiran keeps her fingers wrapped tight around her father’s. She’s still pale and clings to her father's hand when he moves to give you a handshake, but you gracefully ignore it.

“-Oh, and I’m so sorry that you’re being talked about by so many people. I really didn’t expect it to spread so far when I let her tell those other children that you saved that you were alive and recovering.” He looks kindly down at Yiran before gently urging her. “You too, Yiran, you have to apologize.”

Her eyes droop a little, but she still bows her head slightly as she apologizes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted my friends to know you were okay.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Thank you for the drawing.” You smile at them with ease and maintain small talk with them both a while longer before they leave. The door swings close, and your expression flattens at the same time.

Turning back to the window, you sit again and stare outside. The fluffy white clouds roll past in the blue sky as you allow your mind to go quiet. You just want a brief reprise from the stress you’ve been under all this time.

Time to just exist without having to worry about proving why you deserve to live in this world or your old one. Especially with Ningguang and your travel to the next region so close.

Maybe you took a nap or just dozed off, but the strum of a guitar brought your hazy mind back to awareness. Lifting your head from your arms crossed on the windowsill you see Xinyan taking steps two at a time as she runs from Millelith soldiers.

She quickly jumps off the top step onto the concrete so far below as she continues to play her guitar. It’s impressive, but you can’t help but be irked that soldiers had enough time to chase Xinyan but not help find kidnapped children.

That spiral of thoughts is interrupted as Yun Jin walks up the same set of stairs to Bubu Pharmacy as the soldiers disappear deeper into the city. Outwardly, she’s perfectly maintained, but the slight fidget of her fingers are like a warning sign.

The first and last time you spoke to her was the day of her ‘Lonely Chameleon’ performance that you vaguely recall had her promising to clear up the misunderstanding with Keqing.

What a bunch of good that did.

Yun Jin leaves your sight as she enters the building, and you move away from the window to crack the door open. Sitting on the foot of the bed, you patiently wait for Yun Jin to arrive. The biggest thing you relied on her about was her conversation with Keqing. So at least the situation with the Liyue Qixing can’t get any worse.

A polite knock sounds on the door before you call her in. Yun Jin steps in and closes the door behind her with a graceful smile that you return pleasantly.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you Y/N. I’m unsure if you read the letter but Xinyan and I were incredibly worried. Are you feeling any better?”

It’s not small talk, she’s genuinely concerned, but you have to force the undeserved annoyance down. “I’m feeling way better, and I’m basically almost back to normal. I’ll be discharged today, so don’t worry. Thank you for your concern.” God, you haven’t felt this fake in a while.

Yun Jin walks closer before stopping in front of you, polite as she is, she's not going to ask for a seat so you pat the spot on the bed next to you. Small talk is needlessly exchanged for a few more minutes, but you’re beginning to feel antsy from being stuck in your worry over how Keqing reacted.

“What performance did you do the day after we met? I remember you mentioning how you would speak to Keqing on my behalf after that play.” There it goes again, her fingers twitch before she tightly clasp them together on her lap.

“The performance went well. Thankfully nothing like the Geovishap hatchling accident happened so it wasn’t as stressful. I-I did get to talk to the Yuheng, but I’m afraid she didn’t put much trust into my words.” Just as you thought.

Her eyes squint slightly as she stares down at her lap, the little tremble of her lips and crack in her manners surprises you. You didn’t think she would feel this guilty over it.

“The questions she asked me about how or even just proof of your oracle status were troublesome to say the least. I genuinely didn’t have an answer for most of them and the ones I did weren’t very in-depth. I apologize Y/N.”

Placing your hand on her shoulder, your head shakes softly to deny her words. “Don’t worry about it, Yun Jin. I have a chance to personally refute some of the suspicions on me today. Thank you for at least trying, I just have one question.”

A part of you feels bad that you’re unintentionally displaying your frustrations on Yun Jin but not enough to stop you from asking your question. Her shoulders tense under your hand, and her face freezes when she hears your question.

“Did all those questions make you question whether I’m actually the Creator’s oracle?”

You can only force your lips into a smile that threatens to dissolve into a scowl with every fiber of your self-control at her body's reaction.

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

It’s disappointing, you think to yourself, as Yun Jin basically flees the room. The excuses she gave you and topic changes she tried to pull were pathetic, but you weren’t surprised considering how you went straight for the throat.

Yun Jin was a beast when it came to stage affairs and directing in arts, but there’s little to nothing she has to counter your precise attack. In a way, it’s smart for her to run rather then stand her ground and try to answer.

Standing up, you stretch your body, enjoying the absence of pain. The sly grin you wear is so much more comfortable than the bitter frown you’ve worn these past few days. Yun Jin was simply a good warm up, a nice way to get back into the ‘Oracle’ headspace you’ve developed.

It didn’t matter if you were their God or the Oracle.

Money, shelter, food, and a sense of security were all you needed in life. That is what you’ve focused on to survive all these years, and Teyvat will be no different. If playing along to the cult’s belief of the Creator being the Almighty guarantees your survival, then you’ll happily do so and benefit from their obsession.

Smiling with renewed vigor, you relax on the bed as the sound of footsteps came closer. The hissing of a snake and the muffled words of a man could be heard steadily arriving.

If Yun Jin was a warm-up then Baizhu was your practice. Tonight you had to face Ningguang and that required all your skills to be in top shape lest you end up being killed by her hands.

The door swings open without warning as yellow snake eyes and fushia eyes meet your own eyes hidden beneath your mask. Smiling without a care, you call out to the contracted partners.

“Nice to see you again so soon Dr. Baizhu and it’s nice to meet you Changsheng. You’re here for the scar tissue sample and to ask some questions about my background, right? Come in! Just be sure to close the door behind you…”

Still alive, surprisingly… It's hard to believe that my last update on this story was Nov 14. If you want to hear my excuses as to why it takes long, it basically boils down to school, sick, holiday, and family lol. Plus money but when is it done a problem? But I came back and was working on it very slowly throughout all this time! The next update will take long too as finals are till the 22nd. And then the next semester on the 17(?) of Jan so yeah, little to no break. Thanks to my editor who got it done quite fast which is why the chapter is up now, Sunday night or rather early Monday. I hope it gives you all a good start to the week. To actually talk about about the story, I gotta say that it's longer then I thought. There's still a few leftover tasks to complete before Y/N can truly leave. As well as a hint to the overarching threat now that we got this Celestia hint. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the series! If your name is in italics that means I couldn't tag you for whatever reason. If you are missing from the taglist and I didn't respond to your comment or ask to be added to the taglist, leave a comment here so I can check it. Taglist: Open as always!

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insomniumstella · 7 months

Text

spice & honey

bucky x baker!reader

summary: cinnamon buns and wickedly strong coffee must be the only reasons James Buchanan Barnes visits your bakery daily, despite the inconvenience of driving to a small town on the outskirts of Upstate New York. right?

warnings: first dates and crushes (absolutely classified as warnings), mead consumption, a curse word or two, soft!bucky

word count: 4,565

author's note: i've been watching Gilmore Girls a little too much lately (hence the little easter egg). on another note, autumn is my favourite season, so prepared to be sick of James attending harvest festivals and drinking apple cider 🍂🥧🎃

all the stories i've written

September 21st marks the official arrival of Autumn. Though the weather has been rather cheerful lately, today’s air is much crisper and heavier with the promise of looming rain. The streets of Eldermont remain far too green to your dismay, but Spice & Honey—the bakery you’ve owned for the past five years—is rich in shades of marigold and copper. A wide assortment of mugs, mostly in various shapes of pumpkins, and spiced teas, line the shelves, while the fresh jars of apple butter are neatly stacked alongside the register. Besides the usual treats, the glass display teems with seasonal favourite pumpkin tarts and apple cider donuts.

The everlasting chatter of customers and soft sounds of a vintage record you scored at a neighbour’s garage sale just last month saturate the space as you place the second batch of cinnamon rolls on the counter. The clock reads 10:57 AM, and though you’ve been attempting to conceal your excitement, Vivienne could sense it the second you stepped through the door, teasing you about the very special visitor who’s always in need of sugary buns and black coffee at exactly five past eleven.

James Buchanan Barnes is a regular customer, you often argue. The nervous babble, flustered movements, and beaming smiles convey otherwise. And so yes, you might have a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on the freakishly tall, muscular brunette who brings in the latest editions of The Culinary Canvas magazine each Monday and notices the smallest of changes in your recipes. Just maybe, you reluctantly ponder when your thoughts inadvertently wander to that charming grin and baby blue eyes every time you knead the dough for his adored treat — a dessert once reserved for Autumn suddenly available year around.

“Staring at the entrance won’t make time pass quicker,” Vivienne whispers, arranging butterscotch cupcakes by the pumpkin tarts.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper back, covering the pans with aluminum foil.

Perhaps hiding the pastries, a favourite amongst Spice & Honey shoppers, is not the best business decision, but Eldermont is merely a small town in Upstate New York. If it wasn’t located a thirty minute drive south of the Avengers compound, most people wouldn’t be aware of its presence in the first place. And besides, everybody in Eldermont is connected to everybody — the town holds no secrets, including the pastries you keep warm and frost fresh.

“The tall, dark, and handsome man,” she points out, “still has a few minutes. Perchance the preparations of Eldermont’s Annual Harvest Festival made it trickier to find parking.” Vivienne turns to you with a mirthful grin, the cupcakes resting perfectly positioned in the glass case. “You should invite him. Heard Brad brewed an incredible batch of apple cider mead this year.”

You sigh, snatching the golden tray out of her grasp. “I’m not asking Bucky out.”

“Ah! Bucky!” The woman’s grin widens. “Forgot his name for a second.” Shades of mischief dance in her tone as she marks Elijah’s, the eccentric owner of Marigold Meadows flower shop across the street, special order of fifty maple bacon BLTs as completed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only that you mention Bucky at least seven times a day.”

“Seven’s oddly specific,” you note and swiftly, “also I do not,” disagree.

“Bucky smelled great today,” Vivienne mocks your voice, the grin you’ve come to love—and hate—remaining on her features. “Should I add apple to the cinnamon rolls? I wonder if Bucky would enjoy apple cinnamon rolls with brown butter and maple icing unless he’s a creature of habit. Maybe I should suggest a sprinkle of nutmeg in his coffee to test the waters first—“

“Vivienne,” you groan, yet she persists.

“What’s the worst that could happen? Bucky could say no. Bucky could also choose The Sugared Whisk. Bucky wouldn’t. I adore their croissants, but the coffee is terribly weak, and even their tea selection is mediocre. Indigo should include spiced teas. And sure, Luke's doesn't offer spiced teas, but Luke’s sells great coffee and danishes, except the danishes are only available on Wednesdays.” She recites a recent monologue of yours, and if you weren’t mortified, you’d actually be quite surprised at Vivienne’s ability to remember conversations as if they happened minutes ago.

The doorbell chimes before she has the chance to finish, and you’re highly unsure of whether it’s a saved by the bell kind of situation or if you’d rather the floor magically swallow you whole.

“Good morning.” James smiles, and it’s then that you decide you’d rather the floor split open because you’re awfully flustered by his entrance despite secretly anticipating the moment since the sun arose.

“Hiya, Bucky,” she returns the favour, secretly nudging your side. “Have you ever been to the annual Eldermont’s Harvest Festival?”

“Cannot say I have,” he chuckles, breaking eye contact between the two for just a second to glance at her.

Though you’d never admit it aloud, those eyes, baby blue on sunny days and resembling the ocean on the ones of rain, cross your mind more than a pair of eyes should. This infatuation borders on obsessive, you often contemplate. James Buchanan Barnes is an Avenger for heaven’s sake, and you’re almost sure a man of his maturity and composure wouldn’t agree to a date with a baker, a clutz one at that. It’s not that you’d want to, nevertheless. The two of you have a great thing together — you serve coffee, he survives on coffee, and if time allows, the lighthearted conversations you have bring colours to otherwise monotone days.

“The decorations, the food, the people are phenomenal.” You might have to assign the redhead to kneading duty if she’s heading to that territory. “This beauty right here could take you on a real good tour. Eldermont is gorgeous this time of year.” Enjoy kneading bread, Vivi.

“Is it?” James grins, his stare flicking between you and Vivienne.

“Drop dead,” she reiterates, “much like the women.”

“Vivienne,” you suddenly cut in, “the coffee station is out of paper cups. Could you bring some from the back?”

She gives you another grin, less mischievous and more understanding, nodding at Bucky before she disappears into the kitchen. The heavy wooden doors create a boisterous sound once they close, and you couldn’t be happier for a distraction because you cannot look at the brunette just yet. The bakery is sweltering, and your hands are sweaty, and, if it wasn’t evident you’ve been nurturing a crush on James, Vivienne practically plastered a HEAD BAKER IN LOVE WITH SERGEANT BARNES sign out front.

“The station’s out of cups?”

“Yes!” You glimpse behind the shoulder, deciding to keep the lie alive. “Spice & Honey gets busy during the afternoons, and we run out quickly.” The words leave your mouth rushed and a bit muttered, but the effort is there. “Black coffee and a cinnamon bun?”

“It’s a habit,” his smile is as charming as always. James hesitates for a beat, observing you locate the plastic to-go containers. “The festival Vivienne touched on, have you ever been?”

The atmosphere stills for an awkward second as you gawk at him. “Oh, sure,” you answer at last, praying her babbling wasn’t too obvious because you couldn’t fathom Bucky choosing The Sugared Whisk. “Every year since I was four. The festival’s great. Brad brews the best mead, and Johnny, the mayor, is comically strict about the decorations, so it’s all pumpkins, and string lights, and festive garlands,” you mumble, scrambling for the pan and cream cheese frosting. “I’ve even heard whispers of fireworks this year. It’s next Saturday if you want to drop by. Cassie bakes the best apple pies.”

“Better than yours?”

“I don’t serve apple pies,” averting your eyes to study the grinder seems like the best decision to avoid his piercing gaze.

“I’m sure they’d be the best if you did.” Bucky beams, leaning against the counter as he observes you make coffee.

“Thank you,” the expression of gratitude melts into somewhat of a question despite your best attempts at keeping your voice level, “but the pies I bake often turn out horribly wrong. The apples were overcooked, and the dough raw last time I tried.”

“How undercooked?”

“The trash can enjoyed most of it.”

James laughs at that, the sound of it hearty and endearing. “I’m sure it found the pie delicious.” If he’s flirting with you, you can’t tell, and you don’t exactly want to, for expectations are the fool’s hope. “If you’re not terribly busy during the festival,” he speaks after a protracted moment of doubt, “I’d love to take you up on that tour Vivienne mentioned.”

“Tour?” The man in front of you must almost all but hear your heart pounding rapidly inside your chest.

“The tour of mead, pies, and decorations.”

“Oh?” You tinker with a couple napkins, peering at him. “I’m not sure I could give you a real good tour, I’m barely a guide, believe me. I got lost in that new Target on Cedar Lane, and I cannot understand maps, and—“

“I’m asking you out on a date.” Bucky chuckles at your flustered visage, baby blues never once breaking the eye contact.

“Shit,” the curse word leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and you silently reprimand yourself for the rash impulse of colourful words. “Alright.”

The sergeant titters at your sudden reaction, a shy smile dancing on his lips. “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable. I just thought we might have something between us, chemistry of sorts, and that it might’ve been fun,” he briefly pauses, eyes wild and roaming around your face. “It’s just that Vivienne mentioned Eldermont being gorgeous in the fall, and it got me thinking that I’ve never truly experienced it, because the only thing I visit in this town is your bakery, not that it’s the only place worth visiting—“

“Bucky—“

“There are many stores I should probably check out, and Samuel’s birthday is in a couple of days, which is convenient. I wouldn’t describe Sam and I as the best of pals, but Steve likes him, so I should probably get him a gift.”

“Who’s Samuel?” You ask puzzled, but the flustered soldier standing before you continues to ramble.

“Something small to indicate I remembered but not necessarily care. Something that screams I’m not a total jerk, but you are for reminding the whole compound that your birthday’s on the twenty third. A wooden statue of a bird. Sam likes birds, particularly Redwing, though Redwing’s not technically a bird. A wooden bird statue would certainly insult him, so it’s settled — the plan is to visit Artists & Wood on Land.”

“The shop’s name is Woodland Artistry,” you correct with a gentle smile.

“Right!” James clicks his tongue, studying your softly amused features. “We should probably forget this conversation happened. It was a stupid idea too—“

“Yes,” you interject. “I mean no.” Surely, this scenario is a strange dream that wicked mind of yours created to punish you for the sins you assumably committed in every single one of your previous lives. It’s the only possible explanation for the sergeant’s flustered behaviour. “I would absolutely love to go on a date,” you say and pinch the flesh of your thigh for reassurance, but the scene remains as it was, “with you.”

Gently placing a twenty on the counter, James gleams at you. “I’ve never actually given you my number, have I?”

"No," you shake your head to indicate disagreement, pinching the flesh of your thighs once more. “Only the pleasure of our little chats,” the response makes you wince. The pleasure of our little chats? Something’s definitely wrong with me.

Chuckling, James grasps one of the pens you keep by the cash register and scribbles down a series of numbers on his receipt. "If I don't reply, Steve must be holding me hostage.”

"Duly noted," you grin, folding the piece of paper to tuck it into the back pocket of your denim shorts.

He stands there for a second as if absorbing the situation. “Good. It’s a date, then.” he smiles in the end, taking the coffee and the plastic box, and peeks at you behind his shoulder. “And keep the change, please. These treats of yours are more than worth it.”

A timid smile spreads across your lips at the compliment before you sink your teeth into the soft of your bottom lip, observing the soldier scramble out of the bakery, the phone in his flannel jacket ringing for attention.

“Next time,” the redhead appears beside you once James disappears out of sight with a final wave goodbye, “you should give the man coffee and buns on the house," Vivienne nudges you, "both of them."

A surge of warmth rushes to your cheeks at her innuendo. “It’s great you suddenly possessed the ability to teleport and all, but the dough back there won’t knead itself.”

“No,” she gasps, and you only laugh at her realisation, turning to help the next customer.

It’s a date.

The evening of Eldermont’s harvest festival is pleasant, neither too blazing nor cold, but despite the temperature and the appropriate sundress you’ve chosen for it, you’re on the verge of fainting. I cannot faint on our first date, you think and decide it’s the man next to you’s fault, really. The smell of his cologne is too addicting, the hints of pine and cinnamon in his aftershave too intoxicating. James is a gentleman, which you expected and appreciate, but it’s overwhelming, the way he holds your hand to lead you through crowds and attentively listens to your overdrawn stories about the origins of pumpkin carving. Heavens help me.

“Have you checked out the corn maze yet?” Brad asks cheerfully. He’s surrounded by large beverage urns and stacks of disposable drinkware. “Mary mentioned Elijah’s still in there,” he chuckles, pouring two paper cups full of steaming apple cider mead. “The fool must’ve gotten lost or something.”

“Must’ve,” you glance at him, the corner of your mouth quirking up into a half smile. “Happens every year.”

“The two of you should go,” Brad speaks once again before smiling at Bucky. “It’s a great first date activity.”

James chuckles, and you wonder if he regrets asking you on a date. The small town you call home is ludicrously close, and if Vivienne didn’t spill the beans to Mary as she promised, Mary must’ve spread the ‘rumours’ around herself. The town’s beloved bookshop owner is an incredible woman, but she loves to gossip, and you should’ve expected the second person after Vivienne to consistently insert themselves into your dating life to jump to conclusions. Though the situation isn’t precisely comfortable for you, it must be worse for James. Whilst he has never outright mentioned, the soldier has important reasons to stay under the radar. Bucky has witnessed a lot, horrors you’ve even heard about on the TV, and currently, every resident of Eldermont is aware that James Buchanan Barnes is on a date. With a local baker, nonetheless. Participating in acorn tossing and harvest bingo and conversing with Brad Monty about all kinds of sneaky activities couples get up to in the corn maze. You're certain that James is bound to vanish without a trace due to the town's antics if your diffident and often rather awkward behavior hasn't already scared him away. The anxious parts of your brain have even compiled a mental list of today's disasters:

Johnny wiped his sweaty hands on Bucky’s jacket, realising the blunder only to mumble “I love this jacket, Sergeant Barnes”, and pretending he wanted to initiate a hug before he disappeared.

Cassie offered you a sample of pecan pie, which you eagerly tasted due to Bucky’s “If I had to choose the second best pie after apple, it would be pecan” comment, and completely choked on.

Vivienne located you in the farmer’s market to say “hello”, and persuaded James to purchase a pair of beaded bracelets, the two of you had ridiculed moments earlier, for “every first date needs a souvenir to remember it by”.

James guided you to Mary’s bookstore because you conferred a series of rare hardbacks Mary hides in the back for special customers, and the older woman steered you towards a selection of intimacy guides.

Indigo, The Sugared Whisk owner, pleaded with James for Captain America’s number in the middle of a busy intersection and discussed his “timeless looks” for the next couple of minutes until a car almost struck the three of you.

Elijah phoned you in distress, panicking about “having to live out his best years in a smelly corn maze”, which disturbed the sergeant and resulted in an “Elijah will find the exit eventually” monologue on your side.

You accepted to take a photo of a tourist couple, accidentally dropping the wife’s phone and shattering the screen because James stood so close, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Thanks, Brad,” you fumble with your wallet, hastily placing a ten on the stand. “See you around.”

“Doll,” Bucky doesn’t move once you attempt to remove him from the nightmare that is the situation the two of you found yourselves in. It gives you a second to evaluate his expression, and much to your surprise, his features are as soft as ever. James is blushing, too. “I wanted to pay for that.”

“You paid for the apple pie,” the words slip past your lips mumbled because the only thing you can truly concentrate on is the fact James is blushing. Blushing as a result of Brad’s stories about couples so in love they simply cannot be bothered to locate the labyrinth’s exit before proving their emotions to the world. Couples that could be the two of you. Possibly. A sane person shouldn’t rush to assumptions unless they earned the sweetest nickname from a dream of a man. You’ve never paid much thought to whether you would enjoy being called a ‘doll’—you do, but you would probably adore every label he’d choose. The notion steers your head toward unexpected and dirty waters, and you couldn’t be happier for Brad’s decision to chime in.

“Cassie outdid herself this year,” he nods. “I’m most definitely going to dream about that blackberry pie tonight.”

“Yes,” James agrees never once breaking the eye contact with you. “The pies were delicious, and it was my pleasure to pay. It was me who demanded a tour.”

“You may pay for the maze then,” you smile at him, “but leave the ten — I’m not that great of a tour guide, and I’m afraid of the dark.”

“Dates should be fun,” James suddenly speaks. “We could’ve skipped the labyrinth.”

The corn maze is high and intimidating, but Bucky’s presence and the soft glow of an orange sunset manage to silence your fears a bit. The passages are almost entirely empty except for the two of you, and each corner you take makes your heart jump at the possibility of encountering spooky surprises.

“This is fun,” you reassure, taking a sip of mead. James shoots you a look you cannot truly decipher, but you decide the meaning is somewhere between worried and teasing. “It is,” you hesitate for a beat. “I just keep remembering the haunted corn maze in Greenwood. They have scare actors there, who jump out of the bushes when you least expect it and completely startle you. Vivienne took me there last year, and I cannot shake the memories.”

The expression on his face melts into sympathy. “If it’s any consolation, I would protect you against all the zombies and monsters this maze might throw at us,” he speaks before, “not that it has any,” adding.

“If theme’s anything to go by, I think we’re OK,” you chuckle at his offer, referring to the cutesy signs and charmingly painted pumpkins scattered throughout the labyrinth, “unless Johnny decided to include a couple gory scenes at the end, though it’d end worse for him than it would for me.”

“Johnny The Mayor?”

“Johnny The Mayor,” you take yet another sip, nodding. The beverage is barely warm twenty minutes into the attraction, providing only the comfort of a soft alcohol tipsiness.

“He’s a charming little fella,” Bucky notes, and you don’t have it in yourself to deny the statement. “I’ve never experienced someone initiating a hug by wiping their hands on my jacket.”

“Sorry,” you offer sheepishly because what could you say after an occurrence so bizarre. Everyone in this town is strange? James must’ve caught on to the fact by this time.

“It’s alright, and besides, I now have a humorous story to recount at parties, which is a first,” he gleams at you. “It may come as a surprise, but I’m not usually the life of it.”

“Can I ask you a question?” You shift to gaze at him before emptying the cup of mead to steady your nerves.

“I don’t promise to answer,” James grins, fiddling with the beaded bracelet, “but yes.”

“Who’s Samuel?”

“That’s your question?” He laughs as his flesh arm slithers to rest upon your waist. At least you think it’s his flesh arm. The man wears gloves whether the sun shines or the rain pours. You’ve seen pictures, though, and read stories of The Winter Soldier in possession of a metal arm. Neither raise concern, not for the reason you’re smitten with Bucky. Rather, because James was manipulated and stripped of free will, and if heaven would descend, perhaps because that metal arm is sinfully attractive. It’s a thought forbidden to be mentioned aloud, for the gloves are a large indicator he’d enjoy staying silent about the matter. “Who’s Samuel?”

“Yes,” you sputter. The butterflies his simple action caused you don’t mention. “I want to hear about this Samuel. I’ve been informed he likes birds, especially Redwing, who’s not technically a bird?”

“The Samuel I was babbling about is Sam Wilson. The Falcon, if you’re a fan of CNN,” James teases, steering you into the left pathway of the maze. Despite your instinct to choose right, you stay silent. “Redwing’s a drone of sorts Sam uses on missions, and, this is a direct quote, for surveillance. I despise the thing.”

“If we get lost, forget the second date,” you playfully threaten. Though the coziness of his body pressed to yours is intoxicating, it does nothing to ease the goosebumps painted on your skin, and as the sky bleeds in shades of crimson and purple, the sun melts into the horizon, teasing you for forgetting a sweater. “I would’ve categorised holding a grudge against an object as below you.”

“If the shoe fits,” he chortles, leading you down a long passage before abruptly stopping. Hesitating for a beat, he drapes the flannel jacket you’ve come to love on the man around your body. The garment is red and weighty, and it smells of James. The gesture makes your heart swell with admiration, but you ignore it. Dates should be approached with a blank slate because expectations are easily shattered. “I shouldn’t deliver Steve that woman’s phone number, should I?” Bucky’s arm finds your waist again.

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, “on the bright side, Indigo is quite a pleasant woman,” you verbalise the thought. James observes your expression, baby blues studying the same features he cannot resist thinking about at nightfall. Blood rushes to his cheeks at the notice of your fingers on his lower back, the heat of your skin piercing through his charcoal henley. “She’d certainly treat Captain America right. On the downside,” you pause, “Indigo is the exact opposite of Steve as the media portrays him. Come to think about it, both of us are.”

“How so?”

“The media portrays supersoldiers as courageous, but Indigo and I once had to call Luke to get rid of a teeny spider. Steve’s active in politics, whilst we often skip the town’s meetings—“

“Eldermont holds town meetings?” James chuckles, subconsciously drawing you in closer.

“Once a month, always on the first Tuesday,” you gleam at him before drawing in a deep breath to calm your violently beating heart. “Last time, we discussed the very pressing issue of Halloween decorations. Johnny insists every business on the main street must participate in the festivities. Indigo and I escaped out the back before the mayor could finish his speech. At the least, Steve would’ve stayed in that meeting, and at the most, he would’ve managed it.”

“People do say opposites attract.”

“Heard that before,” you agree. The loose strand of Bucky’s auburn hair tempts you to tuck it behind his ear, but you halt the impulse of committing such a ludicrous decision. “It must be true because you drink coffee black, and I prefer lattes. You have cinnamon buns for breakfast, and I, if time would be gracious enough for breakfast, would choose danishes.”

“The jury’s decided, then.” The corners of his mouth quirk up into a lazy and wickedly attractive smile, and, you almost wonder if Bucky’s aware of the effect he has on your body because if he isn't, your buckling knees must’ve given it away. “Opposites do attract.” His wildly confident attitude is a new discovery, but you decide you like it. “It would be a shame to ignore matters of the universe.” Confidence is a good shade on him.

“Is this your way of asking me on a second date?” You tease the man, memorising the pink hues veiling his cheekbones.

James guides you around the corner, observing the corn maze’s exit, and halts his movements. “Only if the lady agrees,” he shifts to stand before you, catching your forearms in his gloved hands, “which I’m sincerely hoping she does.”

Resting your arms on his shoulders, you gift yourself a quick moment to explore his features — the stubble gently lining his sharp jaw, the little scar above his eyebrow, and the red lips you, despite hiding it, wanted to kiss since he first visited Spice & Honey. “The lady would love to go on a second date.”

“Good,” an emotion you cannot comprehend waltzes in his eyes, but, for the sake of your composure, you abstain from thinking it could possibly be lust. “The gentleman is looking forward to it.” There's an argument happening inside him, you can sense it by the way he keeps drawing you closer until the space between your bodies is virtually erased, but retains his posture straight and almost rigid. The weight of should he or should he not lingers in the air around you before James catches your stare and smiles timidly, shattering the flicker of hope you have for him to kiss you. You don’t exactly yearn for him to kiss you. In theory, kiss-less first dates are a great idea, paving the way for deeper conversations and a closer bond. They build anticipation. Anticipation is good, you ponder for a second, but all you can truly focus on is whether James would taste like apple cider mead or the sugary desserts you two savoured earlier. “The night is still young," he speaks, the tone of his voice light and reticent. "It would be a shame to end the date this early."

“Luke’s open if you want to grab a quick dinner,” you say with a grin, stepping away from him. “Though we should probably exit the maze first.”

“Yes,” Bucky laughs and extends his arm towards the light at the end of the passage. “Lead the way, pretty lady.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x baker reader #bucky x baker!reader #insomniumstella #bucky x reader spice & honey

711 notes · View notes

sunkendreams · 4 months

Note

Grinding, biting, and a corruption kink with a sweet reader~ some nasty smut for one of the lost boys, your choice of who!

eyes on fire.

pairing. | david x fem!reader.

format. | one-shot — requested.

word count. | 4.5K.

warnings. | smut, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), semi-public, risk of getting caught, little bit of corruption kink, fingering (f!receiving), handjob, breast play, making out, dirty talk, pet names (kitten, sweetheart), possessive/obsessive behavior from david, david reading your mind (reader doesn’t know), david is an asshole but he’s really sexy so it’s okay

author’s note. | remember how I said dwayne was my favorite ??? I lied, it’s actually David & I’m obsessed with him on god ,,, I have a ton of David smut sitting around in the docs that’ll get posted, but for now, have this! I’m in my Lost Boys era so I would love more requests for them (especially horny ones)

“Where are we going?”

Your voice emerged like a soft caress, barely making it to David as he coaxed you through the swarm of people. He was insistent on whisking you away to somewhere else — somewhere with less eyes. It was a labyrinth of rancor and thrill, the boardwalk strung-up with flyers for concerts amongst the many ‘missing persons’ leaflets. He was behind you, in front of you, all around — an inescapable haze.

David hadn’t intended to like you, let alone go as far as to express interest. Though, with the prospect of immortality on the line, it had become too tantalizing for him to simply abandon his fantasies. He hovered beside you, one hand firmly pressing into the small of your back as he carefully guided you throughout the pinstriped booths.

Even with the mass of fairgoers, your smell was the one that rose above it all — floral perfume intermingled with clean linens, perhaps a splash of rose-water. David continued to guide you into this maze, and at the very center, it would only be the two of you. As he came to a cluster of carnival booths lined up along a wall, he saw the gap of darkness behind one of them.

“You’ll see.” David murmured, lips ghosting around the shell of your ear. There was something unusually dark to his voice — something tantalizing and dangerous as his tone dropped to an alluring purr. The more that the both of you made your way into this unseen gap, the less noisy it became, but there were still people on the other side of the canvas.

“David?” Your voice hopped up an octave as your surroundings became darker, only to be illuminated by a few slivers of orange light that drifted through the cracks. It was almost as if he’d disappeared, causing goosebumps to coalesce along the column of your spine. It was eerily quiet, save for some distant music and the constant buzz of patrons close by.

His laughter emerged from the shadows, akin to a predator toying with their prey. He could see you, but you couldn’t see him. That little fluctuation of fear settled into your features, coupled with exhilaration as you fumbled around in an attempt to find him. You looked so perfect, wearing a softer-blue dress that made you appear angelic, compared to his black attire.

Your heart began to sing for him, beating erratically within your chest as you clasped your hands together, having another look around. He was hiding from you, but his laughter sounded so near. “David, come on.” Nervousness crept into your shrewd tone — subtle, but most certainly prevalent. “Where’d you go?”

A thump made you jump, nearly crawling from your own skin. You’d gotten used to his constant teasing, but the suspense of not seeing him became a little overwhelming. He couldn’t have been very far away considering the limited amount of space, but you relented, shifting towards the wall.

At last, hands suddenly grabbed at your hips from behind, tugging you against his musculature as you let out a loud yelp. “David!” You gasped, watching as he rounded you, appearing before you with that wolfish grin. Your back was against the wall as he caged you in, hovering above you. His hand came down to grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“There she is.” He uttered, able to make out that doe-like look you often had. Your pupils were dilated, chest heaving with heavy heartbeats as you calmed down from your healthy dose of fear. David had been toying with you for several days — fortunately for you, he was prepared to end your torment.

“Don’t do that again,” You mumbled, listening to his beguiling laughter as he pressed his stubbled mouth against your shoulder. It was always everywhere but your lips, which had become somewhat infuriating. You’d been itching to kiss him. “Please.”

David enjoyed reading your mind — especially those that involved him. You were particularly upset about the lack of kissing, sexually frustrated, often fantasizing about all of the things he could do to you. He intended on honoring that — he wanted to indulge himself, too.

“Anger doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.” David sneered, and in reality, he felt the opposite. He just enjoyed seeing you get all defensive and haughty in an attempt to make yourself more intimidating. You could never be intimidating to him. You were his pet. Pets were meant to be cute and docile — loyal, above all else.

As footsteps passed by, you became nervous, having a glance around. “David, what if someone catches us back here? Maybe we should go somewhere else.” You protested, but he only pushed you back against the wall with a guttural snarl. That sound terrified you in the best way possible, causing a soft gasp to escape you.

“Are you scared?” He murmured, subtly invoking a challenge. David was testing the waters, seeing if you’d shy away from his intentions. He caressed your lower lip with his thumb, as he’d done so many times before. The way your heart raced was music to his ears.

You shook your head, gaze flickering toward his lips. His mouth was perfect — you wanted to taste him. He was snug against you, body to body, heart to heart, feeling your warmth bleed into him as it rolled from you in waves. David smelled like an amalgamation of cigarettes, cologne, and that familiar coppery twang.

David pressed closer, lips mere breaths away, and you wanted to beg him for a kiss — for anything. His chuckle was sly and deliciously seductive, gaze becoming half-lidded as those crystalline irises drank you in, over and over. “You should be.” He uttered, dragging you in as he pressed his mouth against yours.

Through the dark haze of your surroundings, those little flickers of light pierced through, providing slim illumination. You could still see David, but not nearly as well as you hoped. As one hand squeezed your chin, the other fell to cup the curve of your waist, thumb digging into the fragile flesh there.

Your hands clamored to find their purchase, grasping at the dark, textured sweater underneath his trenchcoat. David suddenly stepped forward with you in-tow, pinning you against the rickety wooden wall. A gasp escaped you in between heated kisses, feeling his teeth nick the supple skin of your lower lip.

He could smell you — that familiar, feminine aroma of arousal as it began to coagulate between your plush thighs. David licked his lips, and for a moment, he reminded himself that you weren’t a vampire. You were still fragile and breakable — if he wasn’t somewhat careful with you, he’d hurt you.

A strangled whimper tore past your parted lips as his gloved palm brazenly groped your breast, gauging your smitten reaction. “Poor, poor girl,” David purred, pressing a string of hot, greedy kisses along your jaw. “No one’s taken care of you, have they?” He murmured, nipping at your jugular.

A squeak of surprise left you as David became a little rougher, but you didn’t know what you should’ve expected. Getting involved with him meant stepping into that gritty, domineering aspect of sex, and you weren’t about to refuse him. You keened into his touch, fingers curling into his sweater.

Leather-clad fingers audaciously jerked at the fabric around your pliant chest, producing a slight tearing sound. A resonant growl rumbled throughout David’s chest as he slipped his palm around your bare breast, teasing and tugging at your nipple until you were mewling — it was fitting, given the nickname he had for you.

David trailed his mouth upward, from neck to your lips, hungrily attaching themselves to yours once more. His kiss was ravenous, passionate — it was as if he were caught in some frenzied state. A soft moan left you as he continued to knead your breast, one hand skirting to rest around your throat.

He squeezed, gloved digits tensing on either side of your slender neck as he applied pressure. There was a sudden flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, a sense of intrigue — you’d never felt something quite like this before. A sharp and sudden sensation rippled throughout your lower lip as teeth sliced flesh.

“Sorry,” David smirked, gaze glistening with sheer lust and desire. “You’ve got such pretty lips.” He uttered, and could smell the singular droplet of blood that bubbled atop the soft flesh of your lower lip. His jaw tensed, and without hesitation, he careened in for another kiss, open-mouthed as he lapped at the blood.

Arousal hit you like a heavy haze, stomach churning with anticipation as a liquid heat pooled between your thighs. Whatever David was doing, no matter how brazen and primal it was, it made you want to melt within his grasp. A moan escaped you, lost between another barrage of heated kisses.

His tongue traced across your lower lip before he not so-gently sought entry into your mouth, letting out a low, rumbling chuckle when you gasped. David could tell that you weren’t used to any of this, but that made it all the more sweeter. He relished in that starstruck look you had, eyes wide and akin to a startled doe.

With a pitiful whine, your throat bobbed beneath his palm, pulse racing at the speed of light. Your fingers began to roam and wander, wanting to feel even a mere inch of his skin. David knew how desperate you were, and normally, he’d want you to work for it — but this was your first, and he was feeling particularly merciful.

Your smell was becoming unbearable — in a good way. David could sense the way your body bent for him, turned malleable within his hands. The pad of his gloved thumb pressed just above your pulse point, listening to that erratic beating of your heart.

“David,” You gasped, letting out a soft moan when he pried his mouth away from yours, peppering a string of greedy, voracious kisses along your collarbone. Your soft, warm fingertips slid underneath his sweater, feeling along the taut plane of his musculature. He was cold, but it wasn’t unpleasant. “David, please.”

Heat coursed throughout your body, a consuming fire, burning bright within the pit of your stomach. Whatever flame of arousal David sparked within you, it demanded to be extinguished. Your cunt clenched pathetically around nothing at all as you felt one of his hands grab at your haunch.

“Please what, kitten?” David murmured, voice dark and salacious, like the lull of a siren. He could smell your desire as it pooled between your thighs. You whimpered when his teeth scraped across your collarbone, snagging a portion of your flesh. Saliva coalesced within his maw as he prepared to bite.

The hand that held your throat flew to your breast again, kneading and groping as he bit down, leaving behind a rather angry bite mark. If you were to look closely enough, the incisors seemed abnormally long — thankfully, you were masked by darkness. Rivulets of crimson trickled toward your heaving chest.

David snarled, hastily licking and kissing his way around your breasts, lapping at whatever blood trickled onto his tongue. You tasted divine — akin to the forbidden fruit. The yelp and moan that escaped you rolled into one pleasurable sound. It stung for a moment, but David was swift to kiss the pain away.

“O—Oh,” Shock fluttered across your face when you noticed David brazenly lapping at the inklings of blood. It was strange, initially — but when he lifted his head, lips stained with a light crimson, his cerulean irises were now a vibrant, burnished gold. “Your eyes.” You thought you were going crazy.

Another delicious laugh escaped him, and he quickly licked his lips as if he’d had the most delectable meal. “Just the light, sweetheart.” He murmured, and angled himself in a different direction, conveniently into the sliver of orange that trickled through the canvas. They were blue again — icy and penetrating.

Maybe you were going crazy.

“Lift your dress up.”

David’s voice was an alluring command — he wasn’t asking. His countenance was wrought with lust, gaze burning a hole right through you as he hastily scanned your thoughts. They were tantalizing and rather amusing — just a jumbled maze, thinking about him, predominantly. That familiar smirk had diminished, making the moment more intense.

You swallowed the lump within your throat, breath hitching as your hands fumbled toward the hem of your ruffled dress. Your pace was completely and utterly sluggish, as if you were moving at the speed of a snail, which amused David. He was staring at you again — you were a feast for the eyes.

“Don’t make me wait.” David uttered, nudging his knee in between your legs, forcing them to part as he rucked up your dress for you. Goosebumps erupted across your flesh, crawling over the column of your spine as he tilted inward, pressing his lips against yours. “Hm.”

A breathy whine escaped you as he dragged his hand along your stomach, lifting one hand towards his mouth. Pearlescent teeth sank into the leather as he removed one glove, flesh ice-cold as he teased the waistband of your panties. “David,” You shuddered, both excited and scared of getting caught. “Please.” You panted.

David chuckled next to your ear, forcing you to look at him with his other hand. Leather-clad digits swept across your chin. “Is this what you wanted?” He purred, lips pressing against the corner of his mouth. “Use your words, kitten.” He murmured, reveling in your mesmerized expression.

“Yes, I—I want you to touch me,” Your voice was desperate, high-pitched with a needy whine as you stared at David, whose lips curled into a salacious grin. “Please, David. I want you.” A soft whine left you as he dipped his fingers underneath the thin cotton fabric.

Desire rippled through you just as it did through him, hot and heavy as it burned between you both. “I like your manners.” He whispered into your ear, playfully biting at the sensitive shell. With that, his hand deftly traveled to that aching warmth between your legs, icy digits tracing across your slit.

Your body reacted violently, hips jolting into the sensation of his hand. You fumbled to hold onto him, fingers clamoring to grasp his chest and bicep. Those dexterous digits slipped against your cunt, savoring the heat that oozed from it. You were soaked — it was almost embarrassing how aroused you were.

David chuckled, withdrawing his fingers, much to your dismay. They glistened with your slick, and you nearly collapsed into a pile of nothingness as he placed them into his mouth, lewdly savoring your taste. “Hm,” He sneered, eyes alight with an intensity. “Is that all for me?”

“Y—Yes,” You nodded several times over, licking your lower lip. A coppery twang was still present, fainter than before. “Yes.” You said it again, watching the way he grinned like a sharp-toothed predator. You waited with bated breath as his hand went right back into your panties, thumb grinding against your clit.

He stopped toying with you so much, fingers finding a rather voracious rhythm as they slid along your cunt, thumb drawing circles around your clit. You were so sensitive, like a live wire — virgins always were. David kissed you again, tongue dragging across your lower lip as he let you lean against him.

“You’re mine,” David uttered, digits drifting toward your slick entrance. The unfamiliar sensation left you gasping, sputtering for more as he began to sink two fingers inside of you, sluggishly working you open. He chuckled when you moaned, kissing along your jugular with a frenzy. “Say it.” He growled.

A shiver of delight rolled through your spine, coupled with that continuous oozing of warmth that pooled between your legs. David began to pump two fingers in and out of your needy cunt, thumb continuing to work wonders against your clit. The sounds you made were incredible — especially those little whimpers of yours.

“M’yours,” You slurred, idly rolling your hips with those rhythmic strokes of his hand. The shrill screaming of fairgoers still echoed around you, and a ruffling of the canvas backing of a tent nearly made you squeak. David squeezed your chin, demanding that you look at him as he finger-fucked you into submission. “Yours, David.” You groaned, wanting to pull his platinum-blonde locks.

David chuckled at how quickly you said it — your body responded to his touch as if you were made for him. Your heavy scent invaded his senses, making his maw pool with saliva. He nearly considered taking another bite from you in the midst of all this, but he knew better than to get greedy. He didn’t want to kill you so soon. “Good girl.” He uttered, watching as you keened into his hand.

His fingers were divine — David had a way of subduing you through it, drawing out the most intimate parts of you. Those pale cerulean hues remained fixated upon you, lips curled into a slight sneer as he attempted to squeeze a third digit inside of you. You were tight — cunt snug around his fingers as he pistoned in and out, glistening with a sheen of your juices.

That knot of liquid heat inside of your stomach began to unravel, bringing with it a white-hot pleasure that made your knees shake. David let you lean against him, wanting to keep you aloft as he licked at your lower lip again, gathering a singular pearl of crimson that beaded from your tender flesh. “David!” You whined, chasing after that sensation.

Your cunt throbbed with excitable pangs, and you nearly cried out again when David’s thumb flicked over your clit, drawing vigorous circles around the bundle of nerves. He could tell that you were getting close — the scent was enough to drive him into a frenzy.

Heat crawled across your flesh, which felt borderline feverish as David let you ride his hand, dress rucked up around your hips. The pace in which he fucked you with his fingers was rhythmic and passionate — he wasn’t about to leave you with nothing at all. He laughed again when your hips bucked forward, clawing at his chest as you clung to him.

“Getting a little greedy, aren’t we?” David purred, noticing that glazed, lustful look in your eyes as you reached your pinnacle. Your orgasm was akin to being bathed in a pleasurable fire, everything felt good. A buzz formed within your stomach as you came, chest rising and falling with quick pants. “Hm.” One whiff of you, and David had to restrain himself.

He withdrew his fingers from you, and again, treated you to a most sinful sight as he sucked on his middle digits, face screwed into one of amusement. You looked blissed-out, lips parting as he careened forward. “That was …” You couldn’t properly describe the way he made you feel.

“Thank me for it,” David mused, trapping your chin within his gloved hand. “I’ve got something else for you, kitten.” His voice became deliciously husky as he offered you one of his fingers. You swallowed the lump within your throat, heart beating erratically as you slowly opened your mouth. “Good.” He crooned.

Embarrassment rippled through you as you gently sucked on his index finger, able to taste yourself — though, you assumed that was what David wanted. Judging from the burning stare he was giving you, he was enjoying himself. A soft whimper left you when he pressed on your tongue, and you listened to that familiar, wolfish chuckle of his.

When he made you stop with a simple squeeze of your jaw, you whimpered, flesh feeling so incredibly warm. “Thank you.” Admittedly, David had done more than you thought he would, all things considered. Though, you felt as if you needed to return the favor. “Would you want me to touch you, too?” You asked, keeping your voice hushed.

David grinned, sliding the leather glove back over his hand as he flexed it once or twice. “Would I want you to?” He asked incredulously, prepared to tease you. Instead, he found himself enticed by your innocence and demure demeanor. “What do you think, sweetheart?” His voice dropped into another low growl.

“Yes?” You asked, and David simply gestured toward his belt with a flicker of those cerulean hues, wanting to see what you’d do. You hadn’t done something like this before, but you wanted to please David more than anything else. With hesitant hands, you gently grappled the studded, black belt he wore, quietly unfastening it. You wondered if he’d instruct you further.

“Do I need to talk you through it?” David sneered, head cocked to one side as he playfully grazed his sharp teeth across your jaw. You shuddered, digits stuttering as you moved to unbutton the front of those black, ragged leather pants. You were afraid of disappointing him and making a fool of yourself.

You very nearly said yes, stomach churning with anticipation as he began to plant hungry kisses along your neck. Teeth nicked your flesh, and you could feel his predatory grin against your jugular. You were visibly flustered as you handled him as if he would break, which David found amusement in.

Freeing his cock from the confines of snug, tattered leather, you stopped, gaze fluttering toward his pale features as he let out another harsh bark of sly laughter. “Don’t be shy.” David purred, encouraging you in his own way. He had no intention of ridiculing you for your inexperience — in fact, it enticed him more than anything else.

With a soft exhale, you began to drag your soft palm across the base of his cock, stroking up toward the head in a series of sluggish, experimental motions. You watched David’s face, noticed the way his smugness was curbed just a little bit. You kept quiet, continuing to pump your hand along his length.

A series of grunts escaped him, and he became unusually devoid of words. The noises he made were tantalizing, causing you to shiver as you continued to touch him, caressing your thumb across the head of his cock. He trapped your lower lip between his teeth, giving you another hot, open-mouthed kiss.

Your ministrations became invigorated, sharp and swift as you found a heavier rhythm. David growled, grinding against your bare thigh, with your dress still pooled around your hips. With one hand, you reached for his platinum tresses, tracing your fingers through as you grabbed a fistful.

David’s wicked chuckle made you bristle, lips melding with yours in a greedy, consuming kiss. You relinquished control to your pale-headed paramour, continuing to stroke his cock with eager thrusts of your hand. He knew that he wouldn’t get off to just your hand — it was too early to put you on your knees, but the thought had crossed his mind.

His stubbled, scruffy visage scratched against your face, and the sensation was unusually pleasant. Your hand never slowed, hoping that you were pleasing him in a valiant attempt to reciprocate. You felt his cock twitch within your hand as a pearl of precum beaded from the tip, prompting you to swipe at it with your thumb.

“Good girl,” David uttered, knowing that if you continued, he’d likely lose all of his self-restraint. You enjoyed touching him, reluctantly removing your hand from his cock. You stopped, but he was staring at you expectantly. “The work isn’t completely finished.” He mused, noticing the lick of heat that saturated your skin.

With a soft ‘oh’, you made sure to fix him up, straightening his clothes and buckling his belt again. He was still painfully hard as he grinded into your thigh, pressing a sultry kiss against your jaw. David flicked the strap of your dress back over your shoulder, and happened to scan your mind.

For such an innocent creature, your thoughts were everything but — the idea of corrupting you was delicious. It was filth and sin all intertwined together, and you wanted so much more. David was prepared to provide, but he wanted to let it simmer again. It was best if he hunted and regained his own composure before attempting to corrupt you and suck the sweetness right out of your marrow.

As he squeezed your chin, David leaned off of you, steering you away from the darkness and toward the gap of light up ahead. “I have somewhere very special to show you next time.” He fully intended on taking you to the cave — he’d claim you, then.

“Where is it?” Your voice was indicative of excitement as he lingered around the fringes of the gap you’d gone in to begin with. You didn’t want to put any label on this — you weren’t certain if this was a date. At any rate, you thoroughly enjoyed whatever this was — the heat, the tension that flew between you.

“You’ll see,” David purred, pausing within the gap that led back out to the boardwalk. “It’ll be a pleasant surprise.” He assured you, stopping to trail his fingers across your cheek. Those pale, icy hues studied you for a moment, drinking in the sight of your humanity, your fragility — beating heart and saccharine blood pumping within your veins, the warmth radiating from you.

Immortality would suit you, but he’d certainly miss your many mortal qualities. Perhaps, he’d keep you like this for a while, his sweet little human. David often shared with his brothers, but you were something he coveted, longed to keep just for himself. Like so many times before, he traced his gloved thumb across your lower lip.

You wanted to kiss him again, just one more time before you’d have to leave and go home. “Thank you for tonight, David.” You whispered, hands gently curling into the woolen plane of his sweater. David’s smirk made you shiver as he cupped your jaw, eyes flickering toward your now-healing lip.

Enraptured, David decided to let you come to him, watching as you stretched up to reach his mouth. Your lips melded with his, and he took it a step further, shamelessly deepening the kiss as he held you close. A low growl reverberated throughout his chest, causing you to shiver as he pinched your chin.

“I’ll see you soon, kitten.” He smirked, sly laughter rippling through him as he stepped away, strolling into the crowd that hadn’t an inkling of what the two of you were doing in the darkness.

As you watched David walk away, your head swam with him — his voice, the sound of his devilish laughter, those piercing eyes — but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else. Even after he disappeared completely, assimilating into the masses, all you could think about was a pair of golden eyes.

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys 1987 #tlb david x reader #the lost boys x you #slasher x y/n #slasher fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #sunkendreams masterlist

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rinbowaman · 7 months

Note

helloo this is my first time writing an anonymous thing or smth but can you write a scenario where heethan and readen are about to yk.. and readen suddenly ran away but heethan still catched her and gave her the most toe curling car yk..?

Warnings: cat and mouse vibes, chasing, capturing, predator vs prey vibes, slight bit of non/dub con, very detailed smut, hint of rough smut, unprotected smut, breeding kinks, overstimulation, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, finger popping (you know what that means....) dom! heethan (what else?....ofc he'll be dom!) and sub! readen. There is a small audio bit in this, just of breathing but still.... (NSFW) nothing too exaggerated just..i wouldn't listen in public, at least not without headphones.

Also, thank you to those of you that donated to my ko-fi!!!! Just for that, I made this smut extra good, so i hope you guys like it. This one.....if you want the full effect, maybe get your favorite treat and read this at night in your bed. 😉 I put a little bit more time into this one to reflect my appreciation for the donations. Enjoy!

ko-fi account ♥️

"Tonight was fun."

"heh, yeah." smirking, he responds teasingly while he drives on, keeping his eyes on the long country road as night falls. You both spent the evening enjoying dinner and a movie, deciding to finish it off with some stargazing at your favorite spot, the quaint and charming farm that he took you after you shared your first night with him.

Pressing down the button, you roll down the window and stick your hand out, allowing the air speed through your fingers. It felt warm, relaxing, and massaged your skin as you waved them against the current flow.

Parking the car, he shuts it off and leaves his door open to allow the fresh air to come in. You did the same. Staring through the windshield, you found it hard to gain a wide view of the stars, so you suggested sitting atop the hood, still warm from the running engine.

You both lay, side by side, and admired the cast of twinkling glimmers that sparked the dark canvas of the black horizon. There were even shooting stars, all of which you made your wishes, and hoped that someday they'd be granted.

"What did you wish for?" he calmly asks as he continues to stare off into the abysmal sky, resting his head on his hands.

"I can't tell you." you chuckled out. "It won't come true."

"That's a myth. Tell me." he smirks out. "Besides, we both know that any wish you make, i'm the one that's going to make it come true for you."

You reluctantly nodded, and opened up wholeheartedly as you elaborate the details of your wish. "I wished to be loved no matter what."

Turning his head to the side, he gives you a perturbed look as he tells you in his deep voice. "That goes without question. I'm always going to love you no matter what."

"yeah but...."

"but? there's a but? what the...." sitting up, he jolts out of his relaxed position and looks down as you shift your position and prop yourself on your elbows.

"I just...just in case you ever stopped loving me....I hope that someone will continue to love me. that's all."

".......that’s….” with a stern gaze forming in his eyes, he huffs out, “that won't happen. It’s impossible, I'll always love you."

"I know...but just in case-"

"But nothing!....what the Hell is wrong with you?" his tone started to reflect a flare of offense and annoyance. You gazed at him with a harmless countenance, you weren't trying to go out of your way to get him mad, you were just being honest. However, seeing the chaotic glare in his eye caused you to start shifting away, inching towards the outer edge of the hood, preparing to run. Sitting up and leaning against his palms, his eyes move around, and he notes your retracted movement in the opposite direction. Licking his lips and furrowing his brows, he issues a slight nod, antagonizing you as he speaks.

"Trying to get away?"

You gasped out with wide eyes. His words triggered you to make your move, the sudden flash of fear pinged you when you saw the malice in his eyes. Immediately, you rushed out and started to run out into the open field. You didn't know where you were running to, or where to go, all that you needed to know was that he was angry and you had to get away. Trailing through the wide open pasture, you barely made any distance before you felt the harsh grip on your wrist and a pull on your waist.

"Ah! Let go!"

Flinging you around, maintaining his hold, he drags you back into the car, nearly tossing you in the backseat. You desperately tried to open the door closest to you, but forgot that he had child lock features installed so that moments such as this, you wouldn't get away.

"Come here you fucking…!" he darkly issues as he grabs onto your arms, taking advantage of how your floral mini dress rose up to your upper thighs, revealing more skin, and allowing him easy access to the spot that would bring your will down, and break you.

"Stop! Heeseung I didn't mean anything by it! Why are you doing this?!" you yelp out, trying to push his hand away as he drags it against your thigh, going upwards and under the hem of your dress, while the other firmly loops over your waist, and locks on to your opposite wrist.

"Oh baby....you think after all that, you have the right to ask such a stupid question?.....OBVIOUSLY....i must not be showing you enough love...or making my love well known for you to think that i would ever stop loving you. hm?" he taunts out as he slaps your hand away and shoves his own in between your legs, all the while giving you a harsh stare.

Gripping on to your delicate panties, he feeds his fingertips through the mesh of the damask lace pattern, and begins to tear it to shreds, leaving tattered bits and pieces to pitifully drape around your right thigh. From there, it all went downhill.

First, he shoots his hand up and immediately penetrates your womanhood, using his two main fingers. It stung and was quite painful initially, yet immediately transitioned to a throbbing sense of pleasure as he thrusted them in and out slowly, causing you to grow moist. Taking his time to stroke them repeatedly, secreting the moisture of pleasure and pain mixed together, he pops his fingers out, reinserts, and repeats. As they nested inside your gripping walls, he waves them up and down, emitting a faint sense of pressure and relief as he pushes then upwards, massaging your walls before retracting them back down.

"Ah! Stop! Stop that!" The feeling was oddly pleasing, yet he took out his frustration as he harshly pressed against the softness of your interior muscles, sliding outwards, adding pressure towards the entrance and popping out when exiting. "Stop!!!" you screamed out, trying to wiggle your wrist free from his firm grasp, however, to no avail were you able to free yourself from his grasp. Maneuvering you to keep your thighs fully separated, he shifts legs to spread apart, using his kneecaps and thighs to guide you open, allowing him extended leverage to keep up with his performance.

He finally pauses, though it was obvious that it wasn't out of honoring your pleads. Because the second you felt his hand gripping your neck, you knew that he had other activities in mind, which he carried out....beautifully.

Swinging you over, he pins you on your back as he forcefully keeps you immobile. Rolling the top bit of your dress down, pulling the straps loose and exposing your breasts, he rolls the skirt upwards. The dress fitted you like a glove, and was made of a thin fabric that allowed him to nicely coil it around your waist without any excess bulk to interfere in exposing your entry, leaving you nearly fully ready for him to take. Placing gentle kisses along your skin, he trails his lips down, starting with the center of your abdominal core, down to your belly button, and reaching the center of your pelvic muscles.

Gasping out, your body shoots up, chest high towards the sky, yet was pushed back down and restrained from any further movement as he maintained his grasp around your pretty little neck. "He-Heeseung!" you yelled out. You were beginning to feel your body succumbing to the effects of his harsh love, it was thrilling and sensational. So much, that you started to wave your hips up and down the closer he got towards your spot, yearning for more.

His gentle kisses leave a line of wet prints on your skin, that delicate sound of his tender pecks fills the car and you reach up, grabbing onto the seats, desperate to dig your fingers into anything while you bear the weight of his sexual thrill.

Reaching the most tender piece of you, he hovers over your clit with parted lips, but does not initiate physical contact...not yet. Instead, he exhales his hot breath to coat over your slit, the very tip of his nose grazes against you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your back bends into a sharp arch, you dig yourself into the seat, head first, as you slur your moans. A slight bit of drool escapes the corner of your lips, all the while he continues to tease you and breathes out the hot vapors of his exhales onto your opening.

Flickering the tip of his tongue, he repeatedly taps it against your slit, at fast pace, occasionally twirling the very tip of it in circles against your clit. Starting off in tiny motions, he expands the width of his movements and slowly envelops your entire opening, the plush folds of skin including, and sucks it all in. The slight bit of pressure upon feeling him sucking on your entire womanhood was unlike anything you ever felt. The warmth of his saliva, the tapping of his tongue, and the softness of his cheek meshed into a beautiful melody of sensations.

Inserting his tongue in, you feel it slip inside and using the same circular motions, he smooths over your walls with repeated movement, massaging every interior inch of you.

Your hips buck up, and your thighs and rear cheeks begin to shake violently, you are barely able to catch your breath as they become shortened and increase in pace. Developing a hyper reaction, your blood pressure rises as you feel your heart soaring, as if it was about to burst out of your chest. A prickling tingle emerges at the bottom of your feet, while the throbbing numbness and vigorous pulsation of pleasure pounds your entire lower region. Choking out hitched gasps, you moaned out hysterically as he continued to show you his love.

Breaking slightly away, he admires your glazed womanhood under half lazy lids, before placing a soft and sweet kiss directly at the center, sending your mind out of this world. With the swipe of his tongue, he drags the tip upwards, and slowly trails it all the way up in between your breasts. Cupping the mounds in his hands, he softly tenderizes them with his tongue. He pelts them with his kisses, and pinches them with his nibbles.

Leaving small marks of his affection in your skin, your chest becomes a colorful canvas that contains hues of purple, red, and pink by the time he finishes. With subtle bite marks, he licks over them, leaving moist kisses with drops of excess saliva to coat over each tooth print. Shooting up towards the nook of your neck, he buries his face in, latching on with his mouth as he commits to giving it the same treatment as your breasts had succumbed to. His hat peels off upon the bill pressing against your head and falls to the floor, allowing him to shove his face deeper against your skin. Moaning aloud, you slam your hands on his arms and grip for dear life upon feeling the swift motions of his tongue gliding over your skin. His hips join your movements and dips low into your groin, waving upwards as he slowly dry thrusts in between your legs. Twirling his fingers around the shredded bit of your lace panties that barely clung onto your thigh, he spirals the threaded pieces, toying with the fabric as he plays with it while he continues to dip into your nude cavity hard, and deep.

Bucking your hips up against him, you break and admit defeat. No words were needed, just the simple gesture of your yearning was enough to trigger him to bring out the beast. Propping himself up, he lifts your frame and shifts your position once more, nearly flinging you atop as he holds onto you tightly, and guides you to straddle his lap. Spreading his legs wide, he pulls you in, chest to chest, face to face…

Preparing for what was about to come, your thighs shake violently and you frantically grab onto his broad shoulders. He was already beginning to buck his hips, holding you down as he firmly squeezed onto the right cheek of your derriere. Flinging your head back, your hair draping down and blankets over his hand, you leave your throat exposed and dead center to his sight as you perform your own movements by grinding against his clothed member. How does it always come to this? How does he always have this effect on you? Knowing damn well that it all started with you running out of fear when he dispelled his psychotic gaze. Yet, as contradicting it may have seemed to others, there was something about it all that made you love it…love him. Even when he looked fearsome, demented, and just downright demonic, his touch and his physical nature towards you, was the complete opposite. There were times, where his murderous gaze scared you to no ends, but looking at you with those maniacal eyes….as he fucks you….kisses you…and tells you that he loves you to no boundaries….you wondered if there was something wrong with him…or if there was something wrong with you for enjoying it. Either way, you didn’t care, because the feeling was too good. The way his soft and dashing face could transition and switch to one that stabs your spirit, the stuff nightmares are made out of, yet his hands and love was desiring to give you pleasure, it all made you want to scream out at the top of your lungs. Nobody will ever understand, especially since that murderous tone in his face, when set on others, contained the intent on harming, destroying, and doing the most unthinkable to them…but when set on you?....It was the exact opposite. With you, the pain was always with pleasure, never to harm you. The bites always came with a kiss, to bring you back from the fear he instilled in you. The forceful restraints were paired with tender strokes, to gesture his desire to protect and shelter you from the world. His look…that psychotic, thrilling, and malicious glare in his eyes….always came with a gentle tone in his voice…to express his unconditional love for only you.

Feeding his cock out of his trousers, he taps it against your folds and clit, slapping it hard and in repeated beats as he taunts you with his words.

“You still need me to convince you?” tilting his head up, brushing his nose and lips against your throat, he speaks against your skin as he leaves tiny kisses in the center. You didn’t need any convincing. You knew…you always knew…but maybe, just a reminder wouldn’t hurt.

Nodding, you feel his lips smile against the underside of your chin as he chuckles. “Oh yeah?” he says with a deep….dark voice. “Let me make it clear to you then…”

Shoving himself in, he was harsh and forceful in his entry, though it wasn’t called for considering he had you melting for more of his touch. But the roughness added more to his vigor than what you were prepared to take, yet was grateful to receive. The feel of his hands suddenly gripping your waist, pulling you down while he buries his face into your neck once more, you tilt your head further back as you feel him sliding in, inch by inch. The best had yet to come, but the delightfulness of that feeling when he was all the way in, and rested you on top of his groin, fully sealing your skin with his as he waves his hips against you. Keeping you seated on the base of his pelvis, he motions your hips to wave back and forth as he did the same, causing your skin to rub together, meshing the beads of sweat to formulate one harmonious concoction. After widening your entry with his movements, he digs his fingers into your skin, and with his firm hold around the narrow part of your waist, he slowly lifts you up. As you rise, you slowly feel the relief of his thickness exiting, but knew that this was only just the beginning. Little by little, the girth of his length narrows down, until just the very tip of his head barely exists between your plush folds….and then he brings you down.

“AHHHHHH!!!!”

Screaming out your moans, you swore you saw stars as he eradicates all sense of gentleness and slowness in his act. Now, everything was replaced with speed, finesses, passion, and intense ferocity as he combines the efforts of pulling you down, and raising your hips back up while he bucks his hips, violently thrusting into you. That raging peak of high hits your cavity as you feel the opening of your cavity pulsating, opening and closing around his shaft. Your walls push together, enclosing around his girth and clenching for dear life as he continues to penetrate, going in deeper and harder. He was so abrasive and crazy with his motions, yet you loved it. Relentlessly panting, you dig your fingers into his shoulders as you raise a hand and plaster your palm against the ceiling of the car. Bouncing away, your body drums out an image of intense pleasure as your breasts shake, your derriere trembles, and your hair remains levitated from the stirrings of his energy. Sucking on your neck, he remains latched on and continues to go harder and deeper, listening to the sounds of your whimpering and constant screams of pleasure, all sounding like music to his ears.

HIs hands remain plastered on your skin, yet snake their way around your waist, onto your lower back, and down to the plumpness of your exposed derriere, where he squeezes his grab and subtly digs his fingers in. Using his newfound hold on you as leverage, he lifts your cheeks in unison, before mashing them back down and repeating, all in sync with his thrusting momentum. God, you loved it when he did that. You also loved it when he extended his thumbs, and stroked your skin as he continued to squeeze your cheeks harder, just like he was doing right now. Or when he picked up the pace, and went faster, harder, and thrusted in deeper, just like he was doing…right now. You also loved it, when he kept going…and going…and going…and finally, that sharp, tingling sense below your belly button explodes and your opening dilates violently around his throbbing cock as he continues to thrust, squelching all the moisture that secretes from your body and creates the fine, clear foam and thick creamy mess that sticks to your skin and rings around his shaft. Your toes curl, your fingers lose feeling and your nerves feel the shattering effect of fireworks as the numbness comes and goes, and all the blood rushes through your body. Choking on your gasps, you moan and whimper as he continues to thrust, despite you already releasing, because it wasn’t over yet.

Thrusting and grinding into you, he keeps up and never loses his momentum. Pumping into you over and over again, you felt his fingers digging in, his hands shake in their grip, and his breathing escalates. Tapping into your soft spot, he thrusts faster and faster, his breathing grows in sync with his pending release...

“Oh fuck…come here!” Wrapping his arm around your lower back, he brings you closer as he leans forward and shoves his face into your breasts and groans loudly as he pins you down, grinding his groin against you while fully resting his cock inside. Gasping out his deep voice onto your areola, his shaft pulsates against your walls, groaning in sync with each load he shoots out. Calming himself, his breathing starts to relax as he gently licks and sucks on your breasts; rubbing your soft skin with his hands while he keeps you steady, warming and comforting his member as he remains inside you. He doesn’t stop grinding, he keeps it going, slowly and deeply, until finally, he’s empty. Everything he had, he gave to you, and seals it by keeping you stuffed with his muscle until he knows that his essence is going to remain and not ooze out. Embracing you, he shoots a hand up your back, and delicately grabs onto the back of your neck. Gently tilting your head to the side, he pulls your head down, and exposes the soft spot beneath your ear, where he latches on and sucks the skin in, drifting off to sleep…just a small nap to recuperate before he takes you back to the frat house. Who knows, maybe he’ll be ready to convince you some more, after all, you did make a wish to be loved, no matter what. Fortunately for you, he’s more than willing to make that wish come true.

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

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dailyhatsune · 1 month

Note

hi! not exactly a request but i do wanna ask, whats your process when you're rendering more paint like art? (if that makes sense, English isnt my first language so apologies hdskhsjdbd) i really love how you use the colors and im curious how you do it :0

i’ve been meaning to answer this one for a while so here’s how i painted miku in today’s post (put under the read more because yeah prepare for a long post

i’d also like to preface this by saying that i never follow a set way of doing things, so in terms of what my personal process is like, these are only broad strokes of what i do! sometimes i’ll combine or skip parts entirely, depending on how i feel. also, this is not a tutorial, just how i do things, so please don’t treat it like one :’D this will read like the ‘how to draw an owl’ picture if you do

first, like every artist, i sketch. more specifically, i’m getting an idea of what i want to paint later on. this could be how a scene is set up or in this case, how a character is posed. here i’m not concerned about details or getting everything perfectly, i’m only planning how the thing will be composed. maybe a lot of canvas size changing, or adjusting what miku’s doing (note how busted miku’s right hand looks from all the transforming!) however, i still have to be concerned with how clear the sketch will be to future me, because the sketch won’t be any good if i can’t read what miku’s doing

after that, i lay down a flat gray under the sketch, mainly focusing on giving miku a clear silhouette. this is also a good time to make adjustments to the composition on the fly if i suddenly feel like something can be improved upon, like shortening miku’s left arm from the sketch!

after painting a flat silhouette, i start shading in grayscale, focusing only on lighting. i usually do it in two passes, one for the lightest and darkest tones i’ll use (not black and white) and then a second for midtones to blend them better with the base gray but i forgot to screenshot the result of the first pass 🗿 nevertheless, here is where i can start adding some amount of details. i’m not including any extra accessories yet, just focusing on the base design of the outfit and the character herself (for anyone wanting to draw characters from That Gacha Game, this is how i personally make the process more bearable for myself.) i still use the dark gray to separate where certain details (like the facial features and fingers) begin and end, mainly to make colouring more bearable later.

now here’s where i get the Good Colours. it’s a cheat lol. i put a gradient map layer over the grayscale painting so that there’s a little bit of color to start. some gradient maps can be applied as is, some need the layer settings adjusted to make it look good. this one, for example, is a (free) gradient map set from the csp assets store that needs you to set the layer opacity to 20% and to set the blending mode to color to achieve this result. in general, i tend to pick which gradient map i want to use based on vibes, or basically whether i want the work to be warmer or cooler, colour-wise. but this does do quite a bit of lifting for the colors in my stuff.

and then, finally, i add the colours. i add flat base colours in an overlay layer. at this stage, i’ve made the character silhouette clear enough that i don’t need to refer to the sketch anymore for what miku looks like. also, the gradient map layer does its magic by making the shading a bit more vibrant than it would’ve been without it. after that i paint over with a new layer to add details like the lace.

and then i put some extra shading on top. basically this is where the ‘better lighting’ happens. again, this isn’t a tutorial, so i’m not here to say what each part of the lighting is, but i’ve labeled which layers do which job. in other works where the lighting within a scene is more defined (from a window, from a small crack in the walls, etc) the glow dodge layer may be more opaque and sharper, but since this isn’t a work with that, the lighting was applied using an airbrush. the linear burn layer is also there to make the whole thing darker so the glow dodge doesn’t end up oversaturating miku. i also usually match the lights to the vibe i want, and use a complementary color for the shadows. so here you can see i have warm colors on the glow dodge layer, but light purple on both the linear burn and multiply layer.

and that’s it for the character—here’s a gif showing how each layer adds to miku! (sorry it’s so toasty)

as for the background, depending on the complexity, it may go through a similar process, or if i can settle with flat image backgrounds, i just go for that. it’s ok to use external image materials. i didn’t have a background in mind for this miku in specific, so i got some default csp materials and threw together something

and that’s about a rough overview of what my process for more finished works looks like! again, art is a fluid process so i never specifically stick to certain steps all the time, and you shouldn’t either. i can probably answer why i’d pick this colour over another in one particular work, but it’s something that kinda has to be learned on a grander scale. i think everyone can already feel what colors work with what atmosphere or what setting, even if they can’t immediately explain why. colors and composition do take some level of experimentation to find what works best!

#hatsune miku #vocaloid #piapro studio #doodle #ask #partypoizzon

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kairiscorner · 4 months

Note

watching fireworks with nanamin pls?

✭・.・ holiday headcanons event (new years) !!

day 5.2: watching the fireworks with nanamin 🎆

🍰 genre: fluff !! ✒️ word count: 769 💭 summary: watching the fireworks with nanamin 🎆 📣 thanks for requesting anon! if you'd like to request any other prompt for any other character, please refer to my holiday headcanons event and send me an ask!

"hurry, hurry ken!" you exclaimed as you clutched his hand, running out to the balcony with him, a huge, beaming smile on your face. nanami reminded you to slow down, there was no rush, the fireworks show would start in five minutes. "we don't have to hurry, my love..." nanami told you as you awaited the flurry of lights in the sky with a grin on your face.

"but i've waited months for this moment, kento!" you chuckled out, with nanami sitting down on a chair on the balcony, admiring how you looked from behind with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "and why's that?" he asked you curiously, pouring himself a glass of wine. you turned to look at him, an unmistakable shine of excitement and joy in your eyes that allured nanami even more to you, compelling him to gaze back at you with undivided attention.

"because... this is the first time i'll watch it with you," you pointed out, your voice cracking with euphoria. nanami's eyebrows raised, you were right, this was the first time you two would be watching the fireworks together; this was the first night in his life where he hasn't thought of the workload he'd deal with after the new year's, about how nothing new has changed about his life, how... everything felt lighter somehow after you entered his life.

nanami's face softened, and he shut his eyes for a little while, setting his glass of wine down and extending his arms towards you. "...and y'know what? i'm more than happy to share this moment with you now, dearest," he tells you with a gentle voice, his eyes holding that very same glint of love and affection you had whenever you looked at him. "can i have a hug? to celebrate the beginning of a new year with you," he mumbled, blushing a bit at how shy he must've sounded right then and there.

you nodded and giggled under your breath, wrapping your arms around nanami's neck, with nanami wrapping his arms around your waist. "could i... sit on your lap, ken?" "of course," nanami replied almost immediately, with him blushing a little more in response. "you're blushing..." you teased, with nanami kissing your cheek, chuckling. "it's the alcohol, love," "sure it is..." you say in a sarcastic tone, grinning at him, leaning a little against him as you got slightly more comfortable on his lap.

nanami held you closer to his chest, wrapping his toned arms around your waist, resting his chin on the crown of your head, sighing. "i'm glad that, even if i didn't start the year with you... i'll start another year of my life with you," he whispered in your ear, making your face feel hot as his lips touched your ear. "thank you for everything, my beloved..." he murmured in your ear, smiling against it, kissing down your earlobe.

at that very moment, the first few sparks of orange, pink, and yellow streaked across the dark blue sky; people exclaimed, "happy new year!" from across their homes, down the streets, with some blowing on horns, others honking their car horns and hitting on pots. "it's the new year already..." he muttered, looking down at you as opposed to the numerous colorful sparks flying in the sky. nanami ran his hand through your hair as you stared up into the night sky, laughing under your breath like a child as the colors filled the once empty canvas of the sky before you two. "look, a blue one, kento!" you exclaimed, pointing to one, with nanami looking upwards and nodding as he watched the fireworks go off with you in his arms.

"they're beautiful... just like you," he whispered, kissing the back of your head, making you squirm on his lap. "ever the tease under that tough guy mask... the one thing i hope will never change about you come the new year," you replied, turning around and gazing into his eyes. under the light of the fleeting fireworks, with the sound of the neighbors and townspeople clamoring and celebrating the new years, you placed your hands on both sides of nanami's face, pulled him in close, and kissed him softly into the new year.

he may not have begun the previous grueling years of his life with you, but was he glad to have you in the new chapter of his life with you; he was more than happy to celebrate the new year with you in his arms, your lips on his, and his heart thumping along the beat of your own.

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pinkwright · 1 year

Text

need u on my skin like closure, baby | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — college!shuri x college!y/n

trope — exes 2 friends 2 lovers

inspo — anya mmiri by ckay ft. pinkpantheress

warnings — fingering (reader receiving), dom!shuri, humiliation kink, erm dumbification (listen..), possessive!shuri, protective!shuri, shuri is touchy, kissing, overstimulation, its long my bad, reader is easily embarrassed, tensionnn, shuris mean n condescending but so in love, reader is bratty for like two seconds, jealous!shuri, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation but like its like praise coded, praise, reader gets rlly subby (poor baby) but not crazily so like subspace, i think that's it but i honestly don't know.

a/n — i wrote this pretty quickly actually n was initially gonna post for valentines but bc i'm drowning in ideas rn it doesnt rlly matter so, i hope u enjoy it ! girl i won't lie writing this had me a bit breathy LMFAO so if there r any errors that's my bad but u know why. im a miniskirt kinda gal so this is what i imagine reader wearing to the party while this is what i imagine shuri in (4th)— u can obvi imagine what u want.

⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @saintwrld

ஜ

confusion, confusion, it's life, and illusion. you’re with me right now, next thing you're gone. but i need you on my skin closure, like closure, baby.

the music blasts through your ears, the steady vibrations stimulating you sufficiently, working well in keeping you from getting distracted from the current art piece you worked on. the world around you seemed muted as the tones of green, brown, and orange danced across your canvas, the oil paint was firm but still allowed room for error, encouraging it even – your favourite medium for that reason.

a slow succession of knocks sound under the thump of your music, the door to your studio opening and closing with two soft clicks, the person not making themselves known to you. though, a smile creeps on your lips – having recognised the knocking pattern, “by now you should know that creeping up on me after you’ve knocked is futile, right?” your hand reaching towards your stereo to lower the piercing volume.

you place your palette on the covered table to your side, the dirty paintbrush following suit as you stand to turn to face her, your arms lift into a stretch then fall to fix the unruly bun of the lace on your head as you finally set your gaze on her. she’s standing in the doorway, her hands buried in the pockets of her baggy black sweatpants, a matching oversized black hoodie sitting on her torso, the accents of dark purple shifting as she lifts her hands into surrender, and there’s mischief dancing in her eyes.

“i will never understand how you do that when i quite literally have the stealth of a panther.”

she’s smiling at you as she speaks, her voice is playful and light as you begin to pack up your belongings, “i don’t know, your majesty. maybe, just maybe, the deadly black panther has met her match.” you’re giggling as you say it, unaware of the inner turmoil you’ve thrown shuri in to.

the air quietens down as you raise your eyes to look at her, your sweep of the room to make sure it’s presentable for your arrival tomorrow complete, and you seem to realise what has transpired, what you insinuated. shuri’s gazing at you with a deep but unreadable expression, one that has you averting your eyes over an awkward chuckle as you walk towards her.

“that, she has.” her voice is deep, and serious, as it slithers up your body, wafting with your intake of breath to settle in the depths of your lungs. her words carry a depth you’re familiar with, or at least, were familiar with, one that spoke of her devotion to you, her love and respect for you, her desires and promises to make you, her queen.

you clear your throat before moving around her tall frame to step out of the small, now tense, space. your heart flutters as she quickly reaches out to open the door for you, her cologne permeating your psyche as it washes over you – jasmine and warm musk on top of cedar and bourbon vanilla, all wrapped within the sensual flamboyancy of roses.

you walk to the elevator and step into the space, the music is soothing as you sigh out and drop your head side to side in a stretch, you had been sat unmoving for a long period of time, “i always tell you to take stretching breaks to ease the strain on your body.” shuri’s voice is teasing but you can hear the firmness floating through the crevices of it. your eyes reach to look up at her, your lips parting on a snarky remark, but the ding of a stop on another floor has you pausing; then there are two things happening simultaneously.

firstly, a group of college boys is stepping into the small space and, secondly, shuri’s reaching both her hands to rest firmly on the skin of either of your shoulders, slightly pressing against you to shift your body away from the rowdy boys, guiding you to face slightly away from them, as she steps forward to press against you, giving the one that was nearest to you a curt but taunting smile, as if she’s daring them to touch you.

the action is so swift and so instinctive that it’s over before you even get to blink twice, but it wakes up your aching body, provoking it into calling out for her. you feel its call in the warmth pulsing through you, the sweep of your stomach, and the racing of your heart. her head dips to where her soft curls skim the skin of your collarbone, her nose barely brushing against the arch of your neck, and your head is tilting slightly for her, your body reacts before your mind can process, clearly yearning for her closeness.

“what were you saying, s’thandwa?”

she breathes the words into your skin, her hands squeezing your shoulders before they’re slipping down your arms and coming to rest on the heated skin of your waist, pulling you into her so her chest presses against the length of your back; and you’re embarrassed. you can feel the rapid glances of the others beside you, though their conversation never ceases, and you know that shuri’s doing this on purpose. she knows that no matter how much you deny it, your body vibrates with the idea of her possessing you like this, owning you where there’s nothing to shield the clench of your thighs from prying eyes; she knows you bask in the humiliation of it.

you shake your head to clear your thoughts, “it’s fine, it wasn’t important.” you almost flinch when you hear how breathy your voice sounds, the heat rising to your face but moving to settle in the pit of your stomach. shuri’s chuckle is taunting as she breathes you in, her head dropping slightly and you can feel her lips curling as she skims a phantom kiss on your sweet skin, and you swear when your head clears, you’re going to kill shuri udaku.

the doors ring open to the ground floor and shuri guides your body out, no longer pressed against you as she takes to wrapping her arm around your shoulder and your head finally clears. “you are such a fucking ass, actually,” her boisterous laugh is cutting you off as she turns to look down at you, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“looking out for you is being an ass, my love?” she teases. your eyes roll as you throw her arm off of you, her laugh only intensifying as she brings her hands to clap obnoxiously. the muscles of your heart seize as you regard her, you love her so much, why’d she have to confuse you like this?

“shut the fuck up, i’ll see you tonight.” you try to look annoyed, but a series of giggles are escaping you as you walk away, your apartment only a block away. you’re adjusting the bag on your shoulder when shuri’s voice rings out in agreement, her laugh quelling as she watches you go, a sigh taking its place as the longing grips her once again.

⤠

you roll your lips to spread your lipgloss and reach to put the tube in the black bag you decided to carry tonight, rocking your hips to the beat of baby boy reverbarating through the walls of your apartment as you deem yourself ready. you spin your back to the mirror, your eyes sliding to gaze over your shoulder as you give yourself a once over, the length of your skirt was daring, provocative, just how you liked it.

the knocking at your door has you grabbing your bag and ruffling out your hair, allowing the bangs to frame your face cheekily because you know shuri likes it when you look a little bit of a mess for her, not that you wanted to look good for her or anything along those lines. the door swings open, your previous smile dropping as you lay your eyes on her, sweeping your gaze down her lithe frame as your glossy lips part, she needed you bad; shuri’s doing the same, her tongue coming out to lick her lips as her dark eyes burn into the skin of your legs, she had always been a leg girl.

your eyes snap up at the clearing of her throat, and she’s smirking at you before leaning into your space, her arms wrapping slowly around your waist, pressing you against her firmly as she brings her lips to your ear, “bast, you’re killing me, baby.”

the words end with a grunt as she slips one of her hands down your hips to play with the hem of your skirt, “this fucking skirt, you’re a little slut for attention, hm.” her voice is soft and cooing like she’s praising you, and her fingers grazing the skin of your thigh paired with the tenderness of her tone coaxes you into accepting the praise.

you let out a low whimper, the heat of your core bringing you to clench your thighs slightly, shuri chuckles condescendingly before pulling away, lifting your hand to her lips to graze your knuckles before she’s pulling you away, guiding you to her car. the ride is a short but electrified one, god what kind of exes slash friends were you?

the party is in full blast by the time you two arrive, music blasting through the house and flowing into both the back and front yards, you could feel the vibrations settle in the marrow of your bones as you make your way inside, still being guided by shuri. she moves through the crowd just like a panther; gracefully, instinctively, moving with the aura of the apex predator she was, she greets people as she enters the kitchen, using the grip on your hand to seat you on an empty barstool before she starts to prepare some drinks for you.

you’re joined by some of your friends, and soon you’re laughing, enjoying the party and the sweet drink shuri had prepared for you, before you feel like dancing. you hold one of your friend’s hands as you go to dance, letting go of the overbearing stress you carried, letting the music caress the heat of your skin. you feel her eyes watching you, feel them heavily sliding down the length of your moving body and it exhilarates you. you open your eyes and just as you meet her gaze, a body presses itself against you, much like she had earlier, and her gaze is darkening.

the intensity of it shocks you but lulls the bratty side of you forward, calling you to make her move, make her claim you again. the thought excites you enough to bring your hand to guide the strangers to rest on the material covering your ribs, your lips twitching in amusement when you see her eyes drop to sneer at the touch.

that’s it, come to me. the vixen in you is cunning, luring her lover to her with tactics she knows shuri will concur to, tactics she knows will break the regal patience of the queen.

but shuri simply raises a manicured brow, her lips lifting into a smirk as she sweeps her eyes over your frame and she’s leaning forward against the marble countertops before tilting her head at you. you know that look, and so does your body, seeing as it instinctively clenches with a fire so deep it licks at the jagged edges of your ribs, sinking into the space between your legs.

she barely lifts her hand, her fingers moving to call you to her and you’re moving without thinking, like a prey to its predator, and you’re soothed by a false sense of security when she allows you to place your hand in hers so she can gently pull you towards her and whisper directly into your ear, “i don’t know who made you think you run shit, s’thandwa, but i know you need me to fix that for you, right?”

the shiver that wrecks through your body is instant and you’re nodding before you can comprehend, your breath hitching when you feel her pull you through the crowd, you were in for it. the lock of the bathroom door barely clicks before one of shuri’s hands grabs both of your wrists to press against the wood while the other pushes your hips against the surface.

there’s a pause, “i need to hear you to tell me you want this baby, that you want me.” her voice is strained like she’s holding back.

“please, please, shuri, i need it, need you, always.”

the whine barely escapes you before she’s letting out a tortured groan and pressing against you, her hand sliding down your hip, roughly pushing the hem of your skirt up, and pressing over the front of your damp underwear. your hips stutter as she presses against your clit, your lips parting as you moan out, hearing her groan into the curve of your neck, her lips pressing heated kisses along the length of it, “barely touched you and you’re this wet for me, baby? my pretty pussy’s crying for me, isn’t she?”

her voice is pulling you into the state only she can pull you into, where your mind is only occupied with her, and it’s hard to think, to breathe, to exist beyond her. her fingers trace slow circles over your underwear, your hips swirling to match the movements, and she’s laughing at you. lifting her lips to slide over your cheekbone and press against your temple as she increases the pace of her fingers.

“my desperate fucking girl. you want to come in these pretty lace panties?”

your hips buck wildly as you gasp, your head spinning as you whimper out her name, over and over again, a series of pleads falling from your lips. the way she’s talking to you with that lilt in her voice like you were just a girl to be scolded, a girl to be humiliated until you learned, learned what being hers meant. she’s speaking words to you, wanting you to gaze into those eyes while she touches what’s hers.

you feel the wave cresting, your stomach clenching as you practically squeal out her name, your hips gyrating frantically in time with her hand, your hands are clenching, your arms still held above your head, wanting to grab something to ground you, wanting to touch her to ground you. she coos at you, murmuring about her, “pretty sweet thing coming so good for her.”

your heart rate doesn’t get the chance to slow as you feel her hand slip into your now-soaked, underwear, your hips bucking violently as she grazes her slender fingers across your sensitive clit, and your eyes are widening as you lift your gaze to find hers already on you, “had enough, angel? i don’t think you have.” her voice is taunting, her eyes holding a fire that burns your insides.

your mouth drops open, your gaze unable to move from hers as she slides her fingers to your entrance circling around the opening as she groans deep in her throat, “bast, you were made for me, my love, made to take me?” her finger slips in slightly as she curls her tongue around ‘take’ and you’re chasing her fingers, she’s being so mean.

you tense as she finally slips her finger into the warmth of your walls, a satisfying moan slips from your mouth as she begins to gently thrust in and out of you, her fingers dragging against you, just the way she knows you love. she’s smirking against your cheek as you unabashedly moan out repeatedly, thumb coming to circle your clit as you shut your eyes. the tears are gathering on your lashes as you’re whimpering out.

“there’s my pretty baby’s tears.” her voice is dark, menacingly dragging out the words. “couldn’t have my pretty pussy crying by herself tonight, hm.” the words render you dumb before her fingers glide firmly against that rough patch inside you and you’re clenching so hard that it drags her fingers deeper into you, your legs trembling, your body solely held up by shuri’s hold on your wrists. and you still long enough for her to mutter out a ‘that’s it, angel.’ before you’re exploding again.

the tears are clinging to your lashes as you see flashes of colour behind your eyelids, your breath coming out in pants as you stutter your hips to the soothing slow of shuri’s lithe fingers, she’s using the hand holding your wrist to lower your arms to rest around her shoulders, her arms then coming to the back of your thighs to gently lift you on to the sink.

you feel her lift your chin, her lips approaching yours before she pauses, “you’re mine, right. my precious love, hm?” her voice is raspy. you nod eagerly, tightening your arms around her neck, whining for that kiss. she smirks as she leans in, placing her lips against your own softly but with a little desperation, the slide of your lips is a back-and-forth pull of your love, a love song duet, a devotion of walking into what will be.

the panther’s sly hands skim up your still quivering thighs fiddling with the band of your underwear, pausing, before she’s ripping them off. the gasp you release into her mouth is sharp but as you go to pull away, she doesn’t let you, her mouth slipping against yours felt like an addiction. both her hands slip along your inner thigh making their way to your dripping cunt.

her lips separate from yours when the tips of her fingers graze your folds and you thrash so wildly, she has to reach a hand to your hip to still you, a grunt slipping passed her mouth at the action, you were so sensitive, it made her feral. her eyes lift to your shut ones as she glides her fingers over your clit, your head frantically shaking, “you don’t want more, my love?”

her voice wisps through the clouds in your mind, “c-cant…please” you force out pathetically on a whimper, her fingers circling your clenching entrance, “i know, baby, i know.” she’s speaking gently to you, lovingly, “but you’re mine, yes? mine to love, mine to make come as i please? isn’t that right, honey?” and you’re nodding frantically.

“then i want you to get off on my thigh like the desperate girl you are, sweetheart.”

her voice is the only thing you can fathom, and it has you craving for more, inviting her into you and it almost makes shuri preen – you’re so open to her, settling into her embrace as if you trusted her more than yourself, it makes her soaking pussy clench tight around nothing, in a way only you could make her. her thigh presses between your legs and your muscles tremble around the strong muscle, her hand slips around your throat, squeezing gently as she guides your eyes to hers, and she gazes at you so deeply, it makes you squirm.

shuri’s watching you struggle against her thigh, her lips lifting into a condescending smirk that forces you to shut your eyes and let out a lengthy, needy whine before she uses her free hand to grip your waist and harshly slide you against her.

“dumb baby needs me to do everything for her?”

the moans you’re sobbing out sharply slice through the air, and you feel filthy, crying out for her while she drags you against her thigh like a desperate slut. you’re hiccupping on your tears as she continues to coo at you, walking you to your demise and you can feel it, your heartbeat pulsing through your desperate clenching walls.

her head is nodding along with yours, your eyes unable to separate from hers, and she’s groaning along to your cries, asking if you want it enough if you’re desperate enough for her. she leans in to press a tender peck to your lips that you can’t reciprocate, “that’s it, my angel, give me that come.”

then your body is convulsing so violently, shuri has to press the length of her body against you to prevent you from slipping off of the sink she has you sat on, her head sinking to your neck to shower you in praises and remind you how good you were for her, how much she loves you, how pretty you are when you cry for her. your tears are hot on your cheeks as you soak her thigh, and you’re heaving as your eyelashes cling to one another, the mascara smeared along your waterline - you looked ruined.

shuri regards you with a tenderness that sends you spiralling, she reaches her hand to brush along your wet cheeks before following the trail with her warm lips, exhaling her love into your skin, reminding you how much her heart belonged to you too. her lips meet yours in a soft press and she sighs as she pulls you against her body to ground herself.

she could feel her heart clench with the force of her love for you, she was never going to let you go again.

how could i forget you? when you build house for my mind? and you no go, go outside and you no go, go. i miss me and you. but all i have is memories of you. but that just wont do tonight.

ஜ

#pinkwrighting ⊹ ۪ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ.#shuri x black!reader #shuri udaku #letitia wright #black panther #shuri x reader #black panther wakanda forever #shuri angst #shuri smut #shuri fluff #shuri imagine #shuri x you

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ressjeon · 1 year

Text

storge: painting | myg

summary: you're busy preparing something for your one-two arguably little ones without thinking they'll do the same to you

rating: pg | word count: 0.8k

genre/au: slice of life, domestic!au, family!au

content: dad yoongles 🥺 and cute stuff (what is happening to me)

a/n: happy 30th birthday to the loml yoongi! finally posting a dilf drabble for him and posted on time. i suddenly wrote this out of nowhere after seeing some clips from the RUN episode last year because he's just a husband material oml i couldn't help it >.<

The smile hasn’t left your lips when you hear the bickering at a distance.

You’re currently approaching the door right at the corner, carrying a tray of snacks and a pitcher to where the source of the noise is from. You knock as soon as you reach the door but they couldn’t seem to hear it because when you opened the door, your daughter and husband are still arguing in front of a canvas on the floor.

More like your baby girl complaining while Yoongi is purposefully being stubborn to tease her.

"daddy, come on, it's pretty easy" your toddler huffs as she tugs on Yoongi's rolled-up sleeve. Your husband’s wearing a yellow suede shirt, paired with a white one underneath that made you mildly concerned about getting dirty until he reassured you that he’d be careful. He’s wearing a long dark green canvas apron but even if it gets messy later on, he’d never mind so long as it makes his little girl happy.

Your daughter’s little eyebrows are still scrunched together as she stares at her father's canvas. She seems to want him to paint a similar picture as hers, with bright colours closely depicting a flower garden. Your heart melts at what you’re seeing, Yoongi watching your daughter fondly while she tries to teach him how to paint like her.

The art supplies scattered around the covered floor that they're both on just add how beautiful what you’re looking at is. And now you know what to paint on your canvas.

You have to carefully mind your steps until you reach the table so you can place the snack tray you’re carrying.

It’s the weekend and you’re both thankfully off from work, allowing you and Yoongi to have a bonding time with your daughter. Every week, you let her pick on what activity you’re all doing as a family and this time its painting.

"he's too lazy, mommy!" your daughter accuses, finger pointing at her father while holding a mini paint brush with her other hand. She’s pertaining to the plain hues of colour that Yoongi has been painting so far and it made you giggle. You approach his sitting form to see his progress so far.

"not bad yoongs" you stare at his canvas of greys and blues with a teasing lilt in your tone making Yoongi pout.

"can you see my ruthless brush strokes? my plan was to only paint whatever comes to mind" he complains, lips puckering at your comment and it makes you laugh even more.

"okay, break time for now" you called, unloading the snacks and a pitcher of pineapple juice. Your daughter immediately drops her brush and excitedly approaches you, having you remind her to be careful not to step on anything.

You handed her a glass of juice and a small slice of pajeon.

"thank you mommy"

“ask daddy to get his share”

She hesitates a bit before calling for her Dad in which Yoongi replies with “i’m almost done baby”.

He's getting lost in what he's doing again, similar to when he's working that you often have to remind him to get breaks.

“the hotteok’s gonna get cold Yoongi'' you playfully scold him, aware that he usually prefers to eat it quickly while it’s hot.

This got his attention and he eventually stands up, following his daughter to where you’re currently sitting. He grabs a bite and takes one fish-shaped bread after, humming when he tastes the red bean inside it. Of course, you have to make two flavours since he prefers that flavour while your daughter loves the custard cream filling like you do.

You help your daughter sit in her chair and move towards Yoongi next, bringing up his left arm to take off the hair tie from his wrist. He raises a brow at you, munching another piece of hotteok.

“you’ve been moving your bangs a lot earlier, don’t want any paint on them” you smile, gathering his hair and pulling it back before securing it with the hair tie you’re holding. Yoongi's hair has been very luscious since he started growing it, and you've been doing your best to keep the scissors away.

However, you’re starting to regret doing so and your husband seems to notice it. Yoongi knows how you love his man bun, that little quirk of his lips stayed the entire time until he finished his glass of juice.

He stands up to grab his apron to finish his own canvas, ignoring your flustered reaction.

“mommy, come” your daughter breaks your reverie when her tiny hands reach for yours, dragging you to the empty canvas on her left side.

They've both gone quiet and are now focusing on their own canvases so you decide to do the same. You sat down and stare blankly at the canvas, forgetting what you wanted to paint when suddenly you feel strong arms caging you from behind.

Only then do you notice the paint streaks on your daughter's face, who's grinning widely while holding her small wood palette in her hand, fingers coated with paint as they reach out to your cheeks.

“your turn” Yoongi whispers beside you with his gummy smile, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before applying his paint-coated fingers to your other cheek.

In the end, you never get to paint anything on your canvas.

divider by: @cafekitsune 💕

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kiwi-channn · 2 months

Text

Just a drawing

(Part 2)

Older Simon Riley × fem reader(artist)

∆ Artist reader sees Ghost while he is patrolling her city and she wanna draw Ghost but he refuses ∆

Part 1 - part 3 - part4

...............🌻🌻🌻.................

I just thought that he looked like a great drawing reference... That rough aura... With a strong body... The look in his eyes is something I never saw before... So cold and alone... Interesting it was...

I wanted to capture that man on my canvas... I will use black and blue as a palette for him with a tiny string of red... It is gonna be amazing...

But! No matter how much I try, he refuses to let me draw him... The thing is he doesn't know me yet.. I never give up... Especially when it's something I wanna draw... I will try and try and try until it works.... Just perfect results are accepted...

.......

So for the next week, I stalked him.... He crosses this area every Saturday at 10 pm... Luckily I live here ... So I can easily see him every Saturday when he patrols the area...

He looks so grumpy... Wonder if he has other layers.. wonder if he has other colors under those dark basic colors...

Will he let me draw him?... How should I convince a scary soldier to let me draw him?...

........

"don't you give up!..." Ghost said with an annoyed tone... He is so done with this little college girl who is after him...

She doesn't answer and pretends to be behind the tree...

"you know I can see you right?... Do you call that a hiding spot?..."

She sighs tiredly and moves away from behind the tree...

"I just wanna talk to you sir" said so innocently like she wasn't stalking him for the last week like a prey...

"really?.. so you stalk me from behind the trees..." He isn't even surprised... He now is sure that this girl is out of her mind...

"no no... I was just taking a little peak.. not stalking or anything..."

He can't understand that girl at all... Is she even okay?!... Why is she so consisting on drawing him when he refused her many times?...

(is it really just a drawing?!)

Ghost can't stop but think that this girl is suspicious... He doesn't trust her consist...

"why are you looking at me like that?" She is looking at him like a creeped rabbit in headlights...

"what?" He says confused at her looks ...

"like a wolf..." She says quietly with a calm look of some fear... She is in her own little world now.. imagining other stuff...

"huh?.. bloody hell.. you crazy?... You really have a problem.."

She chuckles and looks up at him... Her gaze going through his soul not just his gaze... She is really analyzing him ...

"just get lost.. little girl" he snarls at her... Trying to be more rude so she gets away from him...

"you think I will give up with just that?... Iam not that easy lieutenant..."

"what do you want?..." huffing with cold tired heart... He wanna get straight to the point now .. he doesn't have time to chat especially with this weird girl...

She didn't expect him to ask her that and she thinks a bit...

"will you come with me to somewhere..."

"do you think iam easy too?... Why will I go with you anywhere?..."

She smiles a bit and leans her head to the side slightly ... "Do you think I can hurt you, lieutenant?..." Said so calmly with a gentle tone ....

He stays silent for a few moments... Just looking at her... He doesn't get her at all...

"fine... I can squash you if you ever tried anything funny anyway.."

She feels a bit shocked at the way he speaks... But she pays no mind and laughs it off....

........

And after ten minutes... They were both in her car... She is driving... And he is sitting on the passenger seat beside her... He doesn't fit at all beside her... With her small pink car... And her calm oblivious aura... He looks out of place...

"where are we going?.."

"don't worry.. I won't eat you..."

He gives her a side eye... He knows for sure whom can truly eat the other ...

"brave little minx ..."

"well I understand little minx.. but brave?.. me?..."

"you are more stupid than brave..."

"ugh.. can't you be nice for a moment..."

"no..."

She shakes her head a bit... And she stays silent for the rest of the road...

...........

They reach the sea and he feels a bit confused that she brought him here...

This city has a beautiful sea, that's what he heard but he never came to see it... And it's indeed pretty... The sea water are so blue like the sky... The shore's sand is a bit dark colored but still matches the sea so much.... With a nice breeze... So refreshing and smells like salty water... That special aroma...

He just stands beside the car not moving a muscle... And she takes off her shoes and walks on the sand softly like walking on sharp glass...

She then stops midway and looks back at him... Giving him a look of inviting ...

"what?" He says

"what!" She says back

"aren't you coming?... Are you gonna just stand there like a statue?..."

He feels a bit offended and steps on the sand...

"aren't you taking off your boots?... It will fill up with sand.."

He doesn't answer her and she gives up and just walks with him closer to the sea .... Then she sits down in front of the sea... And he just sits beside her ...

"so?.. just brought me here to look at the water!..."

"oh .. sorry to disappoint you sir ... Did you expect more?..." Says softly with a smirk that annoyed him so much....

He just glares at her... She is really weird he thinks...

She looks ahead of her... Listening to the soft waves hit the shore...

"when I was young, my parents had a divorce... At that time I thought that I could fix it... But I was just a kid ..."

He didn't say anything for a few moments...

"why are you telling me that?..."

"maybe I just wanna bribe you... To let me draw you"

He smiles a little behind his balaclava and doesn't say anything back for a nother minute...

"what did you do then?..."

She feels a bit relieved that he chooses not to be rude...

"I just cried... I couldn't imagine my life alone... Without mom and dad ..."

"alone?... Didn't they just get a divorce?.."

"yeah.. but they both didn't want me anymore... They wanted to start new lives ..."

"hmm..." That was his answer... He doesn't know what to say in these situations at all...

She laughs and nudges him...

"it was long ago... It doesn't affect me like it did before..."

He frowns and didn't say anything... And they just sit silently, looking at the sea...

"I still won't let you draw me.."

"come onnnn... I told you something sensitive about me .."

"well I didn't ask you to tell me... You forced me to hear you..."

"forced you?... You are so Stony.."

He chuckles a bit and stops immediately so she won't hear it... "Stony!... That's the weirdest thing I have ever heard..."

She heard him chuckle quietly and she decides not to mention it...

"come on .. just one portrait of you... Just one .."

"no"

"ughhh... Evil..."

"and you are a little baby ..."

.....

"so you will come again?.."

"come where?.." he acts dump...

She looks so done with how annoying he is...

"to here... The sea... It's my calming place..." She sighs and looks at him...

"so?.. you will?.." she want him to accept so bad... She wanna come here again with him... Maybe that will convince him to let her do a portrait of him...

"without a portrait?..." He breaks all her hopes..

"okay.. just for now..." She had to agree for now... She wanna know that set of colors and complicated emotions for now... For her portrait of course...

"fine ... Maybe another time here won't be a problem..."

"deal!..."says happily and she smiles a bit smile and looks back at the sea.... She can't believe he agreed... Maybe he is indeed easy...

The sun setting down over the sea... The sky isn't totally blue now... It has some orange and a bit splashes of pink...

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x artist #romantic #romance #fanfic #older!ghost

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hydr0phius-art · 3 months

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Painting Chiss Skin

Before I start this, I’m just going to say that I attempted to do an in depth version of this part and then stopped and did dot points because it was too overwhelming.

A lot of what’s in here can be applied to different body parts. Some of it may also be applied to traditional art, but most of this is for digital art. This post focuses on faces. Eyes and scars will be another post that'll hopefully follow this one relatively quickly.

Picking colours (and some other tips)

> Experimenting is good!

> There’s blood beneath skin and it’s going to show through at different intensities based on what your lighting is doing. I’m assuming Chiss blood is red, so I usually make any blush on my Chiss purple. (Red + blue = purple. Basic colour mixing thingz, you know?)

> The fairer the Chiss’ skin is, the more vibrant you can be with that purple blush in my opinion.

> Temperature, colour, and intensity of light determines what the skin looks like.

> Having black shadows on a coloured artwork is a good way to flatten the whole piece; when I paint shadows on a Chiss face, I go for a dark blue or purple and blend it with what’s already on the canvas. Playing with layers and their opacity function is also good.

> Laying down a base blue before starting with the rest of the colours is good. You can see that I did that in the speedpaint I’ve attached to the end of this post.

> This website about colour zones will help.

> This website about colour blocking will also help.

References

> I find a face reference of an actor I want to Chiss-ify. Then I have my blue skin reference, which is usually one of the Na’vi from Avatar.

> I use the Na’vi because there’s a lot of images available with variation with temperature of light and quality of light to observe.

> Make note of the colours that appear in their flesh as light interacts with it.

> Warm light will have pink that transitions to purple, then to blue as shadow starts to come back in. I’ve put Ar’alani next to the reference I took inspiration from (link here) for comparison.

> You want to go and paint your reference as it is, except blue. When you get to adding highlights and shadows, look at the Na’vi image and see what colours appear in that light.

I think that’s pretty much all I do when I paint Chiss. Here’s a speedpaint of Thrawn with Lee Pace as a face claim if that helps somewhat :3

(Ignore how I erased his uniform; I could NOT be bothered with that sorry).

Also, Here are some artworks that helped me when I was figuring this out. I’ve done a bit of analysis that might or might not be helpful. Take what you like from it.

Magali Villeneuve

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A post shared by Magali Villeneuve (@magali_villeneuve)

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In my opinion, Villeneuve’s Thrawn portraits are the best official artworks of him that we have right now. They’re my main go-to for inspiration. The lighting plays across the skin in a way that gives it a fleshy, warm, alive feel. Even the colour zones are present, which gives it that extra bit of depth. If you can’t see them, that’s fine; it takes a bit of time to get used to looking for them.

Rod Reis

The first of Reis’ Alliances cover is also up there with good official Thrawn art we’ve had fairly recently, imo. His style is different to Villeneuve’s, but he follows the same processes with the colour zones and how the skin interacts with the environment around it. The shadows aren’t flat or black; they have colour to them that adds more dimension to the portrait. There’s also that hint of purple-blue blush around his cheeks with more yellowy-blue tones on his forehead and more blue tones around his jaw and chin (again, colour zones are present :3). The light is cooler than Villeneuve’s in the Chaos Rising Portrait, which you can see in the lighter teal hue on the right side of his face. Cool light usually brings out the lighter blue tones in the skin (that’s just what I’ve noticed, though).

And that's it! If anyone has questions, feel free to ask them :3 I'll try and get this eye post out soon <3

#thrawn #ar'alani #grand admiral thrawn #admiral ar'alani #chiss art #thrawn art #art with hydro #hydro rambles #painting aliens is hard but you don't have to suffer in silence #magali villeneuve #rod reis #art study #chiss #chiss ascendancy #star wars #star wars art #Instagram

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midoristeashop · 2 months

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God your drawings are AWESOME as always!!! I was wondering-I love how you make compositions work. You make the characters fit into the scenes that your drawing as if they're there, giving your drawings a very 3D, 4D sort of feeling to it. Do you have any tips or advice when it comes to this? I always find myself having trouble with that the most; knowing how to give a drawing depth.

Love your last drawing btw :) DRAGON HICCUP DRAGON HICCUP

HEY NOTEEE 🫶🏼

First of all tyty you always make my day brighter w ur comments and tings <3

Um composition yeah so I’ll be so real and say most of the time I’m going off the animatics in my head and vibes BUT some tips I can give:

1. Rule of thirds!

Basically, in your canvas ur gonna draw this thing

And wherever those lines cross, put the subject or the most important element of your piece in that area! It’s a neat little trick that helps your eyes move around the piece + have a little more dynamics overall <3 (or in the middle, but like,,, depends on the vibe u know)

2. Love your subjects AND your backgrounds

This is annoying but something I had to learn on my own is that if you want a cohesive piece, love your bgs how you would love your subjects! Using similar styles like lineart, lineart BRUSHES, rendering brushes just putting a little bit of everything into the entirety of your piece def helps make your illustrations feel cohesive.

3. Greyscale - know your lights and darks

Ok this one is tricky but something I love doing before doing a really big illustration/ scene in general is doing a grey scale thumbnail. This is where you can actually see/experiment w depth and contrast! Ex. Your subject (in general) is gonna be a focal point in your piece, so making sure that they don’t blend in with the mid tones/greys really helps with knowing what is in front, and what’s behind.

#these are a few but for comp these are my go tos <3 #art asks!#ALSO DRAGON HICCUP BELONGS TO SECRET N KAE #talking words time

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siriusleee · 8 months

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adamantine chains | part 7 & 8

"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus." "What does that mean?" "Love is rich with both honey and venom." "I suppose that is true." Or which in König finds you broken in the mountains. A (brief) retelling of Cupid and Psyche. König | Reader tags: pregnancy, unwanted/unplanned pregnancy, just vibing here a/n: have you ever written a story that has such an incredibly contrived plot because you didn't do enough planning at the beginning, but you can't stop until it's over. that's this story. but i'm just vibing with it. there are 2 more chapters (which i may post as one big one like i did this one). if you enjoy, subscribe to my ko-fi where i will be posting my writing updates, or donate to help me recuperate after buying so many damn school supplies. i also don't know how to do math, so my weeks are probably so off in this previous chapter | part one

For the first month König's gone, you throw yourself into helping Oma. The biting wind of winter threatens at the beginning of October, and everything needs to be cut back, dug up, covered in a thick canvas cloth to wait for next spring to reemerge. The dirt clings beneath your nails and at your knees - but it gives you something to do.

Your camera sits on the bedside table in your room - you spend every night wrapped up in König's bed, breathing in the scent of him until it's nearly gone from the blankets. One day, folding laundry and putting it away you find his cologne tucked away in one of his drawers. You renew the house with the scent of him.

Oma calls you the next day - the sound of the phone ringing wakes you from the nest of König's clothes you slept in.

"Ja, Oma?"

"Bist du wach?"

"Ja, I awake. Are you alright?"

"Ich möchte, dass du vorbeikommst, wenn du Feierabend hast."

"Wie bitte? After work what do you need?"

On the other end of the line, Oma sighs - you know your slow grasp of the language frustrates her each day.

"After work, come over, please. I am cooking dinner."

"Ja, gnädige Frau. I will."

She doesn't say goodbye - a custom for her. You listen to the dial tone on the other end for a moment before letting the phone back down onto its hook. Your eyes are heavy and thick as you pad silently through the house, the cold floor making you shiver. Outside it's still dark - the sunrise only a hint on the horizon.

Of course, Oma is awake.

"It must be an old lady thing," you mutter to yourself, knowing that you'd never say it to her face. Your arms are covered in gooseflesh from the chill in the air - you rub yourself to try to keep warm. You're half in and half out of the hallway when you see why it's so cold - the front door is open and swaying in the early morning breeze.

"Fuck."

You slam the door shut and flick the lock but it sticks halfway in and out. It must not have latched completely last night and the wind blew it open - you think for a moment that you need to tell König to see if he can fix it. With a sigh, you shove the door harder. You'll have to fix it yourself. It takes a bit of strength, but you're able to get the lock into the right position - you won't be able to use it until it's fixed, but the backdoor will be fine.

You think about going back to bed until it's time to wake up, but you know if you do, you'll just lay there for hours until it's time to get up. Instead you busy yourself cleaning, washing clothes that have piled up at the end of your bed, knowing that if König comes home and sees it, his nose will wrinkle - you've never met someone so obsessed with keeping their house spotless.

by the time you get ready for work, you're already worn out and tired, but you make sure to lock the backdoor behind you.

***

"What is that smell?" You mutter to yourself, tying your apron around your waist.

"Was?"

You look over at your co-worker, a sweet girl named Valentina, who smiles at you across the bar.

"You dont smell that?" You ask her; the air is filled with something that smells sickly sweet - reminiscent of rotting wood and dirt. Valentina shakes her head at you.

"It might be someone's," she mimes spraying herself, "Parfüm."

"Maybe."

It's your turn to do the cleaning - you do it without complaint, thankful of something to do, something to get you out of the house and away from the thought's of König and how upset he'd been at you about his mask.

It's nearly noon and you're halfway through rubbing the chairs down with a disinfectant when Valentina calls you from the counter.

"Someone is asking about one of your photos."

A man with disheveled blonde hair stands at the counter, a print of yours in his hand. He looks not like he just rolled out of bed, but that he picked everything out to intentionally look like he just rolled out of bed.

As you get closer you realize it's a print of König's shadow, rippling across a brick wall in the evening. The background is the town, lit up for night - nearly pastoral.

"How much?" His accent is Western Europeanan, soft and lilting.

"Oh -" You were expecting to have to try to figure out what to tell him in German, and his English catches you off guard. "Just however much you think it's worth. It's a pay what you think kind of thing."

You don't like the way he grins at you, sharp teeth almost predatory, but when he pushes a bill into your hands you take it from him. His hand lingers in yours, almost to warm before he pulls away.

"Thank you."

You watch the door swing shut behind him before looking down at the bill in your hands. A hundred euros.

You raise it up at Valentina, who's eyebrows shoot up.

"Why would he give me this?"

"Maybe he thought you were cute."

"Gusch Valentina."

At the end of your shift you wave goodbye at Valentina. You're exhausted, much more than you usually are, and there's a dull ache at the bottom of your right foot; you want to call Oma and ask if you can reschedule, but you know she's got dinner waiting on you and you can't disappoint.

On the ride it starts to sprinkle, and by the time you make it to her house, it's pouring outside, hard enough that you can barely see the road infront of you, but you make it, albeit slowly. You try to cover your head with your jacket as you run inside, rainwater filling your shoes.

"Oma; I'm here!"

The sound of silence and rain on the roof greets you.

"Oma!"

"Komm mal her!"

You follow her voice to the kitchen, where there's already something boiling on the stove. Oma kisses you on each cheek, barking at you to sit down.

"Oma wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?"

"I do not need your help - just sit, you have been working all day."

You feel useless as she putters around, stirring whatever smells amazing on the stove, pulling bread out of the oven, filling a pitcher with water.

She slides your plate across the table at you before taking a seat across from you.

"Have you heard from König?"

You shake your head at her, ripping a piece of bread off.

"Nein. Not since he left."

"How long has it been?"

"Eight weeks, nine weeks. Something like that."

The two of you finish eating in silence - you're busy washing the dishes up for Oma when she speaks again.

"I have some friends who need help around their house. Old ladies who can't get things done like they used to. I told them about you - that you might want to earn some extra money and be out of the house while König is gone. It is not good for you to be alone all the time."

You dry the tines of the forks, your eyes trained on the rain falling roughly outside.

"That would be nice, Oma. Thank you."

"Ja. I will let them know when you can."

"Danke, Oma."

You kiss her on the cheek good-bye and dash to the car, getting soaked for the second time that evening.

Her figure, waving good-bye at you in the headlights, makes you want to run inside, ask her if you can stay the night. But you turn the key over in the ignition and drive home.

***

Oma's friends work you like a dog on your days off, barking at you in gentle German, pressing food into your hands whenever you leave. You have to start giving some of it to Valentina whenever you can, your work shirts getting a little tighter than you usually like.

One of the women has you sorting seed packets when your cell rings; you hope for a second that it's König, calling to tell you he's home, but it's Oma.

"You need to come to my house. Tonight. As soon as you can."

"Are you alright Oma?"

Her tone worries you - frantic and worried.

"Ja. You need to come. Do not forget."

She hangs up on you, leaving you staring at the screen. God, you wished König would come home, or even have given you an address to write him at - something. But he didn't; it worries you at night his silence, the fact that he's been gone longer than he had before and you've heard nothing. You reason with yourself that if something bad had happened someone would have called you.

Oma waits for you at the dinner table - the stove is empty and her expression is grim. Fear grips you for a moment: something has happened, and Oma was the one contacted. His body was dumped somewhere - this is happening to you again - this-

"You are pregnant."

Her words hit you viscerally, pulling you out of the dark the thoughts that whirled around you.

"Oma what the fuck!"

"Pass auf, was du sagst! Frau Müller said you threw up when she was cooking fish."

"It smelt horrific Oma, I'm not."

"You are going to argue with me? You have had no kids and I have had many."

You want to roll your eyes at her, but you fear her aim with a wooden spoon.

"Oma I think I would know."

"You would not because you have been to worried about König you haven't payed attention to anything. But I have - I know."

A new sort of panic sets in, a worry that she's right.

"I will take you to the doctor tomorrow early. Do not go to work. Say you are sick."

"Oma you don't drive-"

"I know that - you will drive me."

You don't see a way out of this argument, out of this predicament. So you agree and walk out of the house in a daze. Halfway home, you have to pull of to throw up from worry.

***

You're frozen in the cold doctor's seat as he pulls the blood from the crook in your arm. You half catch the words that tumble between him and Oma; nod along at his clipped English, but you don't really pay any attention to him.

His fingers are warm when he touches your shoulder, pulling you from the state you'd lost yourself in.

"Three days."

Three days.

It had been nearly three months since König had left, and all you wished as you drove Oma back home was that you had a number to call him, some way to beg him to come home and take care of you.

You don't even really know him.

The thought had bounced around your head since the night before, chasing away whatever sleep you'd been able to grasp. König's smell had already been washed away from the bedsheets, and it had just felt lonely in a way you hadn't felt in months.

The entire thing was eating at you - you'd let a strange man sweep you into a fantasy and now there was a chance that he had you trapped with no alternative. Despite how good König had treated you, you still felt stupid for the entire thing.

But that didn't stop the elation you felt when you spotted the white envelope tucked into the doorjamb. Shuffling your purse and keys, you yank the folded up sheet of paper from the inside out. Smoothing it out as you step into the house, you slam the door shut with your foot and let your purse fall heavily to the floor.

König's heavy scrawl - like he's putting his entire weight behind the pen - covers the paper in chicken scratch.

I miss you. I will be home soon. Be good Taube.

Soon?

You can feel the panic rising inside of you; you'll have to tell him when he gets home. What if he's angry? Panic starts to constrict in your chest; you crumple König's letter up and shove it in your pocket.

You can't think of this right now - the worry between wondering when König will come home and what the doctor might say is too much for you to handle right now.

You do your best not to think as you haul dusty cleaning supplies out from underneath the kitchen sink. The house had never been dirty; König was abnormally clean for a man his age and size. But there was nothing else to do - you had called off work for the doctor's appointment and you weren't sure if you could handle walking the shops.

So you immerse yourself in the process of cleaning. Beneath your fingers, a shine develops across the house that you hadn't seen before. Your back is cramping as you scrub the bathtub with a bristle brush; sweat pools in the small of your back.

You even scrub the floor on your hands and knees, washing away the dirt that accumulated between the cracks in the tile.

You throw yourself into cleaning until you fall into bed exhausted and for the first night in weeks you aren't plagued with dreams of your grandfather or König. But the restless panic starts again the moment you wake up, and you arrive at work three hours early.

Valentina looks at you with confusion across her face, but she doesn't say anything as you shake your head at her. Throwing your apron over your head, you speak without looking at her.

"I'm going to organize the stockroom - I'll be out in a few hours."

It's different here - in the hot stock room with boxes stacked two deep and multiple highs. The panic is worse here, where the familiarity of the house isn't an innate comfort. But it's enough to keep you from checking your phone every five minutes to see if the doctor had called.

You're not sure how long you're there before Valentina is calling your name.

"Are you going to keep working back there or are you going to come work the front with me?"

You trace your fingers across the sticker of an imported bag of coffee beans; you want to stay back here and hide away. You're worried that anyone will see it written across your face - the same way that Oma did. But you can't leave Valentina at the front alone for the rest of the shift.

"I'm coming!"

Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you duck out of the store room. It's cold up front - the air that had started to chill outside creeping in every time someone walked in. It's packed up front; you take over the line still not comfortable enough with your German to try to work the register.

When the line starts to lull, you can see Valentina peering at you from the corner of her eye. You can see it bursting inside of her: the urge to ask you what's wrong. She's never been the type of person to keep herself from prying, but this time she manages to keep it to herself.

"I'm having a party this weekend if you want to come," she finally says, wiping the register down during a slow moment. "There won't be a lot of people there."

You force yourself to smile over at her, fingers paused in the act of scratching dried milk off of the counter.

"That sounds fun."

"Would your - would König be coming?"

You keep your eyes trained on the dried milk, not looking over at her prying eyes.

"I'm not sure. He should be home soon."

"How soon is soon?"

"Not sure."

After the two women who'd been in here bad mouthing König, you'd never bothered to ask him if anyone else in town knew what he did for a living - if anyone knew about his work in the military. He wouldn't have answered the question; but you could tell from how everyone said his name, how everyone looked at him when the two of you walked alongside each other, that they knew he did something they didn't want to know about.

You can hear it in the way Valentina speaks his name. She's being polite because she likes you, but she doesn't want König to show up.

You close the shop for the night, an hour after waving good-bye to Valentina as she disappeared around the corner. It's eerily silent as you count the change down, readying the drawer for the openers. You try to drag the last tasks as long as possible: sweeping behind the counter, putting new bags in the trash cans, but you can only drag it out for so long.

Your brain spirals again on the prospect of being pregnant - of having to explain to König what had happened. You try to script out the conversation in your head; a thousand different scenarios occupy your thoughts as you drive home. Each one ends in König storming out of the house, of you being forced to be alone.

You don't move for a moment as you park the car, the lights illuminating the glass in the window. You're halfway out the door, when a twitch at the window catches your attention- behind the curtain you can just make out the outline of someone waiting there. Your heart leaps, for just a moment you expect König to come bounding out the door.

But when the shadow moves towards the front door the overwhelming feeling that something is wrong washes over you. It's too small - too short to be your König. One foot is still poised in the car as you freeze. You scan the grass, looking for any sign that the giant truck that usually drops König off had cut through the grass earlier, but it's still pristine in the darkness.

And König would have met you at work; he never let you drive at night when he was home. He'd never not come to meet you the moment he was home.

The door cracks open - you don't know if it's a trick of your imagination or if whoever is in there is really coming out. In a blind panic you throw yourself back in the car, finger fumbling for the key to try to turn it on. Without looking back up at the door - scared of who you might see, you keep your eye focused on the steering wheel as the car comes to life beneath you and you slam the car into a turn.

As you straighten the wheel, you glance in the rearview mirror - a shadowed figure, just illuminated by your tail lights, peers at you from behind the front door.

#konig cod #könig x y/n #konig #könig #cod #my fics #cod konig #konig mw2 #konig x you #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod

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thegreatestsandwich · 1 year

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So good to me, so right (Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Jace Velaryon x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: He met you by coincidence and for some reason, he can’t seem to let you go.

Warning: Nothing really, well it’s cringy and it doesn’t make any sense, I wrote this by being sick and drugged with the whole bunch of medicine I have to take

A/N: So here’s the second fic of my little project, it’s kinda a re-told of the little mermaid? kinda, I really don’t know what I wrote :D

The day was grey, the clouds were angry and the wind was screaming for blood but down into the darker waters, the ocean was singing in harmony within the ongoing storm and show. You could hear the song so clearly and perfectly, an inviting tune that lured you into join in.

You were swimming closer to the shore, closer to what Dragonstone was supposed to be located, perfectly knowing that in any moment, any fool would succumb into the arms of very sweet and lovingly death. You were waiting patiently as you could feel it, see it and smell it down on your bare bones. The blinding light erupted from the sky, another thunder, another sign. It was almost time for a delicious meal.

Your eyes tried to adjust at what was happening on the sky above. Different colors were dancing, trying to lead the continuous steps. Red and oranges tones across the grey canvas. Loud screams of monstruous beast, the smell of smoke.

At first it terrified you, as you were one of the youngest of your species and being that meant you needed to prove to your tribe you could contribute into hunting and feed them as well. So you force yourself to come up and finally choose what a great meal was about to happened.

Silence followed the thunder. Silence brought smoke and pieces falling freely to the ocean. The ocean was the only thing that heard their screams, the ocean was the only thing that received them with joy.

You closed your eyes, slowly disappearing into the waters, finally accepting the ocean’s call for a meal. Your sirens instincts took over you, taking you into the depths where no human could ever follow. You began searching for a source of food, pieces of things that you didn’t know were floating underwater, that’s when you sense it.

Blood.

Few corpses were floating while others were already falling into the darkest depth. A smile formed on your face and you began swimming your way to your objective. You stopped quickly when you saw the creature. It was bigger than you, and the scales on its body told you that it didn’t belong to the ocean. A huge stick was pocking through its chest. You knew it was in pain and a part inside your mind told you that it wouldn’t be fair to attack it.

That’s when you saw him. He was next to the thing, another stick was pocking on his chest as well as the beast, you saw him began to fall into the depths. You hesitated for a second, yes; you were really hungry and wanted to eat him but still, there was something inside you that didn’t let you. You made up your mind quickly and as fast as you could, you swim to him, hugging him below where the stick was poking and took him to the lonely island you knew he could be safe. You did the same thing with the beast that was closer to the human.

Whitin the passing seconds, you noticed he was not waking up, even though you already made sure the water was completely out of his body, same with the beast but both of them weren’t opening their eyes. You focus on the stick, it was still on them, you were afraid of taking it off, thinking something bad could happened to them.

You knew there was something deeper in the ocean, far beyond the darkness that could help them, but it was a trip even you didn’t dare to make.

The human moaned in pain, and your eyes quickly went back to him. You saw him move a bit before staying still again, so you decided that perhaps, the trip wouldn’t be a bad idea. It wouldn’t take more than two moon passings to complete it.

You sighed knowing what you were about to do, you dragged yourself closer to the human, your tail collecting sand along the way. Your hand moved a few strands of brown hair from his face, your fingers playing with them for a few seconds before finally moving his face -not- carefully, you opened his eyes. Brown. You opened his mouth, the teeth were weird, not pointy enough to eat, you wondered what he consume if he couldn’t bite meat off the bone.

He groaned again and you nodded before going back to the ocean and into the deepest depths.

The journey took a bit too long for your liking and you hoped he was still there where you left him, and hopefully alive. You found the island quickly and swam as fast as you could, a tiny bottle tucked against your ribs carefully, you didn’t saw him laying on the sand and you got worried that something attacked him at his most vulnerable state.

You reached the shore and began dragging yourself into the island. You spotted him quickly against a three still asleep, the stick still on his body. The beast behind him, completely stressed, his stand was like a predator and you made sure to not made eye contact, perfectly knowing it as it resembles closer to the ones from underneath.

You show it the tiny bottle, carefully getting closer and closer to the man, trying to show the beast that you were not a threat. The beast decided to observe you for a moment, trying to understand what your next move would be.

You manage to drag your tail closer to the human, sitting next to him as you carefully watched his features, his face was fascinating, completely different from the ones of your species. More softer. You poked his cheek and waited for his reaction. He just frowned and you smiled. Your eyes turned towards the stick, touching it softly, it was wood, easily to take off with one pull. Your hands quickly put the bottle on his legs and grabbed the stick, without much thinking, you pull it with force and it slide off from him.

He screamed in pain and it startled you for a second, but you force you to concentrate, you quickly grabbed the bottle, spreading the liquid onto his wound, you grabbed his arms as hard as you could because he was being difficult. You knew how much it hurt to have that liquid on the body but you needed him to stay still so it could work.

The beast felt the pain of his owner so it began growling at you, you were getting a bit nervous at how it began to show its teeth at you, so you did the only thing you could and hissed back. It definitely quiet it.

The human stopped fighting you and simply sighed in content as the pain was slowly subsiding. You hummed and turned your attention to the beast, watching how the stick was still on its body, your hand stretched out to grabbed it but it growled in anger, yet you didn’t let it scare you, it was in pain so you wanted to help. You leg go of the human and drag yourself towards the beast, you grabbed the stick and pull it away with force. It growled and it tried to bite you, but you manage to rest your palm against the open wound. Forcing some of the liquid into it.

You waited next to the human, the beast had already calm itself down when the liquid finally took away the last of the pain, he even curled next to you, waiting for his owner to finally wake up. It didn’t took long. The night was almost approaching when he woke up, he was confused at first, trying to recollect his thoughts about what just had happened.

His hands went quickly to his chest, trying to find the arrow but he found none, he sighed in relief, thinking it might had been a dream, but being outside, on an island, next to a creature who was putting several pieces of shells on his legs, told the contrary.

Jace quickly stood up, almost falling in the process. “What…?” His dragon woke up with the alteration from his owner, lazily stretching.

You watched him with curiosity when you heard it the sound his stomach made. He was hungry, you understood that sound, you quickly made your way back to the waters, no after pushing him into the sand and looking at him in the eye, hoping he would understand the meaning of your glare.

Jace was just confused, one moment he was flying, then someone shot him, he thought he was about to die and then he woke up next to you, a beautiful woman with a tail, no legs. A TAIL. He began pacing on the sand, trying to find any sort of coherent plan he could think of. His dragon was no help at all, opting for just sat next to the shore waiting for the girl who left moments ago. To be completely honest, Jace was thinking this was some sort of a dream.

Being trapped with your care was something he never imagine would happened to him. You were a bit rough but he suspected to the fact that you were not completely human, and the communication aspect was completely off so to spend time he decided to help you learn a few words. Jace managed to help you learn his name, he also gave you a name, he introduced you to Vermax officially and even talked about his mother.

But in reality, even if spending time with you was a break from all the responsibilities he had and even taking away his mind from the ongoing war. He needed to understand that this was just a passenger distraction. So one day he asked you to hunt for a bit because he was hungry, and you happily accepted.

You swam to the shore once again, your arms full of different kind of fishes, hoping Jace and Vermax would like your choices this time. You smiled at the thought of having another meal with your new friends but when quickly left your face as you saw the island completely empty.

“Jace?” You called out. “Vermax? Here?” Silence welcomed you once again. Your arms drop the fish on the sand, your tail barely out of the water.

Your heart felt heavy and weird, a feeling you never had experience before. A few drops began falling into your tail, your eyes went to the sky, finding it free from any cloud, there was no water falling from it.

Your fingers touched your face, feeling the water coming out of your eyes, your hands rubbed harsher against your eyes, trying to dry them out. With a grunt, you dragged yourself again towards the waters, not looking back at the pile of fishes you spend hours catching.

It pained him to leave you but he needed to do it, his return was far more important than the need and want to stay next to you. Jace rode Vermax to Dragonstone, hoping that his mother was waiting for him.

Vermax roared, breaking his thoughts, his eyes finally focusing on his home. “Finally.” He whispered. His dragon softly landed on the ground and for the first time, he felt beyond tired. He was exhausted.

With so much effort, he made his way into the castle, passing several servants who looked at him as he was a ghost. That’s when his mother spotted him.

“Jacaerys?” Rhaenyra whispered in disbelief, stopping harshly. Daemon watched carefully, his eyes searching what his wife just had saw, that’s when he saw him.

Jace turned around, at the end of the hall was his mother, completely changed, the stress was completely painted on her face, her eyes shown the mourning she has been dealing for the past few weeks. “Jacaerys?!” Rhaenyra scream, finally running towards her son.

Jace didn’t waste any time, and even if he was completely tired and sleep was trying to force its way, he run towards her. Once she reached him, she hugged him with so much force. “Oh my boy, oh my sweet boy, you are here, you are here.” Rhaenyra kissed his head repeatedly. “You are alive, you are, I knew it, I knew it.”

“Mother, please.” Jace hold her tightly. “The others are watching.” The joke he tried to make cause a small teary chuckle from his mother. “I had missed you as well.”

“Please come, come and tell me everything.” She led him towards his room. Daemon following behind them.

“A beautiful woman.” Jace said with a smile after finishing everything that happened to him. “The most beautiful woman I had ever seen, mother.” Rhaenyra smiled as she sat next to him on his bed, brushing away the hair from his face. “You would love her.”

“I already love her.” She responded. “She saved my son, she has my eternal gratitude.”

“It is impossible.” Daemon took a step forward, his face completely in disbelief. “A woman with a tail similar to the scales of a dragon.” He paused for a second. “And she came out of the ocean?”

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra stopped him. “I believe he is telling the truth.” She stared at her husband saying no more. There were somethings that the world hide beneath the eye, even an eye as experienced as the Targaryen one. “Jace has no reason to lie.”

“Not a lie.” Daemon accepted. “But perhaps a changing in ones perspective, he was injured and miraculously landed on a stranded island, loosing blood rapidly. I doubt a few aspects of his story.”

“I can show you.” Jace quickly interrupted, trying to pry away his mother’s hands from pushing him back to bed. “I can introduce her to you right now, if we leave in this moment maybe we could...”

“No.” Rhaenyra protested, quickly stopping Daemon from speaking. “What you need is rest, there is time for that another day.”

“But…”

“No, I said rest.”

But meeting you again turned out to be after a few days, a storm had made its way to Dragonstone, forcing everyone to stay put for some days, he hated that, he needed to see you again and began wondering if you would forgive him for just leaving without saying goodbye. He hoped you do.

After the storm cleared out, Jace knew he needed to move quickly. He trudge into the iron throne, startling his mother and Daemon with his brusque entrance.

“Mother, I believe it is time for you to meet her. I have waited enough and I’m already as healthy as I can be.” He said.

Rhaenyra watched him carefully. “Meet her?”

“The storm has already disperse and it’s perfect for the dragons to fly to her island.” He bowed his head, wishing that they could just say yes and begin their way to the island. “Mother, please.”

His mother sighed, knowing that there would not be anything she could say to beg him to rest for another day. She nodded, turning towards her husband. “I won’t be long.”

Daemon scoffed. “You think I will let you go on your own?”

“She won’t be on her own, I will be there.” Jace retorted. “And she is completely inoffensive.”

“You are still hurt boy.” Daemon pointed out. “You would be useless traying to defend your mother. Show us the way, we will be behind you.”

“No! I mean.” He paused. “I want her to meet mother first, I only talk about her.”

Rhaenyra smiled. “It is fine Daemon, do not worry for us, Jace it’s capable enough to take care of both of us, and we will have our dragons with us. Isn’t that right, my boy?”

Jace nodded and quickly made his way outside. He was excited to see you again and his steps showed it, they were happily and nervous at the same time. He made his way quickly towards Vermax, his mother trying to follow his steps. Convincing Daemon to stay was even harder, but Jace managed to do it in rapidly. He didn’t want to scare you away. So Jace didn’t waste any time and approached his dragon, meeting his gaze. “Ready?”

“Jace! Slow down, you have not recover completely.” His mother tried to slow him for a bit but he didn’t listen. “That boy will kill me one of these days.”

The way to the island was a quick one, a path that Jace already engraved into his memory. His heart was getting heavier and heavier the seconds he got closer to it. Vermax could feel it too, a exciting feeling to returning home. “Easy boy, we are almost there.”

Vermax descended quickly into the sand. Jace getting off quickly as well. His feet welcomed the sand and he began searching. Rhaenyra walked towards the nervous boy. Not knowing what to do. Suddenly, several pieces of rocks began hitting all of them. Jace quickly turned towards the source, a huge smile formed on his face as he saw you throwing the rocks at them.

“(Y/N)!” He happily exclaim, ignoring the pain of the hits. “Hey! Stop it! Not the enemy!”

You ignored him, now throwing pieces of sticks at him, trying to stop him to come closer to you. “No! Go! Bad Jace!”

As closer as he got the clever you got, first it was rocks, then it was sticks, then it was shells and finally sand. When neither worked to stop him you decided to just flee. You began dragging yourself using the sand.

Jace’s eyes widened and threw himself on top of you, you just punch his face. “Stop it! You are going to get hurt.” He grabbed your arms and pinned them above you. “Vermax!” His dragon hear his owner’s call and quickly walked towards the struggling duo on the sand. Jace guide your hands to his dragon, forcing your fingers to touch Vermax’s scales. You force your hands away from his and began tracing each one of them, halting your movements, now more calm than before. “See? Friends.”

“Vermax friend, you bad.” You huffed angrily. “You left, no goodbye.”

Jace’s face rested on your shoulder -still on top on you, not that you were complaining-, he sighed knowingly. “I know, but I needed to go home and show them I wasn’t dead.”

“No forgive.” You continued playing with Vermax’s scales, who happily let you, using his head to guide you where you could touch next. “You bad like others.” Jace sighed, finally turning to see his mother.

Rhaenyra was watching them fight and for a moment it reminded her that her son was actually growing up and becoming a strong man, perhaps he was starting to have some romantic interest in you. Jace motion her to come closer, mouthing a quiet ‘careful’ and she complied, she made her way silently. She saw how her son whispered something to the girl next to him and both of them turned towards her, the girl watching her with curiosity on her eyes.

Jace sat down next to the girl and offered Rhaenyra his hand, a smile on his face, motioning her to not be afraid. She sat next to his son, waiting for him to introduce them.

“Mother.” He placed his palm on her chest, Rhaenyra was confused for a second. Then Jace place that hand on his own chest. “Jace.” Then on hers. “(Y/N), yes?”

The girl was visibly confused, she placed her hand on Rhaeneyra. “Jace mother?”

“Yes!” He nodded happily. “She is my mother, the one I told you about.” He turned towards his mother. “She doesn’t speak our language so we are working on her to understand it.”

“I see.” Rhaeneyra smiled at his son. The girl placed her hand on her chest.

“Jace mother?” She asked her. Rhaenerya turned towards her son in amusement.

“No! No! Jace mother is only his mother, your mother must be down.” Jace corrected her.

“Down?” She question him, a happy glint showed on her eyes. “Jace mother hungry? Me feed her!” And she began dragging herself towards the water. Jace trying to stop her but failing as she dived into the waters.

Jace sighed into his hands. “She probably will return with several fishes, perhaps even bigger ones, I am not joking mother, she will expect for you to eat everything.”

She laughed. “Do not worry, my boy.” She stood up and stood next to him. “I will happily eat whatever she brings.”

Jace bit his lips, his eyes closing, perfectly knowing that wouldn’t be possible, but he didn’t have the time to correct his mother as you made your way back to surface, your arms full of dead fishes and your mouth biting into a calamar. You spit it into the sand. “Food!”

“Oh.” Rhaeneyra watched in completely astonishment at the huge quantity of food you manage to recollect in the few minutes you went away.

Jace sighed. “Told you so.”

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